#and on genya in her red kefta

[pyreshe]

gotta draw livvys grishaverse verse,,

#she is the Cutest #shes her own classification like genya; red kefta with flame embroidery. they call her a blood boiler #she likes wearing matching ribbons in her hair 🥺

[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

[lilisouless]

Zoya: the theater group that was supposed to come for the anniversary of the end of the Ravka war cancelled, i promised a play!

Nikolai: don't worry, i got this

---

Zoya: remind me never blindly trust an "i got this"

Nikolai: why? they are making a good job on the effects, and they will do anything for money

Alina: shhh! my big moment is comming!

Jesper with a long white wig: But my beloved Mole-

Wylan whispering: Mal-

Jesper: There has to be another way!

Wylan shirtless and with a six pack painted on his belly with a marker: There is no other way, Alina. Its your fate and dying for you its mine, as said by the cool and not at all awful tattoo of mine

Mal: I wasn't shirtless when i died

Alina: in my mind you were

Jesper: i can't do it!

Wylan: you must!

Jesper: okay! (fakes stabbing Wylan who fakes a collapse) oh Mal, Rakva will honor your braveness, and i will always remember how much i love your abs...and personality and all that shit

Alina snifs: its like they were just there

---

Zoya: so..why did she choose that role?

Nikolai: she said it she wanted a loud range of emotions

Nina with a big fake black kefta: Join me, Alina Starkov! join me to the shadow side , HAHAHAHA!

Zoya: at least practicing her evil laugther actually paid up

Jesper: Never! you just will just steal my power!

Nina stomping her foot; but why won't you give it to me?! why-won't you give it to me!

Mal: and...now "the darkling" is crying like a baby...at least they got that right

Nina: You need me! you need the shadow!

Jesper: no...this is..BONE! (fakes stabs Nina)

Nina: noooo! i am dyiiing....nooo, why didn't i bring a blade proof kefta, nooo

Nina fake coughing: Alina...please...do something for me...

Jesper fake crying while an onion slips from his fake kefta: yes?

Nina: "cough" tell...Zoya...to give that little grisha, Nina Zenik (the cutest one) all the waffles she wants (fakes a collapse)

Jesper: now its my time to die too, Tamar. Tolya, bring me my boytoy

Mal: excuse me? "man toy" please

Kuwei enter the scenario while dragging Wylan around

Tolya: is he supposed to be me or you?

Tamar: he has an undercut, so probably me-

Kuwei: Sankta Alina, we can cure you! I can cure you with my axe!

Kuwei turning around,showing a sidetail on the other side of his face: this makes me want to do some poetry

Tamar: oh, he is both of us, like the detail that the arm playing me is more muscular

Tolya: its literally not-

Jesper: no...i´ll die, my job here is done

Kuwei as Tolya : but my saint! you can't leave us!

Kuwei turning around as Tamar: Ravka is still a mess

Jesper: And thats your problem now, so long suckers! (fakes to die over Wylan´s body as Kuwei cries)

---

Inej with a fake blue kefta: i hope all of you know how lucky you are to be on my pressence

Zoya: this whole play is awful, all our portrayals are so one note and exagerated, we are not like that on real life. My eyes are too good for this sight

Inej : A triple funeral, a country with no money (flips her hair) my eyes are too good for this sight

Zoya: everyone shut up

Matthias with a cardboard crown: Oh yes, and i am the king now, i was hidden to treat my injuries completely unrelated to demonic possesion and (looks up at cue cards) improbable...i am a pearl...something , something...charming

Nikolai: who let him play me?

Kaz with a cheap red wig and a patch before the big curtain falls : and i...was ruination

Zoya: always the need to have the last word

Genya clapping: as "she" should

#shitpost #grishaverse shitpost #to clear possible confussion the crows are all in the play #everyone else is in the audience looking #shadow and bone shitpost #netflix shadow and bone #six of crows #leigh bardugo #crooked kingdom #grishaverse #sab shitpost #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #kaz brekker #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #nina zenik #inej ghafa

[hottpinkpenguin]

Why are you looking at me like that?" "I like to look at beautiful things

With Darkling?

The Most Beautiful Thing - Darkling X Fem!Reader

A/n: thank you for your patience anon! hope you love it :) Word Count: 2368 Warnings: none (not proofread)

“Genya, you cannot be serious.”

She smirked at your reflection in the mirror, a look of mock offense on her face.

“Y/n, whatever do you mean?” 

She stifled a laugh as she continued pinning up your hair, plunging a few more pins into your hair. Her levity made your mood more sour and resentful.

“I’m glad you’re having fun with this,” you spat back petulantly. “I am not wearing this.”

You gestured down at the emerald green gown that Genya had procured for the occasion. It was a beautiful piece of handiwork, no argument there, but on you? It looked preposterous. You’d never seen this much of your own skin before, and the thought of wearing this in front of Ravka’s nobility made your stomach turn. The neckline was low - dangerously low, you thought, as you tried to pull the watery-smooth silk higher up on your chest to cover more of your decolletage. The side slit running up your leg was so high it felt immodest. With a well-placed breeze or a misstep on the dance floor, you worried that all of Ravkan royalty would get a healthy look at your backside. 

“Oh, stop being so dramatic,” Genya chided you as she pulled out a strategic curl of hair from your hairline. “You look stunning and you know it. You’re just fishing for compliments.”

You shook your head earnestly and too violently for her tastes. She playfully smacked you on the shoulder, barking the command “hold still!” as she continued to fuss over your hair. 

“Genya, I am as serious as the day is long,” you murmured. She raised a skeptical eyebrow at you in the mirror as she twined another sprig of baby’s breath into the hair at the crown of your head. “This dress is something for the Queen, but me? Gods, what will people think?”

“They will think that you have an exquisite eye for fashion,” Genya replied smartly, her voice taking on a more serious tone. She was getting irritated, you realized, and maybe rightfully so. She had made the dress herself, after all. When you’d told her that Ivan, arguably the second-highest rank Grisha general in the Second Army, had invited you to the Ravkan Court’s Winter Ball, she had practically fainted with excitement. You, for your part, had been less than keen on the event. Your ridiculous appearance was confirming your worst fears true: you would be laughed at. Ivan, Zoya, Fedyor. Even Alina at this rate. You had no business in these fine silks and lavish stones. The closest you’d ever come to finery before was the red kefta you’d received as a Heartrender when you’d enlisted in the Second Army three years prior. 

“Y/n, look at me.” Genya grabbed the seat of your stool and swung you around, away from the mirror where you were chewing on your lip and staring at your own reflection. You hardly recognized yourself. The ridiculous worry that Ivan - your oldest friend - wouldn’t recognize you whipped across your mind like a strong breeze.

Genya grabbed either side of your cheeks, forcing you to meet her eyes. She was already dressed for the event, having devoted most of the afternoon to preening and fussing over you. Her gown was a soft, sunrise-pink with delicate lace layers that seemed to melt into her skin at the sleeves and hem. She had a small cluster of baby blue delphinium blossoms tucked above one of her ears, and her red hair was long and loose around her shoulders. She looked glorious - a picture of the gentleness of spring amidst a harsh Ravkan winter. Her beauty only sank you further into despair. Next to her, you looked gaudy. 

“You look incredible,” she said pointedly and firmly. “You feel ridiculous, but that is not the same thing as looking ridiculous.” 

Against your better judgment, you considered her point. It made sense, you decided, and you felt a bit of that fearful tension in your chest loosen. You took a shaky breath in, feeling the chain of coral and moonstone gems around your neck rise and fall with your inhales and exhales.

“Tonight is about allowing ourselves to enjoy what being a Grisha in the Second Army has to offer,” she continued, letting go of either side of your face. Her hands interlaced with yours in your lap. “Tonight is about fun.”

You continued to steady your breathing, slowly allowing yourself to realize how ridiculous you were acting. You’d gone into battles before, for God’s sake. You’d stopped the hearts of your enemies and restarted those of your friends. You’d trained and bled and almost died for Ravka dozens of times. And here you were, cowering in your dressing room, because you had to wear a dress? 

“I suppose you’re right,” you replied after a moment. Your voice quavered slightly, but you were beginning to feel yourself relax. As always, Genya proved herself to be the tonic that you needed.

“Good,” she concluded, rising from her chair with a chipper smile. “Now that I’ve saved you from your own self-consciousness, can we head to the throne room? We’re already late.” 

You glanced at the window outside, noticing that the horizon was turning from burgundy to a dark, plum-wine color. It was much later than you’d realized. Rising from the stool on shaky legs, you let Genya whisk you out of your chambers. The cool evening breeze running over your legs - an undeniable reminder of that precariously high slit - threatened to undo what little composure you’d managed to recover. You did your best to press the concern from your mind and followed along behind Genya. She practically danced down the candlelit guest corridor of the Royal Palace. You could hear the distant sound of a crowded party: an indistinct murmur of voices, clinking glass, and somewhere beneath that the delicate melody of a violin trio playing a jaunty waltz.

