#baghra would certainly be up there

[stromuprisahat]

Both show and book Darkling is good, but I think I like the book version a bit more because he's more complicated. What you said is true about the book version. He doesn't want to love Alina, but he ends up catching feelings for her anyway. In book 3, I think his feelings for her become borderline obesession and a twisted version of love. Baghra told him in TDITW that she would destroy a hundred villages if it meant keeping him safe. That's her version of "I love you." I honestly think Sasha is confused by these feelings and just doesn't know how to respond to them

note: Ask was sent before season two came out. (probably the post refered to)

His mother's influence certainly played a part. Another would be his age, all that he's been through and lack of other lasting emotional attachments. His love never had a chance to manifest in some pure, innocent way.

Baghra raised him to have ties to no one but her. While preparing him to survive in any way she could think of, she ironically denied him one of the basic human propensities- he wasn't allowed to naturally socialize. All interaction with "outsiders" were about caution, sizing up and possible gain or loss. He was taught to expect a transaction. Not even his mother's love was unconditional, and I have a feeling he might consider the concept a foolishness.

When you look at the outline of his past, he learnt he'll lose everyone he might grow attached to, and not necessarily to old age. How many times did he have to watch his loved ones murdered, killed by accident or illness, grow distant or outright betray him? No wonder he clings to his mother even once he's aware she's bad for him. No wonder he sort of wants Alina only to himself. Why would she try to abandon him, if he were the only thing she has? He, himself knows the alternative would be being alone and Alina doesn't really want that any more than he does.

Her immortality ensures the likelihood of loosing her to death is as little as it can be, so he's free to deal with other, less violent "risks".

I'm gonna admit I'd be much more sympathetic to Alina's situation, were he not right about harmfulness of her relationship with Malyen and her clinging to her past in general. I'd also say his aversion to Nikolai isn't only about jealousy. That can of worms is deeper than simple "He proposed to my girl!".

#reply #Grishaverse #grishanalyticritical #The Darkling #Alina Starkov #Darklina #Baghra Morozova #Malyen Oretsev #Nikolai Lantsov #anti Baghra #only a little this time. #anti Malina

[marvelmusing]

Keep Your Judgement

Chapter Five

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Reader

Summary: Progress is made with your work regarding the amplifier, and you grow closer to the General.

Warnings: canon level violence (mentions of Grisha persecution, death, and amplifier claiming), minor spoilers for season two.

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist

“You cannot fix everything, child.”

A frown creases at your brows as you work on the rip you had caused in Fruzsi’s kefta during a sparring session of which she insists you had cheated. She hadn’t specified a no knives rule and hiding a blade up your sleeve has become a new habit of yours.

The frown on your face isn’t a result of the kefta, which knits itself back together neatly as you smooth a circular motion over the fabric with your palm. The frown is because the workshop is empty, meaning you are the unlucky target of Baghra’s scorn – something you thought you could live the rest of your life without.

“It’s a kefta, Baghra. I learnt to make these when I was twelve.”

She scoffs.

“I’m not talking about that measly scrap of cloth. I’m talking about your beloved General.”

Fruzsi would certainly be offended by that comment about her kefta and something inside you cringes at the old woman’s sneer at the word ‘beloved’.

Doing your best to ignore Baghra, you trace your fingertip over some of the frayed embroidery, using your power to weave the deep blue tidemaker pattern back into place amongst the glossy silk.

“The merzost is poisoning him, and there is no cure.”

Without looking at her, you muse quietly,

“No cure, yet.”

She hums mockingly, the corner of her mouth lifting into a smirk. Her clothing shifts against metal bars as she leans backwards on her stool.

“A little optimist.”

Rolling your eyes, you glance over at her.

She’s been playing the weak old woman act whenever David or Vladim have been in the workshop, hoping to incite some pity from them. After all, neither of them had been subjected to her lessons, unlike you, they don’t know what she is truly like.

“I know what you’re doing. It won’t work.”

She holds your gaze for a long moment. Baghra certainly isn’t afraid of you, but something makes her fidget with the bandage wrapped around the remaining stub of her finger.

Then she calls out,

“Stop lurking, boy.”

Turning your head, your eyes lock with the General’s as he steps into the workshop. His expression shifts as he looks away from you to glower at Baghra, his voice terse as he speaks,

“Mother.”

Finished with mending Fruzsi’s kefta, you stand up slowly, hoping not to draw attention to yourself. As you pick up your book of folktales, tucking it against your chest as you fold the kefta under your other arm, you feel the weight of the General’s eyes on you.

Giving him a small nod, you move towards the door he had just stepped through.

“I’ll leave you to it,” you say quietly.  

He inclines his head as you walk by him.

At the sound of your name, you turn back with a small frown. For a moment the General doesn’t seem to know what he was going to say to you.

“Any further developments?” he asks, gesturing lightly towards the table beside him where Vladim has curated an extensive collection of ingredients.

The search for the fox amplifier meant that you now spend a lot of time out in the woods, and as a result Vladim’s desk has new additions on a regular basis. Whenever you find a plant that could be useful, you retrieve some leaves or seeds to aid him in his experiments – and hopefully improve the General’s condition. 

“I made some adjustments to Vladim’s tonic,” you tell him, fiddling with the spine of your book. “Added bramble leaves which should help with your throat and the fatigue.”

As you’re speaking, your gaze flickers over his shoulder, landing on Baghra who stares at you with a pointed look that makes you bristle as if you can hear her thoughts.

There is no cure.

Almost instantly, you have a determined response. Not yet. But there will be.

He nods in acknowledgement, his eyes skimming over the cordials and glass bottles perched on Vladim’s desk.

“Thank you.”

There’s a pause between you both, as his gaze flickers over to meet yours and you offer him a small smile. For a moment you think the corner of his mouth moves to return you smile.

As the silence hangs, you step back.

“I should go.”

He nods again before he turns away and you step out of the workshop, making your way down the corridor towards your room to change out of your kefta and into your walking clothes.

»»---------------------►

Dampness hangs in the air, making the horizon hazy with mist as you walk through the trees, boots collecting dew from the grass you trek over quietly. Birds chirp overhead, providing you with some comfort. If the birds are here, then it must be safe.

Walking alone in Ravka is becoming more and more dangerous these days, especially for Grisha. First Army patrols change course regularly in an attempt to find the General. There’s been rumours of Grisha hunters – Ravkan not the Drüskelle – tracking down Grisha that had gone on the run.

The General doesn’t allow many people to leave the Sanctuary and he has increased the number of Grisha patrolling during both day and night to ensure the house is well protected.

Alongside Fruzsi and Fedoyr, you make up the small council that the General keeps, the four of you meet regularly to discuss patrols, rescue missions, and general housekeeping for the Sanctuary.

It feels strange, to have suddenly gained such importance for your people, but despite the pressure you feel, it’s much better than whatever meagre task you might have been doing if you were an ordinary durast.

A snap in the distance has you freezing in place, eyes scouring over your surroundings to seek out any threats. If only you were a corporalki, all you can do is clasp your hands together and search for any nearby metals. But there’s nothing. No armour, no swords or guns, no knives – aside from the one up your sleeve and at your waistband.

Then a flash of red catches your attention.

Hazel eyes lock on yours and the breath stutters in your lungs.

The fox. You’ve found him.

He moves slowly, gaze unwavering as he studies you intently. Halted mid-step, he places his paw down in front of his body, edging his way towards you slowly.

When you had heard that Morozova’s stag existed – a towering white stag with huge antlers – you had expected all amplifiers to be large and majestic. But the fox looks like any other you might find in the woods.

Except his eyes. There’s a cunning edge there that reassures you that this is the fox you’ve been searching for. Power glimmers in each strand of fur, dewy from the raindrops that cling to the tall grasses surrounding him.

Above you, the birds flee, and you immediately look around, hearing voices in the distance. Heart pounding, your gaze whips back to the fox, but he’s already gone.

Right now, your priority is getting back to the Sanctuary safely, without being seen.

»»---------------------►

From that moment onwards, you visit the fox regularly, bringing gifts of berries and dried scraps of meat whenever you can. His bright hazel eyes always watch you intently, a peaceful presence by your side as you sit in the long grass.

The first time you trace your fingers over its thick fur a shiver runs through your body as you feel the fox’s power sing in your bones.

The theory you have is that if you can bond with the fox before claiming its power then it might be easier for you to merge forms. In all honesty, you have no idea how Grisha of the past had managed to execute such a feat.

Perhaps it isn’t even possible. But you have to try. Not only would becoming one with the fox allow you to use the full extent of your power, but it would also give you an advantage over any opponent you might face.  

The General hasn’t asked you about the fox recently, though you often spot him watching you intently as you train, finding new ways to use your power to fight. Maybe the fox’s power lingers inside you, even when you return to the Sanctuary, because your power seems to flow within you better than ever.

