#Aleksander morozov

[vorbarrsultana]

on fridays, we wear black and gold

[wiwiurikawa]

I observed that some people have tendency to see a character only as a victim or abuser. If they like the character they would overlook thieir negative impact on others and say that other characters deserved what the charcter done to them or say that the character done it out of love. I saw posts that say that (abused)characters ware not really abused.

On the other hand I saw also posts that compleatly disregarded everithing good that the character done. They say hi's an abuser and nothing else. Usually that are the characters who done something to the main character.

The thing is, I don't really like it when someone is only abuser/victim when it was shown in the tekst that they done bad/good things to. It bothers me becouse it asasinete their character. It's human to do bad and good, to make mistakes. So please don't do it to characters. They are more then just a victim/abuser.

[zoyalaisobachka]

Aleksander: Please stop getting shot, it stresses me out. Nikolai (sarcastic): Oh well, if YOU don't like it..

[thereisnolumos]

They just unleashed him on us. This was porn. Porn in its purest most seductive form🔥🔥🔥

[stromuprisahat]

me: Aleksander Morozova deserves someone, who wouldn't be ashamed of their feelings for him, someone who wouldn't make his mother's words into a Holy scripture and would ask about his side of the story instead, someone who wouldn't dehumanize him to disregard his feelings more easily, someone who'd react to his immortality with empathy and concern. He deserves someone, who wouldn't demonize his every action, quick to believe the worst about him. Someone, who wouldn't interpret every breath he takes as a result of malevolent intention... McDonald’s employee: uhhhh do you want to order something or —

[marvelmusing]

The New Girl

Part of The Darkling Wears Prada AU

Pairing: Aleksander Morozov x Fem!Reader

Summary: Aleksander Morozov is the Editor in Chief of Ravka’s leading fashion magazine. As his First Assistant, you feel very responsible for his new Second Assistant - Alina Starkov.

My Masterlist

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“Good afternoon, Aleksander Morozov’s office.”

You tuck the phone between the side of your face and your shoulder as you continue to type out an email to Nikolai.

“Go get lunch.”

You frown at the familiar voice, leaning forwards to look through the doorway to your left. As your eyes land on your boss, you ensure the puzzlement is shown clearly on your face. Aleksander stares back at you, his phone nestled in his hand, with his head tilted casually.

“I brought you your lunch twenty minutes ago.”

He raises a brow at you.

“Your own lunch, milaya.”

Your face warms, as it always does whenever he uses a term of endearment when addressing you. You shake your head.

“I can’t leave the new girl on her own to cover the phones.”

“I’ll cover them.” You breathe out a small laugh,

“You can’t answer your own phone.”

He rolls his eyes, a playful smile on his lips. You’ve been Aleksander’s assistant for several years, and the two of you had become firm friends over that time.

“Where’s Genya?” He asks.

“You sent her over to Calvin Klein.”

“When was that?”

You hum in thought, looking down at the time in the corner of your computer screen.

“An hour ago?”

“When she comes back, ask her to cover your desk and keep an eye on the new girl.”

“You’re not going to let this go are you?” You say with a half teasing sigh.

“You are not skipping lunch.” He states firmly.

“Alright, but Genya won’t be happy with you.” The corner of his mouth quirks.

“I find I can live with that.” You shake your head at him.

It isn’t long before Genya returns with two armfuls of Calvin Klein bags and boxes. She, rather ceremoniously, drops them in Aleksander’s office, to which he uses as an opportunity to tell her that she’ll be covering for you.

Genya doesn’t mind in the slightest. You know she’s been dying to give the new girl the rundown on all the employees and designers. You know Alina will be in safe hands with Genya, nevertheless, you’re still eager to give Alina all the advice you can before you leave.

“Okay so I created this list of extension numbers which you can use if you get stuck. If you need a minute to panic and find a number, just put them on hold.” Alina listens to your every word with rapt attention. You slide a laminated piece of paper in front of her, and she looks down at it. “There’s three columns: the number, the department, and the department heads.” She nods as you point out each column. “So, if someone rings and asks for David and you don’t know who David is…”

You trail off, hoping she’ll have picked up on it. Her eyes widen, and she looks down, her eyes flickering over the words frantically.

“Um.” There’s a pause, before she looks back at you. “Put them on hold?”

You nod with an encouraging smile.

“And then?”

“And then, look for David on this list.” Her finger trails along the page until her nail, painted a pretty pastel yellow, taps against David’s number.

“There you go.” She seems a little more reassured, but she still eyes the phone warily. “If in doubt, redirect it to Genya.”

“Anything else?” She asks, turning a pen over in her hands. You click your tongue in thought, running over as many possibilities as possible.

“Number one rule: never send a call directly to Mr Morozov.” You slide a notepad in front of her, and she leans her elbows on the desk. “If someone does ask for him, write down their name, and the reason why they’re calling. Then ring Mr Morozov and ask if he wants to speak to them.”

She begins to take some notes, her handwriting small and neat along the ruled lines of the paper. A stark contrast to the frantic scrawl you always adopt when speaking on the phone with someone.

“If he says yes, forward the call; if he says no, tell them to call back sometime next week.”