“Genya! There you are! We’ve been waiting!” David raised a hand in greeting, a broad smile breaking across his usually somber face. Genya playfully huffed as she skipped the last few steps, her fingers locking with his outreached hand. 

“It takes quite a while to prepare oneself for events like these, you know,” she replied cheekily to David. He smiled indulgently at her before nodding courteously in your direction. 

“Y/n, Ivan asked me to tell you to wait here. He forgot something in his quarters. He won’t be but a moment.” 

Your heart skipped a beat in your chest as you realized what David was asking. He wanted you to wait here, alone?

“Well, perhaps I can go in with you and we can all rendezvous with Ivan when he gets back?” you countered, falling into step at Genya’s shoulder.

“No, nonsense!” she protested, placing a firm hand on your elbow and halting your momentum. “Stay here for Ivan, it won’t be long. It’s not proper to enter these kinds of events without your companion,” she told you insistently. Before you could argue, her and David had swept off, leaving you alone at the top of the staircase. In the hall below, you could see the shadows of incoming partygoers as they meandered towards the sounds of the ball, which were considerably louder now. A warm, inviting light from the direction of the throne room beckoned the attendees in, and delicious aromas wafted up to meet you. 

Feeling put out and out-of-place, you leaned back against the banister of the stairway, silently urging Ivan to hurry up as you lost sight of David and Genya in the crowd. You were truly alone now, nothing but you, your jewels, and the risque green gown. You fidgeted with a strand of hair that Genya had expertly teased out to frame your face, trying to remember what she had said to you that had eased your worries back in your dressing chambers. Looking out of place isn’t the same thing as feeling out of place… or was it the other way around? Just because you feel something doesn't mean you don’t look it? 

You were tripping over your own thoughts, anxiety and frustration increasing by the moment, when suddenly you had the spine-tingling awareness that you weren’t alone anymore.

You turned to find a tall, imposing figure standing a few feet behind you. Your heart jumped into your chest and you practically toppled down the stairs in your rush to salute the man in front of you. 

General Kirigan seemed to materialize out of the darkness as if he were made of shadow himself. His black kefta was gleaming in the candlelight, along with his coal-dark eyes. He was taller than you’d expected, and devastatingly handsome. His expression was unreadable with the faintest smile playing across his lips, his posture straight and regal. You’d only seen him from great distances, never this close before. And up close, he was every inch the legend that you and so many other Grisha revered. He oozed an easy restraint, the kind of genteel manner that sets true leaders and royalty apart from the rest, but beneath that veneer of control was the vibrating frequency of raw power. It both terrified and thrilled you.

“General Kirigan, sir, I didn’t see you there.” You stammered and saluted clumsily, the motion feeling laughably mismatched with your attire. His eyes glimmered with amusement as he bowed gallantly. 

“Y/n, I believe, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice smooth and dark like running water. You couldn’t hide your shock to hear him call you by name.

“It is, yes sir,” you replied with surprise as a deep flush painted your cheeks. The General’s eyes flickered over you with a glint of satisfaction that you were certain you imagined. 

“Ivan speaks very highly of you,” he continued with ease. He spoke as if talking to someone he’d known for years, with a confidence and fluidity that had always eluded you. 

Uncertain of how best to respond, you merely nodded, swallowing thickly. You were beginning to feel uneasy under his gaze. It was probing and unflinching, not lecherous but not entirely proper either. The flame in your cheeks grew hotter as you dropped your eyes, studying the plush red carpet runner on the marble staircase.

“I see you’ve chosen green tonight,” General Kirigan commented, gesturing at your gown. The abruptness with which he addressed your attire made you wish you could vaporize on the spot. It confirmed your worst fears: you looked so ridiculous that the Black General felt the need to point it out.

Unable to meet his eyes, you only nodded again, self-consciously smoothing the emerald silk against the sides of your hips. 

“It suits you.” 

The wind felt sucked out of your chest. You looked up at the General with a dumbfounded expression. His smile broadened, the first genuine and unrestrained expression you’d seen on him yet. Your mind went completely blank as his singular attention intoxicated you. Your mouth opened and closed futilely, your cheeks no longer ablaze with embarrassment but with a different, more primal heat. The sensation was unwelcome, especially in front of the highest commanding officer of the Second Army, but it couldn’t be helped. You tried to steady your fidgeting hands by looping one across your stomach to hold the inside of your opposite elbow, then playing idly with the coral and moonstones of your necklace, but nothing helped. All the while, the General’s eyes danced across your face, not quite searching, not quite settling. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you blurted out recklessly after a few more moments under his scrutiny. He smirked, running a hand through his midnight-black hair and chuckling as if you’d said something funny. The dimming candle glow in the staircase caught the angles of his face in a mesmerizing dance of light and shadow. Your heart pirouetted in your chest, suddenly acutely aware of how beautiful he was, and how very close he was.

“I like looking at beautiful things,” he commented casually. It took you a heartbeat before you caught his meaning. He stepped towards you, so close that you felt the teasing breeze of his breath fluttering the strands of your hair that framed your face. He found your hand in an easy motion and raised your knuckles to his lips, holding your eyes with a smoldering gaze. He pressed a firm kiss the smooth skin on the back of your hand, sending goosebumps rippling up your arm and shivering all the way down your spine. 

“And you are the most beautiful thing,” he murmured with a final sweeping and appreciative gaze up one side of you and down the other. 

He dropped your hand gently and turned away from you, descending the stairs towards the sound of the party. You let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, leaning back against the staircase railing to balance yourself on suddenly unsteady legs. Your eyes followed him, your heart beating wildly in your chest as your still-blank mind tried to fumble through the interaction. He half-turned back in your direction and hesitated at the bottom of the stairs. 

Your legs were moving before your mind knew what was happening. You wer halfway down the stairs before you understood that he was waiting for you and that you were walking to him. A distant part of your mind reminded you that you were supposed to be waiting for Ivan.

You swatted that thought away with a half-smile as you imagined Ivan’s reaction to seeing you at the party on the General’s arm. You’d never hear the end of it. 

It’s worth it, you decided as the General held out an arm for you, sparkles in his eyes. Your arm threaded around his with a well-practiced movement that felt as natural as breathing. 

“Y/n,” General Kirigan murmured with a satisfied smile in your direction. 

“General,” you replied, shooting him a sly half-smile. 

“Shall we, then?” he asked politely, inclining his head in the direction of the ball. You nodded happily, allowing him to lead you down the hall and into the brighter lit of the crowded ballroom, all fears and worries evaporated from your mind…

#shadow and bone requests #darkling imagine #darkling fanfiction #darkling shadow and bone #the darkling #darkling #general kirigan #general kirigan imagine #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova imagine #aleksander morozova #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone

[stromuprisahat]

I keep insisting that while a lovely idea, appointment of the Grisha triumvirate is more of a joke and recipe for disaster, than a political step forward.

Today, I’m going to question Genya’s part specifically.

At the beginning, Genya’s introduced as a unique talent with predispositions to work of both Corporanik and Materialnik. She chooses her kefta’s colours herself- blue on red (which still doesn’t make sense, since blue is established as Summoners’ colour- literally the only Order she DOESN’T belong to). At the end ot the trilogy, Alina picks her as a representative of all Corporalki.

The obvious favouritism aside, ignoring lack of experience in leadership, I’m asking- what does Genya know about her Order itself?

Due to the nature of her assignment, she spent most of her life away from Little Palace. While she would understand the inner workings of the Grand Palace, Second Army and the woes of its people isn’t something she’d be closely familiar with. She even admits there’s a distance between her and other Grisha.

More pressingly- what does she know about the work of her Order? I’d like to assume she got some sort of basic training, but she doesn’t seem to know about anything more advanced. Although she could’ve lied (or withhold), according to her tour in Shadow and Bone, she’s never even been inside Corporalki worshops (while she’s spending a lot of her free time with Materialki).

“We’re on the other side of the Corporalki anatomy rooms.”

“Don’t they need light to … do their work?”

“Skylights,” she said. “In the roof, like the library dome. They prefer it that way. It keeps them and their secrets safe.”

“But what do they do in there?” I asked, not entirely sure I wanted to hear the answer.

“Only the Corporalki know. But there are rumors that they’ve been working with the Fabrikators on new … experiments.”

How can she represent people she isn’t particularly close to, and whose work she knows virtually nothing about?!

#Grishaverse #grishanalyticritical #Genya Safin #Grisha triumvirate #The Righteous Gang™ #Second Army #Corporalki #S&B Chapter 8 #V #books #quotes #Leigh Bardugo #anti Leigh Bardugo #If Alina wanted to get Genya a position in government #she should've been either spymaster #or a diplomat. #If she were to represent Grisha Order #it should've been Fabricators.

[thebadgerclan]

After

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x reader

Summary: After the Civil War, you carry on...

