#and Alina in any of her keftas

[atlabeth]

come on back to me - nikolai lantsov

summary: five times you save nikolai and one time he saves you.

a/n: if you've seen my thoughts as i read through siege and storm and ruin and rising then you know that i am deeply in love with nikolai lantsov and since ive finally finished the trilogy i finally feel qualified to write about him lmao. i actually don’t think i’ve written a 5+1 which is crazy so here you go. i wrote this in like 2 days in a spurt of inspiration and im absolutely in love with it, so i hope you all are too!!

title from you’re the one by greta van fleet

wc: 7.3k

warning(s): fem!reader, canon typical violence, siege and storm & ruin and rising book spoilers (i have not watched the show), medical inaccuracies, nikolai's volcra era, hurt/comfort and a happy ending (as usual)

Os Alta

It all happened rather quickly. 

One moment, you were in the infirmary mending a poor soldier’s broken arm. The next, screams were erupting everywhere. 

You and the soldier locked eyes, and you did a final bit of healing on his arm before you nodded at each other and darted off. 

The soldier grabbed his gun and went further into the palace, no doubt to find the royal family, and you adjusted the collar of your kefta before you ran out into the fray. 

Nichevo’ya had surrounded everything, attacking anyone they could find, and their shadowy bodies were like a void’s blight on the land. You knew the sight would be forever burned into your mind.

You knew the Darkling was going to march on Os Alta, that he would have to do it directly to use his shadow soldiers, but this was so much earlier, so much worse than you’d expected. Enforcements were meant to come from Poliznaya. You guessed that was off the table. 

You were fine at fighting—alright with a pistol and better with a dagger—but you were a Healer. You spent more time dealing with the aftermaths of battles, more skilled at setting broken bones and mending bullet wounds than inflicting them. 

Times like these were the ones when you normally questioned your decision to not hone your abilities into a Heartrender, but now you would at least be a dead man either way. Nichevo’ya didn’t exactly have hearts to stop and organs to manipulate. 

You had to get to the other Grisha. You had to make sure the Sun Summoner made it through this attack, even if it meant you wouldn’t. 

You broke into a sprint, trying your best to ignore the crippled and broken bodies in the carnage. Your instincts tugged against you, but you knew there was nothing to be done. If you stopped to help a dead man, you would soon join them. 

You nearly battered into a group of people from your speed and lack of attention, and you reeled to the side seconds before a head-on collision. When you looked up, drawing in ragged breaths in the one second of rest you’d gotten, your eyes widened. 

You were face to face with the royal family. The King, the Queen, and Nikolai Lantsov. The absence was glaring. 

“Grisha,” Nikolai breathed, and he grabbed onto your shoulders like a madman as his fingers ran over the embroidery. He might as well have been one, the way wildfire flickered in his eyes. “You’re a Healer? One of Alina’s?”  

You nodded rapidly. “Are you—” 

“I’m getting them to safety on the Kingfisher,” he cut off, “and she wants me to get that old woman as well.”

“Baghra—?”

“You’re a Healer?” the King interrupted harshly. Your heart stuttered—you’d never been directly addressed by the King, but you supposed circumstances like these called for different standards. 

“Yes,” you nodded. “Are you hurt?” 

“My wife,” he said, and your attention turned to the Queen. Genya’s absence had taken a toll on her, and the shards of glass sticking out of her side weren’t doing her pallid frame any favors. 

“Madraya,” Nikolai whispered, his eyes wide, “I didn’t even notice.” 

“Alexander—” her voice was ragged, her entire appearance pallid— “we’ve much bigger concerns.” 

“Nonsense.” The King’s gaze bore into you. “We have time. Heal her.” 

You screwed your eyes shut, your hands closing into fists for a moment before both opened and you nodded. “Keep an eye out, moi tsarevich,” you huffed, and you moved to the Queen’s side. Nikolai’s head perked up for a moment at your words, but it disappeared just as quickly as he adjusted his grip on his pistol. 

“Of course,” he said wryly. “Not that I don’t trust your work, and not that I don’t trust my abilities, but it would be grand if you could do this quickly.” 

“Working as fast as I can,” you muttered, ignoring the noises the Queen made as you pulled the shards of glass out with little care. Your mentors would be rolling in their graves if they could see you. 

“Vasily is dead, by the way,” Nikolai said, attention focused on the nichevo’ya all around. Thankfully, you’d run into each other in a spot relatively hidden from view. Hopefully it extended to shadow creatures. “I know you were wondering.” 

Your hands faltered for a moment, but it was hardly noticeable as you continued to work. He wasn’t wrong. “I’m so sorry.” 

The Queen choked back a sob, and the King’s face betrayed the slightest bit of emotion. 

“An awful way to go,” Nikolai muttered, more to himself than anything. “But fitting that he brought about his own end.” 

His parents said nothing to your surprise, but you stood up from your knees and nodded at the King and Queen. “She’s healed enough. No internal bleeding, at least.” 

“Healed enough?” the King repeated. “That is not—” 

“It’s the best we can hope for,” Nikolai interrupted sharply. “We’ve already wasted too much time out here.” 

He then nodded, grasping your hands with fierce desperation. “The crown thanks you, darling.” You’d never seen him like this—you’d never seen him fear anything. The Darkling and his creations were a good start. “I thank you, truly.” 

“Just doing my duty,” you assured, and you pulled a small container out of the pocket of your kefta, leftover from your work in the infirmary before it all went to hell, and pressed it into his hand. “She should be alright, but I’ve been slightly rushed. Rub this salve on her wounds when you’re out of danger just to be sure.” 

Nikolai nodded again, slipping it into his own pocket. “Keep our Sun Summoner safe,” he said. “Or else this’ll have all been for nothing.” 

You nodded. “With my life.” 

Nikolai’s eyes met yours, and something unsaid passed between you. Then his hands slipped off of yours, and he continued to herd his parents away from the chaos. You muttered a quick prayer to any Saints that would listen for their safety, and then you head off on your own way. 

2. The Pelican 

You thought either the bones in your hands or the wood was going to crack with how tight you were holding onto the side of the ship. Your heart was still hammering away in your chest—the adrenaline from the battle and Nikolai Lantsov’s sudden appearance and being shot at a thousand different times by a thousand different militiamen still had you quite shaken. 

You knew the sort of chaos you were in for when you made the decision to travel with Alina Starkov rather than stay in the White Cathedral, but you think you hated being in the air like this even more than you hated being trapped underground with those zealots. 

Someone called your name, and you turned to see Adrik a while away with wide eyes. You huffed a sigh as you reluctantly let go and hastened your pace to catch up with him. If he was sent to fetch you, then someone needed healing, and you couldn’t exactly hold off on the one thing you were good at. 

Adrik led you over to a corner of the Pelican where a large portion of your group of Grisha were gathered. Tamar was kneeling next to whoever was injured, one hand splayed above their chest, and you took a deep breath as you forced calmness to wash over your mind. 

“What are we dealing with?” you asked Tamar, but it was clear enough when he spoke up. 

“I’m telling you, it’s fine,” he insisted. “Just a flesh wound.” 

“He was shot,” Tamar said dryly, “and he refuses to accept its severity.” 

“So we meet again,” you said placidly. 

Nikolai seemed to perk up when he saw you, any prior frustration absent from his face as he grinned at you and said your name. “If you’re the Healer here, then I guess I’m not so fine.” 

“Am I ever going to be around you when you’re doing important princely things,” you said as you crouched on the other side of him, Tamar continuing to keep his heart rate steady, “or only when you’re injured?” 

“This is a very important princely thing,” Nikolai said. “I’m showing my soon to be subjects that I’m just like them.” 

“You were shot and you thought you were fine?” You let out a loose sigh and shook your head—it wasn’t worth getting into it. “Keep it steady, Tamar.” 

She nodded, and you reached out to begin unbuttoning his outer coat. He wouldn’t stop shifting around, and it made it infinitely harder. 

“Will you sit still?” you snapped. 

“I am,” Nikolai said. 

“You are not,” you asserted, and you undid the final button on his coat after a struggle, “and you are making this much more difficult.” 

“My apologies,” he said. “Usually women that are taking off my clothes aren’t this angry with me.” 

You scowled, only making his smile grow. 

“You do it yourself if you want to be like that,” you said, letting your hands fall back to your side. “I’m sure the rest of your soldiers will listen to a Healer.” 

“Ah, but none of them bravely threw themselves into danger for you,” Nikolai remarked. “I’m sure that earns me a few points.” 

“Points that you’ve immediately lost by being this difficult with me.” You crossed your arms. “And you did not throw yourself into danger for me—you were in the battle and you got shot.” 

“We came to save you all, and you are a part of it,” Nikolai said. “I’d say I definitely threw myself into danger for you.” 

“You’re impossible.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “Will you not even allow a dying man some honor?”

“You are not dying,” you said, “but you will be if you continue talking. Now take off your clothes and stop being so difficult so I can fix this up before you do die.” 

He tutted as he shed his jacket and worked on the rest of his clothing. Princes were apparently fond of multiple layers. “For a Healer, your bedside manner is remarkably poor.”

“Don’t worry,” Nadia piped in, “she’s always been like this.” 

“I have very fond memories of you healing my broken ribs,” Alina said dryly. 

“All of you are still alive,” you said tartly with a glance back at your fellow Grisha, “aren’t you?” 

“I think you made me wish I wasn’t,” Harshaw mused. 

You scowled again and Nikolai laughed. “That bodes very well for me, considering how much I seem to irritate you.” 

“You’re going to be fine,” you grumbled. When you turned back to him, he’d gotten down to his undershirt and unbuttoned it. Blood had spread across the white fabric, but apart from being shot, the wound wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. It’d had the chance to fester for a bit, but with Tamar’s aid it hopefully wouldn’t be a problem.  

You took a deep breath as you placed your hands on his chest—lucky as always, you could sense the bullet missed all his major organs—but Nikolai grimaced before you could even do anything. 

“Are you alright?”

“Your hands are very cold,” he said and you just shook your head. 

“How no one has wrung you by the neck is beyond me.” 

“Many have tried.” He flashed that smile again. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t add your name to the list.” 

You ignored him, taking another deep breath before you closed your eyes. You felt your power within you, the tug you’d grown accustomed to over the years, and you focused it into a single point. 

You slowly worked on healing Nikolai, making sure you went from the inside out to stop any internal bleeding before you carefully wedged the bullet out with your knife. Surprisingly, he managed to keep his mouth shut for the most part. He watched you the entire time though, wholly unyielding, and it was unnerving. 

Nikolai covered up his pain remarkably well, but you still caught the slightest grimace when you practically stuck a dagger inside him.

“Do you always try to injure your patients more when you’re healing them?” he asked innocently. 

“You typically don’t make fun of the person fixing you up,” you said, and you held up the knife, “or the one holding the blade.”

“Surely you could’ve used David to get it out,” Zoya offered lazily. “Better than practically stabbing the King of Ravka.”

“I’m not the king,” Nikolai said. “Not yet, at least.” 

“And I’m not stabbing him.” You held up the bullet with your other hand, then let it fall to the floor. “I just didn’t feel like digging around inside him.” 

Nikolai picked up the bullet, and you frowned in question. He just shrugged. “To hold onto the fond memories of this battle and the kindest, prettiest Healer I’ve ever laid eyes on.” 

Someone snickered behind you, and you turned to see all of them just standing around—Zoya, Harshaw with Oncat perched on his shoulder, Adrik ignoring his sister to watch, even Alina and Mal were still there. At least Tamar had enough sense to stay quiet while she helped you. 

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” you snapped. “It’s hard to focus with you all watching me.”

Alina blinked, seeming to come back to her senses. You almost didn’t blame her—she had so much on her shoulders, it made sense to just want to stand and stare for a minute.

“Right,” she nodded, and she gestured at Zoya and the Squaller siblings as she started walking across the ship, “Adrik, Nadia, I need you all over…”

Alina's words trailed off as she got farther away, and the small crowd dissipated to find duties to carry out without their Sun Summoner to indulge their whims. 

“Thank you for your help, Tamar,” you mumbled. “I can take it from here.” 

She nodded and went off to join the others—the controlled state Nikolai had been in dissolved as she let go of the hold she had on his heart, and the slight daze in his eye went away. 

“Are you always this mean?” Nikolai asked. You turned back to find him with that same unshakable confidence, same lazy smile even in the face of it all. It was no wonder noble and commoner girls alike tripped over themselves when he returned to Ravka. 

It was no wonder Alina fell for his charms despite the tracker by her side—he always knew the right thing to say to make you feel like everything would be okay, and in the midst of Ravka’s endless war, that was a valuable quality indeed.

“I save it for irritating princes,” you remarked. With a final flourish, his wound was sewed up, and Nikolai raised his eyebrows as he touched the newly healed skin.

There was another slight wince, but he still smiled up at you. “Excellent job.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” you said.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to Grisha handiwork,” Nikolai said as he pulled himself up from the side of the ship. “Especially the healing kind.”

“It would do you good not to get used to it,” you said. “You may not be king yet, but Zoya is right. I’d appreciate it if you tried to stay out of my infirmary.”

“Do you not enjoy my company?” he asked. 

“I don’t enjoy bringing Ravka’s only heir back from the brink after every battle,” you corrected. “You’ve got a lot more weight on your shoulders now, moi tsarevich.”

His eyebrows furrowed slightly at your Ravkan. “Say that again.”

You frowned, wondering if you’d heard him correctly. Nikolai continued staring at you, so you sighed. “Moi tsarevich?”

He laughed, and that only soured your mood further. “What are you laughing about?” 

“I recognized it back during the attack but I didn’t fully think about it,” he said. “It comes out the most with your R’s. You’re not Ravkan, are you?”

You paused at his sudden subject change. “You were focusing on my accent when everyone was dying around us?” 

“Answer the question.” 

Your frown deepened. “I am in most senses of the word.”

Nikolai’s eyes narrowed. “You’re Kerch.”

Your lips twitched. “Yes, but I don’t—”

“You still haven’t lost the accent somehow,” he continued. “At least, in how you speak certain Ravkan words. Is it Ketterdam?”

“Don’t you have better things to do than quiz your Healer on her childhood?”

“Perhaps,” Nikolai said, eyes twinkling, “but if you’re really my Healer, as you said yourself, I’m surely allowed to ask as many questions as my heart desires.”

“Your heart desires no more,” you said wryly. “I have other injured to attend to. Call if you find yourself actively dying.”

To his credit, he didn’t try to fight it. Just offered that same smile that weakened knees from the Kaelish to the Shu. “I’ll be sure to ring before I’m dead and buried.”

“Put your clothes back on before you do,” you said.

“Ah, but isn’t this your reward for putting up with the irritating prince?” Nikolai asked with a slight gesture at his chest. “I’d imagine you’d want to keep an eye on your handiwork.”

That sparked a rare smile of your own, and you bowed your head. “Moi tsarevich,” you said before you walked off.

You felt Nikolai’s eyes on you even as you approached an injured First Army soldier, and after the first few preliminary questions you couldn’t help but look back. 

When you did, he was gone. 

3. Monastery of Sankt Demyan

You sat on the Spinning Wheel, off to the corner so you wouldn’t be disturbing anyone, staring at your hands as you tried to ignore the thousands of things bumping around in your mind. You’d been on the run with the Sun Summoner and a smattering of other Grisha for longer than you would have liked, but you had to accept that this was what life would be like until the Darkling was either defeated or destroyed you all. 

It was a damning sort of fate, knowing what awaited you unless the impossible was done. At least it would be quick if the nichevo’ya tore you apart. 

You grimaced. That was one thought that would do you no good—if you’d made it this far, from Os Alta under the Darkling’s control to Os Alta under Lantsov control to the White Cathedral and now to Fjerda of all places, what was one more piece of the puzzle? 

A very big piece of the puzzle, of course, and there was still the intrinsic distrust that some soldiers—and even Alina at moments, flickers of it you could see in her eyes against her will—had towards you. You, like the rest of the Grisha here that hailed from the Second Army, served the Darkling until you’d switched sides. You wanted nothing more than to see the Darkling to his grave, for Ravka to be restored and for all of this to be over. 

But you had switched sides in the first place, and you knew enough from the looks of those soldiers—they still believed that if you could betray the Darkling, you could always still betray the Sun Summoner if given enough cause. 

You didn’t try to dissuade their views through words; it wouldn’t do any good. You just hoped the long hours you spent holed up in the infirmary healing the injured would. You missed Maxim if only so you wouldn’t have to do it all alone. 

“Vlachka for your thoughts?” 

You looked up, surprised to see Nikolai Lantsov of all people. You hadn’t held a true conversation with him since you healed him after his bullet wound. He’d been busy with princely things like banishing his parents and saving Genya’s livelihood. 

You were thankful for that, at least. She’d suffered too much at the hands of the Darkling and the King. 

“You’d need a lot more than that,” you said. 

He smiled. “I’ve got quite a bit. Have you seen this place?” 

You chuckled and shrugged. “Just thinking. About our next move, about the Darkling, about what will be after this.” 

“You certainly aren’t the only one,” Nikolai said. “Lately it seems to be all anyone can think about.”

“I’m sure you’d much rather have them thinking of you,” you said wryly. 

“Oh, there’s plenty of that going on as well.” Nikolai smiled. “An even balance, I’d say.”

You chuckled again. “What brings you here, Nikolai?” 

He shrugged. “I wanted to get to know my Healer.” 

You huffed a sigh and looked away. “Why do you call me that?” 

He was awfully good at feigning innocence. “Call you what?” 

“My Healer,” you repeated. “Your Healer. I don’t understand it.” 

“I like the sound of it,” he said. “I’ll stop if you don’t like it.” 

You felt your cheeks heat and you felt his eyes on you. “It’s not that. It’s just—” 

“Because I can,” he continued. “Would you prefer lapushka? Milaya? Perhaps babya.”

You scowled as you turned back to him, and you hit him lightly on the shoulder. “You should stick to the seas and the throne, moi tsarevich. Comedy is not your strong suit.” 

“I like it when you call me that,” he mused. “I like your accent, your voice.” He sat down next to you, mildly unexpected, and you hoped you did better at hiding your surprise than it felt. “There’s something soothing about it.” 

“I am from Ketterdam,” you said after a moment. “You guessed right. Born and raised. When my abilities started showing, my parents put me on a ship to Ravka with a map, some vlachki, and the clothes on my back. I made my way to the Little Palace, pleaded my case to the Darkling, and I haven’t seen them since.”

Nikolai was silent, and you fully turned to look at him. “You wanted to know more about me. That’s who I am. A girl from Ketterdam in over her head.”

“Give yourself some credit,” Nikolai said. “You’re a woman from Ketterdam in over your head.” 

You huffed a laugh, and Nikolai’s expression softened a bit. “Why did they send you away? If that’s alright to ask, of course.” 

You shrugged. “Being a young girl in the Barrel is bad enough. If anyone figured out I was Grisha, I would either be dead in the streets, indentured before I could blink, or worse.”  

“They thought it would be safer in Ravka,” he guessed. “In the Second Army.” 

You nodded. “They couldn’t have known any of this would happen,” you said dryly. 

“Do you miss your parents?” he asked. 

“Every day,” you said quietly. “We sent letters when we could, but it was never enough. And those stopped after Alina left the Little Palace, obviously.” 

You didn’t need to recount the months of the Darkling’s madness as he searched for his Sun Summoner. Nikolai might have been Sturmhond at the time, but you didn’t doubt that he had contacts in the Little Palace. You didn’t exactly want to remember it either. 

“How about this?” Nikolai adjusted his position so he could look right at you, those smart hazel eyes enough to get lost in. You forced yourself not to. “On the slim chance that we make it through these next few weeks, when the dust has settled and I’m officially King, I’ll charter a ship for you back to Ketterdam.” 

Your head whirled back to look at him, eyes widening. There was no sign in his eyes of a false promise, only that soft smile, charming as ever. You had the sudden, misplaced urge to wind your fingers into those blonde curls and kiss him. 

“You’d do that for me?” 

He nodded. “Of course. Only the best for my Healer, right?” 

That got a laugh out of you, but the heat rose to your cheeks all the same. “That would be incredible, Nikolai. Thank you.” 

“Of course.” 

He looked—gazed— at you for a touch longer than usual before he spoke again. 

“There’s going to be a meteor shower later tonight,” Nikolai said. “One of my crew figured it out—he’s very fond of the sky, and he told me it would be… quite the sight.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. Was he—

“I’d like to watch it with you,” Nikolai continued. “Of course, I have to put on a display with Alina, but after that,” he looked over at you, hazel eyes gleaming, “I’d like to spend the night with you.” 

It took a moment for your brain to fully process his words. “Moi tsarevich, are… you asking me on a— a date?” 

“Just Nikolai, please,” he said with a grin. “And yes, I am.” 

It seemed so trivial in the scheme of things. You were leading an impossible battle against the Darkling, and as a traitor to his throne, you would end up dead or worse if he caught you. The near entirety of the Second Army was dead, friends you’d grown up and honed your power alongside with ripped apart by nichevo’ya. Your chances for victory relied on the firebird, and no one knew a damn thing about it. 

It was trivial. It was frankly ridiculous, for the prince— the King of Ravka—to be asking you on a date, especially when it was imperative for him to present a certain image with Alina. 

But for all the triviality and ridiculousness and idiocy, you found that you’d never wanted to accept something so badly. 

So you did. You nodded, smiled, brighter than usual. Nikolai seemed to have that effect on you. 

“I’d love to.” 

“Wonderful.” Somehow, impossibly, his grin grew bigger. Nikolai took your hand and pressed a delicate kiss to it before he stood back up—you’d never been so thankful for his confidence, because you found yourself at a loss for words. “I’ll see you tonight, darling. Try not to get into too much trouble without me.” 

You nodded again, and you knew you looked like a dazed idiot. The better half of a decade spent training as a Grisha and all it took was a kiss to your hand for your brain to stop working. You really had been at war for far too long. 

Nikolai could tell every thought—or lack thereof—in your head by the overly pleased expression he wore as he walked away, and your entire face burned as you bit back your smile. 

He knew exactly what he did to you. 

4. The Bittern 

Sergei sold you out. 

That son of bitch had betrayed you all to the Darkling the first chance he got, and he’d been rewarded with a quicker death than any of you would get. 

You’d been left fighting for your lives against the Darkling’s oprichniki, Grisha, and nichevo’ya alike, and as usual, you were hopelessly outnumbered. You knelt over Adrik as Zoya, Nadia, Harshaw, and David kept the crowd of enemies back, doing your damnedest to keep him from bleeding out from his nichevo’ya bite. 

His arm hung at a bizarre angle, and you didn’t know how you would tell him and his sister you didn’t think you could save it. You were sure Genya’s whispered words were the only thing keeping him even slightly calm.

By the time the Bittern was in the air, precarious but afloat, you were about ready to collapse. It had all been too damn much, with the Darkling and Baghra and Nevsky, and now the poor schoolboy lying beneath you with an arm you couldn’t save. 

“He’ll be okay,” you murmured to nobody but yourself, wiping beads of sweat from your forehead as you laid against the side of the ship. As okay as any boy who lost his arm to a shadow monster and went through what he just did. 

Thank the Saints for Tolya keeping both Adrik’s and your heart steady during that ordeal, because you were sure your panic would have won over. 

Everyone in your motley crew was injured in some way or another, and you were the only Healer. Soon you were back on your feet, pushing the horrors of the night out of your mind as you mended lacerations and fixed up bullet wounds. 

Every so often, your eyes would drift over to Adrik. You’d healed him the best you could, but it wasn’t enough. 

And then your mind went to Nikolai. 

Nikolai. 

In the chaos of the battle and the subsequent healing haze, you hadn’t even realized he wasn’t with your group. The Pelican had taken off before you all got to the Bittern, but Nikolai wouldn’t have left Alina on her own after all he’d done to ensure her safety. 

You were almost too scared to ask, but you did anyway. 

“Alina,” you asked, slightly surprised at the sound of your voice in the silence of the night, “where’s Nikolai?” 

Her eyes were unfocused, arms crossed around her midsection for warmth despite the light that glowed beneath her skin. “The Darkling,” she murmured. 

“Wh— what did he do to him?” you continued. “What in the Saints’ name happened to him, Alina?” 

“He ruined him,” she whispered. “He turned him into a monster.” The look on Alina’s face broke you into even smaller pieces. “He turned him into a monster all because Nikolai dared to stand against him. He’s gone.” 

Your grip tightened on the side of the ship as she explained what she had to watch, and your knees threatened to buckle. 

Maybe it was stupid, but you hadn’t even realized you cared this much about the prince. The king, you had to keep reminding yourself. But the thought of him hurt—a hurt that you couldn’t heal—it tore your heart to shreds. 

Only last night you were laying on a blanket next to him, staring up at the meteor shower through the glass dome. He’d never looked more beautiful than he did then, with the streaks of light illuminating his handsome features and those hazel eyes you’d grown to appreciate. 

Few words had passed between the two of you, but once Nikolai had taken your hand in his, neither of you let go for the remainder of the night. That urge to kiss him came back in spades, but you never acted on it. 

Saints, you wished you had. 

“Do you think you can heal him?” Your voice sounded oddly foreign, but you didn’t even feel like you were in your body. Like you were watching it all happen from above, because this couldn’t have been happening. Not to Nikolai— to your Nikolai. 

You were his Healer, and he was your Nikolai. That was how it was supposed to be. 

“I don’t know,” Alina admitted, her tone strained. “My light might be able to help, but… but whenever I’ve used it against the nichevo’ya, against the volcra, I— it kills them.” 

Her voice broke on the last few words, and you wanted to hug her. Alina didn’t love him, you knew that much, but anyone could tell she’d grown close to Nikolai over the months. She was hurting just as much as you. 

You didn’t. You found that you couldn’t do much but stare into the night sky.

He was all alone. Forced into a monster, and now he was all alone. 

It felt like ages before the Bittern finally landed, everyone’s teeth stained rust-orange and bones run deep with exhaustion. Everyone was still alive when you woke up the next morning, and after another check-up on Adrik, you went off into the woods under the guise of searching for kindling. 

Really, you needed some time to yourself. After what had happened—Sergei’s betrayal, losing even more Grisha when you had little to start with, Baghra’s sacrifice, Adrik and his arm, and— and Nikolai—

It was too much. It was just too damn much. 

You’d never gotten close like this to anyone before, never moved further than some useless flirtations and a few stolen kisses with various Grisha when you were bored back at the Little Palace, and when you finally did, with the damned future King of Ravka, this is what happened. 