Perhaps it isn’t about you claiming the fox, maybe the fox is the one to claim you.

Nevertheless, you find yourself enjoying your days, even with the threat of civil war and the General’s worsening condition dangling over your head.

»»---------------------►

Whilst the tidemaker’s mist keeps the Sanctuary hidden, it also makes the air chilly, and the lingering moisture in the air clings to your kefta as you rub your fingers together in an attempt to produce some warmth.

A peaceful quiet has settled over the grounds, in this moment where sunlight has risen over the mountains but very few people are awake. Soon enough, training will begin, and Grisha will be bustling about as they hone their abilities in preparation for whatever your next move will be.

Confrontations with the First Army have been increasing and you’ve heard rumours of Grisha being executed by firing squad.

The small refuge built here by the General feels more temporary by the day. East Ravka isn’t a large country. It’s only a matter of time before someone finds the Sanctuary.  

Shifting slightly, you attempt to ease the ache that has settled into your legs from sitting on the edge of the low stone wall. Tucked away at the back of the house, your position allows you to see into what was once a small garden.

Now, the rose bushes are overgrown, and the stone plant basins are cracked and crumbling, but watching the rabbits explore the undergrowth provides you some entertainment, drawing your attention away from the book of folktales sitting in your lap.

The sound of wood creaking has you turning your head slightly, as the door behind you opens and the General steps out onto the smooth stone paving that makes up the worn out patio.

The dark circles under his eyes appear more defined this morning, the symptoms of his merzost use must have been keeping him from sleeping. Perhaps you should suggest another cordial, something for him to drink nightly, to ease his symptoms and allow him to sleep somewhat soundly.

The corner of his mouth lifts into a small smile as his eyes meet yours.

“Good morning,” he says softly. “May I join you?”

You nod.

“Of course.”

Bundling up the excess of your cloak, you edge your way closer towards the garden to give the General enough space to sit beside you.  

“I read through your proposal.”

His voice is low, and he doesn’t look at you as he speaks. Looking down at your feet, you trace the toe of your boot through a dewy patch of grass.

“You think I’m insane.”

At the corner of your vision, you see the General shake his head.

“It has been quite some time since I last met someone whose ambition rivals my own.”

For some reason, his words bring a smile to your face. This man has done terrible things, dabbled in forbidden magic that is slowly corrupting his body, stealing his health from him. But the thought of being just a little bit like him makes a warmth settle in your chest.

Less than a year ago, you were an inconsequential little durast, tinkering away in the materialki workshops, making corecloth for the war effort.

Now you’re sitting beside the General, feeling a strange kinship with him.

“You wouldn’t have looked twice at me, back at the Little Palace,” you remark quietly, keeping your gaze away from his.

Two rabbits chase one another in the distance, weaving among the grass and leaves, kicking up dirt as they scurry about. It’s only once the silence has dragged on that you find the courage to look at his face.

His eyes scour over your features, studying you intently as you wonder what he’s thinking. His expression doesn’t change as he says in a low voice,

“Perhaps. But I’m looking at you now.”

»»---------------------►

The woods are quiet today, which unsettles you. Something in the back of your mind is warning you about something, but you continue along the familiar route towards where the fox likes to roam on sunny days like this.

At the sound of horses approaching, your heart hammers in your chest, and without a thought you take off running towards a mound of rocks where you know there’s a small cave.

Skidding as you near the entrance, you practically throw yourself down into the cave, pressing your back against hard rock as you strain your ears for the sound of horses or their riders.

Voices echo in the distant, but you can’t tell if they’re moving towards or away from you.

Clutching your knife in your hand, you attempt to slow your heart down, annoyed by the sound of it rushing through your ears and hindering your awareness of any oncoming threats.

At the sound of movement at the entrance to the cave, you retreat further into the stony depths, hiding in the shadows. The sight of red fur glistens in the low light and a pair of hazel eyes find yours.

Sighing in relief, you allow the knife to slip from your fingers, dropping to the ground as the fox approaches and you extend a hand towards him.

He moves over towards you without hesitation, stopping briefly to duck his head down by your feet before he nuzzles against your legs.

“You know what it’s like to be hunted too,” you muse quietly.  

As you stroke your hand over the white fur at his chest, you realise what’s in his mouth. Your knife. Eyes flickering up to meet his hazel ones, you find an almost determined glimmer amongst the swirling golden browns and blues there.

Leaning back, you settle yourself down onto a chunk of rock, and the fox drops the knife in your lap, nudging your hand with his nose. Slowly, you curl your fingers around the hilt of the knife, eyeing the fox with a small frown.

“You’re sure?” you ask softly.

His eyes don’t waver from yours.

Tightening your grip on the knife, you look down at the blade as it shines in the low light. He licks at your knuckles, almost reassuringly. This is what you had wanted, the opportunity to become more powerful than you ever thought possible.

With your abilities amplified, you could protect more Grisha, perhaps you could even save the General. The theory you’ve been working on, balancing the merzost in his body, will require a powerful durast.

One of the reasons why you had been attempting to master the Cut was so that you could ensure that the fox’s death would be painless, but you hadn’t managed to do much more than a scratch with your power. The knife will have to do.

The creature’s claw should be a suitable material to create the connection between you both, and being a durast means you can fabricate your own amplifier as soon as possible.  

Steadying the knife in your hand, you straighten your shoulders, breathing out a smooth exhale as you press the tip of the blade over the fox’s chest. Power thrums through you as you feel the metal of knife, poised to sink into flesh, the angle you’ve chosen will ensure it is unhampered by the bones that will amplify your abilities.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

The knife sinks downwards.

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire @dhampiravidi

S&B Tag List: @motheroffae

Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk @housekeeperjjswife

BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters

KYJ Tag List: @tartiflvtte @weepingwitchofthewest

»»---------------------►

#keep your judgement au #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova #the darkling x reader #the darkling #the darkling au #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader

[aleksanderscult]

I think i remember leigh writing something along the lines of that 'wanted best for his people and he was a tyrant' etc, basically a nuanced view. Do you have it? I don't remember where it was.

I think you mean this, right?

It's from her acknowledgements on "Demon in the Wood" (graphic novel). If this is not what you mean, tell me.

She always gives a very nuanced characterization about him which makes me mad because I don't understand her point of view for him at all. It only confuses me more.

"I want the readers to make their assumptions about him. I don't want to affect their view of him". Look. If you give your own opinion of him which will consist of ten pages then it's going to be the reader's problem if they want to "adopt" your view or not. Also, your readers are not stupid. They can distinguish their own assumptions FROM your own opinion. And if they can't, then they're not fit to read books and complicated characters. It's called critical thinking. You take an opinion, read it, see if it makes sense with the canon we have from him and make your judgement. Easy peasy.

Now about that note. I agree that Aleksander isn't purely a hero or a villain. He sees himself as the hero while Alina and the others see him as the villain. We, the readers, mostly see him as something in-between and, at the same time, something entirely different. A human that has lived for too long and as a result of his immortality and tragic events he has reached a point of desperation that make him act relentlessly against the corrupt monarchy and in favor of a persecuted group of people and a country that he has lived and loved for almost all of his life.

Therefore, his characterization is (I believe) something more than the archetype of "good hero" and "bad villain".

Is he a survivor? Yup. In all the meaning of the word.

Does he want safety for his people? Isn't that why he didn't give up on life already? It was the ambition that drove him the most and kept his heart beating.

Is he a tyrant? I think that term needs to be studied. Back in Ancient Greece this word had different meanings.

1) A ruler who has usurped a legitimate ruler's sovereignty. The Darkling did that (good for him).

2) A person who rules without law, using extreme and cruel methods against both his own people and others. If Leigh means that then I'll have to disagree. First of all, we didn't see enough of the Darkling's rule to know if he was that cruel (unless she knows something we don't). And even from what we saw, it seems the word doesn't apply to him. He was sitting on the throne and listening to reports, signing paperwork, making an alliance with his enemy to feed his army. So where it the "cruel methods against both his own people and others" came from? He didn't have a beef with otkazat'sya that lived in Ravka and he certainly didn't want to hurt his own Grisha (unless they committed treason). So Leigh just threw that word in like it was nothing.

And, lastly, he brutalizes and exploits those who trust him most.

Brutalizes. Hmm....

Genya: she committed treason so he punished her.

Sergei: he committed treason so he punished him.

Baghra: committed treason so he punished her (and very lightly actually).

Yeah.. right...umm. Look. If he had attacked them or killed them for literally no reason then I would say "Yes, he brutalized them". But there was always a reason for his actions against them. He didn't see Genya on board and said "I'm bored. Gonna ruin your face 'cause I've got nothing else to do".

And he exploits them.