A/N: So based on something Jessie said during the red carpet premier, I’m 99% certain that Aleksander’s going to die this season, so here’s this

 I also cried while writing the dream sequence in this

General Nazyalensky hated you.  She never said it, but you knew why: you had been Kirigan’s wife, the object of his affections, the owner of his heart.  And when the war had ended with your husband’s death, you had been pardoned.  It had been Aleksander’s dying wish that you go on, that you keep fighting for your people, and you would do just that.  If not for yourself, then for your Aleksander.  You still remembered the first few days after the war, they were imprinted in your mind:

You were seated before the new King’s hastily assembled council, still in your bloody, singed, torn kefta.  There was blood and dirt on your face, your hair was a mess, tear tracks cutting through the grime in your cheeks.  “Y/N Morozova,” King Nikolai said, standing with his hands planted on the table.  “As it is, you have been charged with high treason.  We both know what the punishment for that is.”  You did: death.  “However, the Grisha are fractured, and I’m feeling merciful.  So,” the King unfolded a piece of paper and slid it across the table to you.  

It was a pardon, a royal decree: By order of His Most Royal Majesty, King Nikolai Lantsov, Grand Duke of Udova, Ruler of the Double Eagle Throne, Y/N Morozova is hereby pardoned from all crimes and offenses committed during the Ravkan Civil War.  In exchange for this leniency, Vdova Morozova will take all reasonable efforts to bring the rogue Grisha to the Crown, as well as serve on His Majesty’s council as the advisor to the Grisha.  Vdova Morozova, by accepting this pardon, swears loyalty and fealty to His Majesty, King Nikolai and all of his descendants and serve on their councils.

“You’re not going to kill me?” you’d asked, still in shock from everything that had happened.  The King had sighed, pinching his brow.  “As it turns out, you’re useful to us.  And if Nazyalensky is going to be leading the Second Army with Genya and David, I’ll need an advisor.  So no, I’m not going to kill you.”  So here you were, almost 3 years later, an advisor to the Crown, alive, but not quite free.

Your pardon had been expertly worded: you would live for centuries thanks to the power your husband had gifted you, and King Nikolai had ensured your loyalty to he and his descendants.  You’d succeeded in bringing Aleksander’s Grisha back to the Crown, something that did nothing to endear General Nazyalensky to you any further.  They were traitors, she said, they deserved to die.  But you, according to the Squaller, deserved to die more above anyone else.  But you were under the King’s protection, thanks to your pardon, so there was nothing she could do but simmer in her hatred.

The General found you in the Royal Chapel, knelt at the altar, a strand of prayer beads in your hands.  “I never took you for a pious woman,” she sneered, crossing her arms.  You were silent for several minutes, crossing yourself as you rose.  “I’m not.  But if my husband is to be worshiped as a Saint, then I will pray to him.”  You straightened the skirts of your black silk gown, both your husband’s color as well as the color of mourning, the color you’d worn every day since your husband’s death.

Zoya stepped closer to you.  “So when that cult shows up at the gates, you’ll throw yourself into their arms?  You’ll raise an army against the crown and commit treason once again?”  You straightened yourself up, forcing yourself to be composed.  “My loyalty is to King Nikolai and no one else.  I can pray to a Saint and not follow the crazed followers of His cult.”  “You say that now, but if those zealots show up, I guarantee you’ll be running to them, Vdova Morozova.”  The use of your title, widow, was intentional, a reminder of what you’d lost, and it stung, even after all these years

“I would watch yourself, General,” you said.  “I could very easily advise His Majesty to remove you from the Triumvirate.  There are plenty of Etheralki who would be honored to take your place.  Now, is there a reason you interrupted my prayer?”  Zoya bristled, but nodded.  “King Nikolai wishes to see you.”  “Of course,” you replied, sweeping from the chapel without meeting her gaze.

“Moi tsar,” you said, curtseying when you entered the council chambers.  “You called for me?”  “Indeed.  You’re a difficult woman to track down, Y/N.  We searched half the Palace for you.”  “I was in the chapel,” you replied, seating yourself at the table.  “What can I do for you?”  The King needed your council on how to implement the new training regimen for graduates of the Grisha school, which you handled with little difficulty.

When you were dismissed, you returned to your chambers, richly appointed chambers in the guest wing of the Grand Palace.  There were two guards posted outside your door at all times, as much for your safety as they were there to ensure you didn’t try anything.  But what would you try, anyway?  You were a widow who ought to have been executed; instead, you were living in luxury, a seat on the King’s council.  You were far more fortunate than you deserved to be.

As you dressed for bed, your eyes landed on the portrait from your wedding; you and Aleksander, wrapped in each other’s arms as you danced, eyes only for each other.  Your heart ached, as it always did, and you climbed into bed, curling into yourself.  Nights were the best part of your day; when you could slip into dreams and see your husband again.  Maybe it was your subconscious giving you a shred of joy, maybe it was tour Sasha visiting you from the afterlife, you didn’t care, so long as you saw his beloved face.  

You were in your rooms in the Little Palace, in your old bed, the black silk sheets cool against your naked body.  The sun shone through the drapes, and you turned your face into your pillow.  A strong arm wrapped around your middle and pulled you backwards into a warm chest.  “Shh, go back to sleep, milaya.”  Tears pricked in your eyes and you turned over, facing your darling husband.

“Aleksander,” you whispered, and he smiled, kissing your forehead.  “My love, my beautiful, beautiful bride.”  Tears fell, and Aleksander wiped them away.  “Don’t cry, sweet love,” he soothed, kissing your forehead again.  “I miss you so much,” you cried, pressing your face into his chest.  “Sasha, I miss you.”  “I’m right here, sweetheart.  Right here.”  You sniffled, and your husband held you tighter.

“But you’re not,” you said quietly.  “You’re gone and I’m still here.  Without you.  I miss you so much, Aleksander, I miss you so much it hurts.”  “Oh darling,” your husband cooed, gently coaxing your face from his chest.  “I know.  I miss you too, Y/N.  But I’m still with you.  Every day, I’m right there with you.  You don’t see me, but I’m there.”  Your body shuddered as you sobbed, and Aleksander held you, gently stroking your hair, kissing your forehead, telling you how much he loved you.

“You have to wake up now, sweetheart.”  “I don’t want to,” you whispered.  “I don’t want to leave you.”  “I told you, darling, I’m always with you.”  He kissed you then, long and sweet, as reluctant as you were to let you go.

When your eyes opened, you were back in the Grand Palace, your cheeks wet with tears.  You managed to drag yourself from bed and prepare for the day, scrubbing your face and pulling on another of your plain black gowns.  As you made your way to the King’s council chambers, you noticed a shadow in the corner twist, and as you continued, you saw it trailing along the baseboard.  Tears pricked at your eyes, but they were happy tears, knowing that your Aleksander was still with you.  Even though you couldn’t see him, he was at your side, and so long as he was there, you could carry on.

#aleksander morozova x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction #the darkling x reader #general kirigan x reader #shadow and bone reader insert

[amsgrey]

Smitten

Zoya Nazyalensky x Fem!Grisha!Reader

I am such a Zoya simp I love her so much. I wrote this in like an hour, so it's not that good but I just needed to write for my queen.

Synopsis: You return to the little Palace after the Civil War. You find you aren't the only one who came back for Ravka.

Warnings: not at all proofread or edited, some spoilers for sab s2 obvi, show!Zoya bc I haven't read the king of scars duology yet, kind of ooc Zoya bc I'm trying to learn how to get her right, reader and Zoya being smitten and Genya making fun of them, not really any good plot lol.

You had come to the little palace when you were 8, your father bringing you from your village at the border with Frejda. He worried that the Frejdan raids would get you killed, especially after he realized you were Grisha. The day he said goodbye to you was the last day you saw him, leaving you in the big world with no family. That quickly changed when you became friends with another Grisha your age, a squaller with strong powers and an even stronger will.

You two grew up together, getting closer and closer. You even went on missions together in The Wandering Isle. That changed when General Kirigan found the Sun summoner and Ravka became unstable. You had been stationed in Kerch, working to recruit Grisha and free Grisha slaves. After news of the Darkling's attack, you stayed and found a place to live hiding away from the Civil War that raged back home. You only returned after Tsar Nikolai's coronation, bringing Grisha you freed in Kerch.

Walking into the Little Palace after years away, you felt a strange feeling of wistfulness. You used to love walking the grounds of the little palace, often with Zoya or Nina, enjoying the nativity of childhood.

Standing on the steps leading into the Little Palace was Genya Saffin, neatly dressed in a pale gold Kefta. Once, she would be in a bright Red kefta to show her station as Corparlki, but now every Grisha wore the same Gold Kefta. Gold being the colour of the Ravkan Crown. She looked radiant, but you always thought that.

"Y/N," Genya greeted as you approached, "It's nice to see you again."

You smiled, reaching out and pulling her into a hug, "I've missed you."

Genya grinned, standing beside you as you looked out over the grounds. Grisha and Otkazat'sya were lounging in the autumn sun, enjoying a peaceful afternoon.