Guilt tore away at you as you plodded through the woods, and you let the tears you’d been holding back all night fall. You wished you’d been there for him. You wished you’d kissed him. You wished you were strong enough to take the Darkling down on your own for what he’d done. 

The hairs stood up on the back of your neck, and you heard the rustling of branches. You whirled around to the source of the sound, taking a few steps to peer through the trees, and that was when you saw it. 

Your eyes widened and your heart cracked all at once. 

“Nikolai,” you whispered. 

You’d have recognized him anywhere. Despite the shadowy veins splintering across his chest, the wings furled behind his back, claws and fangs in place of fingers and teeth—he was still your Nikolai. His blonde curls remained, his sharp cheekbones and strong jaw, even his clever eyes—even if they were black instead of hazel. 

The smear of blood around his mouth was a sharp contrast to it all. You wondered what—or who—had become his unlucky victim when he could no longer control his hunger. 

Nikolai didn’t move as you stepped closer. His dark gaze was unreadable and you wanted to sob for what the Darkling had done to him. 

“It’s me.” You continued to speak softly as you moved closer, saying your name in hopes of even a spark of recognition. “Your Healer.” 

His eyes followed your movements, his gaze falling down to your hands. He pointed at them with a clawed talon.

You held them up. “My hands?” 

You realized the blood around his mouth wasn’t the only bit of it on his body as your eyes trailed across his bare chest. There were cuts all across his arms and chest, most small but some deeper. He pointed at a thin scar near his abdomen, the only sign of the bullet wound you’d stitched up. 

He wanted you to heal him. He knew who you were. 

This time, a small sob escaped you, and your hand flew up almost on instinct to cover it. You brushed the tears brimming in your eyes as you moved closer to him, and you gently placed your hand on his arm. You felt his limb stiffen for a moment before they relaxed, and you couldn’t help your small smile. Your Nikolai was still there. 

The thin cut vanished as you healed it, and you continued to do the same for the myriad of other injuries on his body. You felt his gaze on you the entire time, and some part of it was comforting. Nikolai was still there—his humanity was still there. This was the least you could do to make him feel the part. 

Once you’d healed up the last of his wounds, you felt the glow of Grisha power inside of you. Nikolai grabbed onto your hand the moment you’d finished, and you looked up into his dark eyes as your fingers clasped around his talons.

“We’ll figure this out, Nikolai,” you whispered. “I promise.”

The corner of his lips curled up ever so slightly, the barest sign of the old smile you’d grown to love.

And then he let go of your hand, and he shot up into the air. It took only seconds for him to disappear, but your gaze remained stuck in place. 

All you could think of was Nikolai’s dark eyes and the shattered shadows beneath his skin, the feel of his taloned hand in yours.  

You would find a way to bring him back. You knew that much. 

5. The Shadow Fold 

“For Saint’s sake— catch him, Zoya!” 

“You screeching at me isn’t helping,” she snarled, her hands held out above her as she summoned wind to break Nikolai’s fall. 

It was almost laughable, how Alina ended it all with a bit of stabbing. First Mal, then the Darkling—now Soldat Sol and oprichniki alike were glowing like human lamps around the Fold. The nichevo’ya dissolved with the Darkling’s power, the same thing that created Nikolai’s monster—you screamed in general when you first saw him falling, and then you screamed at Zoya. It was a credit to her growth that she didn’t slap you first. 

Thankfully, the updraft did its job, and he only landed in the sand at concerning speeds rather than very concerning. 

You ran for him without thinking, not even feeling the jolt in your ankles as you lept from the skiff onto the sands. You no longer had to fear the Fold—the various Sun Soldiers that had gotten Alina’s powers had done away with the remainder in no time—and even if you did, you would brave a thousand volcra for Nikolai. 

He looked so small, so vulnerable laying there in the sand, only clad in torn pants and a myriad of bruises. The last of the shadows receded when you finally reached him, and you didn’t try to stop the tears as they flowed freely down your cheeks. 

“Nikolai,” you whispered, falling to your knees in the sand next to him, “Nikolai, can you hear me?” 

You cradled his head in your hands, tears splattering in the sand around you, and then his eyes opened. 

His beautiful hazel eyes opened and looked right at you, his lips tugging into a smirk as he said your name. 

“Would you say this is an important princely thing?” His voice was husky, damaged from whatever dark thing that had taken a hold of him, but the usual lilt was there. “Or just another injury?” 

You broke into full on sobs, unabashedly and unashamed as you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into a hug. You felt his arms around you as well, and he rubbed circles on your back. 

“I had time to think,” Nikolai murmured, “and I think I’ll settle on lapushka.” 

Darling. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, and you moved away from him just so you could look at him, gaze at him, never forget his beautiful features. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay.” 

“I knew I would be,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “I had you looking out for me.” 

“Stop,” you said, your voice watery. “I can’t keep crying in front of you.” 

“I think you’ve more than earned it, lapushka.” 

You laughed again as you shook your head. “How do you feel? Can you still move all your limbs?” 

Nikolai took his hand in yours, fingers intertwining with yours. His gaze didn’t move from you. “Limbs are fine.” 

You let your smile shine unabashed as you squeezed his hand, thankful for the lack of talons. “Can you sit up?” 

Nikolai visibly winced at the effort, but he managed with your help. “My chest hurts quite a bit.” 

“You’ve definitely broken some ribs,” you murmured, “but it’s nothing I can’t fix up.” 

“There’s nothing you can’t fix,” Nikolai said. 

“Careful with all the praise. I might get used to it.” 

“Good.” 

You glanced over to see Tolya and Zoya moving across the sand towards you and you looked back at Nikolai. 

“We’re going to get you back on the skiff, Nikolai,” you said. “I’ll get you healed up and then we’ll get you some clothes. Alright?” 

“I told you,” Nikolai said, “this is your reward for putting up with the irritating prince.” 

“That was for the prince,” you said, running a hand through his blonde curls to untangle them. “My reward for putting up with irritating kings is to make sure they’re clothed and healed.” 

His smile shone brighter than anything Alina could conjure up. 

The Darkling’s Skiff 

You ended up below deck with Nikolai, Tolya, an unconscious Alina and Mal, and the Darkling’s body. It normally wouldn’t have been a cheery atmosphere, but you were just thankful to be alive after all you’d done. Thankful that Nikolai was alive and himself and that the Darkling was dead. 

A First Army uniform was folded next to Nikolai’s makeshift cot where you sat next to him, and Tolya’s companionable silence was appreciated as he stayed by Alina and Mal to ensure they stayed alive. 

“You broke a few ribs in your fall,” you murmured, your hands placed on his chest, “but overall, I’d say you made out pretty well.” 

“Yes,” Nikolai said wryly, looking at his hands. Faint black lines ran across each of his fingers, where claws had torn through his skin. Though the other shadowy marks had faded, these appeared to be permanent. “Pretty well.” 

“You know what I mean, Nikolai.” You moved your hand over his ribs and focused your power—by the slight grimace on his face, the itch that came along with Grisha healing, you knew they were mending back together. “You’re still alive. You’re you again. That means everything.” 

“And your hands are still freakishly cold,” he mused. You smiled. 

A moment passed before he spoke again. 

“You know,” Nikolai said, and you felt his eyes on you again, “I remember everything. Everything that I did when I was that… that thing.” 

Your throat bobbed, but you nodded, encouraging him on. 

“I went to you,” he said, “and… you helped me. You weren’t afraid—you understood what I meant, and you healed me.” 

“Of course I did,” you said softly. A smile tugged at your lips. “I am your Healer, after all.” 

Nikolai placed his hand over one of yours, and your power wavered for a moment as your heart stuttered. 

“One of your ribs is still broken, Nikolai,” you said. “I have to—” 

“I love you,” he interrupted. Your eyes snapped to him, and you thought you misheard him. 

“What?” 

“I love you,” he repeated, as if it came as easily to him as breathing. “Forgive me for the lack of ballads and sonnets on how to express it—I plan to remedy that as soon as we’re back in Os Alta. But I love you, and it’s the one thing I’m sure of at this moment.” 

You continued to stare at him, as if you’d suddenly forgotten how to speak. Nikolai was no Corporalnik, but you were sure he could hear how loudly your heart was beating. 

“It’s alright if you don’t feel the same,” Nikolai said, “or if you’re not ready. I’m a very patient man.” 

It was like your limbs had suddenly regained the ability to move, because something clicked in your mind. You took his face in your hands and you kissed him with a brazen fierceness you didn’t even know you had. 

For a man with two bruised ribs and one broken one, he kissed you back with the same intensity, if not more. You poured all your fear, all your anxiety, all your worries about him into the kiss, reveling in the warmth of his lips and his hands and—

Tolya cleared his throat. “We’re nearly out of the Fold.” 

You pulled away as quickly as it had started, Nikolai looking very pleased with himself as you fixed the collar of your kefta and looked over at him with eyes that were surely more pupil than iris. 

“Thank you, Tolya,” you said, and you cleared your throat as well. Good of him to ignore the two of you. Embarrassing of you to nearly forget about your surroundings when you looked at Nikolai. 

“Yes,” Nikolai said, mirth in his voice, “thank you, Tolya.”

You rolled your eyes as you turned back to him, your lips still burning from his kiss, and you settled your hands back on Nikolai’s chest. 

“No more interruptions,” you said. “I’ve got to get you healed and dressed before we’re off the sand.” 

His eyes twinkled. “Whatever you say, lapushka.” 

You had no idea what was next. The Sun Summoner died on the Fold, the Darkling’s reign of terror was finally over, and Nikolai was to be King. You didn’t know where you would fit in, though you were sure he would find a place. 

But you loved Nikolai, and by the Saints, Nikolai loved you. 

And for now, that was more than enough. 

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov x y/n #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov fic #nikolai lantsov fluff #nikolai lantsov angst #nikolai lantsov the love of my life #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone fic #grishaverse x reader #sadie writes

[myhairpintrigger]

hellooo i would like to request something <33

basically hanahaki disease w/ Aleksander? when alina arrived at the little palace, reader had been coughing and Aleksander noticed then reader found out that she was coughing petals and eventually got to know it was a disease with the help of some of the plant expert grishas i guess perhaps the healers? then reader starts to distance herself from Aleksander so he wouldn't know but he eventually found out because one of the grisha witnessed one of reader's coughing session and maybe an angst to fluff fic 👉👈

first of all, i am so sorry.. she's a long one... this has been tentatively proofread so i apologise for any grammar or spelling errors. this is my first time writing this trope so i hope it will do alright. thank u for ur beautiful req, my lovely anon, i love u!

warnings: hanahaki disease, blood, vomiting, aleksander is an idiot here lowkey.

word count: 11.9k

To Love Another & Be Loved (aleksander morozova x fem!reader)

-

The Sun Summoner had to be one of the nicest people you’d met in your entire life. 

You wanted to dislike her, after all, she was the center of Aleksander’s attention almost all of the time. Not even the scraps of his time had been reserved for you as of late. 

But you simply couldn’t hate her. She was nothing but kind to you. You spent much of your time with her, anyway. You were the only other Tailor besides Genya and often helped her ready herself for important things when Genya was tending to the Queen. At first, your service to her was only out of obligation to Aleksander. After all, he was your best friend and he fought the King constantly to keep you away from the Grand Palace. The least you could do was help a bit. Surely it would be temporary. 

You sat in Alina’s room with her and you focused hard on twisting her hair up and braiding little bits of it to create an elaborate updo. She was to have dinner with the King and Queen and the Prince that night along with Aleksander. You wordlessly pinned up a thin, tiny braid and Alina sighed. 

“At what point does this all just… stop?” She asked warily and you eyed her through the mirror she sat in front of. 

You raised an eyebrow and shook your head, “What do you mean?” You questioned and flickered your eyes back on her hair. 

“Just… the showiness of it all. When do I become a person with capabilities rather than a spectacle?” 

“Likely never.” You replied with a frown and you met her eyes in the mirror, “But that shouldn’t discourage you. Be the best damn spectacle this country has seen.”

Her shoulders squared a bit and she seemed to at least somewhat like what you had to say. You smiled and went back to her hair, your fingers deftly weaving braids and little twists together for a while longer. You sat back after some time and then placed a few decorative pins in her hair, giving her an approving smile. 

“Lovely. I’m sure the royal family will just eat you up.” You teased and rose from the stool you sat on.  

“I’m sure Aleksander won’t like that.” She countered playfully and the smile slowly faded from your face. 

You blinked in surprise a few times and then let out an uneasy chuckle, “So he’s told you his name?” 

You didn’t know why it bothered you. But it did. 

Alina nodded and she slid on her kefta and buttoned it up while she hummed. You eyed her and bit down on the inside of your cheek. It was black, of course. You glanced down at your own kefta and smoothed it down almost self-consciously. You wore a red kefta that was intricately embroidered with blue threads, and you’d never been disappointed in it until now. 

Why not dress her in gold? You asked silently as you stared at her and you felt that same bitter twinge of jealousy you’d felt ever since she came to the Little Palace. Furthermore, the little sparkle in her eyes when she said his name didn't go unnoticed by you. 

“Yes, is it not very common knowledge?” She asked once she finished buttoning up her clothes and you shook your head. 

You opened your mouth to speak but a knock on the door cut you off. You took this as an opportunity to end this conversation before it made you more upset and you hurried to the door. You opened it up and you were instantly met by a familiar pair of dark eyes. A little weight was lifted from your chest and you smiled up at Aleksander who gave you a smile right back. 

“I figured you’d still be here.” He remarked and leaned down to press a chaste and polite kiss on your cheek. Your skin felt warm and tingly where his lips had made contact and as he pulled away, you prayed he didn’t see the way your face was flushing. 

“It probably wouldn’t have taken so long if Alina didn’t have so much hair.” You noted and then tucked a piece of your own back behind your ear, “I haven’t seen much of you recently.” You remarked, trying your best to keep your tone casual. 

Aleksander clasped his hands behind his back and he gave you a wide smile, “Well, as you know, I’ve been very busy. Join me for tea tomorrow afternoon, I would love to catch up with you.” He said earnestly and you felt a tug in your chest. 

“Of course. Tea sounds wonderful.” You replied, and watched as his eyes shifted over your shoulder. 

The look on his face made your own smile falter. His eyes were fixed on Alina who stood behind you and his smile had turned into an awestruck expression, his eyes softening in ways they didn’t even soften for you. 

“Miss Starkov, you look dazzling.” He commented and you suddenly felt very small, standing in the middle of them. 

Her shy giggle sent a gravelly itch up your throat and you blinked a few times, trying to fight back a cough. 

She thanked him and said something else, but you didn’t hear it because a dry, gritty cough came tearing up through your throat. You held your hands over your mouth frantically and doubled over. You felt a hand on your back and slowly you straightened yourself back up and gasped for air, the coughs ceasing. 

“Are you alright? Would you like a bit of water?” You heard Alina ask and you shook your head, shifting your eyes downwards. 

“What was that? Did you choke on a fly?” Aleksander asked with an amused little chuckle. You gave him a terse laugh in response and felt your throat burn again. Another much smaller and shorter cough reverberated through your chest and you held your hands tightly over your mouth. A warm, wet feeling coated your palms and your face paled. 

Once you recovered you frantically balled your hands up in fists and lowered them to your sides, clearing your throat, “I’m not sure where that came from. I think I’ll go make some tea. Have a lovely dinner.” You murmured hoarsely and scurried past Aleksander, not bothering to look back at them. You made it halfway down the hallway before you slowly unfurled your hands and held them up so that you could see your palms. 

They were sporadically coated in blood.

-

“You don’t have a cold, y/n. Perhaps it’s just the dry air. Winter is upon us.” Genya stated as she stirred a sugar cube into her tea. 

You looked over your shoulder and expected to see Aleksander any time now and then you turned back to Genya with a shrug. 

“I don’t know what else it could be. I can’t stop coughing.” You replied, leaving out the part where most of your coughs dragged blood up from your throat. 

She hummed and took a sip of her tea before shaking her head, “No. Grisha don’t get sick, lovely. You can’t have a cold. Perhaps you’re allergic to something you’ve been smelling or using or eating. Anything new in your diet? Perfumes? Lotions?” She pressed and you shook your head, “Well, then I’m not sure what to tell you. See a Healer if you’re concerned about it but I’m telling you it’s likely the dry air.” She urged. 

You looked down at your own tea and watched tendrils of steam climb the air above it. You let out a sigh and reached out to grab a sugar cube, when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You jumped and spun around, feeling instant relief when you saw that it was only Aleksander who had his hand on you. You sighed contently and leaned your cheek down against the back of his hand. 

“Please, forgive me. I know I’m a bit late to tea. I just had a rather disappointing conversation with a few trackers.” He hummed and then pulled his hand away from your shoulder, leaving you with a certain kind of emptiness. 

He slid into the chair next to you and grabbed your hand tightly, and you felt your heart beat a little bit faster. Genya must have heard it, because she smirked and quickly raised her teacup to her lips to hide it. 

“You weren’t at breakfast this morning.” He commented and tapped your knuckles with the side of his thumb. 

“I wasn’t feeling the best.” You drawled and looked up at his face. He didn’t seem overly concerned when you mentioned that you didn’t feel well, but he didn’t brush it off, either. 

“Odd. Perhaps you should see my Healer.” He pressed and then he reached out and poured himself a cup of tea with his free hand before he released your hand. 

You didn’t respond. Instead, you turned back to your own tea and took a sip of it, looking up at Genya who cleared her throat and stood up.

“Well. I’ll leave you two to it then. I’ve got to get back to the Queen.” She stated and gave you a small wave before scurrying off. 

“Y/n. My Healer?” Aleksander pressed and you glanced up at him. 

You gave him a polite shake of your head and you smiled, “No, it’s all okay. I feel much better now.” You insisted. And it was partially true. You did feel a bit better now that you had some tea. 

You felt his onyx eyes on you as you turned back to your tea and before you could turn towards him, he reached up and brushed a bit of your hair back behind your ear. 

“You look very tired.” He commented and frowned, letting his fingers linger against the side of your face for only a second before dropping them. 

“I am tired. But I have a lot to do today. Besides, I’m getting fitted for my dress today. For the Fete.” You commented, trying to change the subject. 

He hummed and then picked up his teacup, “What are you going to wear?” He asked curiously and he shifted his entire body towards you. 

You looked over at him and slowly turned yourself to face him as well and you gave him a little smile, “Well, not red. That’s for sure. I picked something soft. Pink. A pretty pink dress.”

“Pink is a form of red.” Aleksander pointed out, an amused little smile forming on his perfect lips. 

You giggled and then shook your head, reaching out to give his arm a very gentle smack, “Pink is a very nice color and even if it is red at the very core of it all, I will be wearing it.”

He rolled his eyes playfully and then he chuckled, “Determined little thing, aren’t you?” He asked and then set his teacup down, “I’m glad you’re coming. I was worried you would skip this Fete like you did last year.” 

“Well, last year Vasily was all over me. And I hated it. Of course I didn’t go.” You remarked with a little snort. Aleksander laughed softly and shook his head, turning back to his tea. 

You looked at him, your face softening. Everything about him seemed so… inviting in that moment. The way his hair was immaculately brushed back and curled around the back of his neck, the little curve of his lips as they stayed in their smile from your antics. His dark eyes shone with a rare light of humor and the light of the afternoon sun illuminated them perfectly as you stared at him from the side. He was so heartbreakingly beautiful. 

And you wanted him so badly. You wanted to kiss him, you wanted him to hold you, you wanted him to look at you the way he’d looked at Alina the night before. You wanted to wear black with him and you wanted to be at his side during the Fete. 

You were desperately in love with your best friend, and the worst part was that you could never tell him. 

Your silence must have concerned him in some way, because he slowly turned to face you, the smile slowly vanishing from his face. 

“Y/n, you look like you are about to cry, darling. What’s going on?” He asked softly and you shook your head a few times. 

“N..nothing is wrong.” You lied and felt your throat begin to tingle with the familiar preceding another coughing fit, “I think I just need to go lie down. I feel… unwell.” You added, your voice getting weaker as you tried to keep a cough at bay. 

“Please,” Aleksander began and slowly rose from his chair, “let me walk you to your room, my dear. You are starting to worry me a little bit, if I’m being perfectly honest with you.” He stated and held his arm out for you to take. 

You reached up to grab his arm but instantly yanked your hands back and brought them to your face as you began to cough violently into your palms. The sharp, metallic taste of blood filled your mouth and you heaved forward on your chair, nearly falling off as you coughed. Aleksander’s strong hands caught your shoulders, and before you could protest, he was lifting you up into his arms. 

“Alright. I’m going to take you to your room and then I’m going to send for a Healer. This isn’t natural. You shouldn’t be coughing like that.” He stated. 

You held your hands over your mouth for a while longer as your coughs subsided and you blinked a few times. Once you were sure no more coughs were to come, you pulled your hands up into the sleeves of your kefta and you cleared your throat, wincing as it burned, “No, you don’t need to. I swear to the Saints it’s just allergies, Aleksander.” You said wheezily. 

He looked down at your face and his brows furrowed together and he shook his head, “You have blood on your chin.” He commented and you gaped up at him. 

You reached up and wiped your chin with the sleeve of your kefta and he simply shook his head. You closed your eyes exhaustedly and let him carry you the rest of the way to your room. Once he’d gotten you to your bedroom, he laid you out on your bed and frowned down at you. 

“I’m sending a Healer up here. Don’t be stubborn, please let them help. I’d stay but I’m taking Alina riding. Promise me you will accept the help I send for you.” He said sternly and you opened your eyes. 

You stared up at him, something snapping in your chest. He couldn’t even stay to make sure you were okay? 

“That’s fine. I promise.” You said bitterly and then shook your head, “Have fun riding with Alina.” 

You were sure he caught the bitterness in your tone, because he scowled slightly and then shook his head. He looked as if he might argue with you but instead he wordlessly turned on his heel and left your room, slamming your door behind him. 

A brutal cough tore itself free from your chest and it sent you shooting up into a sitting position. You held your hands over your mouth to catch the droplets of blood that loosed themselves from your throat. Your throat burned as if you were swallowing acid and you miserably pulled your hands away from your mouth between coughs. You stared down at the blood in your hands and suddenly your stomach twisted. You launched yourself off of the bed and grabbed the waste bin that sat near your bed and you coughed violently into it until something sharp tore its way up through your throat and out of your mouth. You had to blink a few times before it registered what exactly sat in the once-empty waste bin; what exactly came out of your mouth. A small cluster of thorns lay in a thick puddle of your blood, and a cluster of bloody rose petals laid around it.

Your mouth hung agape as you stared down into the wastebasket and you pushed it away from you with a frightened yelp. 

Something soft slid against your tongue and you reached up and shakily pulled a blood wetted rose petal off of your tongue, and it was the last thing you saw before your vision went black. 

-

Something wet and cold mopped across your feverish forehead and you slowly opened your eyes. Someone’s hand moved back and forth in your line of sight and you heard a loud gasp before your hands were being clutched tightly. You cleared the fuzziness from your vision by blinking a handful of times and you slowly sat up a bit to see Genya standing over you with her hands clasping yours. A Healer stood at your bedside with a cloth in her hand and you looked back and forth between the two of them before you let out a raspy sigh. 

“Y/n! Sweetheart! What is going on? Emilia found you this way. She said The Darkling sent her up here to you and that when she came in you were out cold on the floor.” 

Emilia must have been the name of the Healer girl at your side and you looked over at her with a terse smile before you looked back at Genya. Her wide eyes were even wider with fear and you frowned, not wanting to have frightened her. 

“I’m fine, I promise. It just must be aller-“

“It is not allergies!” Genya cut you off viciously and dropped your hand to point at the waste bin, “What kind of allergy has you throwing up… plants?” She demanded and you simply shrugged. 

She exasperatedly squeezed the hand of yours that she still held and she frowned, “Emilia tried to heal you but couldn’t find anything wrong with you. Your lungs sound terrible but other than that, you’re healthy.” She said with worry lacing every word she spoke, “When The Darkling gets back from riding-“

You shook your head and held your hand up, “No. No we are not going to tell him a single thing, do you two understand me? You will tell him I am suffering allergies and will be fine in a week or two. I don’t want him around.” You said in a clipped tone.

Genya looked surprised when you said this but she didn’t protest. Instead, she comfortingly brushed her thumb across the back of your hand and let out a defeated little sigh, “Oh, honey. Are things that bad?” 

You slowly looked up at Emilia and Genya did as well. Emilia looked between the two of you and she let out a little sigh. 

“I’ll go get you some tea for your throat.” She said, excusing herself from the conversation that you so desperately wanted to keep private. 

The moment the Healer left the room, you burst into tears. Your ragged breaths seemed to tear trenches into your throat as you cried and little coughs escaped your lips between sobs. You buried your face in your hands and barely noticed when Genya sat right next to you and wrapped her arm around your shoulder, pulling you against her side. 

“Sweetheart, what happened? This afternoon you were all smiles for him.” She breathed and gently rubbed your arm, soothing your cries just slightly. 

“Oh, Genya. I love him. I’m so very in love with him and he hardly gives me the time of day anymore. He speaks of Alina like she’s hung his entire sky. He looks at her like she’s more precious than jewels. He noticed I wasn’t feeling well, and he couldn’t even stay with me. He just tossed a healer at me and left to go with her. It hurts, Genya.” You cried, hiding your face against her shoulder. 

The red haired girl stroked your hair and your back and your arm as you cried against her and at some point, reached out to grab the cool cloth Emilia had left behind. She gently dabbed it against your cheeks and the side of your neck and she frowned, letting you cry. 

Your chest ached terribly at the idea that you loved your best friend who would never love you back, but it seemed to hurt more that you were all in all losing said best friend. Genya coaxed you down until your cheek was against her upper thigh and she ran her fingers through your hair, dabbing the cold cloth against your burning skin still. 

“Things will work out the way they’re supposed to, honey.” Genya said softly, still trying to soothe you. 

Tears rolled down your cheeks still, but your cries subsided for the most part. You exhaustedly closed your eyes and relaxed underneath the Tailor’s touch. You took painful, deep breaths and attempted to calm yourself. You laid in silence against Genya’s thigh for a long time, the only sounds being your sniffles and coughs and little whines. You desperately tried to clear your head of Aleksander, and nearly had, before your door swung open. You heard the handle smack against the wall, and heavy footsteps made their way across your floors. Aleksander. You laid still against Genya and prayed that he thought you were asleep. 

“Emilia says it’s only allergies.” Genya said quietly and you felt her hand slow in your hair until it rested protectively against the crown of your head. 

You heard him shuffle for a moment before he hummed, “She looks miserable.” He remarked. 

He lifted his hand to touch your arm, but Genya shooed his hand away and shook her head. 