To exploit someone is this:

If my memory serves me correct, his soldiers (his Grisha) knew what they were serving him for. And he didn't use them for something completely selfish like "gaining power for myself because I like it" but he needed power to make Ravka better. So he didn't do it for selfish reasons.

The one instance where the term "exploit" may apply is when he gave Genya to the Grand Palace knowing what a pervert the King was. But then again, wasn't the Queen's responsibility to keep her safe?

#god I've missed analyzing #I need to finish my “Demon in the Wood” meta as well #also it's kinda funny how I have literally every piece of the Darkling's mention from Leigh's interviews etc. #the amount of search I've done for him is crazy lmao #anon asks #the darkling #pro darkling #aleksander morozova #pro aleksander morozova #leigh bardugo #grishaverse #shadow and bone #grishaverse trilogy #genya safin #baghra morozova #sergei beznikov

[ticklishraspberries]

An Accident (Alina/Genya)

Summary: Alina and Genya are more than friends. It leads to late night talks and ticklish discoveries. (For Day #2, "Accidental" of Tickletober!! Very small warning for mentions of hickies. Like, just their presence, not the process of giving them. Still, thought I'd mention it.)

Genya’s touch is gentle, barely there as her fingertips ghost Alina’s skin, attempting to tailor away the purple mark that had been kissed onto her collarbone just a few hours before.

“At least I can always erase the marks I leave,” she jokes.

Alina chuckles, shaking her head fondly. “It’s a very useful talent.”

It still fascinates her to watch other Grisha work, to try and pick up on their methods, their skills. Alina is still learning to use her powers, at a much slower rate than she’d like, but Genya is a master of her craft. Of course, Genya had been forced to learn at an unforgiving pace. She had been taken from her family at a young age and made into a servant, rather than being able to explore her gift freely.

Alina knows she wouldn’t trade the childhood she had away from the Little Palace, even for the greatest power imaginable. So, she doesn’t speak her envy aloud, afraid to bring up bad memories for Genya, the girl who had made her feel so welcome when she’d arrived, who protected her from those with cruel intentions. Who fixed her hair and kissed her skin and shared her knowledge with no expectation in return.

Her eyes are focused on Genya’s hands, pale and dainty, not a scar or blemish in sight. She’s watching closely, but it doesn’t prepare her for the sensation as Genya’s well-kept nails swipe across her neck, making her gasp and pull away.

Genya’s blue eyes widened in surprise. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” she asks.

Heat rises in Alina’s cheeks. “Not at all. It just tickled,” she explains. Normally, she would never admit a weakness so easily. Mal is the only person who knows that she’s ticklish, the only person to ever exploit it. But she trusts Genya, and realizes that it wouldn’t be the worst thing if Genya were to use the knowledge against her.

But Genya only smiles fondly, and tucks some of Alina’s dark hair behind her ear. “Cute,” she says. “I’d explore this further, but you have training to attend, and this bruise hasn't fully faded.”

“I’m sure it could pass for an injury,” Alina replies.

“Everyone here loves to gossip. Even if it were an injury, they’d still be placing bets on who gave it to you,” she says. With a few more fluid motions of her fingers, the hickey is gone.

“There we go. All better.”

Alina smiles. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Though, next time, perhaps I should do that somewhere out of sight, so you can keep it,” Genya practically whispers, grinning. “To remember me by, of course.”

Alina laughs, both flattered and embarrassed. “Perhaps you should,” she replies.

After a long day of training, Alina returns to her room, exhausted and defeated. Time and time again, she’s failed to use her powers unless The Darkling amplifies her. It’s disheartening, and at times, humiliating. While some revere her as a Saint, those who watch her work know she is nothing of the sort.

As she sits, restless in her quarters, she finds that her mind will not settle, and throws on a robe, in search of the one person who listens without judgment, the person who will kiss her worries away.

Genya’s expression softens the moment Alina enters, easily sensing her frustration. She beckons Alina into her arms and hugs her tightly.

“Bad day?” she asks.

“Terrible,” Alina replies. “Baghra is so disappointed in me. Everyone is.”

“I’m not disappointed in you at all,” Genya replies. “I think you’re brilliant.”

Alina scoffs. “Please, you have to say that. You’re my…” she trails off, unsure of what exactly they are. Friends, who sometimes sneak off to do the sorts of things that friends certainly don’t do?

Genya interrupts before she can settle on a word. “I don’t have to say anything. Power doesn’t come to fruition in a day. You’ve had a late start. You’ve spent so long suppressing it, denying it. It’s no wonder it struggles to come out, even now.”

She strokes Alina’s cheek. “Everyone here has struggled with their power. Nadia, me, even The Darkling himself. I believe you will be an incredibly talented, powerful Grisha one day. But for now, you just need practice.”

Alina leans into her touch happily, smiling beneath the praise. “How do you always know what to say?”

“I’ve got brains as well as beauty,” Genya replies easily, and they both laugh.

Alina feels lighter now. Like the weight of her day has been lifted, and she sighs, leaning into Genya’s arms and resting her head upon her shoulder. The comfortable silence is soon interrupted as Genya reaches up to run a single finger down the side of Alina’s neck, making her giggle and scrunch up.

“It wasn’t an accident this time,” the redhead teases, and Alina squeals as Genya finds each sensitive spot along her body, from neck to knee. The encouraging words mixed with familiar, playful affection leaves Alina’s day feeling like more of a success than a failure by the time she heads back to her room, flushed cheeks and a few new bruises, hidden beneath her clothes this time.

#genyalina #shadow and bone #shadow and bone ticklefic #shadow and bone tickle fic #grishaverse tickling #grishaverse tickle fic #grishaverse ticklefic #alina x genya #raspberry writes #augtickletober2023 #tickletober 2023 #tickletober

[thewriterthatghostedyou]

First Christmas Oneshot!

Ok so this may be more of a Drabble, but I still hope you all enjoy it! There are no warnings (well there is cussing, but not much) just holiday fluff!

Enjoy the first of seven short stories!

Darkling x Inferni! Reader

You always loved how the Little Palace looked in the winter. If you were able to draw, you would have tried to capture the way that the snow fell onto the high roofs and the unique icicles that hang from the edge. Every year, the young tide makers and squallors would sneak their way out of their sleeping quarters in order to make ice figurines. This year you chuckled at the large sculpture of a frowning Baghra.

“I think that’s an incredible likeness.” A smooth voice said behind you.

“Don’t let Baghra hear you say that or she’ll hit you with her cane.” You snickered, leaning back into your husband's arms.

“I can take it.” He said with a smile as the two of you continued towards the dining hall.

“How are the preparations for tonight’s feast?” He asked, taking you by the hand and leading you inside the warm castle.

“Good, the goose and roasted lamb will be done in time, as will the rest of the feast.”

Aleksander nodded at that. “Good. The royals need to be impressed when they arrive.”

You grimaced at the mention of the royal family, and the nearby candles flickered aggressively.

“You are going to have to talk to them.” Aleksander said softly.

“No I won’t.” You snapped, walking towards the war room. “If the crown prince’s hands wander again, I’m burning them.”

Aleksander snorted at that. “That would certainly leave an impression; however, we only need to play nice a little longer my love.”

“I guess.” You sighed, thinking of the sun summoner in her room. “The next few months will be quite chaotic.”

“Which is exactly why I set something up for us.” Aleksander smiled as he wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Oh? What is it?” You asked, leaning into his embrace.

“Well it wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you.” He said with a chuckle. “But I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“We aren’t heading there now?” You raised a brow at that.

“It’s not ready yet.” The two of you strode into the war room. “And besides, we have a meeting.”

You groaned at that. “Forgot about that. But you didn’t have to tell me about it so early!” You swatted his arm as you leaned on the table facing him.

He chuckled at that, wrapping both arms around your waist and looking at you with a twinkle in his eyes.

He may have been the fearsome Black General to others, but when it was like this, just you and him, he was your Aleksander.

“I have to give you something to look forward to, my love.” He brushed your hair out of your eyes as the door started to creak open.

“Fine. But my expectations are high.” You teased as the two of you parted.

———————-

The meeting seemed to drag on and on, as you and your husband stared at troop movements and planned for a future trip across the fold. After that, you were immediately whisked away to oversee the decorations in the grand hall.

You were in the middle of staring at a garland of pine leaves, seeing if they looked even, when a servant came over to you. “The general has requested your presence in the kitchens.” She curtsied quickly before scurrying away.

You didn’t recognize her, so she must be from the Grand Palace and probably unused to being around Grisha.

“Feydor.” You turned to face your friend, who was currently “testing” the macarons on the table.

“Yeff?” He said, head snapping up with the sweet stuffed in his mouth.

You giggled as he struggled to chew quickly. “Could you finish this up for me? I’ve been summoned.” You picked up your kefta from a nearby chair you had thrown it on and slid into it.

“M’kay.” He nodded, the pastry still in his mouth. You quirked a brow before starting to leave.