Genya told you to follow her, leading you up the stairs and into the palace. She ran you over the current operation, how Alina had set out to make friendships with Shu-Han and Nikolai was trying to win the war against Frejda.

"Zoya is in charge of training," Genya said, watching your face change at the mention of your best friend, "She's in a meeting with Nikolai and some of his Generals."

You nodded, "She always did say she would be the leader one day."

Genya couldn't help the smile that crept on her face as she heard your heart rate spike and watched a blush creep up your cheeks as she stared at you.

"Come," Genya insisted, leading you back down the stairs and towards the Palace. There were hardly any guards around the grounds, they used to patrol every inch of the palace grounds, but now they only did on the fences. Genya lead you into the Palace, through the winding halls and towards what you assumed must be the meeting room. You had never actually been in the main palace, it was an honour reserved for The Darkling's favourite Grisha and the servants of the crown.

Genya didn't have to knock on the doors, the two guards opened it for her without a second thought.

The room was occupied by a massive mahogany table, with enough chairs for every General in the Ravkan army. Only two people were sitting at the table, though. Tsar Nikolai and Zoya Nazyalensky.

You and Genya both curtsied, "Moi Tsar."

"Y/N?" Zoya was on her feet quickly, she rushed to you and pulled you into a tight hug. You savoured it, Zoya wasn't really one for hugs.

She pulled away and held you at arm's length, "You cut your hair."

You laughed, flicking her hair, "So did you. I like it." Zoya tried to hide the blush on her cheeks from Genya, you were blissfully unaware.

Nikolai stood from his seat at the head of the table, "Y/N L/N?" He walked over to the three of you, "I've heard a lot about you."

You looked between Zoya and the King, "Good things, I hope?"

Zoya rolled her eyes at your pointed stare. Nikolai looked between the two of you, and then to Genya to confirm what he was thinking. Genya was just smiling at the two of you being hopeless.

"Only good things," Nikolai answered, nudging Zoya playfully. In the last few weeks the two had become good friends, now Nikolai could see how smitten the squaller was.

You settled in quickly, the little palace always was and always could be your home. You quickly slipped into a routine, helping fellow Grisha with their training and even teaching Otkazat'sya how the small science worked. Zoya had valued your advice greatly, often letting you consult on decisions about your own powers.

Today, you both had cleared the afternoon to spend time together, having a picnic by the lake like you did when you were children.

Genya had been teasing Zoya about it for days, giggling at how the girl grew red in the face at the mention of you and her. Zoya had been dropping hints for a while, even before you parted ways before the Civil war. There was always something more between you.

You were laying on the grass in the sun, listening to Zoya rattle off what had happened during her morning.

You hummed once she finished, "Sounds..."

You searched for the right word. 'Exciting."

"Tiring," Zoya offered at the same time.

You laughed, turning your head to look at her. The sun cast her in a glow, framing her like a saint. To you, she might as well have been. You were always amazed by Zoya, her power, her mind... her beauty.

Zoya looked down at you, thinking similar things. Your hair was splayed underneath you, framing you in a kind of halo. You could have been her sun in your golden Kefta - which Zoya was convinced was your colour. Glowing up at her with a smile that warmed every part of her.

"Saints," Zoya mumbled, realizing how head over heels she was.

You blinked up at her, "What?"

Zoya felt her ears burning, she was not the fumbling blushing lover. She knew what she wanted and went for it.

You reached out for her hand, clasping it tightly, 'Somethings off with you."

Zoya scoffed, "You're imagining things."

You laughed, sitting up and moving a little closer.

"I think I'm seeing things very clearly."

"Oh? And what is it you see, Koshka?"

You giggled at the old nickname, one she had given you when you were both 12.

"You are as quiet as a cat, Y/N."

It gave you the same warm feeling now as it did then.

"I see a lot," You said defensively, watching Zoya quirk an eyebrow at you.

"I see the way Genya nudges you," You said, watching Zoya's face, "I see the way your ears get red when I compliment you and your brilliant mind."

"They do not," Zoya argued.

"They are right now!" You laughed, grabbing her face in your hands and tucking her hair behind her ears. "I love it when they do."

Zoya rolled her eyes, pretending to look irritated at you.

"I see the way you act all tough and intimidating," You continued, "The toll it takes on you."

It was true, the whole time you had known Zoya she was this way. In some ways, she needed to be. But you missed how gentle she was as a child and her love for Ravka.

"I see how hard you're working for our Grisha."

Zoya melted a little bit at the 'our Grisha'.

"And," You continued, grabbing both her hands again, "I see just how much your work is helping."

Zoya sighed softly, "Slowly."

"Slowly," You agreed, "but surely."

You both fell silent, you watched her face as she gazed over the lake.

"I think I needed to hear that," She said quietly.

"Can't be having our fearless leader forget how fantastic she is."

Zoya turned to you suddenly, eyes flickering between your eyes and lips. With a sudden surge of confidence, she reached out, cupping your cheek in one hand and pressing her lips to yours. You kissed back almost immediately, your heart exploding in your chest. Your best friend, your Zoya, was finally kissing you.

When you both broke away, Zoya's face lit up in a grin.

You hummed a soft response, trying to show how you felt the same way. That made her smile even bigger. Her hand was still sitting gently on your cheek. You leaned into her hand, relishing the moment. You gently took her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm.

"Saints," You sounded breathy and Zoya leant in a little more, pressing her forehead to yours, "I love you."

#zoya nazyalensky #zoya nazyalensky x reader #zoya nazyalensky fanfiction #zoya supremacy #zoya x reader #zoya the dragon queen of ravka #shadow and bone s2 #shadow and bone s2 x reader #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone #shadow and bone s2 spoilers #shadow and bone netflix #sab #sab s2 spoilers #nikolai lantsov #genya safin #grisha reader #grishaverse

[marvelmusing]

In Another Life

The New Year

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Reader

Summary: It’s New Years Eve, and the first time you’re celebrating with Aleksander as your husband.

Warnings: suggestion of sexual content.

A/N: Happy new year!!

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist

Pulling your kefta tighter around your body, you shiver lightly in the chilly winter air as you make your way over the grass towards the huddle of fabrikators working on assembling the fireworks for tonight’s festivities.

Amongst them you spot a flash of black and you move towards your husband. With the wars over, Grisha were free to push the boundaries of their power and skill, meaning that this New Year’s Eve celebration would be one for the history books.

Aleksander’s brows are furrowed as he listens to David’s explanations, and he nods along with the durast’s words. Genya appears beside her husband, a flash of red in your eye line, from both her hair and her kefta.

She had been talking to you yesterday about the colour pigments she was picking for the firework display, and you know that with David’s help the two of them would create a truly memorable display.

In the months following the end of the war, there had been an increase in weddings as soldiers returned to their sweethearts and families were reunited.

David and Genya had been married not long after you and Aleksander. Their ceremony had been a small yet beautiful affair in the chapel at the Little Palace.

A few fabrikators bow lightly as you walk by them, and you smile softly at them, giving nods of acknowledgment to the more familiar faces. The smile on your face widens when you catch Aleksander’s eye.

As he finishes his conversation with David and Genya, Aleksander approaches you.

“Hello, my love.”

“How are we faring?” You look around at the markings set up for the position of the fireworks.

“Everything is on track at the moment.”

You nod.

“Good.”

“How is everything inside?”

A grimace touches at your features as you think over the preparations you were supposed to be overseeing. The decorations were a disaster, and the menu had been changed twice already.

“Apparently my flower choices aren’t appreciated.” You remark. “Why do you think I’ve come to retrieve you?”

Aleksander breathes out a small chuckle, before he feigns a hurt expression.

“And I thought you were here because you missed me.”

You laugh softly.

“Of course I did, Sasha.” Leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek, you then add, “But I also need some back-up.”

Aleksander links his arm with yours, and the two of you make your way back to the warmth of the Little Palace.

»»---------------------►

With Aleksander’s help, you manage to organise the party to perfection.

It’s more understated than the Winter Fete, or even the Christmas celebrations, but still filled with food and friends.

As the evening approaches, you and Aleksander retreat to his study, knowing that the windows will allow you a view over the grounds where the fireworks have been set up.

“In my world, we have a tradition for the new year.” You say as you settle onto the sofa by the fireplace.

He tilts his head aside in curiosity as he stands by the small table, pouring the two of you a drink.

“What is it?”

“You’re supposed to share a kiss with someone at midnight. I think it’s meant to strengthen the connection between you both, and ensure that it lasts through the next year.”

Aleksander holds a glass out towards you, which you accept, and he sits down by your side, his warm thigh pressed against yours.

“We had a similar tradition which was popular a few centuries ago.” Aleksander drapes his arm over the back of the sofa, his fingers tracing over your shoulder. “If a couple shared a kiss at midnight they would be blessed by Sankta Maradi.”

Together, you and Aleksander typically spend most evenings reading to one another. He had read The Lives of Saints to you one evening, and you could now recall the majority of the saints and their titles now.