“Let her sleep.” She murmured and you heard Aleksander snort. 

“Well, according to my Healer, she’s been unconscious for three hours up until now. How is she sleeping again?” He asked and you could tell he didn’t believe you were asleep. 

That didn’t stop you from pretending, still. 

“Because she is feeling unwell. Why don’t you come and see her tomorrow morning?” Genya suggested and slowly began to drag her fingers through your hair again. 

“I don’t want to see her tomorrow morning. I want to see her now.”

“I don’t think she wants to see you, moi soverenyi.” The Tailor countered. 

The room was silent for a moment and then you heard the rustle of his kefta as he shifted in place. You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting back every desire inside of you that screamed for you to launch yourself into his arms. Maybe if you did, he would carry you like he had earlier. You wanted to scream how you loved him in his face and cry on his chest about how he was hurting you. But you stayed rooted in the bed. 

“Mm, alright then. Let her know that she needn’t seek me out then. If she truly does not want to see me. I won’t bother her.” He said coldly and you felt your face screw up in despair. 

“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m only saying she likely doesn’t want to be bothered and roused from an already uncomfortable sleep just so you can ask her what I’ve already asked a hundred times. It’s just allergies. It happens with the turn of the seasons.” Genya explained calmly, her voice steady. 

“I’ve known her for years now and she’s never had allergies at the turn of the seasons.” He stated. 

“Well, that’s the only thing that it can be. The Healer said it herself. She’s perfectly healthy otherwise.” Genya insisted. 

There was another long silence in the room and you could feel his near-black eyes boring into you, traveling your crumpled form. But he said nothing more. After a while, you heard his footsteps as he left the room and the door closed, much more carefully this time. 

You didn’t dare open your eyes until Genya sighed and gently tapped the back of your head, “He’s not here, it’s okay.” She murmured and you slowly opened your eyes. 

Another cry escaped your lips. 

-

The next few days were absolutely miserable. You’d spent the first day and half in your room, and when Genya wasn’t waiting on you, you were alone. Aleksander didn’t come to see you once, and you came to accept that it was just going to be your new normal. 

The first time you emerged from your bedroom in days was for dinner, and Genya held you tight to her side as she walked with you down to the dining hall. Normally, she didn’t eat with the other Grisha, but she had neglected many of her duties to the Queen to take care of you for the past two days. 

Now, three days had passed since you had last seen- or heard, rather- Aleksander, and you sat out in the courtyard on the grass with Genya. The red haired girl had insisted that you needed sunlight and she sat and read under a tree with you while you laid your head in her lap. You could hardly speak, and when you did, your voice was raspy and quiet. Every now and then, the girl would look over her book to check on you, and each time she did, she’d give you a kind smile. 

“Are you hungry?” She asked after a while and brought her hand up to your forehead to feel for your temperature. 

You shook your head weakly and rubbed your cheek with the back of your hand, “I don’t have an appetite, admittedly.” You murmured and she clicked her tongue, but didn’t press the subject. 

You tried your best to enjoy the cool breeze on your feverish cheeks, but you couldn’t seem to distract yourself from the pounding in your head and the raw burn in your throat.

“What are you reading?” You asked Genya absentmindedly and she hummed. 

“Reading up on rare diseases. I found a few books that have information about sicknesses and accounts of Grisha becoming ill with certain ones. I thought maybe it would help us figure out what’s going on with you.” She stated and turned a page as if on cue. 

A warm feeling tickled your nose and you felt it travel downwards until your skin was wet and you gasped and let out a curse. You sat up quickly and held your hand over your nose as it bled and you glanced down at the little bloody spot on Genya’s kefta. 

“Saints. I’m so sorry. I’m such a mess.” You breathed and cupped your hands underneath your nose to catch the rapidly flowing blood. 

The girl simply shook her head and pulled handkerchief out of her pocket and passed it to you, “Don’t be sorry. We can get the stain out easily.” She insisted, and you gratefully took the handkerchief from her and held it against your nose.

“Perhaps we should get you inside?” She suggested and you nodded once. You grabbed onto the tree with your free hand and balanced yourself as you rose to your feet. You felt winded as you stood and your throat began to prickle and you let out a groan that was cut short when you leaned forward and coughed viciously into the sleeve of your kefta. Little petals spewed out of your mouth as you coughed and got stuck with your blood onto the fabric of your sleeve, but you weren’t surprised anymore. Thorns and petals came along with the coughs now. At least now your nose had ceased its bleeding. You wiped your mouth with your sleeve and groaned in pain as you felt Genya touch your back. 

“Oh, Saints. Hurry. Let’s go inside. The Darkling is out here.” She said in a hushed tone, and though you two tried to hurry into the palace, it seemed you weren’t fast enough, because Aleksander called your name.

You looked up at Genya worriedly and she took a glance at your face. Blood was smeared under your nose and on your chin and she let out a huff before she snatched the handkerchief from your hand and quickly cleaned up your face. She stuffed the soiled fabric into her pocket once more and you turned around just in time to see Aleksander approach you with Alina not far behind.

His kefta billowed like smoke behind him in the breeze and when he reached you, his face was nothing short of irritated and accusatory. His beautiful face was set in an angry grimace and his eyes were hard. You shied back slightly and felt Genya’s hand press encouragingly into your back. 

“It must be rather fun ignoring me, since you’ve done it flawlessly for three days now.” He snapped and you looked down at your feet, biting down on the inside of your cheek. 

“I haven’t felt well, I’m sorry.” You mumbled. 

He snorted and reached out to grab your jaw, tilting your face up so that he could look down upon you, “That’s not an excuse. I don’t expect you to be prancing and frolicking around, but as someone who cares about you, I would at least like to be updated about your state.” 

His words sent a shockwave of sadness through your chest and you frowned, your eyes watering. You blinked away your tears rapidly, refusing to cry in front of him and Alina. He let go of your face slowly and he shook his head. 

“My dear, I worry about you, that’s all. I’m not truly angry, oh please don’t cry.” He said softly, his expression ridding itself of all anger as he watched your eyes gloss over with unshed tears. 

You shifted your gaze over his shoulder and watched as Alina gently grabbed his arm and he subtly pulled her into his side. The action had you biting down on your cheek hard, a terrible cough fighting its way up your throat. You felt something sharp rise to the back of your throat and you shoved past all three of them to get inside of the palace, holding your hands over your mouth as you raced to your bedroom. 

You were unsure of how you held it in for so long, but as soon as you got to your room, a violent retching sound ripped it’s way up through your chest and your throat and you fell to your knees and a slew of blood and petals came spewing out of your mouth. The heavy, sharp presence was still in the back of your throat and you coughed, and coughed, and coughed until you felt something shred the back of your throat and come loose. A rosebud tumbled from behind your lips, followed by a thick mixture of blood and saliva. You stared down at the sticky, bloody mess you had made all over your pale blue rug and you brought your shaky hands up to your clammy face, covering your mouth as you sobbed. 

Your chest ached and burned as if you’d swallowed blades and you let out a shrill scream of frustration. You sunk down onto the floor even further and curled up into a ball, your cheek resting a bit too close to the sticky puddle of blood and floral matter. You were too exhausted to care. Everything hurt, nothing made sense. Every breath you took sent shards of glass sliding down your throat and you coughed again, bits of petals getting stuck to your bloodied lips. You slowly closed your eyes and shivered once, reaching down and holding your knees to your chest. 

No one had followed you. Not even Aleksander. Even just thinking his name sent a pang of raw emotion through your chest and a few little tears rolled down your cheeks as you laid against the ruined carpets. Too busy with Alina. Too busy with everything. When did the busy excuses end? At what point did you need to accept that he didn’t love you as much as you loved him, and certainly not in the same way. You cursed yourself for thinking of him. Why were you thinking of him? He surely wasn’t thinking of you. You should have been thinking about why the hell you were sick. 

But all you could think about was Aleksander. 

-

You weren’t sure how or when, but at some point, you’d been moved up onto your bed and your blood-ruined dress had been switched out for a light, breathable nightgown. A hand dragged itself through your hair slowly and you almost thought you were imagining in your half-asleep state, until you heard voices. 

“I don’t really care. I will remove someone from the frontlines if we must. I need a very, very good Healer and I need them promptly.” 

You recognized Aleksander’s voice anywhere, and now that you were a bit more aware, you could tell that it was not Genya’s delicate little hand running through your hair.  

It was his. 

You kept your eyes closed and tried to enjoy the very minimally important action of his hand stroking your hair so gently. 

“Then find someone. But I don’t think this is anything to worry about.” 

That voice belonged to Genya, and you felt a sense of relief that she was still covering for you. 

“Genya, do not give me excuses any longer. I know she is ill. To the extent and with what, I am unsure. But she is my dearest friend, and I will not be so easily deterred from finding a solution to her health.” He spoke quietly, as if he didn’t want to wake you and you felt your lip nearly wobble. 

You didn’t know if you were joyful or devastated to hear him call you his friend. You longed for ignorance. You longed to think that he was here to confess his love for you, you wanted him to play with your hair like this for hours and hold you in his arms while you slept. 

You wouldn’t get your wish, though. 

“Sir, I think it would just be best to give her space.” Genya suggested quietly. 

Aleksander’s hand stilled against your head and went rigid, “And why do you say that?” He asked coldly. 

“Well, you just hardly… see her anymore. I think perhaps she’s a bit bothered by your neglect.”

“Has she told you this?”

“Yes.”

The room was silent and you wanted to sob as you felt his hand slowly leave your hair. You wanted to catch his wrist and bring it back, beg him to never let you go. 

“Well, she always has been a bit of a jealous little thing. She’ll get over it. I’ll be back to check on her tomorrow sometime.” He said dismissively and you felt the bed move and assumed he had climbed off of it. 

You waited until you heard him leave to open your eyes and you let out a long, ragged sigh. You felt the bed dip beside you and Genya was placing her hand against your forehead. She let out a little hum and then shook her head.

“You’re very lucky I managed to clean everything up before he came barging in here.” She said softly and reached down to grab your hand. 

Tears welled up in your eyes and you blinked them away, shrugging. 

“At some point we need to tell him what’s going on, Y/n.” She urged gently and then squeezed your hand as softly as possible. 

You felt a little wave of gratefulness in your chest at Genya’s determined and dedicated presence and you squeezed her hand back, “Eventually.” You murmured and then closed your eyes again, still feeling exhausted. 

“You sound terrible.” She noted and sat up against the headboard, resting her back against it. You very slowly rolled over and laid your head against her thigh and you sighed. 

“You’re my best friend, Genya.” You murmured. 

She let out a little sigh and she laid her hand on top of your head, “You really love him, don’t you?” She asked quietly. 

You didn’t answer her at first. She knew the answer and so did you, but the moment you spoke it aloud, it became real and it became capable of ruining everything. 

“Yes.” You finally answered in a squeak. 

There was a silence that filled the air around the two of you and you felt her lean over the edge of the bed for a moment. When she settled back in her spot, she tapped your head very gently and cleared her throat. 

“I found something. While you were sleeping.” She said almost nervously. 

“What do you mean, ‘something’?” You asked and stared off at the wall ahead of you. 

“I mean about your… condition.” She said quietly and you could hear her flipping through a book above you. 

Finally, she laid the open book down in front of your face and you reached up with a shaking hand to grab it. You sat up slowly with a bit of her help and laid the book in your lap as you peered down at it. The pages were old and weathered but the drawings were clear as can be. Roses were sketched onto the page and you ran your fingers over the paper as you read the text next to it. 

‘In extreme cases of unrequited love, the affected person will become sick with envy and begin to exhibit signs of serious illness…’

You blinked a few times and read through the recorded symptoms. 

Every single one was something you were experiencing.

“No. Absolutely not.” You breathed and looked up at a frowning Genya. 

“The symptoms are all there. This is what’s ailing you.” She said, her eyes growing watery. 

“Genya-“

“I’ll spare you the heavy reading. There is no cure, not unless he confesses his true and honest love for you.” 

You felt dread add itself to your already sore chest and you turned your head to look up at her. 

“Oh.”

She brought her hands up and cupped your cheeks and she shook her head, “I swear, we won’t let you die. We will find a way. Me and Baghra, Saints, I’ll even tell Him-“

“You can’t tell him.” You whispered and looked up at her tearfully, “You have to swear to me that you will not tell him. Genya, I’m begging you. Let him just… let him be happy with his Sun Summoner. He’ll forget about me, he’s already beginning to.” You said and sniffled, reaching up to wipe your eyes. 

Tears were falling down the redhead’s cheeks now and she shook her head, “No, this isn’t how it ends.” She said sternly and wiped her own eyes with the backs of her hands after she lowered them from your face. 

You leaned your head against her shoulder and closed your eyes, “I’m so tired.” You whispered, feeling exhaustion course through your body at a rapid rate. 

“Sleep, sweetheart. Please. I’ll stay here with you until morning.” Genya promised and you nodded. 

She helped you lay back onto the pillow behind you and she tucked the comforter around your shoulders before feeling your forehead once again.

“Thank you for being so good to me.” You whispered and she gave you a heartbreakingly sad smile. 

“What are friends for?”

-

The next morning was excruciating. A terrible coughing fit roused you from your sleep and you’d- yet again- made a bloody, flowery mess all over. This time, you helped Genya clean the mess up despite her protests. Once she’d helped you clean up, she announced that she had a hot bath drawn for you. 

You followed her into your bathroom and pulled your clothes off before you stepped into the hot water and let out a long, relieved sigh as you sunk down into it and sat. 

“I need to go tend to the Queen for a little while. I shouldn’t be too long. Will you be okay if I leave for just a few hours? If you need anything, I’ve already informed Baghra of your condition, you can go find her.” She explained and then gave you a little smile. 

“You’ve been busy this morning.” You commented and she shrugged. 

“Well, I’m just making sure you’ll be alright while we figure this all out.” She said softly and patted your head a few times, “Well, off I go. Please, please be careful. And if you have a coughing fit, do it over the tub. We can drain the water easily.” She said, half joking.  

You bid her farewell and she left your room and you sank deeper into the water, letting it soothe your sore muscles, though it didn’t do much for your stinging throat and aching chest. You brought a hand to your forehead and you felt a wave of melancholia drag you down. 

There was really no way that you were going to get out of this alive. It wasn’t like Aleksander was going to burst in on his knees and confess that he’d loved you the entire time, and you highly doubted that if a Healer couldn’t help you, then you were beyond help. You rubbed your temples very slowly and let out a very long, exasperated sigh, which triggered a few coughs. Little droplets of blood flew forward into the water from your mouth and you winced as a few petals loosed themselves from your throat as well. They floated atop the hot water and you picked one of the soft, pink petals up tentatively. It looked like a rose petal. It was a rose petal. You were grateful that it was only a few soft petals this time rather than the thorns and stems you’d cough up other times. You dropped the petal back in the water and you laid your head back against the edge of the bathtub weakly.

Your chin wobbled slightly and you closed your eyes just as tears started to stream out of them. You soundlessly cried as you sat in the steaming water and you reached up to hold your hands over your face as you cried. Soon enough, your cries were no longer soundless and you sobbed into your hands. Your whole entire body hurt and you were in agony. Emotional and physical agony. You wished for it all to stop and you pulled your hands away from your face and gripped the edges of the tub as you continued to cry with your eyes squeezed shut in pain.

Your mind wandered to Aleksander, something it often did, and you gasped painfully. You could practically feel his fingers running through your hair again, and you pictured what it would have been like if he had gathered you in his slender arms instead of just messing with your hair. The thought brought you a split second of comfort before it brought on waves of pain, crashing against your chest like rogue waves in a tumultuous ocean. 

Oh, you loved him. You couldn’t just stop loving him. Even though you sat and wished so desperately that you could. You gripped the edges of the tub impossibly tight and sputtered out a few heavy coughs that left your chest feeling split open. Your bathwater was tinged pink now and there was an arrangement of fragmented and full rose petals floating around in the water.  

A little tap made you open your eyes and you looked up to see Aleksander standing in the doorway of your bathroom. You made a move to cover yourself but he simply shook his head. 

“I’m not looking, it’s okay.” He stated, staying in the doorway. 

You glanced away from him sadly and you gave him a nod. You heard his boots tap against the marble floor and you heard a bit of rustling before you turned your head towards him again to see that he was now kneeling at the side of your tub. 

“You look terrible. Really, really terrible.” He commented. 

“Thanks. You really know how to make someone feel great, Aleksander.” You snapped and narrowed your eyes at him. 

He let out a sigh and shook his head a few times, “You’re still lovely. You just look miserable. Have you looked in a mirror recently? You look malnourished, you look poorly rested. Your face is sunken, your eyes are lifeless, you look terrible.” He explained and you laid your head down on the edge of the tub. 

“I’ll be fine.” You said nonchalantly. 

“Yeah, you all keep trying to tell me that but I don’t believe it all that much. Look at you. You can’t even move without it looking like it’s causing you pain.” 

“What do you care?” You asked and closed your eyes, biting back a sob. 

“What do I care? What do I care? Are you an imbecile? I care more than you seem to even care to imagine!” He snapped angrily and stood up abruptly. 

“Whatever. I know you’d rather be with your Sun Summoner right now. Please just go.”

“Saints, you’re such a bitter thing! You knew what the Sun Summoner coming here would mean. You know what it does mean. Get over yourself, this is bigger than you and your need for attention!” He exclaimed. 

Though he hadn’t, you felt as if he’d lifted you to your feet and slapped you until you fell. You slowly opened your eyes and looked up at him. Your eyes grew glossy with tears and you bit down on your cheek before you shifted your eyes away from a seething Aleksander.

“Please just go away.” You whimpered and brought your hands up to your face, hiding it from his sight. 

You cried silently for a moment and you rubbed your eyes vigorously before lifting your head out of your hands to tell him once more to leave. 

But he was already gone. 

-

The week leading up to the winter fete was exhausting. 

Not that you had been doing much other than laying around in your room and taking brief walks whenever Genya had a moment to accompany you outside. 

Nothing had improved though. 

You were still weak, still coughing, still in pain. Nothing was better, in fact, it seemed to only worsen by the day. 

The day of the fete was upon you and you had argued with Genya for nearly two hours so that she’d let you go. Finally, she had conceded and told you that you could go as long as you left early and were very, very careful not to cough around anyone. 

“And if you start feeling worse, you’re going right back to bed. Do you understand me?” Genya asked critically as she held a big, white box to her chest. Your dress. She was holding it hostage until you agreed to her terms. 

“Yes, fine, anything! I’ve waited so long to go.” You weren’t sure why you were so excited to go to the fete. You had previously been excited to go because you’d be going with Aleksander, but of course, that wasn’t the case now. You hadn’t seen him in nearly a week. Genya told you he’d been in to check on you while you slept, but you doubted it. You doubted a lot when it came to Aleksander these last seven days. 

Genya set the box down on a small table near the fireplace in your room and she opened it up, humming softly to herself as she did, “Pink? I didn’t pin you as a pink girl.” 

“Well, I am one. And it’s pretty, isn’t it?” You asked and watched as she pulled the gown out from the box. 

It was beautiful. It was a pale shade of blush pink with long sleeves and lots of beautiful embroidery and bead work. The dress earned you an approving sound from Genya and she looked over at you as you sat on the edge of your bed. 

“It is pretty, yes. I’m a bit worried you’ll stain it.” She said and eyed you with a frown, “Are you sure you want to go? You’re still so sick. Worse, even.” She said with a frown as she walked towards you and laid the dress out on the bed at your side. 

“I want to go. We can go together. Besides, I’ve been stuck in here for so long now.” You said, sighing dramatically. Your throat burned with your sigh and Genya watched as you brought your fingers to your throat. 

She quickly grabbed the waste bin next to your bed and held it up to you and you grabbed it. You coughed over it painfully for a few minutes, an array of petals and a few small thorns freeing themselves from your inflicted lungs. Genya held her hand against your back comfortingly and waited for you to spit the last of the sticky blood out and then she gently took the waste bin from your hands. She passed you a glass of water from your bedside table and you sipped it, even though it felt like you were swallowing broken glass. 

“Y/n, you look awful.” Genya said sadly and pushed some of your limp hair away from your face. 

You knew she was right. Your entire face had sunken in and you were aware of the dark circles under your eyes. Any luster your hair or skin once had was now gone and you looked dull and lifeless. You looked almost like a walking corpse. Your nails were thin and brittle and your lips were chapped and had traces of dried blood on them. You did look awful. 

Realistically, you could use your abilities and make yourself look better, but you had absolutely no energy to do so. You were lucky if you had the energy to get up and take a walk with Genya. You sighed quietly and wiped your lips with the back of your hand and shrugged once. You shakily passed the glass of water back to Genya and you rubbed your eyes. 

“Will you help me get ready? Nothing fancy, I just don’t wanna look so unhealthy.” You asked quietly and she nodded a couple of times.

She leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead and then offered her hands down towards you. You accepted them gratefully and pulled yourself to your feet with her help and she passed you your dress. 

“Go change, I’ll help you button up.” She prompted and you took the dress from her and wandered off towards the dressing screen in the corner of your room. 

You slid behind it and undressed yourself with weak, shaking hands, and you pushed your nightdress off of your body. You tossed it aside and then took on the next task of stepping into the soft pink gown. You climbed into the dress clumsily and once you’d pulled the sleeves on and gotten it situated on your body, you wandered out from behind the screen. Genya awaited you by your bed and you made your way over to her and turned around so that the undone back of your dress faced her. 

“You need to promise me one more thing.” Genya said quietly as she began to button up your dress nimbly. 

“What is it?” You asked, looking back over your shoulder at the redheaded girl. 

“Avoid the Darkling at all costs tonight please. Your condition worsens after he’s around, I’ve seen it. Please just, don’t seek him out, stay away from him. Have fun, mingle, have a drink, but leave him alone. For your sake, please.” She begged softly and then finished buttoning your dress. 

You nodded compliantly and you ran your hands down the front of your dress, smoothing it all down before turning around to face her. You smiled up at her and she pointed at a chair in the middle of the room. 

“Sit. I’ll fix up your hair and make you look a little less tired.” She said softly and you walked towards the chair. You sat down in it and you closed your eyes, a prickling becoming bothersome at the back of your throat. You swallowed it down and winced at the sharp pain sliding back down your throat. 

You just had to get through tonight. 

Genya stood behind you and she worked at your hair for a while until it was in simple waves. She then walked around to face you and she determinedly waved her hand over your face a few times slowly. After nearly fifteen minutes of this, she pulled away from you and handed you a hand mirror. 

“I did all that I could. How do you feel about it?” She asked. 

You glanced at yourself in the mirror and hummed. Though you still looked frail, you didn’t look nearly even half as bad as you had beforehand. You looked as if perhaps you hadn't slept in a few days but otherwise you seemed healthy. You looked up at her with a smile and you nodded, passing the mirror back to her. 

“Thank you. Truly, thank you.” You said softly and she gave you a sweet smile in return and kissed the top of your head. 

“I have to help the Queen get ready. Will you wait for me? I’ll come back and accompany you to the party.”

You looked over at her and gave her a little nod and stood up from the chair you sat in. You gave your friend a little hug and she hugged you back delicately, as if she was afraid you’d break. 

“Thank you. Really, Genya. For everything.”

“Don’t start talking like that. It almost sounds like goodbye and I won’t have it. I’ll see you in an hour or two.” She stated and then marched out of your room. 

Goodbye. You scoffed. You didn’t even want to think about goodbye yet. 

But of course now you were faced with the reality of it all. There was no obtainable cure to your ailment. The thought of it spread dread through your body like you’d never felt before and you felt even sicker than you ever had prior to today. 

A particular wave of nausea had you sprinting to the waste bin by your bed and you dropped to your knees and retched into it, your throat getting sliced up with an especially sharp slew of blood and thorns and a few battered petals. The door behind you opened and you heard a gasp from the doorway and wiped your face with the back of your hand before you turned around. 

Still on your knees, you looked up to see Aleksander’s personal favorite Healer, Emilia, standing in the doorway. The two of you stared at each other for a moment before she walked towards you and gently helped you to your feet. She looked over your shoulder into the wastebasket and then she looked up at your face, her mouth making a little ‘o’. She glanced back in the bin and then she shook her head. 

“Are those…?”

“Yes. They’re petals. Why are you here?” You asked and slowly sat down on the edge of your bed. 

“The Darkling sent me to check on you.” She whispered and then she placed her hand on your head, feeling your temperature. 

“Genya is doing a fine job on her own, thank you, Emilia.” You wheezed and then leaned your head into your hands. 

She stayed put for a moment and looked back and forth between you and your bloody, flowery vomit and then she gave you a tedious nod, “Yes, okay. I’m sorry to have intruded.“ she said quietly and you gave her only a small hum in response before she scuttled out of the room, retreating as if you were some feral dog, before you could even think to stop her. You would have certainly been wise to. 

You glanced at the door and felt a cold, sick dread fill your stomach. She was going to tell Aleksander. 

-

 You sat, slumped, in the chair by your fireplace and you closed your eyes, letting out labored breaths. Your chest had become impossibly tight and you sat in fear that Aleksander would burst in and berate you at any moment now. 

Your eyes filled with tears at the thought of just Aleksander and you wrapped your arms around yourself. It wasn’t like you couldn’t miss him. He was, at the end of the day, your best friend. Or at least, he had been. You didn’t really know where you stood with him now. 

Panic gripped your lungs when you heard hurried footsteps down the hallway and when the door swung open you winced. No yelling ensued and you turned around to see Genya standing in the doorway, gazing over at you with a little frown. 

“Are you sure you’re up to this?” She asked softly as she strode towards you. 

You simply gave her a little nod and you rose to your feet off of the chair and grabbed onto the hand she was now extending for you. She helped you steady yourself and she frowned once, pulling you into a gentle side hug. 

“Okay. The party has already started, I hope you don’t mind. There was a… choreographed display. Of shadow and light.” She explained slowly and then glanced down at you. You knew who she was talking about. Aleksander and Alina.

She gave you a sympathetic smile and you realized your face must have fallen, “I just figured you didn’t want to have to watch them.”

“No, I appreciate it. Thank you, Genya.” You said quietly and then nodded towards the door, “Let’s go. I don’t want to be out long tonight, I don’t think.” You murmured, a frown ever present on your face. 

She nodded just once and whisked you out of your room. The walk from the Little Palace to the Grand Palace was made in comfortable silence and you leaned your head against Genya’s shoulder. She wrapped her arm around your shoulders and gently patted your arm, and you let out a small sigh. As soon as the two of you walked inside of the Grand Palace, you instantly regretted coming to the fete. 