“And please leave some desserts for the actual celebration!” You called teasingly over your shoulder.

“Ok ok, I will!” He laughed, talking clearly again.

You shook your head as you left, but when you were out of sight, slid a small pastry from your pocket and ate it quickly. You moaned as the sweet chocolate flavor melted on your tongue. The Little Palace bakers really were the best around. Perhaps you would be able to compliment their work when you were in the kitchens.

Why your husband wanted to meet you in the kitchens was beyond you, but perhaps his surprise had something to do with food. Your stomach grumbled loudly at the thought. You hadn’t been able to grab anything to eat today, as the fete preparation had been demanding your attention all day.

As you winded through the Little palace halls, you sniffed the air curiously. Your mouth watered as you smelled a familiar cinnamon scent. The kitchen staff must have made those gingerbread cookies you loved. Although they weren’t common in Ravka, you had acquired the taste for them in an undercover operation in Fjerda. Since then your husband made sure to always have the kitchens make the cookies during the winter months.

You felt yourself smile as you entered the kitchen and saw Aleksander standing behind a table full of gingerbread cookies, icing, and other candies. He wasn’t wearing his kefta, and had his long sleeves rolled up as he watched you come in with a grin on his face.

“Surprise my love.” He said with a gesture to the table.

“Sasha this is amazing!” You said, striding quickly over to kiss him.

“I figured we deserved a small break before all hell breaks loose.” Aleksander looked down at you lovingly as he cupped your jaw softly.

“Well, we still have some time left to enjoy ourselves.” You leaned in for another kiss against his warm lips. “We still have no idea where the stag is.”

“About that.” Aleksander started. “A tracker came in from the Fjerdan border, he said that he found it.” A wicked grin was on your husband's face. “Ironically, the tracker who found it is Malyen Oretsev.”

You huffed out a disbelieving laugh. “Alina’s Mal?”

Aleksander nodded. “We are to leave after the fete, and then shortly to the fold after we find it.”

“Saints! This is happening!” You shouted excitedly. “Aleksander, this is really happening!” You broke out into an even wider grin.

“I know. We are so close, my love. But let’s take one more night to ourselves. I was thinking we could make these into little houses.”

Aleksander handed you a wall piece with a shy smile. “What do you think?”

“I think,” You plucked the cookie out of his hand. “That my house will be even better than yours.” You giggled excitedly as you broke the embrace and rushed to a seat at the table.

“Highly doubtful, I’ve had centuries to practice cookie house making.” Aleksander joked, sitting next to you and grabbing more wall pieces.

“Oh please, I bet you spent those years wasting away in your war room.” You snarked back, spreading the white frosting on the cookie in front of you.

He snorted at that as he started on the base of the house. “You should really start with the foundation my love, or your house will look deflated next to mine.”

“Well if you’d stop distracting me, maybe you’ll actually get your house done.” You stuck your tongue out in concentration as you held two of the walls together.

Aleksander only shook his head as he turned his attention to his own house.

The two of you worked slowly, you added peppermint sticks around the wall creases to help the house stand as Aleksander focused on fine line details on the front of his house.

“Shit!” You hissed, as the roof started to drift apart. “No no no, you stay right there!” Aleksander laughed as you struggled to hold the roof together and lob on more frosting.

“Well it certainly looks like winter came to your house.” You groaned as you smeared more icing on the roof with a dull knife.

“Maybe I was going for a snowy look.” You sassed back, not looking at the detailed swirls that lined your husband's house.

“Ah yes, and the peppermint sticks holding up the house, is that another design element?” He smirked as the roof started to slide again.

“Nooooo stop it!” You yelled at the house falling apart in your hands.

“Darling hold the walls together.” You snapped, icing starting to coat your hands as Aleksander laughed even harder next to you.

“Does this mean I win?” He snarked, only watching you struggle.

“Oh for saints sake. Fine you win. Now help me salvage this thing.” You huffed out, concentrating on the house.

Despite the loss, you felt yourself blush as Aleksander stood behind you and held the walls together, trapping you inside his arms as he did so.

“Good.” You said, satisfied. “Now you just need to stay there until it dries.”

#fanfic #reader insert #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #darkling x reader #the darkling x y/n #the darkling x you #the darkling x reader #darkling x y/n #darkling x you #Christmas Drabble #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone

[greensaplinggrace]

@piolhynaplus asked: I have a fun meta for you! (hopefully) In season 2 of SnB, in one of the "best" parts of the season, Baghra and Alina are speaking about the tether and how it works, and we get a glimpse of this Alina actually feeling conflicted about her feelings for Aleksander (as she should) but then Baghra says: "He violated you." and I'm like... Did he though?? In what context is she talking about? He did lie, he did collar her, but violate?? Am I being paranoid because in my mother tongue violate equals rape and he certainly did not do that? (book! Aleksander didn't either) Is Baghra right and Aleksander did violate Alina in the series? I adore your metas, I hope you can help me!

hello! sorry for the strange way of answering your ask lol. tumblr ate it (I think because of the ellipses)

so, getting right into it:

yes, baghra was correct to use the term violate. I think it's strange that many of the people in this fandom will act so wishy-washy about the term, considering it is accurate by definition to the context of what occurred. aleksander violated alina in the sense that he acted against her consent to modify her body and her state of mind. violate in this case does not mean rape, it means non-consensual body modification, which is in itself horrific. in the books, the circumstances are a bit different, but still apply to the act of defying one's consent.

alina has every right to feel violated for what he did to her. she has every right to feel conflicted about the circumstances, as well. aleksander's lies were not a violation. his persona of kirigan was not a violation. nowhere in the books or the show does he rape or sexually assault her (the dream scene is not up for debate. in compliance with the lore, it would be physically impossible for him to show up like that and wear mal's face). nowhere in the books or the show does he act against her harmfully until she is his enemy, as well - which should also be taken into account, considering the framing of them still "being in a relationship" is one of the most popularly misrepresented aspects of their canon dynamic in this fandom. which of course leads to all sorts of incorrect analyses.

nevertheless, excluding all outside context and simply looking at the finer point of the situation, the collaring is by definition a violation.

to be honest, the reason this scene is the best in season two is because it's probably the only one that allows alina to not only be a character with depth, but also one who feels conflicted about her traumas and the very tumultuous circumstances by which they occurred. and even then, baghra acting so ridiculously out of character almost ruins it.

but baghra commenting on it here is meant to shape alina's perception of things without giving her the chance to fully come to terms with them herself. baghra functions as a deus ex author's mouthpiece, designed to guide the lore, the narrative, the messages, and the moral tone of the story so that the writing can rely as much on 'tell don't show' as physically possible (because otherwise the inconsistencies in the lore and themes would be drawn to attention)

while baghra is technically correct, I find her use of the word here narratively cheap. it's not actually acknowledging alina's pain or conflict. it's guiding her down a path that suits the black and white tone of the story and once more brings alina out of her complexity and into the doll she is for most of season two. to truly acknowledge how alina was violated, she would have to be able to work through it herself and come to terms with all of the conflicting feelings involved. and she is simply never allowed to do so, because the narrative works at every second to repress her in every meaningful way.

so in summary, the use of the word 'violate' is correct, but it hardly actually matters, considering the way alina's trauma is addressed in both the show and the books (it's at least slightly better in the books though, lol. show alina doesn't even get that much grace)

#grishaverse #shadow and bone #alina starkov #sab salt #sab critical #baghra morozova critical #sab meta #baghra morozova #asks and answers #myramblings #lol sorry for the strange way of replying XD #rape mention tw #abuse mention tw

[tirkdi]

I was wondering : In a hundred lifetimes, is your characterization of characters identical to what you interpret the characters in the novels as or are they changed according to your preferences?

Oh hmmm. While I always write according to my preferences (gotta keep my own interest, after all!), I would say that largely this work is based on my interpretation of the characters from the original trilogy, since it started out as an excuse to put a bunch of my headcanons together in one place. It is, though, as you can tell from the title, mixed in with some extremely selective canon from Rule of Wolves.

That said, the farther we get in to the fic, the more it diverges from canon as the characters grow and change (and a few facts are different – like the third amplifier or the specific flavor of immortality). The first 3.5 chapters are intended to be pretty strictly in line with book canon, and I hope that the subsequent chapters grow believably from there even with the differences.

I have had to do some stretching to make canon make sense to me in a way that may have changed things a bit. For instance – the immortality thing in TGT (which is very, very carefully never called 'immortality') never made much sense to me. Why did they assume Alina would be immortal/extreeeeemly long-lived? If it's just because of the amplifiers, then ... honestly, I don't understand why someone as desperate for a friend as he was wouldn't have made some other Grisha immortal in the last howevermany centuries. I'm sure you can come up with explanations for why, but I've never found any reasoning there very satisfying.