“The saint of impossible love.”

He nods as you sip on your drink.

“If the couple receives her blessing, then supposedly nothing could ever keep them apart.”

“Did it work?”

His brows crease lightly as he tilts his head, thinking intently.

“Perhaps.” You frown at his response. “I’ve never partaken in the tradition.”

“Oh.”

A soft smile tugs at the corner of Aleksander’s lips as he looks over at you, before he takes a drink with a small hum.

“Perhaps this year I will.”

Glancing over at the timepiece placed on the mantel above the fireplace you read the position of the hands. The fireworks will be starting soon.

Finishing his drink, Aleksander holds out a hand for you, which you take, discarding your glass. Together you cross over the room towards the window seat which overlooks the grounds.

Opening up one of the windows, you can hear a few Grisha gathered on the front steps of the Little Palace. The cool winter breeze brushes over your cheeks, and your eyes flutter closed as you breathe it in.

Pale moonlight touches your features as you turn to look at your husband, who you find is already staring at you with adoration in his dark eyes.

His fingers are curled around yours, placed in his lap, and he brings them to his lips to press a delicate kiss to your knuckles.

When he drops your hand, you squeeze his knee between your fingers, shuffling closer towards him.

Below, you hear people counting down from ten as the new year approaches. There’s a sparkle in your husband’s eyes, and you smile as Aleksander reaches over, cupping your face, and you lean closer to him.

His fingers trace along your jawline, holding your chin in place as his lips finally press against yours. On the ground, people cheer, wishing one another a happy new year.

Gripping the front of Aleksander’s kefta, you tug him closer, sliding your hand into his hair. He hums softly when you squeeze the back of his neck.

“Happy new year, moi Sashenka.” You breathe the words softly against his lips, and your husband smiles widely at your words, tilting your face back for him for further the kiss.

“Happy new year, my dearest love.” His voice is tender as he brushes his nose against yours. “One of many more, with you by my side.”

You nod in agreement.

“Many, many more.”

The corner of Aleksander’s lips quirk, and mischief fills his eyes as he kisses you again, sucking lightly on your lower lip before he nips it between his teeth.

In response you breathe out his name in a sigh, tightening your grip on his hair which pulls a quiet groan from his throat.

He pulls you closer, no doubt intending to draw you into his arms so that he can whisk you away to the bedroom.

“Shall we begin to celebrate the new year, my love?”

»»---------------------►

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

In Another Life Tag List: @parabatai-winchester @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @jambolska-grozdova @mxacegrey @budugu @cynthianokamaria @scarlettqueen190 @eloquentree @sharp-cheekbones-locked @sorrow-and-bliss @biblophilefox82 @tartiflvtte @rainbowgoblinfan @savagejane1 @sande5098

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 au #shadow and bone #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader

[femaledaily]

Genya + her red kefta

SHADOW AND BONE (2021 - ) S01E07 · The Unsea

#kate #~ #shadow and bone #shows #tvedit #uservalentina #userhella #userace #userjessica #userelio #userannalise #usershreyu #usermars #userrainbow #sabedit #grishaedit #useryoshi #userrobin #netflixedit #shadowandboneedit

[mistiell]

Strange Love Pt. 4

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Fem! Healer! Reader

Summary: Aleksander has a kefta made especially for you for the upcoming fete. When you visit him later that evening, you find out he hasn't been entirely honest with you.

Warnings: There's one non-canon character named Ania that makes an appearance in order to move the plot along lmao

A/n: Soooo, I designed my own header!! Is that what it’s called? A header? Either way, the symbol in the middle is what I imagine Aleksander’s symbol to look like.

Word Count: 2.9k

Part 3 < current > Part 5

Slowly slipping out of a pleasant dream, a knocking penetrates the haze of sleep clouding your brain. It’s been two weeks since your foiled escape attempt, and you’re finding it harder and harder to want to leave. Your relationship with Aleksander is… confusing at best, but you can’t ignore the warmth that blooms in your chest everytime you see him. Sometimes, you think back on the night he told you his name and wonder whether you two could really be something, but the more pessimistic voice in the back of your head is always quick to squash that hope. 

The knocking persists and you groan, calling out a rather annoyed, “Coming!” As you toss the covers off your body. When you open it, you’re met with a familiar face.

“Good morning!” Fedyor smiles and you smile back despite the lingering sleepiness.

“Morning, Fedyor.” You yawn, rubbing at your eyes. You hear him chuckle.

“Sleep well?” You only hum in response, “Late night?” You huff a small laugh and nod.

“Do you need me for something?” 

“Oh! Yes, actually. The General sent me to fetch you for Genya.” You perk up at the mention of Aleksander and a knowing smile spreads across his face.

“He did?” You should be asking who Genya is, but it’s early and you can only focus on one thing at a time right now, “Did he say why?”

“He said she has something for you.”

“Oh.” You wonder what it could be, “Um, not to be rude, but who exactly is Genya?”

“You haven’t met her yet?” You shake your head, “She’s the queen’s tailor. I’m sure you’ll love her.”

You nod, “I’m sure I will. Could you wait here for a moment? I still have to get dressed.”

“Right, sorry!” He chuckles, watching you close the door.

You dress quickly and soon enough, Fedyor is leading you through the halls of the palace. You recognize the hallway you turn down as something of a guest wing, each door leading to a different lavish bedroom. For a moment, you think perhaps he may have taken a wrong turn. Until he opens one of the doors to reveal a woman with fiery red hair stood next to a bed, a red kefta laid out on the quilt in front of her.

“You must be Y/n.” She smiles, holding her hand out to you, “I’m Genya.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” You smile back, shaking her hand, “If I’m being completely honest, I’m not entirely sure why I’m here.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to. I suspect General Kirigan wanted this to be a surprise.” She smiles, stepping away from the bed and gesturing to the kefta. 

You glance once more at her before stepping closer to inspect the garment. It’s the same red as the one you’re wearing now, black and grey embroidery swirling along the seams to represent both your healing and heartrendering abilities. 

The big difference is the collar. What’s usually supposed to be a darker red is black, tufts of dark fur poking out along the edge from the lining. The buttons and the edges of the outer layer match it, the fabric shiny and almost satin-like . 

“He had it custom made for you for the fete.” Genya states, watching you run your fingertips over the fabric.

“Is this allowed? I thought he was the only one allowed to wear black.” You open one side to find the entire thing is lined with soft black fur, just as you thought. Running a hand over the inside, you spot a symbol embroidered in silver thread. It’s small and a couple tiny tufts of fur obscure little parts of it, but you manage to catch it. You brush back a few hairs to properly look at it and when you do, your breath catches in your chest.

A moon in eclipse. Right over where your heart will be.

You notice that the thread work isn’t as precise as the rest of the embroidery. It’s still beautiful and very well done, but the edges are the tiniest bit uneven and there’s a couple of almost unnoticeable gaps in some of the thinner lines where the needle didn’t quite meet the last backstitch. This was hand embroidered.

“Typically, he is, but no one dares question him on a good day. Let alone over the colour of a kefta.” She laughs, “I almost did when he asked to have it before giving it to you, but he seemed very serious about whatever it was he was doing.”

Could he have—? No, there’s no way.

“How long did he have it for?” You ask, flipping the coat closed to prevent either of them from seeing the symbol. For some reason, it feels like a secret that’s meant to be kept between you and Aleksander.

“Five days? Give or take?” Fedyor replies and you both turn to look at him, “What? I saw it on his desk five days after you gave it to him and the next, it was gone.”

“On his desk?” Genya asks, expression muddled with confusion.

Meanwhile, you’ve checked out of the conversation completely. He had it for five days. On his desk. 

Aleksander hand embroidered his symbol into a kefta made specifically for you.

Perhaps your relationship isn’t as confusing as you thought.

“You said this is for the fete?” Genya nods.

“Yes, it is.” She sees you eying it and fiddling with the hem, “Would you like to try it on?”

“If you don’t mind, yes.” You smile bashfully.

“We’ll leave you to it.” She smiles back, leading fedyor out of the room.

You’re quick to strip yourself of your current kefta, draping it over the side of the bed before slipping into your new one. The fur is soft against your neck and keeps you pleasantly warm. Making your way over to the mirror, you admire the look of it again as you do up the buttons. You do a little spin, craning your neck to catch a glimpse of the back.

“You look lovely.” You yelp whipping around to face an amused Aleksander. He chuckles softly, “I apologise, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s alright.” You titter, hand press over your racing heart, “Um, thank you. It’s beautiful.”

You turn back to the mirror to admire the kefta again, oblivious to the fact that his gaze hasn’t left you, “It’s gorgeous.”

Watching him come to stand behind you in the reflection of the mirror, you smile shyly, looking down at your hands as you pick at the edges of your cuffs, “I noticed your addition.”

“My addition?” You look up to find he almost looks surprised.

“The eclipse on the inside.” He huffs a bashful laugh and you can hear his heart thud a little faster in his chest, “You’re talented with a needle.”