People were crowded around the hallway and spilled out from the room of the event, leaving you hardly any space to breathe. You wrapped both of your arms around Genya’s and you nearly buckled under the wave of nausea that crashed over you. 

Genya slowly pulled away from your side and she grabbed your hand and nodded towards the grand hall, “I’m going to go get a drink. Would you like one?” You nodded idly and she gave your hand a little squeeze, “Okay. Stay here. Don’t get around too many people.” She advised and you nodded again. 

She scurried off hurriedly down the hall and you looked down at your dress. You ran your fingers down the embroidered bodice and you let out a little sigh. You sorely regretted not staying in bed and you looked around at the other partygoers. Some were drunk, others were just boisterous. Most hid their sordidness underneath fine clothes and expensive perfumes. You looked down at your feet and felt guilty for making Genya drag you to the party and you turned to go find her. 

“Y/n!” 

You turned around to see Alina bustling towards you with two guards in tow behind her. You had to blink back the urge to cry when you saw her. She wore a black kefta with yellow and gold embroidery and her hair was done up beautifully. The nausea hit you harder and you held your hand over your stomach instinctively, giving her a terse smile. 

“Hello.” You breathed and leaned back up against the wall behind you. 

“You look beautiful.” She commented sweetly, “Feeling better?” She asked and you gave her a bleary nod. 

“Mhm, so much better.” You mumbled and sucked in a deep breath through your nose. A sharp feeling began to climb the back of your throat and you began to panic. 

“I’m glad to hear, you look so pretty. I’ve missed you readying me.” She admitted and then chuckled nervously. 

One of the guards leaned forward and mumbled something in her ear and she frowned, but nodded. 

“I have to get going. But please, come see me tomorrow.” She pleaded and you gave her a simple nod, your throat and chest beginning to ache and burn all the same. 

The guards urged her forward and everything began to sound as if you were underwater. You stared off absentmindedly after Alina and frowned deeply. Aleksander strode down the hall towards her and his eyes fell upon you. His stern expression seemed to falter a bit when he looked at you and you glanced down at the bundle of flowers he had in his hands. Your eyes filled with tears involuntarily and you watched as he stopped the guards that stood with Alina and he passed her the flowers before he locked eyes with you again. 

Your face burned with shame and sadness and your vision began to blur and shift and you pushed away from the wall dizzily, ignoring the muffled shouts of your name coming from his mouth. You shoved past a few people and gathered the skirts of your dress up in one hand and you rushed down the hallway. You stopped briefly a few times to steady yourself against the wall and you felt a sickening pressure at the back of your throat. You just had to make it back to your room. 

You carried on almost deliriously and you made your way into the nearly totally empty Little Palace. You bustled up the stairs with your hand over your mouth when a sharp cough ripped its way up your throat and you heaved forward, falling to your knees on the stairs as you coughed violently. Tears burned in your eyes and fell down your cheeks helplessly as you spewed the hot, metallic mixture of your blood and bile over your gloved hand. You crawled up the stairs weakly and you pushed yourself to your feet, leaving a bloody smear on the marble floor. You stumbled hurriedly down the hall to your room and you threw your door open as soon as you could. You fell to your knees again and let out a long, sad wail before you were coughing out thorns and petals all over the pristine skirt of your dress. 

The flowery vomit looked even worse tonight, and the blood mixed in with it was darker and there was much more of it. You coughed and heaved and choked on whatever was in your throat until an entire rose bloom came hurtling out of your mouth. You stared down at it shakily and reached out to touch it before you coughed again, much harder this time. Blood flew from your open mouth all over your carpet and your dress and your chin and you cried loudly, lowering yourself to the floor weakly. You reached up shakily to wipe your eyes with the back of your hand and you looked around at the bloody mess you had made and you whimpered. 

You thought about Aleksander again as you coughed more, your chest feeling as if it was going to collapse at any moment. You missed him.  You desperately wished it was you that he gave his affections to. You loved him. It became impossibly hard to breathe and you could see black spots dancing in your vision and you could swear you heard him calling out for you; Something so bittersweet that brought you so much comfort as you laid in a mess of your own blood and shredded flower petals. Your heart pounded against your chest and you could feel cold exhaustion climbing up around your mind. You could still hear his voice, closer now. You weren’t sure if you were ready to die, but at least you could try and make peace with it. You drew in a labored breath and then found yourself gasping in fear as you felt two hands grip your arms. 

You were yanked up against somebody and you slowly looked upwards to see Aleksander kneeling over you, holding you against his chest. 

“Say something, dammit!” He ordered, but his voice sounded far away. 

You tried to speak his name but your chest seemed to collapse in on itself and you turned your head to cough away from him, not wanting to get any blood on him. As soon as you finished coughing, he gripped your chin and turned your head towards his and he stared down at you wildly. 

“Y/n, I really, really need you to say something.” He pleaded and you weren’t sure if you were imagining the glint of unshed tears in his eyes or not. 

You let out another wail and you tried to push away from him, but his arms were like steel around you and you were too weak to even attempt to get away from him, so you resigned to crying in his arms. 

“Aleksander.” You wheezed and weakly grabbed onto the lapel of his kefta. 

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?” He demanded and cradled you gently against his chest. 

“You don’t care!” You cried, finding your very, very weak voice suddenly. 

“I do care!” 

“You don’t! You just care about Alina, you want Alina, you need Alina, you’re in love with Alina. You don’t care, and I don’t expect you to. Why should you? It’s my own miserable fault for falling in love with you.” You sobbed and felt as if you were going to vomit again. 

Aleksander didn’t say a single word. Instead, he leaned down until his forehead was touching yours and he nudged his nose against yours just slightly. You fought to get away from him, but he didn’t allow you to move. He shushed you softly as you cried and attempted to get as far away from him as possible and you sobbed, grabbing at his wrists.

“Stop! Please just leave me alone! I can’t take this.” You cried and hit his chest, but he still didn’t move. 

Tears rolled down your cheeks and you sniffled and eventually stopped trying to get away from him. He seemed to want to make it hard for you until your bitter end. One of his hands was gently moving through your hair as it had many nights ago and you whimpered, a sound that broke his heart. 

“I care. More than you know, little love.” He murmured and kept his forehead pressed against yours, “You think I don’t care? How could I not? You are so special to me.”

You cried and subconsciously leaned into his touch as he ran his fingers through your hair. 

“Please stop.” You begged. You wanted to cover your ears. 

“Stop what? Do you not want to hear how I care? How I feel ashamed of myself for making you feel as if I don’t? Do you not want to hear about how in love with you I am?” He asked in a whisper and you froze. His hand continued to sweep through your hair and you let out a loud cry and struggled against his arms as he lifted his forehead away from yours. 

“You’re lying.” You sobbed and brought your hands up to your face as you cried into them. 

“I’d never lie to you about something like this.” He insisted softly. 

“You are lying.” 

“How can you accuse me of that?” He asked, his tone incredulous. 

“Because I’m dying! I’m dying and you know it’s what I want to hear!” You argued, but you let your head fall against his chest nonetheless. 

“I don’t lie. I’ve never lied to you. Saints, you’re inconsolable. I have my own reasons for getting close to Alina, but none of them are even close to being because I’m in love with her. No, my love is saved for you and you alone.” He murmured, “I have loved you for years. Ages. For so long, hoping and praying that perhaps you’d see me in the same light one day. I never wished for it to be like this.” He finished, voice breaking just slightly at the end. 

You felt the tightness in your chest ease up just a little bit and you pulled your head away from his chest so that you could look up at him, only to find him already gazing down at you. You studied his face for any sign that he might be lying to you and when you found none you leaned your head against the side of his arm. You weakly nuzzled your cheek against it and you could hear him let out a long sigh. 

“Are you going to tell me what is wrong with you? Or are you just going to leave that to my Healer relaying information to me?” He asked and you shrugged once, more pressure leaving your chest. 

You let out a pathetic sounding sigh and you clung to him as if someone was going to take him from you and you quietly began to explain your condition to him, leaving little to nothing out. When you finished, the silence around the two of you was painful and you looked up at his face. He seemed angry and he seemed as if he was going to cry, but he looked down and met your eyes, and everything on his face melted into sadness. 

“I did this to you?” He asked quietly and you shook your head. 

“You couldn’t possibly have known. I mean, I didn’t. None of us did until Genya found it in a book.” You murmured and he gathered you entirely against his chest. 

“I’m so, so sorry.” He breathed, his voice practically trembling. 

“No, please. Don’t be sorry. It’s okay, everything is okay now.” You said hoarsely and he shook his head once but didn’t argue further. 

He stayed quiet for a moment before he sniffled and then slowly rose to his feet, pulling you with him, “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah? And then you can lay in my room.” He suggested quietly. 

“Okay.” You whispered, leaning against him entirely.

-

You sat in Aleksander’s bed an hour or two later, wrapped in a few thick blankets. You watched him scurry around his room as he tried to ready himself for bed and you smiled affectionately. After a moment he turned to you and let out a small sigh.

“What are you smiling at? You should be sleeping.” 

“Can’t. Not without you.” You murmured and he blew out a few candles in the room before he came and crawled into bed next to you, his arms snaking around your waist. He tugged you against his chest protectively and he let out a long sigh. 

Your damp hair was splayed out over the pillow behind your head and you pushed it away from him, clearing a little space for his head on your pillow. He took the hint and scooted his face closer to yours and he nudged his nose against yours a few times. 

“You looked so beautiful tonight. In the hallway. In your pretty dress. I think pink might be your color now.” He said sweetly and you shook your head, leaning in to peck his lips a few times. 

He took the opportunity to capture your lips in a deep, long kiss and finally when the two of you were properly breathless, you pulled away and shook your head. 

“Forget pink. Black looks nicer on me, anyway .”

#aleksander morozova imagine #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova x you #the darkling x you #the darkling x reader #the darkling imagine #the darkling imagine #the darkling #general kirigan imagine #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan #shadow and bone imagine #grishaverse #shadow and bone #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes imagine

[simp2537]

Can you write a Darkling x reader fic where reader (who is his wife for thousands of years and he cannot live without) is accidentally hurt by his nichevo'ya. Angsty where Aleksander is really guilty and scared he lost the only person he loves, maybe some comfort from reader as well?

Scars

a/n : I heart angst so much, it’s angst with a happy end cause I heart that ❤️❤️❤️. Reader is a Tidemaker.

Warnings: nichevo’ya attack on reader, blood, Alina hate, guilty Aleks, mentions of reader having an abusive home life

Aleksander Morozova x fem! Reader

Aleksander stood froze staring at his wife’s blood on his hands. His darling wife, the one who’d stayed by his side through it all. Through all years, hundreds of years surviving together and he’d…. he’d hurt her. He stared at his wife’s form as she slept on there bed. He hadn’t meant to.. he thought they’d leave her alone.

Aleksander stood in his room after a coughing fit. Y/n walked in and gently grabbed his shoulder, in hopes of comforting him when the nichevo’ya appeared. They thought that his sweet wife had cause him pain. They dug its claws into her side.

“No! No! Not her!” He yelled but it was too late. They had thrown her across the room, her blood pouring into the carpets. Aleksander rushed to her, grasping her into his arms.

He cradled her as her eyes weld up with tears. He held her face as he apologized over and over. His dark irises soon flooded with tears as he called for a healer. Fruzsi ran in and gasped at all the blood surrounding the pair.

Healers rushed into the room and Aleksander brought her to there bed. He watched with worry in his eyes, he watched with fear as they healed her. His grisha had never seen such fear in his eyes, not when they were being attack by Alina, not when he was freeing other grisha, never had they seen such fear in his eyes.

The healers worked quickly to heal their Generals wife and the most powerful Tidemaker. Fruzsi watched as the healers finished with uncertain looks at each other. They whispered in her ear, words that made her shudder.

“She’s weak and has lost a lot of blood, she might not make it through the night.” The healer mumbled. Fruzsi shock her head fiercely, Y/n was strong, she’d been her mentor, her friend for years. Unfortunately for them all their General caught their curt and quiet whispers.

No, this would not take his wife- Aleksander would try to reason. His wife was stronger than she gave herself credit for. She’d survived hundreds of years by his side through endless battles. He couldn’t be the cause of his beloveds death, he couldn’t be.

“Not her, never her.” Aleksander mumbled to low for any to hear but himself. And his nichevo’ya. They were to never touch her.

Aleksander sat in his wooden chair staring down at his hands in horror. He swore to never touch her, never hurt her. It was in his vows he’d made hundreds of years ago when they were young. He swore when they married in that tiny ceremony, just them and the minster that he’d never lay a hand on her like her father, her mother.

Now she laid possible dying because he’d failed to control his own nichevo’ya. Y/n had never been fearful of his shadow monsters, they were a part of him so naturally, his sweet Y/n loves them as she loves him. A soft rustling on there bed caused Aleksander to look up, Y/n’s eyes were open, just barely.

“Darling!” He reach to grasp her hand but stopped. His hand was still covered in her blood. Weakly he watched Y/n reach for him, he wiped his hand in his kefta and gently took her hand in his. The bed dipped slightly as he sat next to her frame, Y/n hazily squeezed his hand.

With his free hand he held her face. She nuzzled in the warm he provided her, the safety. Her eyes blinked slightly as she tried to sit up.

“Sasha…?” She muttered softly as he gently pushed her down.

“Don’t, you’re still injured and still weak.” His voice cracked with pain as he spoke. Y/n grasped at his scared face and pull him down with all the might she could muster. Aleksander rest his forehead against hers as he listened to her soft breathing. “Sasha… I’m okay.” Y/n promised, Aleksander scoffed. He could practically see the lie, her lip was tight, her nose ever so scrunched. She was in pain and he knew it.

“No you’re not Y/n. You’re not okay and it’s my fault- I’m so sorry.” Y/n couldn’t remember that last time he used her name. She’d grown so accustomed to the pet names he’d use.

“It okay.. I’m okay.”

“No! No you’re not and it’s all my fault!”

“I will be okay.” Aleksander sighed softly. No matter what he did she wouldn’t care. Deep down he knew she was far too good for him. He was a monster and she… she was the ocean strong and beautiful. Still he feared one day she would realize how much better she deserved.

“Sasha? Lay down with me please.” Y/n mumbled. Aleksander shock his head.

“No absolutely not love, I’m not going to do that right now.” Y/n shot him a glare.

“I meant cuddle you dirty minded old man.” Aleksander laughed gently and kiss her forehead. He slowly laid next to her, not wanted to injure his beloved further. With an annoyed huff Y/n slowly and with a grimace moved onto his body. Aleksander instinctively wrapped his arms gently around her, bringing her closer to him.

“Sasha? Please don’t worry too much. I’ll be okay.” Y/n promised as she drifted to sleep. Aleksander laid awake for much longer as he monitored her.

“I promise, you will be.”

#aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova x you #alina starkov #shadow and bone netflix #answered #general kirigan x reader #the darkling imagine

[kasagia]

Can't catch me now...

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x grisha! reader Summary: The Hunger Games in Ravka. 12 districts. 12 tributes. 12 mentors. 11 young people die every year. 1 winner. Aleksander was a mentor to many. But only your face will haunt him for centuries. Inspired by: The Hunger Games. I changed the world of both of them a bit. I was supposed to write something else, but this came to my mind and... Word Count: 4,9k Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist PART 2

"The tribute from District 12! Y/N Y/L/N!"

You doubt you will ever forget this day. Or the terrified faces of Alina and Mal when the Peacekeepers pulled you out of the row and pushed you towards the stage.

An orphan from Kerazmin was sent to the Hunger Games for certain death.

The Hunger Games are held annually to commemorate the Great Battle of Ravka, in which Grisha and the inhabitants of Ravka took part. The House of Lantsov took over the country and strengthened its position by killing the rebels with the help of Grisha, led by the Darkling.

The Darkling helped them in exchange for a promise that no Grisha would ever suffer at the hands of Ravka's rulers again. His successors created the Little Palace, a safe haven for Grisha. The Lanstovs, on the other hand, continued the annual killing of 11 children from the Ravka districts. They put on a show for the people, the snobbish nobility, and the Grisha, who gloated over how the children of their captors were now fighting for their lives in the arena as they used to in the Old Ravka.

If it weren't for the Darkling's help, the world would be different.

Lantsov would not have come to power. The fold would not exist. And the Hunger Games would never have happened.

"12. We are in captial." you smile thankfully and nod to the boy from District 11.

You disembark with the other tybutes, and each of you holds your breath as you see the gates of Os Alta in the distance. Your district was poor, like mainly all of them, and Karemzin was certainly not the most beautiful. But the forest around the city gave you a strange feeling of peace. Home.

"Get in line! You will be checked by medics! We don't want any pandemics in the capital because we brought some rats to play with."

Each of you is bursting with anger at the soldier's words. But with so many Peacekeepers around you, none are brave enough to disobey orders.

You're last in line. You are waiting for a woman to approach you. You know she is Grisha from her clothes—a beautiful red kefta. You feel nauseous as the woman's hands touch your forehead, but you stand still and straight. You definitely won't show them you're scared, especially Grisha.

Grisha frowns. He nods at the peacekeeper. You feel yourself turning pale, your hands clasped behind your back, shaking slightly as you realise something is wrong. You create various scenarios in your head, and when Peacekeeper reaches for something attached to his hip, you already say goodbye to life. You raise your eyebrows in surprise when he pulls out something else instead of a gun.

"I'm not a Grisha." you say firmly, recognising the device the Grisha's use to test if someone has the ability to practice their 'little science'. "I was examined when I was young."

"We shall see." the healer who checked you says.

She nods at the soldiers. You are pushed into carriages. 6 people to one. You're a bit cramped, but it's better than sharing one carriage. You take the opportunity to fall asleep, resting your head against the window, as the quiet conversations and the sound of squeaking wheels hitting the path in the forest lull you to sleep.

You gather in a large room that is too over-decorated for your taste. You were bathed and changed into new clothes, all to appear before the king and the inhabitants of the capital.

You stand tense, playing with the sleeves of your dress. You've watched the Hunger Games once. The tybutits gathered in the great hall before the king and presented their image to Ravka and its inhabitants. The one who sold best gained the most sponsors. And therefore, food, water, medicines, and weapons in the arena.

But apart from the soldiers, there was no one around you.

You shiver slightly when suddenly the door bursts open and several soldiers dressed in black enter. The oprichniki. You swallow as, between them, you see the Darkling himself.

You saw him once in the newspaper at Prince Vasily's funeral.

He was terrifying.

There was an aura of power and composure around him. He dominated a room full of people, and seeing him in person only strengthened your belief that the man in front of you was pure danger and unlimited power.

Rumours spread throughout the country that he would one day depose Lantsovs from the throne. And no one would be surprised if someone from the Darkling's family line finally came to power.

"General Kirigan!" the oprichnik shouts.

The soldiers salute him, and some of the tributes bow. You stand straight, watching him carefully as he slowly walks towards the centre of the room. He stands before you and looks at you all. His dark eyes meet yours in a burning gaze a few moments longer than the rest. He clears his throat, breaking the absolute silence, and begins his speech.

"It is a great honour to take part in the Hunger Games. It is an even greater honour to survive them and become a resident of Os Alta, so do not waste your chance. You will soon go to a meeting with your mentors and then to the throne room, where the king will officially open this year's Hunger Games. You will have two weeks to prepare for entering the arena. But before that, like every year, we will take you through a small test. Don't worry, it will only take a moment." He claps his hands, making some of you tremble. He chuckles, darkly amused, and looks at you one by one again. "Who's first? Maybe District 1?"

Everyone's eyes turn to the little boy. The kid is maybe 12 years old, no more. On shaky legs, he approaches the Darkling. You clench your jaw as you watch the amusement in the peacekeepers' eyes. At least the Darkling and his people had the decency not to scare the boy more or make fun of him.

The Darkling pierces his skin with his ring, creating a small wound. The boy lets out a small squeal of pain but doesn't remove his hand. The Darkling whispers something to him and gives him his black handkerchief. The boy takes it hesitantly, thanks it, presses it to the wound, and returns to his place in line.

And so on. Some come back with a larger wound on their arm, others with a slight bite, like a little boy. Until it's your turn.

You approach the Darkling, staring at the window behind him and the view of the forest from which you came here. You stand in front of him, waiting for him to pierce your skin. But it's not like that. An uncomfortable, disquieting silence descends. You shift your gaze to him and can't help but shiver as you find his dark irises staring intently at you.

"What are you?" he asks, still staring at you, searching for something you can't quite place. You don't know why he does it. He didn't speak to the rest of the tibutes.

"Y/N Y/L/N from district 12." you answer his strange question, proud that your voice isn't hoarse. The last time you drank water was three days ago.

He smirks at your response and at the fact that you keep his gaze on you, unlike the rest of the people who stood in front of him. He is partly disappointed that you're doing it. He decides it would be nice to grab your chin and force you to look into his eyes. But your supposedly brave attitude is a pleasant refreshment for him.

"I asked you… what are you?" he repeats it in a monotone tone of voice.

"This year's tribute, sir." you say, confused, not knowing what exactly he wants to hear from you or what he is asking you about.

"That I can see. Answer the question. WHAT are you?" he insists and you can't find a good answer.

An orphan? Nobody's daughter? A friend?

"I... no one." you say, staring into his dark eyes like hypnotised.

You feel incredibly stupid and tremble as the soldiers' laughter echoes throughout the room.

But the Darkling doesn't join them, there's no trace of amusement in his eyes, now almost black as his shadows, as he watches you carefully.

He's judging you. You don't know why his attention is fully on you or why he needs someone… as worthless as you, but everything changes the moment he raises his hands and summons his shadows.

They surround the soldiers, immediately silencing them, and there is a deafening silence in the room again. You feel like it's just you and him and no one else.

"Interesting... we shall see and find out." he gently brushes his finger against your wrist. "Now, your sleeve, if you allow."

He doesn't wait for your answer or movement and rolls up the sleeve of your dress himself, with a carefulness that amazes you. The Darkling is known for many things, but certainly not for any form of gentleness.

You wait for the pain that will come from his ring piercing your skin. But the wound he gives you is not that terrible compared to others he made for the rest of the tributes. And the strangest thing about it all is that not a single drop of blood leaks from it.

You feel a strange warmth spread throughout your body where he touches you. He tightens his grip on your shoulder more, as if he's searching for something. The warmth is spreading deeper within you until suddenly you feel it piercing right through your heart.

You close your eyes at the intense feeling that washes over you. You stop breathing as suddenly the room fills with blue light emitting from you. The wind picks up, the ground shakes under your feet, and the small pieces of plaster begin to fall off the ceiling. You're not sure, but you think you hear someone screaming echoing through the room.

You meet the Darkling's gaze. He stares at you with some kind of pride and satisfaction. Like a predator when he finally catches his great prey. You pull away your hand from his grip, still holding defiantly his gaze. You probably wouldn't have been so brave under different circumstances, but after all, you were a participant in the Hunger Games. You were already dead anyway.

"Wed'ma." whispers spread throughout the room as everything returned to normal. The other Grisha help one of them, the one closest to you, get up from his lap. He's breathing quickly, he's pale, and you see a trickle of blood coming from his mouth. You realize that you are not bleeding like the tributes before you did from the wound inflicted by the Darkling.

"She is not a witch. Show a little respect. The Merzost Holder is standing in front of you." he announces. Grisha falls silent, staring at you in shock and awe as the others give him confused looks. Including you.

"What the blody hell?" you whisper, but he either doesn't hear you or ignores you, sending everyone else out of the room. Only you and his oprichniki remain.

When the door closes with a loud bang, you somehow regain the ability to speak. You straighten up, looking up to meet the Darkling's dark eyes still fixed on you. You shiver, swallowing, as you gather the courage to ask him a question.

"What the fuck is going on here?" he grimaces at your aggressive tone and crude swearing but decides to ignore it and answer your question. He decides he still has plenty of time to train you once your emotions fade away.

"You wield the merzost. Power from the borderline of little science. Its layers… are within you. The saints have marked you as the living source of this. A little science prevents us from creating new things, and trying to use Merzost is mostly deadly, if not disastrous, for those who try to use it, but you… you can manipulate it to your heart's content. You hold the magic that is hidden at the heart of the world—the power of creation, of life over death."

"I am not a Grisha." he laughs loudly and mockingly at your words, making you shiver.

"Wasn't this little show enough to convince you? It was definitely for me. I've seen many Grisha, but you're one of a kind for now. Your power may have been unheard of, but you exist in our literature. As a myth. A legend, a bedtime story for children. Our ancestors believed that one day a Grisha would appear so powerful that they would be able to move the sea, destroy continents, and restore lives. That there will appear a saviour who will give us eternal greatness and make us receive the respect we deserve. We have been waiting a long time for you, miss Y/L/N."

"Well, then you'll have to wait a little longer. I'm a tribute. I'll probably die in the games."

"You don't think I'm going to let my Grisha be part of this, do you?" he asks you mockingly. Before you can answer, the door opens again, and two heartrenders walk in. "Excellent timing. Ivan, Fedyor, you will escort Miss Y/L/N to the Little Palace. Make sure our Merzost Holder gets all the amenities she needs after the traumatic time she endured in the district and on the way here."

Your first thought is to resist him and run away from there as far as possible, but there is nothing you can do. It's either follow them or go back to the Hunger Games, which you don't want.

So you hide your pride in your pocket and walk between the two men, guided by the Darkling's watchful, careful gaze that makes you shiver. You sigh in relief as soon as the door closes behind you and you're free from his dark eyes.

But something tells you that you won't be free from this dangerous man's company for long.

Especially when, after he touched you, you felt some strange connection to him that you couldn't explain. Something that made you more terrified than your untamed, wild and new power.

The chamber they take you to is ridiculously luxurious. The amount of gold and decorations in it alone could feed your entire orphanage for years.

As a poor orphan, you learned to measure the value of things like food and warm clothes. Probably like other residents of the districts. Only in the capital and larger cities did people have higher values than survival.

Your thoughts returned to Mal and Alina. You hoped that the two of them could handle it until you figured out how to get out of the mess you were in.

You look at your hands, reflecting on everything that has happened in these few days. From a poor orphan, you became a tribute in the Hunger Games and then the holder of some strange Grisha's power that you had no idea about.

And the worst part of it all was that you were still so damn hungry.

Suddenly, someone knocks on your door. Before you can answer, the Darkling himself enters, followed by a red-haired woman in a white kefta and two maids. They both hold the trays, put them on the table, and leave silently, closing the door behind them, leaving you with a woman and a shadow summoner.

The redhead walks up to you and holds your chin, watching you closely and tugging on your hair, tilting your head back. You aggressively push her hands away from you and step back.