But then – Rule of Wolves! When we learn he and Baghra survived, and they actually use the word immortal! That got my brain spinning and that was one of the main impetuses for a lot of the fic.

So I guess it depends what you're asking specifically with this question. Some things (e.g. selective canon-picking from RoW) are certainly done according to my preferences, but I have largely tried to be true to (or at least consistent with) how I understand the book characterization. The canon divergence part of the fic is essentially me trying to answer the question of 'what would it take for the book characters to believably get to something like happiness?' – so to that end I am trying to write them close enough to how I read them in canon to be able to answer that question for myself.

#an ask #a hundred lifetimes ago #the grisha trilogy #grishaverse #anonymous

[lizajane2]

Shadow and Bone 2x02

"What do you want with us then?"

"You? Nothing. Honestly, I'm not even sure who you are."

Nikolai and Baghra... their sassiness is on a whole other level.

It's so obvious that Nik here is captivated by Alina. I don't know how I feel about that, but they certainly have something that Mal and Alina don't. It's fun. New. Exciting.

Aleksander: "The ache of it."

Alina: "I don't what you're talking about." I'm lonely and even I can see that you are!

My favorite quotes:

"But you still have no idea what it means to fake countless deaths, to reinvent yourself after every rebirth, to lose every loved one to sickness, desperation, hate, and time."

And time... the way Ben delivered that you can clearly hear that while Aleksander has escaped death repeatedly but has been unable to escape time, how it weighed on him over the centuries. As though it's his greatest enemy when the truth of it is Aleksander is his own worst enemy.

2. "My Alina, you live in a single moment. I live in a thousand."

Props to Genya. As terrified as she is, she's doing everything she can to survive. Just let my girl go!! Go let her settle with David somewhere in the countryside of Ravka.

I'm guessing that's Jordie. And also, how shitty of a person do you have to be to swindle two kids? Pekka Rollins that's who, he may be King of the Barrel, but he's literally scum on the bottom of everyone's shoe.

"See, fear in a smaller glass is instinct." Huh, never thought of it like that.

"Makes you wonder what else he's willing to destroy." Oh ye have so little faith both of you.

Jesper: "Inej and I need to know the plan."

Wylan, trying to put his foot down and seem confident: "Um, yes, I... I too would like to know the plan."

Me:

The moment of silence when Nina sits back down with her waffles, LMFAO!! And Kaz's confusion when she finds out where Poel's office is. Priceless!!

I can't believe they give the prisoners bad lobsters. Gross.

Except he's not thinking about forgiveness. AND HOW DARE THE WRITERS STEAL A KISS SCENE BETWEEN MATTHIAS AND NINA FROM ME!! AND OFF SCREEN NONETHELESS!! HOW DARE THEY!!

I love the fact that they added gold embroidery into Aleksander's kefta to indicate his connection to Alina. "I will never wear your color." He certainly will wear yours though, Alina.

Ha, even Tamar walking in on Nik and Alina is like "I'm pretty sure I just interrupted something."

"You've kept me in this hellhole for weeks. And even I look better than you." Baghra, I love you and I have missed you.

"There are holes in the cave floors." Yeah, it's more than just holes in the ground, it's a gigantic sea snake.

All this time Jes wanted a demolition expert and he's like, "I'm not too sure about this skinny beanpole who just happened to show up out of nowhere. But he's also kinda cute." And yes, Wylan, Jes does trust Kaz. He's just questioning it at the moment.

And I don't know why Jes continues to hide the fact that he's Durast but dude:

"This won't end well, Kaz."

"No, it won't. But I'll be the one who ends it."

My man is so unhinged but he's also treating the people around him like pawns... fucking rude. They're not chess pieces you lunatic.

"My Alina."

It sends a chill down my spine. Every single time.

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone season 2 #alina starkov #mal oretsev #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #matthias helvar #nina zenik #wylan van eck #aleksander morovoza #the darkling

[pikachuondrugs]

Doom Upon The World

A/N: This is a series I’ve already started and posted here. Decided to bring it here as well, maybe it’ll break my writers block? Here to hoping! Eventually all chapters available there will be brought over here once re-edited. Would love to hear any thoughts, ideas, criticisms ya’ll have!

Pairing: Aleksander x Alina

What if Baghra’s motives for separating Aleksander and Alina were far more… sinister?

I’d had plans for the Sun Summoner for hundreds of years. How to control her, to use her against our enemies, and yet… It all seemed to disappear when she finally came into my life. Alina Starkov. My Sun Summoner. My equal. My other half. I'd never truly understood the concept of soulmates until her. I hadn’t realized how much of myself was missing until she had been quiet literally dragged into my life.

Previous Chapter Next Chapter Chapter Index

Chapter 3: Fear

But Aleksander would protect me, I knew that like I knew the sky was blue. It frightened me how certain of it I was.

"Aleksander…" I breathed, pulling against Bahgra's hold. The old woman was stronger than she looked however, and I felt strangely weak. There was a horrid feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

But Aleksander would protect me, I knew that like I knew the sky was blue. It frightened me how certain of it I was.

I wanted- needed- an explanation, something to reconcile the two dueling versions of him in my mind. There was the Black Heretic, a man they said created the Fold out of greed, a demon who doomed hundreds to fates worse than death, something evil, something to be feared. Someone I felt so far from knowing. Then Aleksander. The Black General. The Darkling. The man who saved my life. Fearsome to be sure, but no monster. He wanted what was best for his people, defended them ruthlessly. He wanted somewhere safe for them, after so many years of pain. How could they be one and the same? I thought I was beginning to understand him.

I needed to be free of the old woman's punishing grip, needed space to calm my racing thoughts, to make a decision. If I was wrong about him, what was I dooming myself to if I stayed? And what if I wasn't? I’d never felt as comfortable as I did here, in the Little Palace. It wasn’t just the material comforts, it was the people. The Grisha had overwhelmingly accepted me as one of their own, didn’t care that I was a Half Shu orphan. Nearly everyone I’d met had a similar, or worse, story. But that didn’t matter anymore, because we weren’t alone anymore. We are Grisha. It felt so freeing to finally have a people and a place to call home. Could I risk losing that? Did I want to?

You are not alone. I couldn’t help but remember his eyes as my fingers closed around his wrist and my light burst out to push his shadows away. They’d been filled with such gentleness and relief it made me want to kiss him, comfort him, love him. I shook my head quickly, forcing the thoughts away and tried to tug free again.

But Bahgra refused to break her hold. I didn't want to hurt the older woman, but an inky fear was creeping up my spine. Somethings not right. Perhaps I could blind her just enough to release me? But then what? What would I do? Run? Stay? I certainly was not going anywhere with her, but where else could I go? I couldn't worry about that yet. I drew my hands together, as much as I was able, and willed my light forward. Nothing came. Not even a flicker. I tried again, my breathing quickening in fear. Nothing. I couldn’t even feel it.

Aleksander's eyes had snapped to me, a strange emotion I’d never seen in his eyes. Fear, I realized, even as my own panic set in. Why couldn't I call my light? It should be too easy, Baghra was an amplifier, same as her son. All it took was a touch from Aleksander and I could summon as easily as breathing. All I felt now was weak.

Bahgra's grip was tight- too tight -and strong, and she pulled us another few steps back. Aleksander mirrored our steps quickly, a few stray shadows drawing even closer, though not enough to gain the old woman's attention.

"I can't-I don't... what is going on?" I didn't know who the question was directed at. I tried to quell the panic, though not very successfully, my heart was racing and my breathing labored. I wanted to pull away, wanted to call the comfort and protection my light would provide. But still nothing came. I could hardly move, hadn't felt this weak since before I came to the Little Palace, before I started using my powers regularly. Hadn't realized how much my light felt like part of me, until I couldn't touch it. It felt unnatural to be without it.

"I've told you already, girl. You are leaving." Baghra's tone had sounded concerned in the beginning, spinning her tale of how evil her son was, how he only wanted to manipulate me. Now it was cold, filled with venom. Her shadows curled closer around us. They felt nothing like the shadows Aleksander had summoned before, these felt oppressive, like they wanted to smother me, suck the very light from me. I tried to yank away again, but the old woman's grip would not yield.

Thankfully I heard what sounded like footsteps, approaching quickly. I tried not to breathe out a sign of relief, unsure if the two Shadow summoners heard them.

"No. She is not. Let her go, Mother." Aleksander practically growled as Ivan and Feydor appeared behind their general, pausing to assess the situation. Baghra eyed them warily, searching for any signs of the Heartrender pair using their gifts.

I nearly jumped when a tendril of shadow wrapped itself around my free wrist. I forced myself not to react further, not daring to look. Though it was cold to the touch, it still elicited the same electricity as its master's touch always seemed to. Aleksander. The shadow squeezed my wrist in what felt strangely like comfort, the pressure surprisingly soothing. Its like I could feel his hands again, steading me, calming me, filling me with power and surety. My light was at the tips of my fingers again, and I nearly cried in relief. The loss of my powers, even for those few moments, made me feel so empty, so vulnerable. Like all the most important parts of me were missing, and I decided quickly that I never wanted to feel that way again, never wanted to be without them again.