“You like it?” He asks, 

You nod, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye, “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were attempting to court me.”

“Do you?” He asks, smile matching your energy.

“Do I what?” Carefully, hesitantly, he  takes your wrist and turns you around to face him.

“Know better?” His gaze bores into yours and for a moment, you forget how to breathe.

“I thought I did.” You whisper, searching his eyes for any sign that he isn’t being serious, that this is a trick. You don’t find one. In fact, with the way he’s looking at you, one might think he’d mistaken you for a living saint, “Perhaps I was wrong.”

“Or perhaps,” His gaze flicks down to your lips, hand slowly sliding up your arm to tentatively ghost the pads of his fingers over the side of your neck, “I haven’t been clear.”

“Clear about what?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, and you wonder if he can feel your breath fanning over his face like you can his.

“My feelings for you.” His hand is cradling your cheek now, lips mere millimetres from yours. Gripping the lapels of his kefta, you let your eyes fall shut halfway, the pounding of both your hearts a dull but prominent sound in your ears. He nudges your nose with his ever so gently, his next words coming out as a soft but earnest request, “Can I?”

“Please.” You breathe and he smiles, closing the short distance to slot your bottom lip between his. 

The kiss is languid, gentle, tongues ebbing and flowing like the tides of the sea. There’s a slight but pleasant tingle that starts at your lips before spreading throughout your body, only amplifying your desire to be closer, to feel him. Sliding your arms up and over his shoulders, you lace your fingers in the hair at the base of his neck and tug him closer. He hums a low, gravelly sound that comes from the back of his throat and pulls you flush against him by your waist. Sighing into his mouth, you barely get the chance to suck in a breath before his lips are back on yours, devouring you with fervour, a far cry from what the kiss was just moments before. 

He consumes you, overwhelms your every sense. He’s all you can feel, lips molding against yours, palms firm against your waist. He’s all you can hear, breathing heavy, heart thudding in tandem with your own. Saints, you can even sense the blood rushing through his veins. At this moment, you swear you’re the only two people in the palace, the only two people in the world. 

When he pulls back, you chase him, eyes still closed when he rests his forehead against yours, “You have no idea how long I’ve wished to do that.”

“Considering the fact that I can hear your heartbeat every time I enter a room, I think I do.” He laughs at that and you can’t help but giggle along with him. 

He steals a few more quick pecks before someone knocks on the door. When he calls a quick, “Come in” and turns to address Ivan, you move to pull away. Only you’re stopped by his hand on your waist, holding you at his side.

“Moi soverenyi.” Ivan bows low before righting himself, looking serious as always, “You’re needed in the war room.”

“Thank you, Ivan. I’ll be there in a moment.” Ivan nods, glancing once at you before promptly exiting, closing the door behind him.

He turns back to you, pulling you to him by your hips and meeting your lips briefly, “I’ll see you tonight,” You steal a kiss this time and he smiles, laughing into it, short puffs of air brushing against your skin, “As usual?”

“As usual.” You grin, and he kisses you once more before making his way over to the door.

He’s halfway there when he turns around and rushes back to you, cradling your face between his palms and stealing the breath from your lungs again. He seems reluctant to let you go, but eventually the responsible part of his brain forces him to pull away, finally leaving to follow Ivan.

<————>

Hours pass and the sun sets, the dining hall lit up by the lights above. You’re currently sitting with Fedyor and a girl named Nadia. Despite her being a fair few years younger than you, she’s been nothing but kind and cordial, going out of her way to talk to you when virtually no one else would. 

You’re picking at your plate of food when you’re approached by a girl who looks around Nadia’s age. She’s accompanied by a couple others, and they’re giggling amongst themselves when she speaks up, “Hi, I’m Ania.”

“Erm, hello.” You feel rather awkward and a little suspicious at her tone, giddy and peppy in a way that reminds you of a few girls that used to tease you when you were young. Still, you try to be friendly, offering them a small, albeit tense smile, “I’m Y/n. Can I help—?”

“Is it true that the general had a Kefta made especially for you?” She blurts, interrupting you. 

“Oh, erm…” Your face flushes and you glance sidelong at Fedyor, and he looks back at you with just as much confusion. If there’s one thing you’ve learned in your months of being here, it’s that people really like to gossip. You aren’t entirely sure how it spread through the grapevine so quickly, but you have a feeling it started somewhere along the chain of people who were tasked with making the garment for you. You figure there’s no harm in telling the truth. They’ll find out soon enough anyways, “Yes, he did.”

Before the girl has a chance to respond, there’s a screech of wood against tile adjacent to you that startles the life out of you. When you turn you catch a glimpse of a rather peeved looking Zoya storming out of the dining hall. That can’t be good.

“I wonder what her problem is.” Ania scoffs before turning back to you, “Sorry for bothering you like this. We heard a rumour and we just had to know if it was true.”

“Oh, that’s alright.” You smile, waving a rather perplexed wave when they bid you a very rushed goodbye. You turn back to your friends and laugh a little despite yourself, “That was… odd.”

“It’s not out of the ordinary for Ania. She and her friends are a little too friendly sometimes.” Nadia explains, stabbing a vegetable with her fork and nibbling at it, “Gets them into trouble from time to time, but they mean well.”

You hum, returning to your own food.

You finish rather quickly, eager to make your way to the war room for the evening. When you get there, Aleksander is where he usually is, hunched over his desk looking serious as ever. He doesn’t notice you until you move the chair over to his desk.

“Y/n.” His gaze softens immediately and the warmth that blooms in your chest makes you want to scream, “You’re early. Did you not eat?”

There’s a very subtle crease between his brows as you smile at him, “I did, don’t worry. I was just eager to get some work done.”

“Were you?” Amusement sparkles in his eyes as he sees through your half assed lie. 

You hum and sit down, plucking your pen from the desk. He notices you worrying your lip and frowns.

“Something’s plaguing you.”

Looking up at him, you huff out something between a sigh and a laugh, “Am I that transparent?”

“No,” You quirk a brow at him, and he chuckles, “You bite at your bottom lip when you’re thinking.”

“Oh.”

 He hums, gaze roaming your face.

“I’m just… I’ve been thinking.”

“About?” “You said if I didn’t agree to become an oprichnik, I’d be tried for treason.” You start and he nods slowly, “I just…How did you get the king to agree to that? I’ve never met him, but I know he isn’t exactly known for his generosity.”

There’s a flash of something in his eyes before he leans back in his chair with a subtle sigh, gaze averted and hand rubbing at his mouth before meeting his other to twirl his ring. A sick, sinking feeling settles in your gut and your voice comes out quiet, “Aleksander?”

He meets your eyes, and you realise that what you saw flash behind them a moment before was guilt, “I didn’t.”

You swallow hard, sitting up straight in your chair, “What do you mean you didn’t?”

“When he asked if we’d found the person responsible for the safe house, I told him we’d found a powerful heartrender living on the edge of Duva.” He explains, watching your expression morph into one of confusion and anger, “And that I’d like to make her an Oprichnik.” “You lied to me?” There’s a sharp pang of something in your chest that makes your body flush with a flare of vexation.

“It wasn’t a lie,” He says cautiously, “It was a half truth. A half truth that spared your life.”

Frustration flares in your chest, both because you’d been deceived and the fact that he’s right. If he’d told the full truth, you would have been dead months ago. He says your name carefully and places his hand out palm up on the desk, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lied to you.”

“You’re right. You shouldn’t have.” Your words are sharper than you intended and he sighs. You know he’s being genuine. If he were lying again, his heart rate would give him away, something you’re actively focusing on now considering it slipped past you the first time. Whether he lied to you or not, he saved your life, and you suppose it would be unfair of you to condemn him completely. With a sigh, you take his outstretched hand, meeting his gaze, “Don’t do it again.”

He lets out a small breath and smiles, squeezing your hand, “I’d never dream of it, milaya.”

“Pet names? Is this your attempt at winning me over again?” You tease and he laughs, a bright and relieved sound that bubbles up from his throat.

“Perhaps.” He grins boyishly at you and leans in a little closer, “Is it working?”

“Perhaps.” You echo, closing the distance between you to meet his lips in a slow and tentative kiss.

A/N: Oh my god, I am so sorry! I forgot to tag people lmao

It should be fixed now. If anyone else wants to be added, again, just let me know in the replies :)

< -------- >

Strange Love Taglist:

@watersquirtpewpewboomm @sorrow-and-bliss @sande5098 @rachlovesactors @trinity-dose-stuff @maggie-da-rat @budugu

#aleksander morozova #aleksander x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling #aleksander morozova x you #aleksander morozova x y/n #the darkling x y/n #the darkling x you #the darkling x reader

[filmmarvel]

My Favorite Season 1 Shadow and Bone Costumes

The Darkling's Full Getup, Fur and All- This one is just so dramatic, and perfect for the Darkling. Plus Ben Barnes looks great in it.