"Ouch. I thought districts taught some culture, right?"

"Sorry, I don't feel very cultured when a strange woman comes up to me and plays with me like with some rag doll."

The Darkling chuckles softly as he sits down in one of the plush armchairs. His posture seems a little more relaxed than when he entered the room earlier. There is no longer anger or desire for committing murder on his face.

"Calm down, little wellspring. Genya is here to… gently improve your appearance." he says, pointing at your outfit. You blush slightly at his remark, but you realise that anyone in your situation would look... like they took it out of a dog's throat.

"What for?" you ask suspiciously, crossing your arms, which somehow makes him more amused. He's slowly starting to irritate you.

"And here I thought you'd be grateful that we wanted to get you to… a more human state." he says, revealing the first tray. The black gloves he wore contrasted with the gold tray lid, catching your attention. You wondered why he needed them on such a warm day...

The smell of food hits your nostrils, making saliva pool in your mouth and making you forget about anything else. Your stomach screams at you to eat the food given to you as quickly as possible, but your willpower and common sense win.

"What do you want?" you ask firmly and look at him defiantly.

"The king, despite my numerous persuasions, did not agree to... remove you from the Hunger Games. It probably has something to do with... the type of power you have. The old fool is probably afraid that we will start a rebellion that you will lead. He hopes that you will die in the games, and this will take care of itself for him."

"He is right. We know I have no chance of surviving." the calmness with which you say this surprises him. His mocking, confident demeanour crumbles for a moment as he looks at you carefully, analysing this new side of you he didn't see yet.

However, by the smirk that forms on his lips, you realise that he isn't losing interest in you at all. Your mysteriousness only further ignites the fire of curiosity within him. And being close to him is the last thing you want right now.

"Maybe not alone, but with me as your mentor? We shall see..." he says thoughtfully, his eyes piercing right through you. You lose this little staring contest, feeling too uncomfortable under his scrutinising gaze. "Now eat. You must have strength. And Genya will improve your appearance in the meantime. Don't make this already... demanding task more difficult for her."

You sit on the chair that is furthest from him and take some food from the tray. You chew in silence, watching the two of them. When you're full enough that your stomach won't growl, you decide to put the food aside to share something with him that he probably won't like.

"I won't win. You better get ready for it." You say with great confidence and he raises his eyebrows.

"And why is that, if I may ask?" he asks mockingly, as if he already knew that your victory was a foregone conclusion.

"I am not going to kill anybody during the games." you state, and Genya, who was combing your hair, freezes.

You both look at the Darkling, waiting for his reaction, who for now stares at you in surprise. He clenches his jaw and fists as he realises the meaning of your words. You see anger in his dark eyes.

"Are you mad?" he asks surprisingly calmly, probably surprising both of you. However, you see shadows begin to flow from his hands, circling around the feet of the chair he was sitting in as he gave you a look that could kill and certainly scare many.

"Probably."

"Listen to me carefully. We didn't wait hundreds of years for you to come here with your bratty, saintly attitude, willing to martyr yourself in the name of nothing at the stupid Hunger Games. You're going to win it, and you're going to do everything I tell you to do with a damn smile on your pretty face that will charm sponsors enough to invest money in you. Do you understand, underdog from 12?"

His angry speech and growl through his teeth do not intimidate you. He needs you alive so he won't hurt you, and you'll die soon anyway, so what difference does it make if you show him respect? You lean towards him slowly, bravely enduring his angry glare and returning it with your own.

"You can kiss my ass, shadow man." you speak slowly, loudly, and clearly.

You hear Genya sigh softly behind you, and you see him frown in anger. He throws the tray (which was still full of food and on the table) at you. He leaves your rooms without looking at you and slams the door hard as he takes his shadows with him.

"That… that was really stupid and brave." Genya says that once she has recovered from his small outburst of anger.

She saw people who, for less, were cut in half with the cut form from his shadows. But there you were, coming out of the verbal fight with him without a scratch because you managed to jump away from the tray he threw at you.

"I am dead anyway." you say, shrugging. There was no way you were getting out of this alive.

Genya smiles at you sadly, comfortingly in a twisted way, and gently caresses your cheek with her hand.

"Come. We'll make you look breathtaking before the presentation." she says, sitting you in another chair as she begins to prepare you to perform in front of Ravka's nobility.

The way she talked to you afterwards made you feel calmer and more comfortable. But you couldn't help but feel remorse when the maids came to clean up the food and immediately threw it in the trash like it was nothing. So many people could feed off this...

You came back tired from the presentation. You had to say a few words about yourself, which was extremely difficult for you, and after that, the host mentioned that you were Grisha.

The first Grisha in the Hunger Games.

You know from Genya that this information made some sponsors, curious about your unusual case, invest some money in you. Enough to cover the cost of creating your kefta and providing you with other outfits for future Hunger Games promotional events.

You think you have a few weeks before going to the arena. Before that stupid game for the royalty and nobilities.

You were preparing to go to bed when they allowed you to stay in a Little Palace as a sign of respecting the rules between the Lantsov dynasty and Darkling, when suddenly someone knocked on your door.

Whoever it was, they didn't wait for an answer.

The Darkling walked into your chamber, closing the door behind him. He looked at you and then sat on one of the armchairs, not taking his eyes from you even for a while.

"Normal people wait to be invited before entering." you say, crossing your arms as you stare at him expectantly as he sits back and takes the grapes in his gloved hands.

"Normal people don't want to die, but here you are." he replies sarcastically, at which you roll your eyes. A little more confident, you take a step towards him, giving him a defiant look as he raises his curious gaze at you.

"What do you want?"

"To discuss tomorrow's tactics with you." he replies calmly, eating a grape. Your gaze lingers on his lips for a moment before you meet his piercing, dark eyes again.

"Do you think that after your behaviour, I will cooperate with you in any way?"

"I shouldn't have reacted like that. Not many people surprise me, Miss Y/L/N. Let's just say… I'm not used to having someone who rebels against me in such a brazen way." he says, looking you up and down appraisingly. You somehow stop yourself from trembling under his gaze and calm yourself down enough to answer without an ounce of trembling in your voice.

"You haven't seen my true impudence yet, General."

"I guess… Why are you so eager to die?" the sudden change of topic causes you to frown in confusion.

He's the last person you want to talk to about why you don't want to kill. You won't open up. Certainly not in front of him—the man who killed thousands without blinking his eye.

"I don't want to die." you decide to give him that simple answer before you also reach for the grapes he's eating and take some for yourself.

You don't gorge yourself in front of him, even though your stomach is growling. You won't give him any more reasons to treat you like an animal. The people of Os'Alta had enough of them anyway.

"But you say you won't kill anyone. That you are going to die." he reminds you, gently pushing the bowl of fruit towards you, which you miss as you think about what answer to give him.

"Because I know that will happen. I won't survive long without killing another, but it doesn't mean that I want to die. I just have humanity in me. Not like the others."

"It will be only a matter of time. Your behaviour will change in the arena. The will to survive is greater in crisis situations than any morality. I assure you. I've seen many good men turn into pure animals after they went to the arena." the faraway look in his eyes as he stares at the fireplace behind you tells you he's not telling you the whole truth. Maybe he saw it, but definitely not in the arena. You wonder what he could mean.

"I would rather die than lose who I am." you answer with all the confidence you can muster.

"You have no choice. I will drag you out of this arena by myself if I have to. You are too important for Grisha to just die." his words make you angry.

You know that some plans for you appeared in his head the moment he somehow activated the merzost within you. You could have seen it in his eyes then. Their strange source of ancient magic was inside you, and he wanted to use it for his plans. But you don't want to be some mythical fairy tale creature for Grisha.

"I am not a hero or any other saint!" you growl through your teeth in anger and clench your fists at your sides.

Unbeknownst to you, shadows begin to thicken around you, and the room plunges into darkness. You only realise what's happening to you when the Darkling stares at you in silent admiration and curiosity, a small smile tugging at his lips as he rubs his chin and his rough, short beard in pure, growing interest.

"You will be whoever I want you to be. Do you understand me?" he asks, ignoring for now this little show of your power.

You have no idea how you managed to amplify his shadows and make them more visible to you. Apparently, you had to learn to control this strange thing before you did something terrible. Again.

You shiver, pushing away the unwanted memory and instead focusing on your anger at him. You decide to respond very eloquently to his threat/order.

"Fuck you."

He just laughs at you as he stands up. Only a small coffee table separated you, and you again realised how powerful and intimidating he was as he towered over you while you still sat on the couch. You feel a chill against your ankle as his shadows gather at his and your feet before disappearing.

You stand up as he walks around the coffee table and walks over to you. He lifts your chin with his gloved hand, forcing you to look into his eyes. You don't feel that strange electricity like before when his skin touched yours, but the tension between us is still palpable. At least for you. Your fingers tingle to touch him, to run your hand over his shadows. You know that the moment you do this, darkness will fill the room again.

You have no idea why, but the thought suddenly seems exciting. You have a strange desire to create something from its shadows. Model them at your discretion. And you're more confused than the intensity with which his eyes stare into yours.

"I give you two days. You'll change your mind, little wellspring. Your power is too great to simply let it waste in the grave. Think about it." he says this and walks past you, gently hitting your shoulder with his. You turn and watch as he leaves and closes the door behind him, leaving you alone in the empty room.

And when you are finally alone, you allow yourself to pounce on the food that has been left for you. Once you've eaten your fill, you start to realise what kind of crazy sh*t you've gotten yourself into.

You look at your hands and close your eyes, pressing them together. You focus on the strange tingling feeling on the inside. You open one eye and gasp as you see the black mass—the thread connecting both of your arms—that is cool to the touch.

A silent scream escapes your lips as you shake your hands hysterically, trying to get rid of it. The black mass disappears the moment you lose your focus. You put your hand to your mouth, letting yourself kneel on the floor as you sob as quietly as possible. You can't hold back your tears as the memories of blood, screaming, metal, and the feeling of shortness of breath come back to you. You rock back and forth, taking shaky breaths. You only wake up from your trance when the first rays of sunlight hit your eyes.

And so goes your first night in the Little Palace.

#general kirigan #oneshot #the darkling #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova x y/n #darkling #shadow and bone #the darkling x reader #aleksander kirigan #darkling shadow and bone #darkling x reader #the darkling x you #general kirigan x you #general kirigan x reader #genya safin #aleksander x reader #aleksander morovoza #hunger games #hunger games au #fanfiction #romance #manipulation #toxic relationship #toxic love #the hunger games #hunger #miniseries #series

[shootwithintenttokill]

Can we talk about Jesper Fahey unintentionally being one of the most powerful Grisha in the Grishaverse? (Bear with me)

Okay, agreed, Jesper struggles with doing basically anything intentionally. Makes sense - he was never trained.

But if we consider what he can do; controlling the path of bullets. Taking tiny chunks of metal moving at ~120-370 m/s, and directing them. And not just a little bit. He literally managed to make his bullet curve 90° around a right-angle corner. This is a skill we see no other Fabrikator able to do, and you would have thought, if it was a common ability, or even ever seen before, the Darkling or the Triumvirate would have utilised it in the Second Army. They have not. The only people known to use it are Jesper and his mother.

(And let's just give an honourable mention to Aditi Hilli, who could extract poison from the bloodstream of another person. You remember how the tidemakers in the Ice Court needed to be on Parem to mess with a person's blood? But Aditi Hilli? ...I don't want to say no problem, because she did die, but she saved Leoni too, so... half-marks? I'm just saying Jesper has some serious badass genes.)

Actually, talking about the tidemakers on parem, Jesper, with no training and having all the blood in his body sucked out of him, still managed to kill them with dust. A rather dark trick, but one we've never seen David Kostyk, or Leoni Hilli, considered the two most powerful Fabrikators alive during canon, replicate.

But the real reason Jesper is so powerful has very little to do with that, so much as HOW he does it. Every grisha alive used their arms to direct their abilities. After being captured by the Darkling in S&S, Alina has her hands bound, and says something about how she can summon, but not direct light without her hands, so she's basically powerless. It's obviously a common tactic, because the Druskelle do the same thing with Nina and the other Grisha they captured, and only after they get their hands freed on the sharp edge of a broken cup can they use their abilities again.

The only people we see not using their hands for the small science, in fact, are Adrik, who has to relearn his technique after he loses an arm, and, of course, Jesper Fahey, who can direct bullets with his mind - no hand movements required.

If anything, it's probably this ability that makes him so good at directing bullets. After all, at the speed a bullet is going, you don't have time to be waving your hands around to control it. What's especially funny to me is that before Wylan pointed it out, he had no idea he was even doing it. He was using an ability no other Grisha can, and Didn't Know. Can you imagine him mentioning that to Nina... or basically any Second Army Grisha.

("You can control bullets?"

"...you can't?"

"...how?"

"I'm not sure. I mean, my mother sort of taught me, but also I didn't really realise I was doing it until my boyfriend pointed it out, you know?"

"...YOU WERE ACCIDENTLY CONTROLLING BULLETS?!!!")

This is, of course, all book canon, but somehow the show takes it even further. It hasn't been officially revealed Jesper's Grisha in the show, but there are enough clues - Jesper repairing Kaz's cane, Ivan's cut-off comment after their fight, not to mention the fight itself - that I'm taking it as canon. In this, it is accepted NO ONE can use their grisha abilities, except merzost, without first touching their hands together. Not The Darkling, not Alina, no one. Except, of course, Jesper Fahey, who can shoot his bullets and direct them to the exact same point on a kefta, after deflecting them off random objects first.

Tl;dr: Jesper Fahey is amazing and crazily powerful and should be appreciated.

#jesper fahey #six of crows #shadow and bone #siege and storm #jesper fahey appreciation post #jesper is wierdly powerful? #and it's just never talked about? #I'm talking about it now #the darkling #alina starvok #wylan van eck #grishaverse #grisha #the grisha trilogy #crooked kingdom #fabrikators #durast #aditi hilli #leoni hilli #adrik zhabin

[dat-is-chill-ghafa]

i want to take a moment from my venting to highlight the positive aspects of the show

Freddy and Amita were absolutely sensational as Kaz and Inej, their chemistry could not have lit up the screens more- they care so much about their characters, they are their characters and there is no one who could have portrayed them as beautifully and perfectly as them

Wesper were also everything and I didn’t mind the changes to their stories- Kit and Jack also had great chemistry and we got some good moments

Calahan as Matthias was criminally underused but for the few scenes we got to see him morph into the Matthias we are introduced to in Six of Crows- he seemed so much more settled, dark, perfectly conveying the nuances of the sacrifices of Matthias’s character and what is done to him in Hellgate- he was imposing and it makes me sad how little we saw him and Nina

Nikolai, Tolya and Tamar were perfectly cast- and despite my initial distrust of Nikolai’s characterisation based on the sneak peeks- Patrick did a great job conveying Nikolai’s charm and his darkness, sincerity and passion for the throne- Tolya and Tamar were just perfect- EVERYTHING about them- again- underused and it makes me sad we didn’t get a serious enough look at their backstory - them being duplicitous to Alita due to them being part of the cult of the sun saint etc/

Alina and Mal’s chemistry was phenomenal - it was perfect and tender - Archie Renaux said MAL RIGHTS and it paid off a thousand times over- the way Mal was portrayed down to him being the Firebird- his loyalty to Alina, his loss everything, his portrayal of Mal was better and more sincere than the books and all of their moments felt amazing- shame the writers ruined any sincerity of their ending

The Kanej moments we did get and some of the scenes- thoroughly enjoyed

I thought it was smart some of the ways in which the timelines were combined and given the fact I think the writers knew we would not be getting a third season - I did appreciate the attempts to try and shove everything together

Daisy Head BODIED genya’s acting- her chemistry with David wasn’t great but with the limited exposure to her trauma they gave her- it worked out well

best costuming department ever- not a single one of the character’s fits ddi not live up to expectation and beyond - THE DETAILING on the keftas, inej’s leather boots- Tolya and tamar’s fits - insanity - all the awards they deserve all of them

#shadow and bone #sab #shadow and bone spoilers #shadow and bone season 2 #shadow and bone season two #sab season two #sab season 2 #kanej #wesper #six of crows #soc

[bey0nd-1he-stars]

Anchor - Nikolai Lantsov

Masterlist

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Wordcount: 1247

Warnings: crying, mentions of wounds

Summary: You try to find Nikolai after the fight is over to make sure he is okay (based heavily on the Netflix show but I can't say that it's spoiling something)

The sun shined like never before. After being drowning in the darkness of the Fold, the sun seemed too bright. You’d made it through the battle with just a few scratches and some torn clothes, but overall you were alright. You’d been with Tamar at the start, but when the Fold had expanded and the volcra had made its way to the fort, you’d had no other choice than to split up if survival were to be left on the map. It'd been a game of hide and seek and fortunately, you’d won. The breath you’d let out when the sun broke through and the light came back, signaling that Alina had done it, it may be the most relief you’d felt in a long time. Until you saw what the volcra had left after their brief visit and you couldn’t find any of the others. 

Nikolai wasn’t bearing any of his own weight, leaning on Tamar and Tolya as they made it out of the room and out to the frontside of the fort. Barrels and crates still stood there, a bit messier than before but otherwise it was alright. A few soldiers from the first army had started to gather those who’d been lost in the battle, they were lined up on the grass just outside the gate. Tamar and Tolya carefully sat him down on top of a pair of crates of some sort and let out a huff. Nikolai ran a hand through his blond mop of hair and started to look around for familiar faces. That’s when it hit him. Where were you? Had you survived all this chaos? You had to. In his frantic state of mind he made an attempt to get up but lost his balance until Tolya caught him. He gave him a nod in thank you and started to limp away to try and find you. 

“Nikolai? what are you- where are you going?” Tamar asked and ran up to him. She placed an arm around his waist to help stabilize him. Nikolai came to a halt and threw an arm around her shoulders and propped himself up a bit. 

“I have to find Y/N.” Tamar nodded and pulled at him, leading him into the fort again, “come along then.” 

You were almost running through the corridors, throwing every door open, shouting names into the air. Your heels made clicking sounds against the stone floor that echoed in the hallways, your kefta was torn a few places and the buttons had come undone and it flew behind you like a cloak. The tears that had gathered in your eyes got closer and closer to falling with every door you threw open. Every door led to yet another empty room where chaos had passed and left everything in a mess. Here and there you were met by a few offers from the first army, a few grisha here and there, but no sign of Nikolai, Tolya, Tamar or any of the crows. When you’d almost given up, walking out of the latest room with tears running down your face and your breath caught in your throat, gasping for air, that’s when Nikolai rounded the corner in the far end of the corridor. At the shout of your name you whipped around and the sight of Nikolai and Tamar had you almost fainting with relief. 

“Y/N!” Nikolai shouted. It echoed in the corridor and bounced off of the stone walls around you. The sun lit up the corridor and you could see him clearly. Nikolai let go of Tamar and propped himself up against the wall instead. And you ran. You ran straight into his arms, throwing yourself in his embrace and wrapping your arms around his neck, burying your face against his neck. He caught you and pressed you into him, wanting all of you as close to him as possible. He wanted to feel your warmth, your breathing and the beating of your heart. His leg was throbbing and he sunk down on the floor with you still in his arms. 

“I thought I lost you, all of you. I couldn’t find any of you,” you whispered, breathing in the scent of him and fisting the fabric of his uniform in your hands. You looked up to see if Tamar was still there but she’d left, probably to tend to Nadia. Nikolai, equally relieved as you, pressed a hasty kiss to the side of your head and placed a hand in your hair, threading through it gently. 

“Are you alright?” He asked gently and pulled away slightly to let his eyes roam your body in search of any injuries, but let out a relieved sigh when you nodded and the only wounds he found on you were not very drastic. He made a move to stand up and you pulled away from the hug but grabbed ahold of his hand instead. Nikolai almost fell against the wall when he put pressure on his wounded leg. 

“Oh Saints, Nikolai!” You gasped and wrapped an arm around his waist and you let him throw an arm around your shoulders. He grimaced and dragged a sharp breath as you stared walking back outside to where Nikolai said the others would be. 

“I’m okay,” he insisted and looked down at you. 

“You don’t look very okay,” you said softly and stopped for a moment. You placed yourself in front of him instead and he rested his arms on your shoulders. His blond hair was messy and dirty, he had a bloody wound on the side of his head, a bleeding hole in his shoulder, the same place where he’d taken his first bullet, and his leg was bloodied and wrapped hastily in a white fabric. He definitely didn’t look okay. 

“It could be worse,” he tried and his famous smirk made its way to his lips. You chuckled, still the same old humour. He didn’t seem to have hit his head at least. You softly shook your head at him and cupped his cheek in your hand, careful to avoid the wound. 

“Just because it could be worse doesn’t mean that you’re okay.” Nikolai smiled at that, you were always so caring and comforting. Something he admired greatly with you. He settled for a simple nod and you placed yourself at his side again to help him walk. When the two of you came out into the sun in the courtyard Nikolai stopped again. You assumed he wanted to rest his leg but when you looked up at him he came crashing his lips down on yours. He held your face gently in his hands, yours came to rest on his chest. The kiss was soft and gentle and Nikolai savored every second like it was his last. You could feel the thumping of his heart through the uniform. The world had stopped and you let yourself enjoy the short moment. The two of you had survived the war, it was at least worth a kiss in celebration. 

When you broke apart Nikolai had tears running down his face. His eyes were glossed over and he slightly trembled under your hands. You didn’t say anything, you just wrapped your arms around him and held him, holding him up and pressing soft kisses to his blond mop of curls. You let each other just bask in the moment. You held each other, grounding each other like anchors to the world. 

#season 2 shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix #grishaverse #the grisha series #nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov x reader #prince nikolai #nikolai lantsov #six of crows #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lantsov imagines #king of scars #rule of wolves

[russosafehaven]

The Stars Amongst the Darkness

Pairing: The Darkling x Fem!Reader

Content: Star Summoner!Reader, Jealous!Reader, Established Relationship

POV: Second

~

They say stars are dead when we see them. That when they shine brightly amongst the velvet background of the night sky they are mere burning corpses. The only star that still lives is the sun. All others burnt out many moons ago. We see their carcasses lighting up the darkness of midnight and we use them to guide us. The dead are always the wisest for they’ve lived before us and we can learn from their mistakes.

When Alina first arrived at Little Palace you noticed how Aleksander looked at her. Like she was the sun and in many ways she was. Through her veins she could call the living star to her finger tips and light up the world. The young girl shined much brighter than you did and you envied her. Envied the way Aleksander looked at her light, the same way he once look at your light.

While training with Zoya you saw Alina watching you. Anger ran through your veins, she never did combat training so why was she here. You let your emotions get the best of you and ended up burning your sparring partner. Luckily there was a healer on standby. She didn’t blame you, Zoya would’ve acted the same way if her lover payed more attention to someone else.

Grabbing your kefta you pulled it over you. It was black with silver and gold embroidery. Tiny specks of blue throughout. Representative of your stars and your etherealki abilities. Alina tried to stop you but you shoved past her, not wanting to give the Sun Summoner any mind.

With tall strides you made your way to your chambers. The ones you stayed in long before your relationship with the General. They were untouched by time, the only difference the layer of dust over your belongings. Many books about the stars and constellations. Ideas you had been toying with months ago. The idea of summoning the saints constellations to see if you could perhaps mimic their powers. It was long forgotten when you left your chambers to move in with the General.

It was only when a knock rung out from your door were you pulled out of your notebook. Pulling away from the dreams you once had. Walking to your door you couldn’t even touch the handle before it swung open. Revealing a rather angry Aleksander.

“You said after your training with Zoya you’d be back in our bedroom”

It was a statement and every word was dripping with venom. Scoffing you walked back over to your desk, looking through the sketches you once enjoyed to do. Being with Aleksander you had become more focused on fighting. Neglecting your passions of experimenting and drawing.

“I wanted to return to my old chambers, remember who I was before your shadows consumed me”

Voice quiet to prevent it from breaking, you couldn’t stand to look at him. Fearing the way he was in this position. Aleksander had always towered over you. As you shrank into yourself he seemed even larger.

“My shadows consumed you?! How ridiculous do you have to be to believe that?”

His words were laced in disgust. How could you, his northern star, believe that about yourself? Aleksander took a step towards you and when you responded by retreating from him you could’ve sworn he looked sad.

“Ever since you found the Sun Summoner it has all been about her. I understand, she shines brighter than me and Alina is far prettier than I. She fits into your plan, she is your equal. I was just a replacement until you got the real thing…”

You were crying, tears decorating your cheeks like sapphires. Lighting up the curve of your skin as the candles danced in the corner.

“Are you so naive that you actually think that? Nothing and no one can compare to you milaya… you are my everything. My stars and my moon…”

He took you in his arms, holding you firmly and refusing to loosen his grip. No matter how much you fought against him Aleksander wouldn’t lose you. He wouldn’t lose anyone again.

“Alina is a means to an end, you are my equal. Much more than she. The girl can barely fight, she doesn’t put effort in. Since the moment you were brought here I’ve heard many words about your diligence. Alina could never match up to you, she’s nothing compared to you malyshka”

Every word he spoke you believed. The cadence of his voice made you feel loved.

“I promise you I will do better to focus on you, to spend more time with you my little one. Just come back to our room”

You smiled, not his room as it was yours too. Our room, you thought happily. Aleksander would be your endgame and you would forever be his. The Starless One and his Starry Night.

#darkling x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #ben barnes #the darkling x reader #general kirigan x reader #kirigan x reader

[unactive-shroom]

hello! i hope you're doing well. for your Valentine's event, may I request nikolai lantsov with prompt #4? have a great day!

Prompt #4: Proposal ♡

“It seems like someone has a very important question to ask… and what better time to do it but on Valentine’s night?”

Character: Nikolai Lantsov. See Valentine's Event: HERE

You stood at the edge of the lake, watching the purple glow of dusk slowly swallowing the last of the early February sunshine. It had been thirteen months since Alina Starkov had left the Little Palace, and despite her offering for you to join her and Mal, you had remained by Nikolai’s side in Os Alta. Recently you’ve found yourself taking the long winding path through the trees to the Little Palace, reminiscing about the days you would spend together at the lake, chatting and feasting on blini or pelmeni stolen from the kitchen. A hand snuck around your waist. “I thought I’d find you here.” You smiled and sunk into Nikolai’s warm embrace, not realising the cold that had crept up on you. “I get that the Grand Palace is ugly on the outside and all that, but really, y/n, you’ll catch a chill if you keep coming down here without warm clothes” he said as he fussed over you, pulling a heavy velvet cloak around you. Once satisfied that you were warm, he turned his attention to the lake. The silence stretched between you two until Nikolai softly said ”You know we can visit them, right? Keramzin isn’t too far away. We could stay a few nights, bring some gifts, maybe. Or maybe they could come visit us, either.” You chuckled at that part. “I think Alina’s had enough of the palaces by now. Besides, isn’t it too risky for them to come here? They are supposedly dead, you know. And I think that people might start to get suspicious if the King of Ravka and his entourage start to regularly visit an orphange.” he hummed in agreement, tilting his head. “It’s okay, Nikolai. We did just see them, what, two months ago? I’m just being nostalgic, that’s all. Let’s head back to the Palace, It’s cold.” He took your arm in his, a look of feigned pain on his face. “Funny how you always seem to want to go back whenever I join you. Unrequited love is a terrible, terrible thing. Am’st I doomed to be alone forever-?” You let go of his arm and strode ahead of him, in no mood to put up with his antics. “Y/n, wait! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, let’s go warm up, please?”