While Baghra's gaze remained fixed on the Heartrender duo, I carefully formed a dull sphere of light in my free palm. As they came to a stop a few steps behind Aleksander, I lashed quickly out at the old woman, pulling on all my borrowed strength to brighten my golden light into a blinding hot white. The sphere missed Bahgra's face by mere inches, distracting her enough that I could finally wrench free. I stubbled back away from them quickly, my powers surging back fully and I threw out another ball of blinding light, brighter than the last, at the ancient woman. When the light died out, Baghra was gone.

"Do not let her get far." Ivan and Feydor were quick to action, hurrying past, deeper down the dark tunnel, leaving us alone. Now what am I going to do? I looked anywhere but him. I rubbed my newly freed wrist, noting the bruise already forming. I could feel Aleksander watching me, and when he took a small step toward me I glanced up at him.

"Alina." He stepped closer, reaching out to me. I couldn't help taking a retreating step back, still unsure. He looked almost hurt, before schooling his expression into an indifferent mask, dropping his hand. His shadow slid away from my wrist, returning to its place at its masters side. I forced myself not to reach for it, my fingers twitching against the urge. Already missing it's strangely calming pressure around my wrist, the safety and calm it had sparked was fading away, leaving only the fear and pain.

But I couldn't let myself get distracted. I had to know the truth. Had to know if had been all a manipulation, if he had truly planned to take my power for his own. If he had truly cared for me at all. If this was just some game to him.

"Is it true? What your mother said about your plans for the stag, your plans for me." I couldn’t keep my voice from trembling. An unfamiliar pang of guilt hit me after I spoke, but was gone as quickly as it had come.

"Can we discuss this elsewhere? It’s not safe here anymore." Aleksander asked, hesitantly coming closer again, and I forced myself not to flinch away again. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. It was not a terrible idea, though it would certainly be much more difficult to escape, if need be. Was that still an option? Could I be safe with Baghra out there? Would he even let me go? I did not know what the old woman wanted from me, but it was certainly nothing good. Was here any better? What did Aleksander really want from me? Even though I knew I was safe with him, that did not mean he couldn’t betray me. Keeping me safe did not mean keeping me free.

"Fine. But I want answers."

#alina x aleksander #ben barnes #ben barnes is hot disease #aleksander kirigan #aleksander morovoza #alina starkov #shadow and bone #darklina #alina x darkling #baghra’s a+ parenting

[orlissa]

Been thinking for some days of a Christmas Carol AU where the night of the Winter Fete Alina is too slow so Baghra knocks her out and when she is unconscious she meets the three ghosts from A Christmas Carol. The Ghost of the Christmas Past shows her the events of Demon in the Wood and the creation of the Fold, (and maybe some events from Alina and Mal's childhood to show that most of their relationship was Mal steamrolling over her and her putting his needs over her own just for scraps of attention) Ghost of the Christmas Present shows Zlatan sending an assassin after her and the inequality and persecution of the Grisha, and the Ghost of the Christmas Future shows her the ending of Ruin and Rising where she kills the Darkling and goes off to live in Keramzin with Mal while nothing changes for Ravka.

And Alina starts thinking (because she now actually has time to think) about why the Darkling is doing what he is doing, and whether Baghra is really trustworthy, and whether she could make Aleksander come to a compromise and only destroy the drydocks. And most importantly about the future with Mal and she's just 'But I never wanted that, that was what Mal wanted, I wanted to roam the world' and how killing Aleksander only made things worse for the Grisha, and talks it through with each of the ghosts. Then she wakes up (dunno how or where) and decides to go and help Aleks in his mission.

I know the Grishaverse doesn't really have Christmas (and I haven't read A Christmas Carol since I was a little kid, so i don't know whether what I described is accurate) but I've been thinking about this for a while. If I had any literary skill I'd write it myself but I have absolutely zero writing ability (barely passed my English tests in high school) and I would just butcher it, so I was wondering whether you would be interested in it or mention it in the Darklina Discord server where a lot of Darklina writers are from in case someone else was (I don't have Discord so I can't do that myself).

I'm sorry, I know I seem like a jerk for asking someone else to do the work, but it's just that I was hoping someone could do justice to the story (and it certainly isn't me). I understand if you tell me to fuck off.

~Christmas Carol Anon

Hi Christmas Carol Anon!

No worries! The DDS actually has a channel for prompts, I can totally drop it there 😊

And as far as the Grishaverse not really having Christmas---then it doesn't have to be Christmas! You can just take the basic premise, the three ghosts (or just one ghost) visiting Alina to let her know she is doing something wrong. I would actually have her flee the Little Palace on her own--since Scrooge's faults were his own, too--, not knocked out by Baghra. It's just... same as canon, then the first nigjt on the run, the spirits appear. Ooh, Alexei could stand in for Marley's ghost!

#darklina #shadow and bone #fanfic #ask

[beatrix2712]

2023 Tumblr Top 10

1. 54 notes - Mar 28 2023

“Would you?” asked Wylan, his chin jutting forward. “Trust someone with that knowledge, with a secret that could destroy you?”

Yes, thought Kaz without hesitation. There’s one person I would trust. One person I know would never use my weaknesses against me.

- Crooked Kingdom

2. 36 notes - Mar 23 2023

Inej had wanted Kaz to become someone else, a better person, a gentler thief. But that boy had no place here. That boy ended up starving in an alley. He ended up dead. That boy couldn’t get her back.

I’m going to get my money, Kaz vowed. And I’m going to get my girl. Inej could never be his, not really, but he would find a way to give her the freedom he’d promised her so long ago.

Dirtyhands had come to see the rough work done.

- Six of Crows

3. 33 notes - Mar 24 2023

“Why won’t he just say he wants her back?”

“You’ve met Kaz, right?”

- Crooked Kingdom

4. 30 notes - Feb 18 2023

“Go somewhere you’re wanted.”

“That’s hardly limiting,” he said. “ Alina, I’ll be back to fetch you for dinner, but should you grow restless, do feel free to run screaming from the room or take a dagger to her. Whatever seems most fitting at the time.”

“Are you still here?” snapped Baghra.

“I go but hope to remain in your heart,” he said solemnly. Then he winked and disappeared.

- Ruin and Rising

5. 26 notes - Mar 25 2023

She could feel the press of Kaz’s fingers against her skin, feel the bird’swing brush of his mouth against her neck, see his dilated eyes. Two of the deadliest people the Barrel had to offer and they could barely touch each other without both of them keeling over. But they’d tried. He’d tried. Maybe they could try again.

Crooked Kingdom

6. 24 notes - Mar 23 2023

He hated that Inej had seen him this way, that anyone had, but on the heels of that thought came another: Better it should be her. In his bones, he knew that she would never speak of it to anyone, that she would never use this knowledge against him. She relied on his reputation. She wouldn’t want him to look weak. But there was more to it than that, wasn’t there? Inej would never betray him. He knew it. Kaz felt ill. Though he’d trusted her with his life countless times, it felt much more frightening to trust her with this shame.

Six of Crows

7. 24 notes - Mar 23 2023

“I don’t want your prayers,” he said. “What do you want, then?” The old answers came easily to mind. Money. Vengeance. Jordie’s voice in my head silenced forever. But a different reply roared to life inside him, loud, insistent, and unwelcome. You, Inej. You.

Six of Crows

8. 21 notes - Mar 24 2023

Jesper pointed his gun at the scholar’s chest. “Move.” “Jesper!” his father said. “Don’t worry, Da. People point guns at each other all the time in Ketterdam. It’s basically a handshake.” “Is that true?” his father asked as the scholar grudgingly moved aside and they shoved the heavy desk in front of the door. “Absolutely,” said Wylan. “Certainly not,” said the scholar. Jesper waved them on. “Depends on the neighborhood.”

Crooked Kingdom

9. 20 notes - Mar 31 2023

Kaz’s gaze was cool. “If someone wants it, I can sell it. It’s as simple as that.”

Maybe, thought Zoya. Or maybe Kaz was like Nikolai, a boy with an unquiet mind, a man in perpetual need of challenge. He’d decided the base was a puzzle and he couldn’t resist finding its solution.

- Rule of Wolves

10. 19 notes - Mar 24 2023

Inej thought of Kaz’s pale trickster hands, the shiny rope of scar tissue that ran atop his right knuckle. Van Eck could break every finger and both of Kaz’s legs and he’d never say a word, but if his men stripped away Kaz’s gloves? Inej still didn’t understand why he needed them or why he’d fainted in the prison wagon on the way into the Ice Court, but she knew Kaz couldn’t bear the touch of skin on skin. How much of this weakness could he hide? How quickly would Van Eck locate his vulnerability, exploit it? How long until Kaz came undone? She couldn’t bear it. She was glad she didn’t know where Kuwei was. She would break before Kaz did.