Alina's Nightgown- This one is so underrated! It's so elegant, perfectly capturing the luxury of the palace. It also looks super comfortable, in addition to being so gorgeous.

Alina's Episode 5 Event Kefta- Of course I had to include this one. It's mostly black, with a bit of gold, symbolizing Alina and the Darkling's partnership with him in control.

Alina's Finale Dress- In the finale, Alina wears this gorgeous black and gold dress while imprisoned by the Darkling. Contrary to the color scheme in her Episode 5 kefta, this one is mostly gold. She may be imprisoned, but The Darkling's influence on her has faded.

Genya's Kefta- The standard keftas are so lovely and detailed that I had to include at least one, and I love Genya's, the cream color is very refined.

Red Corporalki Kefta- Aside from Genya's cream colored kefta, the red of the Healers and Heartrenders are my other favorite. I did get Corporalki on the Netflix quiz, so I guess that checks out.

Kaz's Episode 1 Suit- This suit is just textbook Kaz Brekker. He looks great, and it's a perfect introduction to his character.

I want to highlight one Season 2 costume in this post, the final photo:

Kaz and Inej’s costumes- Kaz's vest and Inej's shirt have the patterns, making them go together perfectly. I love the way these costumes symbolize their partnership and unity while setting their characters apart.

Everyone say thank you to the amazing Shadow and Bone costume designer Wendy Partridge! She killed it, and it looks like she's outdone herself with Season 2.

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone show #shadow and bone costumes #six of crows #shadow and bone season 2 #the darkling #aleksander morozova #ben barnes #alina starkov #genya safin #corporalki #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #kanej #costume design #costume department #wendy partridge

[unrequitedloveletter]

The Fire That Burns Within- N.L x fem! reader Chapter One

Masterlist

Okay! this is the second part! I’m going to upload a chapter a day until this series is done with and the uploads will be a little random but should typically come out between 4:15 and 7:30 AST! I also have a playlist of songs I’m listening to while writing if anyone is interested in that, and thank you so much for the love on the prologue!! I’ve never written a Nikolai fic this long or with this many chapters, so I was a bit nervous and I’m really grateful that it was well recieved

Fic type- angst with a bit of fluff at the start

Warnings- mentions of what the king did to Genya, an allusion to the readers trauma, mentions/allusions to death

Genyas face split into a grin the moment she saw you. You took a moment to register her scars and the eye patch she wore, felt pity that she would hate you for register within. 

The minute the boat touched solid ground and a ladder was placed to help people get out of the boat, you were leaving. You climbed down the ladder and ran at your best friend, a happy laugh falling from your lips as you hugged her for the first time in what felt like ages.

She was laughing, too, and you were both laughing, and then you were thanking the saints, only to see Alina Starkov in your periphery.

“You’re not an ally of the Darkling, are you?” She asked as Genya let you go. “Not one of his spies?”

“She’s just arrived, Alina,” Genya said. “Allow her a day to rest before you start throwing out accusations.”

“I would be skeptical too, Genya. She’s fine,” you said, arm wrapping around Genyas waist as hers wrapped around yours. “And, though I doubt you’ll believe me, no. I am not one of his allies. I will never be an ally to him ever again. Not after everything that’s happened since the expansion of the Fold.” Not after everything he let happen to Genya, to me, to all those under his care. Not after all of the people he let die without blinking, you thought. 

“You were one of his allies before?”

“Before I learned the truth, I may very well have been. Weren’t we all?” 

“You make a valid point,” Alina said with a nod. “Well, I’ll let Genya show you to your accommodations. I would recommend the stairs, but the lift is a good alternative if you’re okay with a bit of a bumpy way up or if you’re tired.” 

You let Genya lead you off, some part of you wanting to find Zoya and spar for a bit like you used to. 

You needed a good, long nap after the whirlwind that was the experience of feeling the boat begin to fly and the sensation of oddness you’d felt when it kept up until you were at the Spinning Wheel. 

You needed a good, long cry. You needed a moment or several moments to process everything you’d gone through since the Fold was expanded, but you knew that moments to process things were a luxury, and they were likely a luxury ill afforded in the depths of the safe haven that had been carved from the side of a mountain. 

Your room in the Spinning Wheel was simple. A bed in one corner, a chest for clothes and other belongings beside it. A kefta had been hung on the wall, and the sight of it nearly made you sob. 

“I still have my other one,” you said. “From–from before–”

“It has black threading,” Genya said. “To denote your status as one of the Darklings charges. David and I found one while Alina was with the Apparat in the church–which is a whole other thing to explain–and when we left, we had to go through caves. There was a cave with red rubies. David took a few, extracted the pigment from them and put it in the threads of that one. He also took a bit of blue from a kefta that didn’t fit one of the Grisha on Sturmhonds crew. It was a fabrikators kefta before, and this one is meant for Spring, but David has gold that he can use to change the black on the kefta you brought with you.”

“For an alliance to the Sun Summoner,” you said. 

“Yes,” Genya nodded. “And to be rid of the Darkling after all he’s done.”

You grinned. “I cannot wait to be rid of him, then.”

Genya grinned back at you. “I’ll take the other kefta to David.”

Silence passed over you. Genya bit at a perfect nail before finally speaking up when a few moments had passed you both by.

“There are–there are rumors,” she said. “Of the presence of the King and Queen. I haven’t seen them yet.” 

“I have a flint. If I see her, I can burn the Queen alive?”

Genya laughed. “No,” she said. “You and your fire, Y/N. I’d let you if I weren’t so afraid that either of the Lantsovs would kill you for it. The King is weakened but his son? Rather charming, and rather spry.” 

“Vasily? He’s never–” you paused, searching for the right words. “I’ve never thought Vasily to be charming. I’ve thought him to be as much of a knobhead as his fath–Genya, dear, have you taken ill?” 

She laughed again. “No, not him,” she said. “Sobachka. Baghra used to call him–”

“The puppy prince, right?” You said. “I remember now. I fear what he’ll be like when he’s crowned.” 

Fear was an understatement, really. You didn’t want him to be crowned at all. If his fathers mistakes were of any indication of the kind of king he’d be, you might never have returned to Ravka again. You would’ve gone to Ketterdam, perhaps, maybe Novyi Zem, where the Grisha were considered the blessed. 

You would’ve found somewhere to live that was not the country you held dear. You would’ve forsaken the kefta you wore for the rest of your days if it meant you never had to hear a word of any Lantsov ever again after all you’d dealt with. 

“He’s good,” Genya said, knowing her reassurance would not stop your fear-driven hatred. She was putting her best foot forward anyway, trying her damndest though she knew it wouldn’t be worth much in the long run of things. “You can trust him, I think.”

“The ‘I think’ adage does not make me more confident,” you said. Genya nodded.

“Thats fair. I’ll leave you to it, come grab you for dinner in a few hours. Sleep, or think through everything. or just exist,” she said. “Do what you must, and try on the kefta. David and I think it’ll have a baggier fit, but it’ll work just as well. I’ll see to it that David can grab your other kefta from the ship and you’ll have it again by the time we’ve eaten, wrought in golden thread rather than obsidian.”

“I fear what it will be like if I have to face him again,” you said. “To be perfectly candor, I do not think I can manage it. Even thinking of the Darkling sets me on edge, thinking of the embroidery on my kefta–what if I am not strong enough to face this?”

“You are,” Genya said as she turned to go. “You survived the Darkling and his monsters, Y/N. You escaped them. Once you survive that, I think you become capable of surviving anything, even one of the Lantsov kings.” 

You watched Genya leave without saying anything more, took the kefta off it’s hook and pulled your arms through the sleeves. It was a size or two too big, but you didn’t much mind it. David would fix the threads in your other kefta and the other kefta wouldn’t be relevant until spring, when the weather lightened up and there was no need for a heavy kefta unless you went into battle. 

You took the kefta off, put it back onto it’s hook. You grabbed your flint, summoned a flame that glinted off of candles to your fingertips, and grinned. You had not summoned in weeks. You’d missed the comfort, the surety it brought you, and it turned out that you had missed it desperately. 

You let go of the flint and watched the flickering flames dissipate, climbing into your bed as you felt the aches in your joints and muscles return. Despite Genyas statements about Nikolai Lantsov, she was right. You were still tired and sleep was still necessary. You drifted off again, knew that you probably wouldn’t wake up until the following day, but decided you didn’t care. Sleep mattered more to you in that moment. 

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

*Shadow and bone season 2 spoiler warning!!!*

It’s time to talk about the costumes in season 2. I did not think that it was possible to top what the costume department pulled of in season one but damn if they didn’t outdo themselves!!!!

Miracles were performed.