A few hours later, whilst Nikolai was in some meeting, you found yourself in the concert hall. Empty, as always, but with a beautiful, sleek, black grand piano in the centre of the stage. Your footsteps echo, magnifying your pathway to the stage, announcing your presence as you pull out the piano stool, and as you played, you thought about how you had gotten here. Going from a high ranking army officer, experienced in intense and gruesome warfare, fighting alongside friends and seeing horrors unlike any other, to sitting here now, in a sleek and comfortable kefta, playing piano, and living in a palace. Of course, you were still a very active member of the army, and while politics held a greater position in your life than it had previously, you still had many army duties, one including tuition at the little palace. But recently, no doubt accredited to Nikolai, you had a lot of free time. “Mandatory resting periods for those involved in the war”, as he called it. And, not to mention, the whole country’s eye on you and Nikolai after a stablehand had leaked information about yours and Nikolai’s relationship. At this point, you were simply waiting for the day where acquiring a Ravkan Queen, a wife for Nikolai, was simply unavoidable, and the relationship was cut off. It made you sick to the depths of your very being, but you were determined to enjoy it while it lasted. It’s something that had always hung over the two of you, and at the beginning of your courtship you had discussed it in great detail, and you were adamant on the fact that when the time came for Nikolai to choose a wife, they would simply forget their relationship and move on with their lives. But it was getting increasingly difficult for both of you. You’d noticed that Nikolai had been closer to you recently, constantly there whenever you both had free time, or, pestering you at work, egging you on to leave work to go read with him in the library or take a walk around the palace grounds. And you had felt closer to him too, saving snippets of poetry for him in books you read, playing melodies for him on piano. These small, intimate moments meant everything to you, especially knowing that Nikolai had very little time left to spend with you before he was married off to some stranger.

Leaving the concert hall and heading back to your chambers, you heard voices in the hallway ahead of you - Nikolai and Zoya. “I just- I don’t know how to tell her, Zoya. How can I ask her-?” he sighed audibly, running a hand through his hair. He turned, and locked eyes on you. “Oh- Y/n!” The marble floor seemed to grow colder through your shoes as Zoya looked at him meaningfully. “I think you and Nikolai ought to take a quick walk around the Palace, Y/n. I’ll see you in the morning, your Majesty. Good night.”. As Zoya’s footsteps echoed down the hallway, you felt your heart fall to your stomach. This was it. Nikolai was going to tell you he had found a suitable bride and that it was no longer possible for this relationship to continue. You swallowed, and smiled at Nikolai, not wanting to draw this out any longer. “Shall we?”

You and Nikolai walked side by side through the moonlit gardens in utter silence, until finally, stopping at the glaringly white marble statue of some old king, you stopped. “Nikolai, I know what’s happening.” You whispered, turning your head away from him. “You do? Y/n, I-” You shook your head. “Don’t. I undertsand, Nikolai. You need to do what’s best for your country, I’ve always loved that about you. Just…before we part ways, I need to ask you for one last thing - and then I’ll be gone by morning, your majesty.” You turned to face him, a single tear betraying your determination to not cry, only to find Nikolai on one knee, a look of utter bewilderness on his face. You mirrored the look, not knowing what he was doing. “…why are you on the ground? Nikolai, you’ll ruin your clothes, and it’s far too cold to be-” You sniffled. “Y/n. Please let me talk. I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about, but you can’t leave now - and what’s this about us parting ways? I think you really misunderstood what I’m asking you.” Nikolai cleared his throat, suddenly looking nervous. “I… I know that our relationship hasn’t been under the best circumstances - first as Sturmhond, when I quite litterally held you captive on a boat for the state enemy and yet you fell for me, Saints knows how, and then when I proposed marriage to Alina… and now, having to keep our relationship secret…” He took a deep breath. “I know it’s been impossibly unfair on you. But please, y/n. Allow me this selfish idea - at least consider it - because I mean it when I say that you are my everything. You thrive in politics, the people love you, you have given incredible service to Ravka, you’ve fought wars - been through hell and back for this country, your beauty is unmatched even by the primal, eldest saints of the land - the sun and moon themselves are outshone by your radiance. When I imagine the ideal Queen for this country, the only person I can see fitting the role is you. Y/n L/n, would you allow me the honour of being your husband? Will you marry me?” In a complete and utter state of shock, you took a step back, incrediously shaking your head. “Me? But- but Grisha can’t- I have no title, no links to nobility - I’m an orphan from Keramzin! What will you get from marrying me?” Nikolai remained on one knee, looking directly at you. “What would I get from marrying the love of my life? Saints, y/n, I would get happiness. I would be able to go to sleep in the arms of the person I love, be able to count on her unwavering support that she’s shown me since day one, be able to wake up every morning and know that whatever happens today, I have the most incredible person by my side. I would be able to feel safety in my role as King, with an incredibly capable Queen by my side, beloved of the people and the crown itself, and know that I will not have to spend my life yearning for the woman I sent away so that I could marry for political values, as she would be in her rightful place by my side. I would do anything for you, y/n. But I just can’t bear the thought of you leaving me.”

At this point, your vision was blurry with tears, but you felt Nikolai take your hand. “Well, my love? What do you say?” You felt the tension in his gentle hold of your hand. “If you’re sure about this… then yes. I do. I will gladly marry you, Nikolai.” He beamed at you, standing up and wrapping you in his familiar, warm embrace. As he wiped the tears from your eyes, you giggled. “So does this mean that I get to call you Nikolai even when referring to you?” “You could always do that, my love.” “Yeah, but, if I did, I’d get funny looks. Oooh, can I give you nicknames now, too? How about Niko? LaiLai? Kolai? E-Kolai?” You gasped suddenly, startling Nikolai. “Oh, I have to tell Alina and Mal!” He smiled, then hummed thoughtfully. “Yeah, We’ll have to make a public address too. Then decide on the length of the engagement, do a tour, loads of boring court stuff - but it shouldn’t be too bad with you by my side. Now come along, it really is quite cold. How about we have a glass of brandy’s to celebrate? The one the Kerch ambassador sent awhile ago has been calling my name, but I simply hadn’t a good enough reason to break it out…”

A.n: Y’all the amount of Nikolai Requests I have in my inbox is INSANE. ALSO WHEN I WAS WRITING THIS I MIXED UP MAL AND MATHIAS?? so glad that I realised cause wtf. also I had to break up the last paragraph bc apparently tumblr has a limit of words u can have in one text block?? anyways. thanks for requesting, I hope you enjoyed &lt;3

#~eden's valnetine's event #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov #grishaverse x reader

[crvptidgf]

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭

general kirigan x fem!reader

summary: the darkling arrives to your room late in the night, right after the winter fete

warnings/notes: making out, very slight sexual content 18+, heavily inspired by what could’ve happened with alina and aleksander the night of the fete, book descriptions of the Darkling (?)

requested?: sort of @loversmantra

————————

You had been waiting in your room all night long. Aleksander had been long gone from the fete, and you soon followed as you jumped at the first chance to leave the Grand Palace. It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy your time - you really did. The performances were amazing, and you had been incredibly proud of Alina’s progress with her powers; you knew she could do it.

Yet the memory of being in the Queen’s sitting room, pushed up against the double doors as Aleksander’s hands inched up your thighs feverishly didn’t leave your mind the whole night. You clenched your thighs together for what felt like the millionth time that night. You desperately explained your excuse and bid your farewells to your friends before sneaking out of the Palace undetected.

-

“Can I visit you tonight?” he had asked. He looked around the corridor, holding the door open as he prepared to leave you, disheveled and needy in the Queen’s lounge area.

All you could muster was a nod, too embarrassed to speak under his intense gaze.

-

Now, you stood in your room with bated breath as you waited for his supposed arrival. Perhaps you were foolish for believing that he’d ever want you - need you.

But you wanted to believe. And so you did. As you waited, and waited, and waited, you began to lose hope. Of course it was too good to be true - maybe that was all you two were destined to be, a quick, silly make-out on the outskirts of a ravishing party.

You scolded yourself as you pulled off your skirts and slippers, unbuttoning your kefta and throwing them atop your dressing screen. Grabbing your white night gown, you fitted it over your head before making your way towards your bed.

Your mind wandered yet again as you reminisced on the night you just had.

-

His lips were pressed directly on your pulse - kissing, nipping, licking any inch of skin he could reach. Hands were pawing at your hips and waist, lifting your skirt to wrap one leg around his waist before he began massaging into you slowly, gently.

One hand kept you balanced against the door while the other roamed across your bare thigh, getting closer to where you needed him most.

Your collarbone was attacked by kisses as he dragged his teeth along the flesh, earning a satisfied gasp from you.

Suddenly, he stopped.

Voices could be heard down the hallway, footsteps getting tantalizingly close to the doorway you were currently pushed up against. Aleksander’s hand came to press against the door right next to your head.

You stalled your breathing, doing everything in your power to not lean into him, to not roll your hips against his.

-

You sighed as you wrapped your silk and fur covers around yourself, trying to subdue your disappointment. What did you honestly expect? He was The Darkling. He had things to do, and prettier girls fawning over him. Hell, he had the Sun Summoner at his fingertips.

Yet as you began to close your eyes to drift into an uneasy sleep, a low knock came at your door. It was so quiet that you almost thought you had imagined it.

Another knock sounded and you stuffed your feet into your fur lined slippers before walking to the door.

Unlocking it, you were immediately met with complete darkness, save for Aleksander’s icy eyes piercing through the blackness. He was here. Maybe you weren’t so stupid after all. His domineering aura made you shift in place as you stepped aside to let the leather clad man enter your room.

“You’re here,” you said blindly. What a stupid sentence. Of course he was here, he was unmistakably standing right in-front of you, his dark head of hair being ruffled by his hand as he ran his fingers through it.

“Did you ever doubt that I wouldn’t be?” he said as he raised an eyebrow at you.

Closing the door and locking it once again, you turned to face him. You wanted to lie, to cover up the fact that you were staying up all night waiting for him. Yet as you looked into his intense gray eyes, you just couldn’t.

“A little.”

He advanced towards you, and you suddenly felt very exposed in your night wear. His hand came to grab at yours, holding it tightly. A wave of confidence rushed through you, and you could practically feel your heart rate picking up times ten.

“I’m sorry for leaving so suddenly,” he said as his hand came to rest at the nape of your neck.

Stepping closer towards him, you responded. “You’re here now.”

And with that, you grabbed at his collar as you connected your lips to his, all the desperation from tonight melting into the kiss. Your patience was wearing thin, but knowing him, he wasn’t going to give in easily. Sasha had a knack for pushing people to the edge. His inhuman amount of patience annoyed you at times, but he always made it worth your time.

His hands were on you in an instant, gripping your nightgown, the back of your hair, everything. As his mouth hungrily chased down your neck, you were pushed against the door for the second time tonight.

Gently tugging his hair to unlatch him from the side of your neck, you pulled his lips back up to meet yours in a flurry mess of teeth and tongue clashing together.

You could feel his touch times ten now that you were rid of your kefta and extra outerwear. Everywhere he touched granted you a new set of goosebumps, and as his hand reached up to grasp at your hips, you leaned into him more. There was something so intoxicating about him.

This little midnight rendezvous filled you with excitement. Pulling away from you, he began to speak once again.

“It pained me to have to leave you in there alone, you know,” he muttered against your lips as he heaved you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist.

“Well then make it up to me.”

With your back pressed against the mattress, and his tall stature standing over you, you knew tonight would be a good night.

- - -

#shadow and bone #aleksander morozova #kirigan x reader #general kirigan #the darkling #the darkling x reader #the darkling x y/n #the darkling fanfic #shadow and bone fanfiction #sab fanfiction #grishaverse #grishaverse x reader #leigh bardugo #shadow and bone trilogy #seige and storm #ruin and rising #grishaverse fic #grishaverse fanfic #grishaverse fanfiction #the grisha trilogy #the grisha series #aleksander kirigan x reader #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone fandom #shadow and bone series #shadow and bone s1 #shadow and bone show

[rose-sophia-isabella-rogers]

A Steel That Went Through Hottest Fire: Chapter XII - Holding Out an Olive Branch

Chapter Summary: You wake up and discover Aleksander is gone. You hurry to the Fold, determined to help him, save him or die with him. Will you get there in time? And what do the results mean for you?

Pairing: Aleksander Kirigan/Reader, Ivan/Fedyor Kaminsky, Mal Oretsev/Alina Starkov, Genya Safin/David Kostyk

Characters: Aleksander Kirigan, Reader, Ivan, Fedyor Kaminsky, Alina Starkov, Mal Oretsev, Inej Ghafa, Zoya Nazyalensky, Nina Zenik, Nikolai Lantsov, Genya Safin, David Kostyk, Baghra, Tolya Yul-Bataar

Word Count: 4333

A/N: This chapter contains plot and dialogues from episode eight of season two. Also, we're get into the story from the King of Scars. Not much taken in this chapter, but later on I'm going to take some fragments from the book. Enjoy! https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089684638/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089798515/ https://pl.pinterest.com/pin/207306389089786937/

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed):

@budugu

@intothesoul

@mizelophsun11

@pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

@zeeader

@marrymonrich

@wonderland2425

@chelseyyouraverageluigi

@thehufflepuffavenger1

When you wake up, you don't open your eyes at first. You lay in it, remembering with a smile the events of last night. You reach to the other side of the bed but you don't find Aleksander with your hand. You frown at the feeling of very cold sheets. You move your hand and suddenly feel a piece of paper.

You sit up abruptly. You grab the letter and scan it quickly with your eyes. Your face goes pale and your heart stops.

'Damn it, Aleksander!' you curse and spring out of the bed. You quickly dress yourself. For a moment you can't find your kefta. You finally notice it, but when you unfold it, you see it's not yours. You freeze for a moment. In some places, grey embroidery turns to black. In another situation, you'd be touched by it, appreciate it and maybe even cry a bit. But now you just put it on and gather your things.

You take a peek outside. In the letter Kirigan mentions that Fedyor and Ivan will look after you. You understand it as making sure you won't run. So, you look for them. You see them with their backs to you and a few feet away, talking quietly.

You quietly sneak away past them to the horses. You prepare yours and mount it. You direct him toward the Fold and urge him forward. It neighs, and galops away.

Ivan and Fedyor's head snap toward the sound. They're eyes go wide at the sight of you riding away. They sprint toward their horses.

'General will kill us!' Fedyor says, cursing under his breath, as they mount their horses.

'If he'll me merciful,' Ivan says gloomily and they ride after you.

But you're riding faster than you've ever had. Your heart beats faster, when you see the Fold is closer. Aleksander has spread it again. You bite your lip, fully believing nichevoy'a will protect you from the Volcras, and ride into the Fold.

You don't have to worry about the monsters of the Unsea long, though. Suddenly, everything is covered in blinding light. When you can see again, you're no longer surrounded with darkness. The Fold is gone. While part of you is glad, you're mostly concerned with what that means for the Darkling. You ride faster, praying to the Saints to arrive in time.

In the middle of the Unsea, Aleksander and Alina face each other. Starkov won, but Mal sacrificed himself, so she could destroy the Fold. Kirigan is wounded, but he still wants to join forces with the Sun Summoner. But when she pushes him away, nichevo attacks her, and doesn't listen to the Darkling ordering it to stop. Inej, the female thief from Ketterdam you've met, throws a sword made by Sankta Neyar at it, destroying it. It's the only thing that can do it and it's been acquired it with great difficulty.

'You can't control them, can you?' Alina asks. 'You can't control any of it.'

She's on her knees. Aleksander is already standing. He offers her his hand. She stares at it.

'I thought I could control it all… once,' he says. 'Find peace. And for a moment… I swear I did.'

He closes his eyes with a soft smile. Memories of you flash in his mind. Your smile. Your laugh. Your teas. Your kisses. The nights you've spent together.

Suddenly, he feels terrible pain in his abdomen. He coughs out blood and opens his eyes. He looks down. The sword is lodged in him, held by Alina's hands.

'Without me… know they will come for you,' he says. She stares at him angrily.

'Let them come,' she says and pulls out the sword with the grunt. Kirigan gasps and falls backward. A moment later Starkov shows up in his vision, blocking out the sun.

At that moment, you arrive. Your heart drops at the sight of General on the ground and Alina above him.

'No,' you whisper, dismounting. 'Saints, no, please!'

You run to them. Alina hears you or sees you, because she looks up. She tenses and gets ready to fight, but you ignore her and fall on your knees next to your lover. He groans as you touch him.

'Hey, hey, hey, hey. Shhh,' you say gently, as you scoop him up in your arms.

Saints, no, please, no…

'… [Y/N]… you're here?' Aleksander asks, trying to focus on you. You manage to laugh, tears in your eyes.

'Yeah. Yeah, of course I'm here,' you say. 'Now don't talk.'

There's so much blood…

'It h- it hurts,' he cries out.

'I know, darling,' you say, brushing the hair from his forehead. 'But don't talk. And don't move, either.'

No, no, no…

'H-hey, [Y/N]?' Kirigan asks. His breaths are rattling.

'Yeah?' you ask.

Stay awake…

'I-' he says and coughs. 'I love you.'

His eyes close. You freeze. You finally heard those words. But he… he's gone.

'No…' you sob. You whine, your shoulders shaking, as you press your head to his chest. You clench his kefta tight, begging him to come back to you.

You're not even aware you have an audience. Zoya and Inej are standing not far, looking at you sadly. You're only pulled back to reality after hearing a relieved laugh.

You lift your head up. You see Alina hugging Mal. The tracker is alive. A Heartrender, Nina, is next to them. Did she save him? But no, she's shocked as well. You focus on Alina… and feel it.

You feel anger. She killed Aleksander for using merzost to save Grisha. And now she's used it to save her lover? What a hypocrite…

You feel something burning inside, begging to get out. The moment you realise what it is, you calm down. You look up and meet Zoya's hesitant look calmly. Everything is gonna to be different now.

*

You don't know how you return out of the Fold. Or what used to be it. You get to an old camp at Kribirsk. You meet the rest of Alina's army there. Including Prince Nikolay. Your eyes meet, but he quickly looks away, finding something unnerving in your look.

You're taken away to a tent. On your way out, you didn't allow anyone to take you from Aleksander's body. Now you hesitate only for a moment.

You sit on a chair, your hands spread and bound. After what feels like hours, Nikolay enters the tent. You don't look at him.

'Baghra claims these bonds won't stop you,' he says after a moment and walks toward you. 'That if you want, you can break them free. You don't need to touch your hands for that.'

'And why would I do that?' you ask, your voice flat. The Prince… or maybe the King, just not crowned yet, sits on a chair opposite to you. You still don't look at him.

'To run away,' he answers. You focus your gaze on him. Once again, something in your eyes disturbs him.

'Where?' you ask.

'Anywhere you want,' he answers, shrugging. You smile bitterly.

'And what would I do?' you ask. 'I used to think I can use my powers to help others. To make this world a better place. How would I do that on the endless run?'

Tears glisten in your eyes. You hastily look away. Nikolay observes you in silence. He knows you were on Kirigan's side. But he can't imagine you approved everything he did. Others told him that as well.

'Are you going to kill me?' you ask.

'Do you want me to?' he asks. 'And that is a serious question. Do you want to die?'

'No,' you answer after a moment. 'I… I've done some things I'm not proud of. I need to atone for them. My death wouldn't do that. I'd be just running away from responsibility for my actions.'

'Did you really love him this much that you didn't hesitate to break your own rules?' Nikolay asks quietly. You look at him.

'I do,' you confirm. He almost shivers under your gaze. He looks down.

'You'll be a prisoner until…' he says but doesn't finish the thought. Until you atone? Until they decide you're not really a villain?

'You weren't with others,' he says instead and looks at you again. 'And you weren't with Kirigan in the Fold from the beginning. If you had been, you'd have stopped Alina from killing him. So, where were you? Why weren't you there?'

'Because he didn't want me to,' you answer after a beat. 'He was protecting me, since I'm not much of a fighter. He didn't want me to get hurt. And he also… didn't want me to bend my morals even more. He already believes… believed… that he had ruined me enough.'

Your look softens. You clench your fists.

'I'm not trying to minimalize what's he done,' you say. 'He committed hideous crimes. But he… he cared. There was goodness in his heart.'

Silence falls. This time you don't try to hide tears in your eyes.

'You know this is my third time in this camp?' you say. 'The first time was when I created my skiff. The second time when… we crossed the Fold that day.'

'Did you know what he's planning?' Nikolay asks.

'I figured it out,' you admit. 'I didn't approve of it, though. And I'm glad the Fold is gone. I didn't believe controlling it would make Grisha safe. Just as now I don't believe it being gone will do it.'

'It won't be easy,' the King says, easily getting back his confidence. 'But the country is united once again. We can do it.'

'The land maybe is reunited, but not its people. It won't be that easy. You lost what could unite them. Because it's easier to unite against a common enemy than under the kind ruler.'

'You think Alina made a mistake killing the Darkling.'

'You know my opinion on that matter. But yes. He could have been someone that could help you stitch this country back together.'

'If you didn't believe in neither controlling the Fold nor destroying him… what did you believe in?'

'Him.'

Silence falls again. Nikolay observes you, thinking how to break certain news to you.

'We have to burn him,' he finally says and you stiffen. 'Will you let us?'

'I know how dangerous it would be to simply bury him,' you say softly and then look at him with a hard gaze. 'But I have one condition. Or rather… request.'

'What is it?' the King asks, actually curious.

'Let me prepare him for it,' you answer and your lip trembles. 'Let me… say goodbye properly.'

Nikolay thinks about it carefully. But finally… he nods.

'I will send someone for you,' he says, standing up. 'But after you're done, your being tied again and in Os Alta you're going to be put in a cell.'

You nod in agreement. The King looks at you for a moment longer, then leaves.

You're not sure how much time pass until it's time of the ceremony. For the burning of the Darkling and the Sun Summoner, which is obviously attended by many people. Because officially, Alina Starkov has died while destroying the Fold. She chose a simple life with her Tracker. You can't really blame her. It's what you would want with Aleksander.

You glare at her. She's here, disguised, of course. But she wanted to see it. See him being burned. And herself. So, since you're present as well, you glare at her, angry that she can get to live the life you want.

You turn your head, not wanting to explode. You glance at your guards and look at his body. In the corner of your eye, you see Nikolay giving the signal. You watch as the Inferni summon the fire to ignite the stake. People around you call Alina's name. No one calls his. Because not many knew it.

'Aleksander,' you whisper. Suddenly, you feel arms around you. Zoya, your friend, who's not sure how to treat you now, puts her head on yours.

'It's over, [Y/N],' she says softly, with a dose of compassion, you think.

'No, you're wrong,' you say quietly, your eyes not leaving the pyre. 'It has just begun.'

*

Two years and a half have passed since the civil war in Ravka. Nikolay is still trying to stitch his country back together. He has help, of course. But some things only he can do. One of them isn't the new threat to Grisha. To deal with that he needs all the help he can get.

Jurda parem. The drug that modifies Grisha's power by changing their perception of the world in an opposite and unnatural direction. It is extremely addictive to them, and rapidly weakens the body of the user. Many want to use this to their advantage. Fjerda. Shu-Han. It seems only Ravka wants this drug out of the market and to save Grisha. But even though they now have the son of the creator of the drug, they're still not closer to finding an andidotum.

Nikolay sits with his Grisha Triumvirate – Genya, Zoya and David – and they have a brainstorm. The Durast is trying hard, but so far, he's getting nowhere.

'It is frustrating,' Zoya sighs, after yet another dismissed idea. 'Why did Bo Yul-Bayur have to die?'

'I'm sure he didn't just decide to die and leave us all in this mess,' Genya says grimly, but suddenly frowns. 'David? I know that look. You have an idea.'

'Well…' the Durast starts but closes his eyes. 'I'm not sure.'

'Share with us, David,' Nikolay encourages him. 'Surely it's not worse than Zoya's idea to set Fjerda and Shu-Han on fire.'

'I still think it's our best option,' Zoya says, raising her head haughtily. She is ignored.

'I have tried many things with that drug to find an antidote,' David says. 'I am skilled… but there is someone whose mind is far brighter than me… who may think of a solution.'

'There is no one smarter than you,' Genya says, squeezing the hand of her husband.

'There is one person,' Kostyk disagrees, staring Nikolay in the eyes. The King slumps in his chair. He closes his eyes and pinches his nose.

'You can't think…' Genya starts, realising what the Durast means as well. 'She won't agree.'

'She cares about Grisha,' David argues softly. 'And she's not… She helped you escape.'

'She's spent two years and a half locked in a cell,' Safin argues. 'She couldn't use her powers. Don't you think that changed her?'

'Surely,' Kostyk agrees. 'But not enough not to help.'

'Can she really find a way we haven't found?' Nikolay interrupts them.

'We've all been surprised by how powerful she really is,' Zoya speaks up. 'All but one.'

An hour later Nikolay knocks on the door to Baghra's hut. He comes in after the invitation. The old woman is sitting in her armchair. She looks at him.

'Do what do I owe the pleasure of the King himself to visit me?' she asks with sarcasm.

'I need to talk to you about our problem,' Lantsov explains, sitting on a chair.

'Jurda parem,' Baghra says and spits. 'Another abomination. Are the Durast and Alkemi any closer to finding an antidote?'

'No,' Nikolay denies and exhales. 'But David believes someone else may think of something.'

'[Y/N],' Baghra immediately guesses and nods. 'She has a unique brain. One of the reasons he was so drawn to her. Yes, if anyone can find a cure, it's her.'

'Will she do it, though?' the King asks. The old woman is silent for a moment.

'Yes,' she finally answers. 'Her heart hasn't changed. She still would do anything to keep Grisha save.'