Crooked Kingdom

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#tumblrtop10

[stromuprisahat]

Wait... I just read the news about the Darkling and... How come he could pass for a Shu?! Wtf?! OK. This information is just awesome, and it's outrageous that we've ever had fanart to represent this aspect of the character. But also... Why was it never named in the original trilogy? Are you going to tell me that no one would criticize this aspect of the Darkling's appearance when he is extremely feared and already talked to death about his back because of his nature as a summoner of darkness? Nobody said anything about him looking like the enemy too? The grishas, ​​okay. In the book, grishas are simply judged as grishas and not Fjerda or Shu. But for non-Grishas it's a different story. Also, it's a Leigh Bardugo thing to retrospectively change details about her characters. Here we have the Darkling which looks like a Shu. But in the King's of Scars duology Zoya suddenly becomes a character of color when it seems to me that she was white in the original trilogy. And then, Alina has no official age in the trilogy, but must surely have been around 18 or more in volume 1 (if we try to calculate), but who is however changed in the other volumes to say that no she was only 18 when she "died" although the author specifies that she was a minor in volume 1 to reinforce his stupid idea of ​​an Alina victim of the Darkling as much as possible.

Aleksander is easily explainable. He's mentioned to be "able to pass as Shu", which doesn't necessarily mean he'll look like a "typical" citizen. He's dark-haired, fluent in the language... since Ravka has a long, turbulent history with Shu-Han, there will be disputable areas and its inhabitants, who look accordingly. DitW comics solved it elegantly, by making Baghra tan, therefore Aleksander would be assumed to be a product of mixed marriage.

Zoya is a simple collecting of wokie points. Alina never forgets to mention POCs, so the girl, who's been bullying her (and fucked her not-bf) would certainly be more than just "stunningly beautiful". Zoya from the pre-KoS fanarts "approved" by the author was pale, Zoya from the official art for KoS is visibly tan, yet she's described as not-Suli looking?! She's Suli out of nowhere, while for other characters it would cover at least 40 % of their description [See: Paja, the Alkemi in S&S].

As for Alina's age, there have been posts counting it, saying it's okay, there have been others counting it is not corresponding... I might get to read them properly, I think I have at least two saved in drafts, but I don't really care enough rn. Alina in show had been aged-up, and while it didn't help her maturity, it certainly didn't save us from fandom police calling Aleksander a paedo groomer, so...

#reply #Grishaverse #The Darkling #Zoya Nazyalensky #Alina Starkov #grishanalyticritical #anti Leigh Bardugo

[marvelmusing]

An Era of Power

Part Six

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Fem!Reader

Summary: Preparations for the Winter Fete have begun, and your ability to master your power increases as you return to lessons. The General surprises you with a visit.

Word Count: 1.2K

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist

“Ouch!” You exclaim when Baghra’s cane once again hits your arm. In the chilly winter air, your kefta provides some warmth, but it doesn’t stop the occasional shiver when a strong gust of wind hits your face.

It had taken some time, but you had decided to finally take up Baghra’s lessons again, much to both yours and the old woman’s delight.

“Concentrate.” She snaps at you.

Standing in front of the lake, you’re attempting to use your power to maintain the thick ice covering it, as it had during the middle of winter. It’s a large surface area that shifts when you make the slightest change. Too much pressure will crack the ice, too little and you’ll fail to freeze the water to a firm enough state.

“I am.” You protest, but you are a little distracted this evening and Baghra isn’t convinced.

Preparations for the Winter Fete have officially begun, and the entire palace is buzzing with excitement. It’s hard not to be swept up by the glamour of it all, and to wonder what the day itself will bring.

“Dreaming of dancing with your dark prince?” She mocks, and you roll your eyes.

Baghra had always seemed contemptuous of your relationship with the General, and the closeness between you both which increased with every interaction.

“And what if I am?”

“He isn’t who you think he is.” Your brow furrows, and whilst you usually ignore her comments, this time you sigh.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” There’s a snap from the lake in front of you, as a crack forms where the ice is thinnest.

“Concentrate!”

“I will if you are quiet!” You hiss at her, pushing your focus back onto the task at hand.

“Do you think the volcra will sit quietly and allow you to unmake them?” You grit your teeth, trying to block out her words.

“No, but they certainly won’t try to engage in conversation.” You remark.

You thrust your hands out and the ice thickens to a permanent state, safe enough for hundreds of people to walk all over. Raising a brow as you observe your work, you feel quite satisfied with your success.

“I would ask if you are happy now, but I don’t think you’re capable of such an emotion.” Your words die as you turn and see the General standing beside Baghra, a half smile on his lips and amusement sparkling in his eyes.

“An impressive feat.” He remarks, nodding towards the lake, and your face warms despite the cold winter breeze.

“You saw how strong she is. Give her a bear claw or a shark tooth, see what good it does her.”

Your heart sinks with her words, and you worry for a moment that the General will agree. He shakes his head resolutely.

“She’ll have the Stag.”

“I’m right here.” You remind them, and they both turn to you. It’s almost frightening being the subject of such attention.

You fix your eyes on Baghra.

“I will have the Stag, because I want it.” Baghra scoffs, but doesn’t argue. “Are we done for today?”

She nods, waving her hand in a dismissive gesture, and you don’t waste a moment, turning towards the path that will take you back to the Little Palace. You haven’t gone far before you hear Baghra say to the General,

“She’s as ambitious and foolhardy as you are, boy. It’s no wonder you’ve been able to sink your claws into her.”

You don’t hear the General’s response over the crunch of snow beneath your feet, and the winter wind that tugs at your kefta. What you do hear is footsteps from behind you, and you turn. In a few strides the General is beside you and the two of you walk side by side over the snow-covered grounds.

“Don’t pay too much attention to her.” He cards a hand through his hair in frustration. “I rarely do.” A smile tugs at the corner of your mouth.

“She ruffles you, doesn’t she?”

He doesn’t answer your question, instead his eyes narrow - almost in disbelief - as he tells you,

“No one has ever spoken to her as you do.”

“I care very little for her opinion of me.” You admit with a shrug. “And one day I will turn her cane back into a tree.”

He laughs, and your smile widens. You wish he would laugh more often. A particularly icy gust of wind tears at you, biting into your exposed skin, and you rub your hands together rapidly to conserve what little warmth you have left.

The General unclasps his cloak, and drapes the dark fabric around your shoulders. Your lips part, ready to insist that you’re fine, but he gives you a firm look which has the words dying on your tongue. You’re glad it isn’t his cloak with the fur collar, as that would have been far too heavy for you to carry.

“Are you looking forward to the Fete?” He asks as you pull his cloak tighter around your body. You nod and excitement fills your expression.

“Genya says she’s personally working on my kefta for the Fete, and I already know it’s going to be beautiful. David has been working on a new formula for the fireworks display. He hasn’t gotten it right yet, and there was a small explosion in the workshop the other day, but I know he’s close to perfecting it. I’ve never actually seen fireworks before, and I think they’re going to be my favourite part of the day.”

Your words are halted when you look at the General, there’s a small smile on his lips, and something in his dark eyes that you fail to decipher. You duck your head, staring down at your feet.

“I’m sorry, you probably don’t want to hear about any of this.” Despite only being a Durast for the first few years of your life, you have always been fascinated by the abilities of a Fabrikator. The General shakes his head and his smile remains.

“Please continue. Such enthusiasm is a rarity these days.”

Your smile returns quickly, and you leap back into your explanation.

“Some of the Fabrikators have been working with the Inferni to create some handheld fireworks. It’s essentially a thin piece of metal with a flammable coating at one end, and when lit it should create a small continuous sparkle until the material burns out. It’s incredible.”

His smile softens as he observes your excitement and you can see he’s genuinely interested in your words.

“I have to admit, the Fete isn’t one of my favourite occasions.” The General admits as the two of you walk over the gravel which leads to the entrance to the Little Palace, and you nod.

You had heard that he insisted on calling the Grisha performances a demonstration. Something of function, not entertainment. You can understand his reasoning. Grisha aren’t a pretty party trick for nobles, you are people.

“But your perspective has reminded me that this Fete is an opportunity for Grisha to flourish as they always should.”

The two of you stop in the hallway, devoid of anyone besides the two guards for the evening. Despite knowing that you must separate, your rooms are in the opposite direction to his, neither of you seem to want to leave.

Slowly, you begin to slide his cloak from your shoulders.

“Keep it.” He insists softly. “The corridors are cold during this time of year.” You smile gently, tugging the fabric close.

“Thank you.”