First of all, the Kefta redesigns for the Darkling’s grisha were absolutely brilliant. The costumes featured mostly the same colour choices to represent each order, but in darker tones and with different styles of embroidery to their Little Palace counterparts. This is a physical representation of their allegiance to the Darkling, creating a clear divide between his grisha and those loyal to Alina, but I think it could possibly also represent the fact that their power has been warped by an amplifier from someone born of merzost, since it means they no longer fit in with the other grisha. This could possibly even be foreshadowing the way Nina feels that she can no longer fit in with other grisha after her power is changed by parem, since she believes her new abilities to be closer to merzost than the small science. The new costuming for the Darkling’s grisha also includes a tattoo on their hands, and although I don’t want to talk about it in too much detail here because I’m planning a post with specific focus on that tattoo, I did want to mention it as a very interesting aspect of their appearances that once again separates them from the other grisha. The Darkling’s own Kefta has also been redesigned, I don’t have anything to say about it that hasn’t already been talked about by Ben Barnes and Jessie Mei Li in interviews and the costume department tour video, but basically they said that the gold detailing represents the tether and the way the Darkling and Alina now share some of each other’s powers and I absolutely love that detail!

What’s interesting about Genya’s costume is that she never gets a redesigned Kefta when she’s still with the Darkling, but returns to the red and blue she wore at the end of season one. This represents her allegiance not fully lying with the Darkling, or by this point not at all, but it’s also the Kefta she was wearing when Alina felt she had betrayed her; creating a painful and permanent reminder to the audience of the way Genya has been manipulated and abused even through the control of her friends so that she had no-one left to trust, or who she believes will trust her. No-one except David, who also never wears a redesigned Kefta. One of my favourite things about Genya’s costuming, however, was that they put her in her civilian clothes when she was attacked by the Darkling and the nichevo’ya. This was incredibly powerful, because it highlighted her complete lack of power: in this scene she was not a soldier, she was not a member of the Second Army or any kind of rebellion, she was not even a Tailor. In this scene she was just a girl who had been hurt, manipulated, and abused, and who had run out of places to hide. For me, it made this moment even more painful and even more powerful because it was her renouncing what she said to Alina - “I am his soldier” - and forcing the audience to witness her pain as exactly what Alina replied: “We are his pawns. Nothing more”.

The only thing I would change about Genya’s costuming, is that I would have given her a veil after the attack. For me reading the book, Genya’s veil became a brilliantly important symbol as a physical manifestation of her psychological progress. When she eventually sheds the veil, it is because she feels that she is safe to do so and it’s Alina that helps her come to that conclusion. Both seasons have proven to us that the costume department are FANTASTIC at bringing symbols and little details to life, and I think they could have had an absolute field day with this.

The only other thing about costumes written in my notes is “whoever gave Jesper a skirt deserves a raise, but could they have given him a skirt that went with the rest of the suit a bit better?” but honestly I’m rewatching right now and the combo of that suit and that skirt is growing on me.

…Sorry for yet another massively long post. I’m very excited.

#grishaverse #leigh bardugo #six of crows #crooked kingdom #jesper fahey #kaz brekker #nina zenik #wylan van eck #inej ghafa #kanej #shadow and bone s2 #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone season 2 #shadow and bone #genya safin #genya x david #genya and david #david kostyk #genyalina #the darkling #darkling #ben barnes #jessie mei li #daisy head #costumes #costume department #costume #netflix

[spideysirens]

"I am not ruined. I am ruination" ~ Genya Safin

I'm reading Rule of Wolves and I felt like drawing how I imagine Genya, I don't really like her red and blue kefta so I wanted to redesign it. I think the golden embroidery is a lot more elegant, and the purple in the borders is a nod to how she's somewhere in between Corporalki and Materialki.

Also I think most interpretations I see of her don't make scars enough on her face imo. Like people were calling her ruined she's supposed to have a face COVERED in scars.

#genya safin #shadow and bone #king of scars #rule of wolves #grishaverse #grisha #kefta #digitalart #booklr #books #art #artist on tumblr

[lilisouless]

Shadow and bone signature colors headcanons, part two

Other characters that i believe have signature colors on the show (remember this are for fun and it’s not a real intelectual argument)

Genya- red ,it’s extremely easy for her to carry it all the time because it’s on her hair. Like with Alina, they took the canon kefta color and rolled with it

“But you said uniforms didn’t count” you are right they don’t, the red is more present than just the kefta

The vest she is wearing when turning against the darkling, when she got the scars and faced the queen didn’t have to have red, she is not in uniform but there are still touches of red, confirming this is her color. The other confirmation you need it’s the ruby, i don’t remember it being a book thing (someone who does tells me) but doesn’t matter because a writer decided Genya’s stone was going to be the most popular red gemstone.

Other very obvious is Nadia, more than a signature blue is clearly her favorite color. She is wearing it when not on uniform and when on it, she has it in her sash or her jewelry. I remember Nadia on the book having a light blue nightgown as a bonus. The collar breaks the lighter blue part of the theory but i think is still worth it when comparing it to Adrik who doesn’t feature it on his kefta

Of this next one i am way less sure because

1- it breaks everything i just said about uniforms and individuality since we are talking about the Lantsov´s already stablished colors

2- a lot of the iluminaiton may as well be only the show´s aestetic and ligthing

But. lets pretend i am smart and get with gold/yellow (ish) tones as Nikolai´s signature, which like Genyam doesn't have to overdress on it because he carries it on his hair

The first time we saw him, there is no yellow or gold in him other than his hair, its because we are not supposed to know who this person is, he is completely hidden.

As Strumhond he only wears some specs of gold but the blue overshadows this, under that one there is another jacket that is green but closer to the yellow spectrum ,in fact the Nikolai reveal takes place by his taking out the blue coat and revealing the golden uniform. The rest of this clothing sports little touches of gold and yellow too. As a bonus, while i couldn't get one of them side by side, compare Alina and him on the same place; his color is way warmer and closer to yellow than her uniform, even if its tecnically supposed to be similar.

Gonna make a part three of this to stop it from being a long post.

#netflix shadow and bone #leigh bardugo #grishaverse #shadow and bone #grishaverse netflix #shadow and bone netflix #sab netflixs #genya safin #daisy head #nadia zhabin #joanna mcgibbon #nikolai lantsov #stumhond #patrick gibson

[stromuprisahat]

i saw your evgeniy post and i totally agree that it wouldnt work out the same at all if genya was male, maybe he would work directly for the king but either way im willing to bet the fandom wouldnt be victimising him to that extent and the character probably would be allowed to stay morally grey instead of being forced to be "good".

as per your comments too: they probably gave ivan a love interest for "representation points" but if the show character was played more accurately to the book and looked more like book ivan people would probably ship him with the darkling a lot more and talk about him having unrequited love or whatever which is fine but certainly cheapens the characters motives.

also i dont think alina would have got on with genya if she was in a red kefta from the start as its like she saw genya in livery as "on the same level as her" as a servant and outsider, its my firm belief that if genya was introduced to alina as corporalki to start with her prejudice would kick in and she wouldnt trust her at all as she seems more prejudice against corporalki than any of the other orders (aside from the darkling)

(What if Genya were Evgeniy)

I don't think the King would require services of Tailor. The Queen remains the obvious choice for that, although there would be issues.

Regarding narrative-treatment... well, my guess is he wouldn't live long. Just look at Ivan- he wasn't easily brainwashed character, so he had to die to prop up brand new Good Guy™. Zhenya wouldn't be re-written into one-dimensional victim, because it would be easier to simply kill him off (preferably in a way emphasizing he picked the wrong side).

Fandom would simply ignore him, because he's a man in Aleksander's service. His backstory, missing sexual abuse "orchestrated" by the Darkling would also lose its appeal to antis. Loss of loved ones or torture just doesn't have the ring to it, when aimed at a man. Hell, if we'd make the King "fond" of teen boys, or came up with another molester, Evgeniy's story would include different variables. Women are easier to woobify, but then again, it could be "fixed" by making the boy gay, or better- headcanon gay. Everyone knows that makes you easier to exploit, so we can pretend lack of agency equals unfavourable circumstances etc. etc.

Since we know almost nothing about book!Ivan's personal life, I didn't mind his and Fedyor's romantic relationship, quite contrary- both actors used their minimal screentime to introduce the best romance in season 1 (in both, if I'm honest).

Ivan's in danger of simplification of his motivations no matter the looks. While book Ivan's described as good-looking, in show he's already canonically MLM. Both can work as a good enough reason to turn his loyalty into unrequired crush. Why delve into anything more complicated, if your view requires demonisation of the Darkling?

Absolutely agree on Genya's position and Alina's "friendship". Alina has been distrustful of other Grisha since the beginning. Sure, her belief she's a fraud played a part, but that would apply to Genya in red too. Grisha without colour didn't fit in. Useless Sun Summoner wouldn't either, once her incompetence becomes widely-known. Alina doesn't exactly believe in selfless unconditional friendship. Hell, she takes and takes from Genya, while offering little, with Malyen she assumes the opposite position.

#reply #Grishaverse #grishanalyticritical #Genya Safin #Ivan Kaminsky #Alina Starkov #What if/AU/... #The Darkling #Heartrender Husbands #self centred and paranoid #antis #anti Malina