'But what will it cost us?' Lantsov asks. Baghra smiles.

'You have to ask her about it,' she answers. 'But don't worry. Without my son, she's not your enemy.'

Another hour later, you hear footsteps coming your way. You know it's not Baghra, who's visiting you quite often, as they don't sound like hers. You look, curious, at the door to your cell and a moment later you see a guard and… Zoya.

'Have you come to kill me?' you ask.

'No,' your former friend simply denies and nods at the guard. He unlocks and opens the door to your cell. The Squaller walks inside and he closes the door behind her, but doesn't lock it. Then, he leaves. Zoya sits on a chair usually occupied by Baghra. She crosses her legs and looks at you.

You're sitting on a chair. You're thin, almost all skin and bone. Your complexion is grey. There are dark circles under your eyes. Your hair is matte. You look like a ghost.

'Then why are you here?' you ask. Nazyalensky sighs… and tells you everything about jurda parem. By the end of her story, you're frowning.

'That is… I've always known Fjerdans are bastards but what they did to those Grisha…' you say and shake your head. 'Still… I don't know why you have come to me.'

'We need to find an antidote,' Zoya explains. 'And you're the brightest person we know.'

'I'm not a Alkemi, though,' you say, frowning. 'And since Bo Yul-Bayur was one… you need another one to create an antidote for his work.'

'We don't have an Alkemi smart enough, apparently,' the Squaller says. 'And since you're a Durast-'

'It's not the same. We have completely different abilities.'

'Maybe. But you're still the smartest person I know. If you can't figure it out, no one can.'

You look away. You think about it in silence.

'Please, [Y/N],' Nazyalensky says quietly. 'David believes in you. So does Baghra. And… I do, too.'

'Trying to use my sentiment, well played,' you say.

'I'm not trying to manipulate you,' Zoya snaps. 'I'm not-'

She stops herself. She goes pale. You close your eyes.

'I still find it funny,' you say quietly. 'He manipulated everyone. I was manipulated by everyone but him.'

'I know he said with his last breath he loved you…' the Squaller says slowly, '… but he still didn't deserve you.'

'Perhaps,' you concede. Silence falls between you two again.

'Fine,' you finally say. 'I can try at least.'

'What do you want in return?' Zoya, who's relieved but also wary, asks. You look at her with a frown.

'I care about Grisha, too, you know,' you say. 'I want them to be safe as much as you all do. But since I can ask for something… there's one thing I want.'

*

A few months have passed since you've been officially pardoned and released from prison. It felt nice to return to your old room and not to have your hands bound. But other Grisha, obviously, don't trust you and look at you with disdain. You ignore them.

Together with David and other Materialki you try to find an antidote for jurda parem. It's not going well. One day, you even throw a mortar at the wall. David stares at it with wide eyes. You exhale slowly and run a hand through your hair.

'You know, I think it was simpler with the skiff,' you say.

'It is complex,' Kostyk says. 'Give yourself time. We're getting there.'

'And how much of that time I have?' you ask. 'The only reason I'm out of the cell is because you believed I can figure something out. When does Nikolay's patience runs out and I go back there?'

'It won't happen,' the Durast promises. You smile sadly at him. He decides to take your mind of this.

'Did you think what will you do after we find an antidote?' he asks. 'Will you… stay?'

'I am not welcome here,' you say after a beat. 'I… I don't know what I am going to do. They say, "follow your heart", but if your heart is in a million pieces, which piece do you follow?'

You blink away the tears. David looks at you with sorrow.

'You know… I miss him sometimes, too,' he admits and you look at him with interest. 'He… had something about him. A charisma. He drew us all in. We felt safe, needed. I believe that he actually cared and wanted to make Ravka better. Or at least better for Grisha. I don't think he was evil. He… just lived too long.'

'Sometimes I think so, too, ' you agree quietly. 'But then I think we didn't have enough time.'

'Did he… tell you he loved you?' Kostyk asks hesitantly.

'They were his last words,' you answer after a beat. 'For weeks I wondered whether he feels what I feel. And when I finally got a confirmation… I couldn't even be happy about it.'

You look down. The Durast wants to reach to you and squeeze your hand. But while you work, joke and spend time together… you're not as close as you used to be. He still wants to comfort you somehow.

'I'm sure you hear others gossiping,' he says after a moment. 'That he didn't and was just manipulating you. I don't believe it. He truly cared about you. I saw it. When he was dragging you away from workshop, so you could rest, for example. He was also more relaxed around you… more cheerful. And yes, it was friendship at first. But at some point, I noticed that he was looking at you differently than he used to.'

You smile at him, grateful for his words. But he's not done yet.

'When he was leading me to the workshop in the mansion,' he continues, 'he said you're there and you're definitely going to be happy to see me. He… he seemed so happy he can brighten your day. He always was like that with you.'

'If you won't stop, I'm really going to cry,' you chuckle, trying really not to break down. 'Thank you, though.'

David nods. You go for the mortar you've thrown and return to work. Your fellow Durast observes you.

'I think, though, that you deserve more,' he says after a moment. You look at him, curious.

'You deserve to be someone's priority,' he explains. 'And while there's no doubt Kirigan loved you… he cared more about the Fold and power.'

'Thank you, David,' you say. 'I… I think I really needed to hear all that you said. About… him… and me as well.'

Just then Tolya Yul-Bataar shows up at the door. He looks at you grimly.

'Speaking of,' you say and pack your things. 'See you in a week.'

'Until next week,' Kostyk says, nodding. You smile at him and leave with grumpy Tolya. You go outside and mount your horses. You set off immediately.

A few days later you reach your destination. You ride through an open space that used to be the Fold for so many centuries. Finally, you stop and dismount. Tolya stays with the horses and you continue on foot for a moment longer. At last, you stop and stare at the ground.

This is your price for helping with an antidote. Every two months, you're to travel here with someone, not always Tolya. To the place where Aleksander died. It's your way to deal with grief. At first, you wanted to come here every month. But since travelling there and back takes about a week, you agreed for two months. You're relieved Nikolay agreed at all.

'So, here I am again,' you start. 'Missing you the same way I did three years ago. I told you, didn't I? That I would never forget you. Three years it's probably not much for you, since you've lived hundreds of years. But I know you'd want me to move on by now. I don't think that's ever going to happen. You'd probably be frustrated by that.'

You exhale slowly. You can hear Tolya pacing behind you, but still giving you some privacy. You know he wishes to go back already.

'To be honest, I'm a bit frustrated, too,' you admit and your lip trembles. 'You were never supposed to mean this much to me. I was never supposed to fall so hard. But you know what? I did and that's the truth. That's what keeps me holding on, because it hurts like hell to let you go.'

Tears stream down your face. You don't stop them this time. You sniffle.

'It's hard without you,' you whisper. 'I feel lost. I don't know what to do. I wish you took me with you that day. Maybe then everything would be different.'

You fall silent. You think of what else to say, as you remember your last moments together. You saved him from merzost. But he died anyway. Still… at least you had that one last night. You smile at the memory.

'I don't know what will I do in the future,' you finally say. 'But I will find an antidote for jurda parem. And protect the Grisha. Because that's what you'd want. You'd want them to be safe and healthy. Mind you, you'd probably want to rip Fjerdans apart for what they're doing.'

You chuckle. Then, you kneel and press your hand to the sand. You focus on the ground beneath it for a moment, remembering how you held Kirigan in that spot three years ago. Your heart breaks, when you remember how he fought for his breath. But he still tried to hold on, wanting to at least tell you how he really feels.

'Until next time, Aleksander,' you whisper and stand up. You turn and return to Tolya. He fails to mask his relief that it's finally time to go. You almost roll your eyes, but you understand that most feel uneasy here. You don't. Not anymore.

'Done?' Tolya asks.

'Yes,' you confirm, mounting your horse. The Heartrender does the same.

'We can go back,' you say and you look at the place where the Darkling gave his last breath. 'I'm done here for today.'

A/N: Thank you for reading! Let me know your thoughts! Reblog, like and comment if you could. Every comment makes my day!

This can also be found on Archive of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52696933/chapters/134689462

#aleksander kirigan #aleksander morovoza #the darkling #general kirigan #reader #aleksander kirigan x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x reader #general kirigan x reader #aleksander kirigan/reader #aleksander morozova/reader #the darkling/reader #general kirigan/reader #aleksander kirigan & reader #aleksander morozova & reader #the darkling & reader #general kirigan & reader #aleksander kirigan x you #aleksander morozova x you #the darkling x you #general kirigan x you #aleksander kirigan/you #aleksander morozova/you #the darkling/you #general kirigan/you #aleksander kirigan & you #aleksander morozova & you #the darkling & you #general kirigan & you #shadow and bone

[marvelmusing]

In Another Life

Part Eight

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Alternate Universe!Reader

Summary: The Winter Fete goes smoothly, a perfect evening followed by a foiled assassination. A few days later, you and Aleksander journey into the Fold.

Warnings: canon level violence, minor character death (not graphic).

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist • Next Part

Music and conversation fills the ballroom of the Little Palace, as noble men and women mingle amongst the Grisha, all decked out in their finery for the Winter Fete.

The people are still buzzing with excitement after Alina’s performance. The power of the stag has given her a new burst of confidence, and you’re glad to see her step into her power.

Aleksander appears behind you, his head tilted down to speak directly into your ear.

“The matter has been dealt with.”

When you had warned Aleksander of an assassination attempt on Alina within the walls of the Little Palace, you know he had been upset. The thought of any of his Grisha not being safe here must be distressing for him. As a result, you had left the issue with Aleksander.

You nod, raising your drink to your lips as you murmur your response.

“Genya and Marie?”

“Both safe and unharmed.”

“Alina?”

“With Fedoyr. He will not leave her side unless she is with either of us.”

“And the perpetrator?”

At one point, you might have thought all your questions would annoy Aleksander, but now you know that he would never look down at you for being prepared.

“In custody. I will see to him later this evening.”

“I’ll join you.” His lips part, as if he’s about to protest. “Please. I want to know if I’m right about his motive.”

Aleksander nods slowly, though you can see the reluctance in his eyes. You wouldn’t be in any danger, but perhaps he doesn’t want you to see him while he interrogates someone. As if that would ever drive you away.

“You look incredible, might I add.” He says in a low voice that has a shiver running down your spine.

Warmth spreads over your cheeks, and you look down at your outfit. You and Genya had collaborated on the design, and you are very pleased with the result. The material is wonderful, and it fits you perfectly.

“I see you’ve brought your summer colours out early for occasion. A bold move.” You tease, referring to his black kefta. The same kefta that he wears every day. He narrows his eyes at you, and you take another drink.

“Your fiancé is approaching.” You nearly choke on your drink in alarm.

“What? Why?”

Once your gaze lands on Vasily, you see that he is indeed heading in your direction, and you turn to Aleksander with wide eyes. The corner of his mouth quirks in amusement as he answers.

“I believe he wants to dance with you.”

You place your glass down on a nearby tray, and begin to fidget with the chunky emerald ring on your finger.

“Oh no.”

Genya had helped to teach you the basics of all the dances that would be held at the Fete, but you’re far from confident. Certainly not confident enough to dance with a Prince - let alone the Crown Prince that you’re engaged to.

“Your Highness.” Aleksander greets him with a bow, and you do the same. Vasily smiles politely at you both.

“Might I steal your assistant from you, General Kirigan?”

“I’m off duty tonight.” You remark, and Aleksander sends a look at you, no doubt reminding you to pretend that you’re enjoying your engagement.

“Then I am most lucky.” Vasily says with a smile that looks incredibly forced. You mirror his smile, and decide to show Aleksander exactly how good you are at pretending.

“I believe I’m the lucky one, Your Highness.” He inclines his head.

“Vasily, please.” He insists. “Would you care to join me for the next dance?”

First name basis already. You are engaged after all, but the two of you have only exchanged a handful of conversations over the last month, which has been quite a relief.

You have the distinct impression that he’s only asking you to dance because of his mother’s insistences. Looking down for a brief moment, you smile and offer him your hand.

“I would love to dance with you, Vasily.”

He takes your hand, leading you through the crowd, and you cast one final look at Aleksander before he disappears from your view.

Vasily leads the dance, and you misstep on a number of occasions, your face burning with embarrassment every time. The conversation isn’t too awkward, despite several pauses as you go through the motions of the dance.

He asks you a few questions about yourself, and your answers don’t require too much thought. Remembering his interest in horse racing, you decide to mention the subject. For the first time, his face lights up, and he explains about his most recent purchase.

You know very little of horses, only what Aleksander has taught you, but you try to follow his explanations as best as possible.

Once you finally get into the flow of it, you think you could enjoy dancing. Only as soon as you start to think that, the music draws to a close.

When you step off the dance floor, the two of you linger beside one another for a long moment. You wonder whether he wants you to stay by his side now. Then someone calls out his name, and he turns in their direction.

Looking back at you for a brief moment, he gestures towards them.

“Please excuse me.” He says. You nod, bowing your head politely.

“Thank you for the dance.”

A slightly apologetic smile tugs at your lips as you remember the small wince on his face when you had accidentally kicked his shin. He takes your hand in his own.

“Have a wonderful evening.” He tells you, rather distractedly, pressing a chaste kiss to your knuckles. Then he steps away, melting back into the crowd.

The eyes on you soon find something more interesting to look at, though you still feel the weight of them as you weave through the crowd back to Aleksander.

He smiles softly when he sees you, finishing the last of whatever drink he had secured while you were away.

“How was it?” He asks, and you breathe out a small laugh.

“I’m sure Zoya found it very funny. She’s usually the one I’m tripping over during combat practice.” He frowns slightly as he places his empty glass down.

“Fedoyr told me you were doing well.” Now it’s your turn to frown.

“He must have been exaggerating.”

“Very well then.” He holds his hand out to you, and your brows lift in questioning. “Show me these atrocious skills of yours.”

With a small sigh, you take his hand in yours. There’s no arguing with Aleksander, though if you weren’t in public you might have tried to. But he has a reputation to maintain, and people would question your relationship if you openly defied him in such a manner.

“I can understand why you might have some difficulty dancing with His Royal Highness.” Aleksander muses quietly as he leads you through the crowd.

“Because I’m a poor dancer?” He shakes his head.

“On the contrary.”

Raising a brow at him, you wait for him to elaborate as you take your position on the dance floor. Nerves fill you once again, at the thought of making a fool of yourself two dances in a row.

Aleksander’s hand settles on your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, and you look down quickly to check your feet. He hooks a finger under your chin, raising your eyes to meet his, and the pad of his thumb grazes delicately over your cheekbone. His next words are a low murmur that sends a thrill through you.

“You need to trust your partner.”

Then the music begins.

Aleksander leads, and every step you take is synchronised with his own. Not once do you tread on his toes as you spin around the ballroom in his arms.

With every turn and dip, you find yourself unable to look away from him, or to fight the smile growing on your face as the music sweeps you up.

“Is the Fete living up to your expectations?” He asks you. Your smile widens and you nod.

“It’s more than I ever dreamed of.”

Something softens in his eyes as he spins you around fully. You’re glad Aleksander had asked you to plan the Fete. It had been nice to think about more trivial things, like having the chandeliers polished or commissioning an ice sculpture, rather than tracking down a mythical creature or fighting a war.

There’s a moment of silence, before you decide to bring up what’s been lingering in the back of your mind all day. This is the first time you and Aleksander have truly had the chance to speak with one another today.

“Are you certain Baghra won’t try anything tonight?” Aleksander’s brows crease together for a moment.

“She shouldn’t. But I have my men keeping an eye on her, as a precaution.” You nod.

“I meant to ask you about it before, but with all the preparations going on, it slipped my mind.” He nods in understanding, and you smile almost sheepishly as you add, “I may have created my own contingency plan, just in case.”

The corner of his mouth quirks with the edge of a smirk.

“I’m hardly surprised to hear such a thing.” He spins you, pressing your back flush against his chest for the next few steps. His lips graze your ear as he asks, “What is it?”

Turning your head, your gaze settles on his lips before they drift up to his eyes, and you remember that he had asked you a question.

“Alina will be spending the night with Nadia and Marie. A Winter Fete sleepover. That way Baghra won’t be able to find her, or get her alone, and Alina remains unaware.”

“An excellent idea.” He praises, and your cheeks flush as he spins you back around to face him.

“Thank you.”

There’s a small smile on his lips as he observes your reaction.

“I believe I should also be thanking you.” At that, your brows draw together in a small frown.

“What for?”

“Tonight. You’ve made everything… quite perfect.”

A comfortable warmth settles in your chest, like the glow of the summer sun over your skin, and you watch his expression carefully as you speak your next words.

“I know you don’t particularly enjoy the Fete.” His lips part, as if he’s about to make some sort of excuse. “I can understand why. Grisha are people, not party tricks. You shouldn’t have to prove your value to anyone.”

There’s a moment of silence between you both, where the sounds of the ballroom fill the lack of conversation. Aleksander’s eyes move away from yours as he assures you in a small voice,

“I can’t tell you what that means to me.”

Once his eyes meet yours again, you see the emotion in them, and you’re surprised you don’t stumble over your feet. A soft smile touches your lips, as you respond in an equally low tone.

“I already know.”

Aleksander smiles.

“Of course you do.”

»»---------------------►

Zoya leads you and Aleksander down the rough stone stairs, your footsteps echoing.

“Has he talked?” Aleksander asks her.

“A lot of lies. Ivan’s with him.”

The iron gate swings open with a screech, and you follow the two of them down into the catacombs underneath the Little Palace.

Stone walls encase you, the small space illuminated by a plentiful number of torches, flickering their amber light over the shadows.

Ivan stands straight with his hands folded together, and beside him a man sits tied to a chair. The man has a shimmer of sweat glossing over his features, some bruises already forming on the side of his face, and his clothes are crumpled, evidently from a struggle.

“I’ve been swindled. Hoodwinked.” The man says, his wide eyes looking at each of you as you approach him.

“My guards tell me that they caught you at the scene of an attempted crime.” Aleksander states calmly, his hands resting unclasped on either side of him.

The man opens his mouth, gaping for a moment, his eyes frantic.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He shakes his head, stumbling over his words. “I’m an entertainer. Oskar. Oskar Krepkov.”

Aleksander raises a brow at you.

“My assistant here organised every aspect of the Winter Fete. Including the entertainers. Does Mr Krepkov’s name ring a bell?”

Keeping your eyes on the man in front of you, a crease of feigned concentration crosses your face before you respond casually.

“Funnily enough, it doesn’t.”

“How peculiar.” He muses, walking slowly towards the bound man.

Grasping hard onto his forearm, Aleksander pushes the man’s sleeve up to reveal a series of black tally marks tattooed onto his inner arm. Each mark represents a successful trip across the Fold. There’s a startling number of them.

“Well that certainly is entertaining.” Aleksander says, his fingers pressing hard into the man’s skin. “You are the Conductor, Arken Visser, are you not?”

Visser swallows hard, trembling under Aleksander’s gaze. Once Aleksander releases him, he steps away, his jaw tense and his eyes dark with anger.

“You smuggle Grisha out of my palace.” Aleksander snarls furiously.

His frustration is tangible in the air, prickling over your skin. When Visser looks hopefully back at you, whimpering a quiet plea, your resentment rises to the surface and you snap.

“You profit off frightened children and desperate families. Don’t look to me for sympathy.”

If Aleksander is surprised by your outburst, he doesn’t show it.

“Would you like to hear my theory?” You ask lightly, but don’t wait for a response before you continue. “I think, a certain West Ravkan General has ambitions to rule his own country. To do so, the Fold would need to remain intact, which is where you come in, Mr Visser.”

The facade of frightened innocence slowly falls from his face with every word of your accusation. When you finish, Aleksander continues, circling Visser with a dangerous look in his eyes.

“You made a deal with him.” As Aleksander passes Ivan, the heartrender wisely moves out of the way. “You put on a disguise. And you played at being assassin.”

Visser straightens, staring back at you both with a resolute expression as Aleksander returns to his place beside you.

“That’s right.” He says. “Zlatan offered me a million to kill the sun summoner. So, give me half that. I can get close to Zlatan.”

Aleksander turns his head aside, and Zoya unfolds her arms, turning to leave. Ivan pauses for a moment, before he follows her.

For a moment, Aleksander’s eyes meet yours, a mixture of questioning and acceptance lingering there. He’s expecting you to turn away. You remain at his side. As their footsteps recede, Aleksander says quietly,

“No. I think I’ll handle that myself.”

With that, he steps back, turning on his heel, and you do the same. Aleksander brings his hand up, curling his fingers lightly as he calls forth the shadows.

“But I can help.” Visser calls out as the two of you walk away. “Tell me how I can help.”

Aleksander pulls his hands together, cupping his fist for a moment before he releases his right hand. With two fingers pointing upwards, he flicks them back in a tossing motion as he remarks in a low voice.

“You already have.”

Even without looking, you can sense the shadows swarming from the depths of the catacombs, creeping towards Visser. You hear him struggling to break free, panic in his movements, as the shadows lengthen around him.

Aleksander holds the door open for you, as Visser chokes out his final breath in the shadows.

»»---------------------►

“You should rest.” Aleksander insists from where he’s sitting at the head of the makeshift bed in his tent. “We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

You shake your head, continuing to pace beside the foot of the bed. Tomorrow, you journey into the Fold. Hopefully, Alina will be able to fend off any volcra that come for you, but you’re still worried.

“Too much to think about.” You argue, but you still decide to lie down on the bed beside him regardless. Together you stare up at the ceiling for a long moment.

“Are you certain our plan for Zlatan will work?” He asks you. Mulling it over in your mind once again, you nod.

“If he’s coward enough to not risk crossing the Fold himself, a scare tactic like this will be enough to startle him and his followers. It’ll give us a time advantage to gain the upper hand. A show of strength, with limited casualties.”

Aleksander nods along with your reasoning, but you can’t suppress a small sigh as you run a hand over your face.

“I just hope I’m right.”

That isn’t the only thing weighing on your mind, and Aleksander seems to know this. His thumb rubs a slow circle against your bare forearm, that you’ve cast up over your head.

“Are you afraid of the Fold?” He asks softly.

There’s a pause before you admit,

“A little.”

He breathes out a small laugh.

“You don’t have to say only a little to spare my feelings.”

“Are you afraid of it?”

He goes silent at your question, but his thumb doesn’t stop its comforting motion. You wait patiently for whatever response he is considering.

“Did I ever tell Alina about Luda?”

There’s a softness in his voice, making his words feel fragile, and you study his face as you shake your head.

“She was a healer. The only healer we had at the time. There were less than twenty of us, in hiding, together.”

“When was this?” You ask in a near whisper.

“During Anastas’ rule.”

He nods grimly when he sees your expression sadden knowingly. Anastas was the King who placed a bounty on Aleksander’s head, dubbing him the Black Heretic, which eventually led to the creation of the Fold.

“She opened up a clinic, it was only a small cottage in the woods, but she wanted to help people.”

Looking up at Aleksander, you can see how distant his gaze is, lost in his memories.

“Ravka was growing worse for Grisha, day by day. I begged her to join us in hiding and she agreed, albeit reluctantly.”

His eyes darken, and you know the story is about to take a painful turn.

“The King’s guards found us before we could leave. Together, we tried to hold them off but Luda was wounded.” His jaw tenses. “I killed them all. But I couldn’t save her.”

Turning your body over to lie on your stomach and face Aleksander, you take his hand in your own. There’s a small smile on the edge of his lips, but he looks down sadly.

“She died because of me.”

You shake your head, and immediately try to comfort him.

“All you did was try to protect her.”

“And I failed.” There’s a sharpness in his eyes as he lifts his gaze up to meet yours. “I couldn’t stand it any longer. Watching my people die. Seeing them frightened and helpless. My grandfather thought merzost could be used to control people.”

The mention of merzost has your stomach plummeting. You hope that Aleksander will never have to resort to such measures again.

A different version of Aleksander, scarred and pale, exhausted by the creation of shadow monsters, fills your mind. An Aleksander you hope you will never see.

“I faced the King’s army alone, buying the few Grisha left enough time to get away. I tried to bend his army to my will.”

“Instead you created the volcra.” You say in a low voice. “Merzost always comes with a price.”

He nods slowly.

“My price was the Fold. Though I’m not the one who continues to pay for it.”

You can’t imagine how he must feel. Accidentally creating a blight that scars your country for centuries, claiming hundreds of lives. How heavily those losses must weigh on Aleksander’s shoulders.

“Alina never finds out how the Fold was created.” You tell him quietly, your thumb tracing over his knuckles delicately. Aleksander’s eyes are on you, as you watch the movement of your digit. “I think she just believes what Baghra tells her. That you created it in a mad ploy for power.”

“Did you ever believe that?” You shake your head.

“I always thought there was some sort of explanation for it.” Your eyes lift up to meet his. “Thank you for telling me the truth.”

“Thank you for staying to hear it.”

Neither of you speak after that, simply lying beside one another until you both fall asleep.

»»---------------------►

The next morning is bright and cold, despite the first signs of spring arriving. Pulling your cloak tighter around your body, you follow Aleksander and Alina as they walk through the camp at Kribirsk.

All around you, First Army soldiers stop and stare. Some kiss their saint tokens, while others pray openly for your safe passage. You don’t believe in the saints, but a small part of you hopes that prayers still carry some weight.

The rest of the passengers have already boarded the skiff, so the moment you set foot onto the deck, the final preparations are made. Alina stands at the head of the bow, staring the Fold head on with Mal at her side.

“Are you ready?” Aleksander asks you, coming to a stop at your side.

“I think so.”

He turns his head, looking up at Zoya. With a simple nod, he orders her to move the skiff. A breeze ruffles your hair as she calls forth the wind to fill the sails. The skiff moves forward, plowing resolutely towards the Fold.

No turning back now.

The darkness engulfs your vision, and without thinking you reach blindly for Aleksander. Even in the pitch black, you find him. His hand is warm, and he provides you with a comforting squeeze as his fingers curl tightly around yours.

Your eyes adjust slowly to the darkness, and the light of the blue lantern at the centre of the skiff provides you with some assistance.

As each second passes by, you grow more and more nervous. Alina’s hands remain at her sides, and the volcra cry out in the distance. Sickening screeches, that you’ve only ever heard in your nightmares.

“What are we waiting for?” You ask in a whisper.

Aleksander turns his head to look at the ambassadors and dignitaries assembled behind you. They shift nervously, looking around for any sign of movement lurking in the darkness.

“Building the anticipation.”

“As well as my stress levels.” You mutter, and Aleksander dips his head down to respond with amusement in his voice.

“Don’t worry, Ivan will keep an eye on your heart.”