“Have a good evening.” He says, bowing his head politely, and you mirror his actions.

“Good evening, General.”

»»---------------------►

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#an era of power #the darkling #the darkling x reader #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #general kirigan x reader #the darkling x y/n #the darkling x you #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone

[aleksanderscult]

23, 30 for Darkling

23) If they were a scented candle, what would they smell like?

The first scent that came to my mind was pine. His smell has been described as the scent of the forests, of the night, of the winter cold, of absence. So something woody comes to mind. Pine or sandalwood.

If he had his own scented candle it would be something delicate, not strong. Not exactly sweet but not bad either. The smell would prickle your nose slightly just like winter does when it's too cold outside.

30) Sleeping habits

Ooh I already have a headcanon about this!

So my theory is that in the beginning of his life, he slept quite a lot. At least eight hours every night (if his mother didn't wake him up). And he enjoyed it too. But as the years and centuries passed I imagine him sleeping less and less. Now I think he sleeps at least two-three hours the day.

And I don't see him as being too restless while sleeping. I think he sleeps either deeply or keeps his one eye open (like Baghra did). He certainly is the last person to go to bed and the first one to wake.

Oh and his hair is a wild mess when he wakes up

#his smell must be SO amazing! #it gives comfort-cozy vibes ngl #as for his sleeping habits #that man became an insomniac as the years passed #ask game #anon asks #grishaverse #the darkling #pro darkling #aleksander morozova #pro aleksander morozova #shadow and bone

[fanficclub]

So, I’ve watched Shadow and Bone.

I know there is a book series, and the story is almost surely better there, but I am wary of reading a book about a fictional russian empire right now...

But ignoring all that, let’s talk about the russian and “russian” words in the story!

(spoilers ahead, I suppose)*

First, a mild one, but “Grisha” is a name, and it’s pretty common - a short form of Grigoriy. It’s alright, just a bit amusing)

As we are on topic of names, the surname “Morozova” is perfectly fine. And when you say, for example, “Morozova amplifiers” it sounds natural, because in russian, the words, including surnames, are inflected depending on the question they answer - in this case, “whose?”. The problems begin, when we start using the surname in the default form. You see, in russian, like in many slavic languages (Ukrainian included), all words have a gender: female, male, or neutral. And because the words of a certain gender often have a similar structure, we assign a gender to certain surnames as well. For instance, Kostenko (Shevchenko, Prokopenko) would have no gender, because it ends with -ko, but Ivanov (Trunov, Popov) has a male gender, because of the consonant at the end (not a hard rule). The surnames that are not neutral come in pairs, with a female and a male form:  Ivanova-Ivanov, Trunova-Trunov, Popova-Popov. So when a man has this surname, he gets a male version, and when a woman has it, she gets the female one.        So, back to the book: you probably already guessed, but Morozova is a female surname. When a man has this surname, it becomes Morozov. So, Baghra Morozova and Aleksander Morozov.

Up next, “merzost”. This one is nice, though I don’t know why ancient knowledge of spells would be called  “vileness”, “nastiness”, and “filthiness”. I’m sure it is clear in the books.

Talking about magic, “nichevo’ya” makes only half a sense. “Nichevo” literally means “nothing”, so good here, but “ya” means “I”, and, besides that, you would never put these words in this order, and you would certainly not merge them together in one word. Idk what was the purpose of this addition.

The different Grisha classes only sound vaguely russian, but are not actual words, so I’ll skip them. Perhaps I’ll only say that since they all end in -ki, they are plural: Corporalki, Etherealki, Materialki. So a singular of these would probably be Corporalek or Corporalka - but again, these are not words, so I’m guessing.

”Volcra” is, I think, just a new word. It doesn’t really sound russian. 

I gathered that the First army are often called “otkazatsya”, and I’m not sure why. First of all, it’s not a noun or an adjective - it’s a verb. It means “to refuse/renounce/disavow”. Maybe the point was that they are refused the powers by the universe, but the connection is very shaky. And why a verb?..      They could use, for example, “brosheniy” - meaning “the one that got abandoned”. 

The ship name “Volkvolny” is actually two words: “volk” and “volny”, meaning “the wolf of the waves”. A good name, I think. 

Seeing a guard being called “oprichniki” made me cringe, mostly because it reminded me that Ravka takes after the russian empire (how terrible).

”Kefta” is not a russian word. However there is, I just learned, a Turkish dish called kefta or kefte:) Here, I think the author meant “kofta”, which is a general word for a piece of clothing like a sweater with buttons at the front, but changed one letter for fun. In the show, they kind of look central Asian, so I thought the word is specific, but no. And wouldn’t it be nicer, if Ravka was a country based on central Asia, rather than the empire that occupied it...

These are all words I can remember now, feel free to tell me if I missed something. I am honestly a bit baffled by all the inconsistencies. Could they not hire one(1) russian speaking person to look over the script?

*I am not russian, thankfully, but I live in the territory it former occupied, so I speak the language.

#shadow and bone #grishverse #the grisha trilogy

[scifimagpie]

help idk what I'm doing

well, okay, I may have attempted a fan fiction.

Chapter 1: The Coronation

Chapter Text

The Cut was formed not of light, but of darkness. Alina hadn't expected that.

But its results were less shocking. She'd seen the Cut's work before, slicing limbs from bodies and heads from shoulders. The enemy Grisha - or whatever the Fjerdans would have called her - slumped to the floor, her head and left shoulder sliding away from her right shoulder and the rest of her torso in a bloody pile.

Alina couldn't help a brief smile of satisfaction. So, this was what it felt like.

Aleksander - the Darkling - and Baghra had known the brutal efficiency of this, and she'd used light to cut Aleksander herself before, but wielding the darkness...this was something new.

Around her, the ballroom was a morass of crimson. So many fine dresses ruined. Alina had never been particularly fond of dresses, but her coronation gown was quite fine. She wondered, distantly, just how many Fabrikators would be kept busy with removing blood from all those gowns. So many nobles and foreign dignitaries were struggling to breathe, leaning on one another for support.

In the midst of it all, Alina felt like an island in the sea - waves lashing around her, but unmoved by the chaos. She wondered how many people had seen her wield that fatal cut.

Then the part of her mind - new, but developing - that had to focus on statecraft and alliances, chimed in. Since when did the Fjerdans make use of a Drusje? Surely that was deeply against their religion. Then again, principles rarely survived war, said another part of her.

She couldn't help thinking of the Darkling's eyes, the intensity in his face as he'd gazed at her. They will fear you, he'd warned her. Said they would love her until that love was used up, and it soured to hate like kefir gone off. 

Well, perhaps Fjerda would benefit from a little fear. 

Alina kept smiling. 

Next to her, Nikolai could barely speak or breathe. "Nikolai," she said, attending to her surroundings again. 

He reached for her, and Alina offered a shoulder. Her own lungs and chest felt scraped, ravaged by whatever the Heartrender had been doing - but using her gift had immediately fortified her. If anything, she felt luminous. Radiant. Powerful. 

"Are you all right?" Alina asked, reaching for him. Genya was already staggering forward, reflexively trying to clean Alina's gown. She nodded, reaching out to dab away blood from Alina's gown. On Genya's arm, Zoya appeared, a swirl of blue and silver, clutching her elbow protectively. 

As though ripping away a scab, Alina came back to herself. How could she think of politics at a time like this? They needed triage. Horror, fresh and human, washed over her senses. There was so much blood everywhere. Had they lost anyone? 

Well - he wasn't necessarily lost, but at least he was away from this. She hoped. Was Mal all right? 

Her heart clenched at the thought of him, and she found her fists tightened as well. Gradually, slowly, she uncoiled them. She had to try and let go. 

That was a pain she'd barely even begun to comprehend, and she certainly didn't have time for it now. 

"Zoya, get as many Heartrenders and Healers here as you can, quickly," ordered Alina. 

Zoya nodded, her pretty lips pressed firmly together. She looked outraged, and as she turned on a heel, Alina was glad to be on the right side of her. They hadn't always been friends. 

At least she could count on Zoya to ensure that whoever had orchestrated this would pay. Yes, they'd certainly pay. If she had to cut their throats with the Neshyenyer herself. 

Once again, Alina found herself appalled at her own thoughts. She was a mapmaker, not much of a warrior. True, they called her "Sankta Alina," and she was about to become queen - but that didn't mean she was any less of an orphan from Keramzin, a pathetic little girl playing dress up. 

Only I see you for who you truly are, whispered a voice in her mind. She batted it away. She could not think of the Darkling at a time like this. He was a raw wound in her side, unhealed and barely stitched. 

But Alina had to wonder - without Mal to turn to, or the Darkling to guide her (his hands on her neck, caressing the collar made of the Stag's horns) - how many pieces of her were still left?  

#shadow and bone #tv #canon compliant #part 1 #alina starkov