How can he be joking at a time like this? Then he nods at Alina, and she casts her arms out.

Light blossoms out from within her, illuminating the deck of the skiff, and you breathe a sigh of relief. She channels her power into a long pathway, lighting the way for Zoya to guide the skiff onwards through the Fold.

In the distance you can see a bright dot of sunlight - Novokribirsk.

The sight of it brings some of your nerves back, as you remember what is to come - the rest of your plan.

Volcra continue to scream from within the Fold, and at one point a crooked talon reaches through the barrier of light, though it retreats with a whimper as the sun scorches its rotten skin.

The passengers seem much more at ease, and some even move to the side of the skiff to stare into the Fold.

Before you know it, you’ve reached the edge of the Fold, and the port at Novokribirsk is visible over the stretch of sand that covers the distance between you and Zlatan’s men waiting to ambush you. As Aleksander had ordered her previously, Zoya brings the skiff to a stop.

At your request, Aleksander had informed the Grisha about your plan. If things went awry, you wanted everyone to be on the same page - knowing that Zlatan is the enemy not Aleksander.

“One more demonstration.” Aleksander calls out, and the people behind you stare with a mixture of curiosity and confusion.

In the book, Aleksander uses Alina’s power to push the Fold outwards. Because of you, he doesn’t have access to Alina’s power. But you still have hope.

In theory, Alina’s light has carved out a space within the Fold. That darkness still exists, her light has only moved it, and you’re hoping that Aleksander has the strength to redirect the darkness towards Novokribirsk.

There’s a small familiar rumble, as Aleksander begins to summon the shadows.

“You’ve all seen what the sun summoner can do. Now bear witness to what I can do, now that the Fold is ours to control.”

He brings his hands together.

A frightening storm of darkness surges forward, heading towards the town. Even from this distance, you can see people running away in terror. With any luck, Zlatan will be one of them.

Aleksander’s brows are furrowed in concentration, and for a brief moment you worry that he might not stop. Then he drops his hands. The darkness halts in its wake, skirting the edge of the docks.

Silence falls.

The Grisha and soldiers surrounding you grin wildly, shock and delight filling their faces. Ravka is no longer a deadbeat country, fighting wars it can never hope of winning. For the first time, in a long time, the people have hope.

Aleksander turns to the ambassadors.

“Take what you have seen back to your own countries. Tell the Shu Han. Tell the Fjerdans. The Fold is no longer the burden it once was for Ravka. We are entering a new age.”

You’re reminded of something Aleksander should have said to Alina, when they had journeyed to Os Alta at the beginning of the book. The age of Grisha power is coming to an end.

Aleksander looks back at you with triumph shining in his eyes.

The age of Grisha power has only just begun.

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse

In Another Life Tag List: @parabatai-winchester @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @jambolska-grozdova @mxacegrey @budugu @cynthianokamaria @scarlettqueen190 @eloquentree @sharp-cheekbones-locked @sorrow-and-bliss @biblophilefox82 @tartiflvtte @rainbowgoblinfan

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia

#in another life au #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling #the darkling x reader #the darkling x you #the darkling x y/n #the darkling au #shadow and bone #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader #in another life chapters

[unrequitedloveletter]

The One- n.l x gn! tidemaker! reader

Okay! This is one of two parts, and the second part is going to come out tomorrow! I’ve got two two part fics coming out this week with a standalone coming out friday, and I have to say that this two-parter is probably the best two parter I’ve written in a bit. The Spring Break fic-athon is a pretty simplistic event, and not really an event as it were, but fics will come out everyday this week. The title for this fic comes from the 1 by taylor swift, which inspired this fic partially! 

Requests for Nikolai, as well as Alina, Mal, and Zoya, are officially open! I’m clearing out whats left in my inbox this week and will probably get started on any requests I get around Wednesday or Thursday, after I watch season two of Shadow and Bone and have finished my grishaverse reread. 

On another note, I’m not quite sure if the ship that they end up on in Siege and Storm is the volknvoy, so forgive me if it’s not but I do remember that there was a ship with that name in those books so if it’s the wrong one forgive me. 

Fic type- hurt/comfort 

Warnings- none

Yours and Nikolais relationship had existed in the time before the war. You met while Nikolai was in the infantry and you were working alongside him, and by the time you were eighteen, you’d been together six months. You joined his crew when he took up the identity of Sturmhond. 

You loved him through all of it, through every minute of the war, from the moment he had Alina and the Darkling aboard the whaler to the moment the sun saint, her lover and the rest of Nikolais crew took to the sea on the Volknvoy and found Rusalye. 

But still, somewhere in there, your relationship began to crack, until at some point, it broke completely. You fled to Novyi Zem while the rest of the people you knew, the people you cared about, played their parts in the fate of Alina Starkovs martyrdom and the destruction of the Unsea. 

You didn’t think you’d come to Ravka ever again when you finally settled into your life, living in a small flat and using your small science to fill the basin when dishes needed washing or when the kettle went empty. You enjoyed working in a small boutique, making enough money from it to live comfortably. 

In the weeks after the deaths of Alina Starkov and the Darkling, you came home from a shift at the boutique to see a note from Tamar and Tolya sitting on your dining room table. You noticed a new set of keftas draped over the backs of three of the four chairs that sat at it.

You will always be welcome at the Little Palace, Tamars note read. Bring your kefta if you come. Tolya and I have taken care to ensure that you’re not stuck with the one you left with for the rest of your life. Come around when the replacements wear out, we’ll get you some new ones and talk over a samovar of tea. 

It’d made you smile, made you weep a little bit for the life that you could’ve had if things had been only slightly different. You missed Ravka, you did. You missed it helplessly, missed the familiar walkways of the Little Palace, missed Zoyas sarcasm and the sound of Genyas laughter. 

You missed watching Tamar as she sparred effortlessly with her axes and grinning knowingly whenever you saw her flirt with Nadia, missed even Tolyas poetry, hearing him recite his poems that could go on for hours if anyone was able to tolerate it. 

You missed Nikolai. You missed the glossy way of his hair, the quick, self assuredness in his smile, the fact that he always knew what to say until your etherealness stunned him into quite the opposite, missed the sound of his laughter and the way of his words. 

But, you pushed it all down. 

You continued working at the boutique. You bought a tote bag, grew accustomed to the never-ending sun and thanked the saints that air conditioning was included in your rent. You stopped wearing your amplifier because you had no need for it. You never quite let the kettle go empty and you enjoyed the smell of coffee from a coffee press. 

You let yourself let people in, let yourself make friends and find people to call family. You met a Tidemaker like yourself, laughed at his jokes and congratulated him when it came to your ears that he’d gotten engaged. You went home tired and fell asleep by the last coals of a fire in the following hours. You woke up refreshed and visited the market stalls. 

But, deep down, as the years passed and no word of Nikolais engagement or marriage reached your ears, some part of you knew that you weren’t quite done with all of it yet. 

Some part of you knew that you would see that self assured smile that you missed once again, that you would watch, with a delighted smile of your own, as the King Nikolai stumbled to find adequate words. You would see his hair, blonde but turned gold in the sunlight, and you would see his eyes, the tiredness in them, the beauty in them even still. 

You knew not when the day would come, though you could admit that there was a part of you that looked forward to it. There had long been a part of you that missed the life you’d once had, and as such, you knew that you would have to continue to live the life you’d found until that old life found its way back to you.

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix

[thebadgerclan]

Over

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x reader

Summary: It’s all over...

A/N: And here’s the sad-ish fluff!  I have a few ideas for some Nikolai fluff, so I might write some of that too 😂

It was a miracle.  The sun shone down on his face as Aleksander staggered to his feet, the light overwhelming after the darkness of the Fold.  Sunlight had not graced the Tula Valley in over 400 years, and now, thanks to Alina, it shone brightly.  His nichevo’ya rose from the sand, knowing their master was wounded.  But Inej and Zoya managed to kill them, the Neshyenyer slicing them down like they were nothing at all.

When Aleksander got to his feet, Alina was standing before him, tears in her eyes.  “Now,” he said.  “You know sacrifice.”  “Beyond anything you’ve ever known,” she snapped, and Aleksander shook his head.  He knew sacrifice, he knew the pain Alina felt, he knew it well.  He’d felt the same pain when he found you, a gaping wound in your abdomen, a First army issue bayonet lying at your side.

“Aleksander,” you’d cried, clutching your stomach.  “Aleksander, I..”  “Shhh, it’s alright, my love,” your husband said, gently pulling you into his lap.  “I’m here.  Right here, Y/N.”  There was far too much blood, and you were too far from camp to make it to a Healer.  “Sasha,” you wheezed, a trickle of blood escaping your lips.  “I love you.  I love you so much.  I have always loved you.”  You knew you were dying; the pain had stopped and your entire body felt warm.  “I love you too, my darling,” Aleksander said, kissing you softly.  “I’ve got you.”  You died in his arms, your husband’s nichevo’ya howling with his grief and rage.

“And look what it did.”  “Indeed.  Look what it did.  Perhaps you now understand what it truly means to sacrifice, to lose.  You have my sympathy for what comes next.  When you realize that what you’ve done solves nothing.”  Aleksander pressed a hand to the wound in his abdomen, so very near where yours had been.  “The world doesn’t need a Saint to protect it, it needs a monster.  And while I remain, let me be your monster, let me carry the hatred of this world.  Tell me, Alina, who will be there to be your equal, to save you?”

Alina grabbed his wrist when he reached for her. “I will save myself,” she said, pushing his hand away from her.  Aleksander fell to his knees, wracked by cough, and a nichevo’ya formed from his body.  It surged forth and took Alina by the neck, lifting her into the air.  Aleksander tried to call it off, but it smacked him back, ignoring its master’s command.  Inej threw the Neshyenyer, the blade arcing to destroy the shadow demon, letting Alina fall to the sand.

“You can’t control them, can you?” she asked, her voice raspy.  “You can’t control any of it.”  Aleksander smiled softly.  “I thought I could control it all once,” he said, extending his hand to her, in one final attempt.  “Find peace.  And for a moment… I swear I did.”  He lifted his face to the sun, closing his eyes, allowing his thoughts to turn to you.

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met.”  “I bet you say that to everyone.”  “No, just you.”------ Your nose pressed to a bouquet of roses, a soft, shy smile on your face.  “General, are you asking me on a date?”  “I am, Miss L/N.”----- Your face, pressed against his pillows, hair a mess, mouth open as you slept.  “Y/N L/N, I cannot wait to make you my wife.”----- The ring he’d made; black diamonds and gold, glimmering on your finger, tears in your eyes, a beaming smile on your face.  “I love you,” you’d repeated.  “I love you, I love you, I love you!”----- You in your wedding gown, shimmering gold shot thorugh with black, your gaze whilly fixed on him.  “Aleksander Morozova, I will love you until I am dust on the wind.”  “Y/N Morozova, I will love you with every part of my heart.”----- You, lying naked in his arms, the sheets draped over your waist, pressing kisses to his chest.----- You, standing before your vanity, fastening your kefta.----- You, curled before the fire, reading.-----You.-----You.-----You

A white hot pain pierced him, and Aleksander looked down to see the Nesyenyer lodged in his abdomen, Alina’s hands wrapped around the hilt.  He sputtered, black blood dribbling from his lips.  “Without me,” he said.  “Know they will come for you.”  “Let them come.”  Alina withdrew the blade, and Aleksander toppled backwards.  She stood over him, her face blocking out the sun.  “You make sure I am buried with Y/N,” he said, feeling himself weaken.  “Please.”  Alina nodded, and Aleksander gasped.

Behind Alina, another figure entered his field of vision, you.  You wore your black kefta and you were smiling at him.  “Aleksander,” you said, extending a hand to him.  You’d been with him since your death, but he’d been unable to see you until now, when death was creeping in.  “Y/N,” he managed, his eyes closing.  But when they opened, he felt a new surge of strength, and he rose to his feet.  “My love,” he said, pulling you into his arms.  “Y/N.”  “It’s alright,” you said, holding him as tightly as he was holding you.  “It’s all over now.”

After several minutes of holding you close, Aleksander looked behind, seeing his body sprawled on the sand.  “I was always with you,” you said, cupping his cheek.  His scars were gone, the Stag’s wound on his hand completely healed.  “Every moment, Sasha.  You fought so hard for so long, my love.  But now you can rest, you’ve earned it.”  Your husband let out a sob and sank to his knees, clutching your kefta.

The month since your death had been the most difficult month of his life.  Going on without you had been next to impossible, and now that you were here, now that he was dead, Aleksander could process everything that had happened: the choices he’d made, the friends he'd lost, the pain he’d suffered.  You knelt beside him, pulling him into your arms.  “Shh, Aleksander, let it out.  It’s alright, I’m here.  Just let it out, my love.”  Aleksander buried his face in your chest, relieved to find that you carried the same smell, the scent that always comforted him.

“I missed you so much,” your husband managed.  “Oh Y/N, every day without you was torture.”  “I know, my darling,” you replied, carding a hand through his hair.  “But you’re here now, and you never have to be without me again.”  “Promise?”  He felt like a child for asking, but the thought of ever leaving your side was unbearable.  “I promise, Aleksander.  I love you, I love you so very much.”  “I love you too, milaya,” he replied, kissing you at last.  For several, blissful minutes, your husband kissed you, pulling you into his lap.  “We have eternity together,” you said.  “And I will love you for every last minute of it.”  Aleksander blinked back tears, kissing you again.  “As will I, my love.”

#aleksander morozova x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction #the darkling x reader #general kirigan x reader #shadow and bone reader insert

[metvmorqhoses]

A big issue that they (unfortunately) carried over into the show was how dense Alina is. Yes, Aleksander came off as a weak obsessive rather than someone who was entangled in a mutually complex yet deeply felt connection with Alina, yet he was posing very REAL and valid questions towards her which were brushed off with reactionary and flipppant answers. They had a chance to address these real issues Alina faces alone with him out of the picture. Because he’s posed as the villain, his centuries long experience is completely thrown out the window instead of at least contemplated. Unless the show writers are planning to tackle this in a substantial way next season they otherwise come across as incredibly stupid at least. He’s known loss, he’s known love and pain and violence and all of that is completely disregarded and shunned by Alina who in the books (which I still have issues with) at the bare minimum acknowledges a real connection towards him. I mean, she boldly asserts she will walk her own path and not five minutes after his death is already dabbling in morally grey territory because *shocker* things aren’t actually black and white (good or bad) as she thought.

You know, the more I think about this season putting it against the implication the ending gave us, the more I'm convinced it was done on purpose. I refuse to believe they reached this level of utter absurdity for real and no one thought to stop them.

The only way this even thicker Alina makes any sense in the grand scheme of things is to consider the entire season her corruption origin story. This interpretation is actually backed up by many subtle things and literally most of her exchanges with the Darkling.

He tries to make her understand things, he constantly tries to warn her about power and their unique circumstances, about balance and sacrifice - she doesn't listen and only villainizes him further and further (constantly making him her villain), while the plot actually slowly and unrelentingly proves him right. She calls him power-hungry and immediately proceeds to desperately search for the next amplifier. In their every interaction he acts as the proud mentor, even calling her "one of his out-of-control creations" and saying things like "I saw what you truly are and I never turned away". She takes off her kefta saying she will never wear his color again - her own dress underneath is black. As the season progresses, her makeup turns darker and darker. She's obsessed with tearing down the Fold almost as if it was her way to prove something to herself more than for the sake of Ravka ("Ravkans will see the skies from here one day, by my power!"), that probably would have actually benefited from the existence of it at that precise moment in time. She shames him for his use of Merzost and then proceeds to use it for the most selfish reason imaginable. The Darkling's ending is also very odd, I'm more and more convinced he actually went there with the intention of being killed by her (he basically closed his eyes and waited for her sword), afraid of his uncontrollable powers. He even begs her to make sure "nothing of him remains", and if at first I was influenced by the books' reason (he didn't want his body desecrated), I now actually think he was trying to make sure nothing of that infectious power remained to haunt her and Ravka while he was gone - and what I think actually happened right away to both Nikolai and Alina, immediately possessed and, in her case, corrupted. This is even teased by Nikolai's attire in the last moments of the show. When I was watching it I immediately noticed they put him into a black uniform with a golden "eagle" that looked strangely way too similar to Alina's kefta from the Winter Fete and even to Aleksander's new one. I found it odd and then, surprise surprise, Nikolai is possessed! Is everything a big coincidence? I think not.

In short, the entirety of the narrative is actually hinting at the same thing, proving her wrong and the Darkling right. Even with the wisps of light in his kefta and her shadow cut, I think they are definitely hinting at their shared powers and probably they more in-depth books dynamic in season three. This would also explain why they didn't include any canon darklina scene this season. They are saving them for later.

#it's either this or absolute madness that hints at this but it's a trap instead #thinking again about the season under these lenses makes more sense #it's still wild tho #shadow and bone #shadow and bone s2 #darklina #the darkling #alina starkov #anon #asks/replies #one and one thousand stories lis told

[lassieposting]

S&B Characters + Sleep Headcanons

Aleksander Kirigan doesn't get a lot of sleep. He claims it's because he's an incredibly busy man, and that's often true - long hours are basically part of his job description - but in truth it's just as likely to be any of a dozen other things keeping him from his bed; nightmares, occasional merzost headaches, intrusive thoughts, the ghosts of fuck-ups past, the relentless stress and worry of trying to keep Ravka's borders secure with dwindling funds and forces. Over the centuries he's learned to bury himself in his work to avoid his demons, and he's become one of those people who's perfectly functional on four hours of sleep, considers six a lie-in, and will sporadically go days at a time without sleeping when he's not doing well.

For most of his life, he's been immensely wary of falling asleep beside a lover - there are few worse ways to discover your bed partner was just out to kill you for bone jewelry than waking up mid-assassination attempt. If he's keen enough on them to not have them leave after a casual encounter - say, Zoya - he'll usually stay with them until they fall asleep, and then get up and go quietly do some work or read until morning. He's willing to adapt, though, for the right person - Nikolai and Alina can both settle him enough to stay with them all night. The trick, as it turns out, is playing on his touch starvation; on the rare occasion he finds someone he can actually trust, he likes to be held, and affectionate little gestures like playing with his hair or scritching his stubble or massaging his shoulders will melt him and flick his OFF button real fast. He's surprisingly cuddly, though he'll swear blind that he just gets cold easily and Alina and Nikolai both run hot.

Nikolai Lantsov is very tactile and affectionate in general, so when he's sharing someone's bed, he likes to cuddle. Like most soldiers - and kings who have survived more assassins than anyone should ever have to - he's a light sleeper, but he also drops off easily, the legacy of learning to get his head down wherever and whenever he can in an active warzone. He likes to sprawl out over or wrap himself around his lovers, and he does a lot of idly playing with hair or repetitive stroking up and down random stretches of skin, almost like he's self-soothing by comforting someone else.

He's been known to react to things happening around him while still asleep - pulling Alina in against his chest if he feels her shiver, or rolling over to throw an arm over Aleksander and mumble easy, Sasha if he's having a bad dream. He has nightmares of his own - he spent his military service on the front lines, not safe in an officer's tent like Vasily - and he tends to burrow into the closest warm body for comfort, burying his face in Alina's chest or Sasha's shoulder to ground himself. Aleksander will almost always wake up for this and react, reassuring and resettling Niko. Alina, not so much.

Alina Starkov sleeps like the dead. Once she is out, she is Out, and she'll sleep through pretty much anything short of a bomb being dropped on the palace. For quite a while this actually frightens her - she worries she won't wake up in time if she's attacked - but Niko is a light sleeper and Aleksander startles awake if a butterfly sneezes in Novyi Zem, so once they're all sharing a bed she's perfectly safe to conk out like a light. She's always had very vivid dreams, but she doesn't remember them for long after she wakes, so she keeps a sketchpad by the bed so she can draw any ideas or lingering impressions she wants to hang onto after she wakes - a concept for a machine Nikolai might want to build, a kefta design Aleksander would look devastatingly good in, old memories from the war she needs to exorcise, random nonsense that makes no sense outside of the context of her dream. She's usually the last to wake - Aleksander and Nikolai are both military and ridiculously busy besides, so they're often up with the Saints-forsaken sun, but Alina loves a lie-in, and would much rather stay up late than wake early.

Mal Oretsev is used to taking turns on watch with other soldiers, so he tends to sleep in short bursts of a few hours at a time. This poses a challenge once he takes over the Volkvolny - he has a lot of extra time to sleep now that he didn't have before. He spends a lot of it painstakingly working his way through the collection of books in Sturmhond's - his - stateroom. If he's to play the role, he should probably have the knowledge, and he'd rather be able to pull his weight without getting in the crew's way. He enjoys the engineering manuals and seafaring tomes, but mostly uses the ones on statecraft to make himself doze off when his brain doesn't want to shut down and be quiet.

Genya Safin is a paranoid sleeper. Her bed is positioned and angled so she can watch the thin strip of light visible beneath her closed door, waiting for the old king's loathsome shadow to block out the glow from the other side. Long after his death, she'll wake and go rigid at the sound of footsteps in the hall. It takes her a while to actually let David into her bed, but when she does, she realises she finds him comforting, actually - he's so logical and steady that he can talk her down from even the worst of her dreams. He doesn't mind getting up to prove to her that her door is locked, or reassuring her nightly that the old king really is dead.

David Kostyk is That Guy. He talks in his sleep - quadratic equations and theories of immutability and assorted Fabrikator shop-talk. He gets up and wanders around sometimes - usually to and from his desk, but occasionally down the hall. At least once he's gotten up, put on a housecoat, double-checked the lock on the door for Genya, comforted her after a nightmare, and gone back to bed himself, having never really woken up in the first place. This is a known habit at the Little Palace, and has caused plenty of entertainment and consternation - he's "caught" Nikolai sneaking out of the Black General's chambers back when he was still the spare tsarevich, he's wandered into the war room at four-thirty in the morning to explain a prototype to General Kirigan, he's been found ambling about the kitchens barefoot. Everyone who tends to stay up late - Kirigan included - has kindly escorted David back to his own rooms at least once. His saving grace is that he's really quite particular about his pyjamas - they're Durast-made to feel heavy, like a weighted blanket, and he finds it difficult to drop off without the grounding sensation - so at least he's never gone sleepwalking in his birthday suit. He wanders a little less once he starts spending his nights with Genya - if she's resting her head on his shoulder, or has an arm draped over his chest, he seems to be reluctant to move her.

Ivan Kaminsky has night terrors, the kind that wake him screaming and thrashing and completely disoriented, trapped in his own blankets - the legacy of the front lines at the Fjerdan border over a century ago. As a younger man, fresh off the front lines with nothing to his name but a medical discharge from active duty, he'd often find himself seeking out General Kirigan, stumbling into his tent or the Little Palace war room pale and shivering and still in his sleep clothes, all terribly undignified. Kirigan never seemed to mind, really. It was an understanding of sorts, between old soldiers familiar with the lingering spectre of war. He'd give Ivan a cursory once-over - "Evening, Kaminsky." - pour him a drink, and push a stack of papers across the table to give him something to do. He misses it, sometimes, the long nights spent working in companionable quiet. But now the General spends his nights with the sun summoner and the puppy king who's been making eyes at him since he was a skinny princeling, and Ivan spends his with his Fedyor, who has a truly remarkable amount of patience for being woken up at all hours by all the flailing and yelling. Ivan still hates talking about his night terrors - Fedyor is too young to have ever fought in the campaigns that got Ivan his discharge papers, and Ivan is reluctant to place extra horrors on his shoulders - but Fedya would listen, if Ivan needed him to, and in the meantime, he'll regulate Ivan's heart rate and breathing for him, deactivate the fear centre of his brain and flood him with signals telling his brain he's close to sleep, until he really is.

Inej Ghafa likes to sleep in Kaz's office. Back when he first bought out her indenture and took her from the Menagerie, that was where she felt safest. Only one door, locked firmly behind him whenever he ventured down to the rowdy Club below, where the raised voices of drunken men made her feel sick with terror. Two windows, left open at her fearful request - exits, if she needed them. A comfortable leather couch. The scratch-scratch-scratch of Kaz's quill on paper. Jesper used to try to reassure her - no harm will come to you at the Crow Club, you're Kaz's - and a small, wounded part of her took that to heart. If her connection to Kaz Brekker kept her safe, this man who showed more interest in her blades than her body, then she would rest where he could see her, where that protection would be a physical, tangible thing. And he let her. Never complained, though she knows now what he's like about his privacy. Just let her curl up on his Chesterfield. Draped a blanket over her when it was cold.

She's not that terrified girl anymore. She has her own lodgings, with her own possessions, though she still has a nighttime ritual for safety - one final sweep of the building, checking her escape routes, jamming a chair beneath her door handle. But she's quite capable of protecting herself now. All the same, when she is injured or sick or has been summoned back to the Menagerie on business, she'll still climb through his window, breathe out a sigh of relief at the inevitable, unsurprised, "Hello, Inej," and make herself comfortable on the couch for the night.

Wylan Hendriks sleeps curled into a ball. He's spent his share of time on the streets of Ketterdam and that's how he's learned to do it - hugging his meagre bagful of possessions, threadbare blanket wrapped around him and it. In Jesper's room at the Crow Club, he likes to burrow under the blankets; he'll rest his head on Jesper's belly to sleep rather than his shoulder, so even his hair is covered. It muffles the sound drifting up from the club floor or the street outside in the evenings - the shouting, the drunken arguments and bitter insults tossed around like knives, anything that might remind him of - anyway. He tends to turn in fairly early compared to the other Crows - while he loves the music of the city's bars and even enjoys the camaraderie of watching Jesper gamble, closing time in most of Ketterdam peaks at around midnight, and that's about when all the socialising starts to get a bit much for him. The Barrel stays open late, and Kaz doesn't kick out his patrons until the early hours of the morning, so most of the Crows have become night owls by necessity. Wylan uses the hours between making his exit and Jesper finally coming to bed to decompress - compose, play his flute, experiment with chemicals, look at the books Jesper got him, the ones with all the pictures to tell him the fairytales. After a few incidents where Jesper bursting in drunk and noisy left Wylan...a little out of sorts...he's learned to knock, the same pattern every time, before he lets himself in, and it's always easier to uncurl a little and relax with Jesper holding him.

#sab headcanons #darklina #nikolina #darkolai #darknikolina #kanej #wesper #idk what the genya/david ship tag is #aleksander kirigan #nikolai lantsov #alina starkov #mal oretsev #fivan #ivan kaminsky #fedyor kaminsky #genya safin #david kostyk #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #wylan hendriks #i have not read the books #but hoo boy do i have Feelings about the show #sab