She nods, a cute frown wrinkling her forehead as she attempts to commit this knowledge to memory. You pick up your bag from the coat stand near the door, and slide on your jacket.

“I will be back in fifteen minutes, so don’t worry too much.”

“Half an hour, milaya.” Aleksander corrects you as he leans against the doorway. He nods towards your desk, “Genya.” She smiles at him. Then he turns to Alina. “Miss Starkova.”

Alina ducks her head, the pen still twirling between her fingers as she smiles rather shyly at him.

“Hello Mr Morozov.”

“Would anyone like anything getting while I’m out?” You ask, walking to your desk and picking up your mobile. After glancing at the time, you slide it into your pocket and look up at the room. Genya shakes her head.

“I’m good, thank you.” She lifts her large, refillable coffee flask, and you smile in acknowledgement. Your gaze moves to Aleksander.

“My usual, please.” You nod.

Then Alina.

“I’m okay thanks.”

“You’re sure? I’ll be passing a Starbucks or some other cafe if you want a drink?” She hesitates for another moment, but you don’t mind waiting.

“Just a Chai Tea Latte, if you don’t mind.” You nod with a smile.

“I’ll be off then.” You pull open the door, and turn back to the room. “See you in half an hour.”

Your eyes meet Aleksander’s as you say those last words, and the corner of his mouth quirks into an almost smirk. You narrow your eyes at him before you turn away and walk down the hallway towards the elevator.

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marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt

If you’d like to be added or removed from my tag list just ask!! Feel free to comment or reblog if you liked this!

[darkolai-playlist]

Reading The Language of Thorns always makes me wonder about what how a world were Ulla and Aleksander had grown together would be like.

Beautiful, clever, prideful, loyal to the point of coming undone and resentful much more after. Same height, same black hair, sharp edges and dark eyes. Same sly smiles and alluring voices.

If you look back at their stories (The Demon In The Wood and When Water Sang Fire), you'll be able to notice how their biggest issue was how deeply lonely they were. Discriminated for being different, looking strange, being too powerful or being especial. Ulla and Aleksander never had a friend before Signy and Annika. They were used to being isolated, hearing whispers and gossip. They became cold and serious to drive away the longing they felt. Maybe if they were together, if they had another soul mirroring their sorrows and their desire... But could it be truly different?

I think it's interesting to notice how both Ulla and Aleksander were betrayed by their first friends, how it happened because them both let their guards down in order to save their friends lives (or protect something dear to them). I don't blame Signy and Annika. It's just like Baghra said, they were desperate children trying to survive a cruel world. With Aleksander's bones as an amplifier, Annika could have helped his family and find a steady place for them. By helping Rolfe to betray Ulla, Signy won a position no one could deny her, made a family of her own, became a queen.

The only difference in the end was that Baghra had trained her son to survive despite his heart and Ulla remember Aleksander's warning too little too late.

I don't know if Aleksander and Ulla would be satisfied with each other as their only company. Baghra was not kind, nor gentle. She abandoned most of her children, turned Aleksander into a living weapon meant to never be stopped by his own heart. Their lives wouldn't have been easier or prettier. Aleksander would have still sought war and he would have been dragged to all that mess.

Yet, maybe their loyalty would be to each other and not other desperate girls, looking to survive. Maybe it'd be worst, the Fold would be bigger, because their magic together would be terrible and beautiful. Maybe it'd be better, because its their extreme loneliness what took them too far.

All I know is that Aleksander cared for her. He was there when she was born. He went every summer to Sondermane to wait and see if she'd appear. He answered the questions she had, even answered the ones she couldn't ask. He warned her about princes, about how power could not buy love, he never pressured her, always spoke clear and true. He must have heard about her feat, her power, but he didn't seek her out after that. Even in the end, he didn't forced her, involved her in his plans.

Ulla found in herself the strength to survive what Rolfe and Signy did to her, but it was Aleksander's words what sparked that instinct:

We are not made to please princes.

Aleksander wanted someone as immortal as him by his side and Ulla wanted company, protection. Could have that work? I don't know, but that does not keep me from thinking about it.

[steponmeinejghafa]

Beautiful Girl in a Broken World (TW)

Summary: All your life you have felt powerless against Aleksander. But when he takes things too far, you finally find your voice to stand up to him. Genya attempts to belittle herself, but you don't let her.

Genya Safin x fem!morozov!reader

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: Crying, fighting, mentions of sexual abuse, toxic parent.

Note: You're adopted, so it doesn't get weird, I swear. And I don’t remember the catacombs scene word for word, so bear with me :’) also, y/n has a certain amount of selective mutism.

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Ever since you were a child, you had been a very quiet, gentle, and agreeable person. So quiet that you could slip out of a room of three people, unnoticed. So agreeable that you would commit a crime for anyone who you held close to your heart. So gentle that you couldn't bear to even think of raising your voice at anyone who made you feel bad.

Aleksander, your father, took these abilities for granted the very moment he realised how you could benefit him.

He kept you like a secret weapon, unleashing you carefully, using your abilities to his advantage. He gifted you to the Queen as her aide and deputy lady-in-waiting. He was twisted enough to use you as bait for the King, allowing him to do as he pleased with you as long as it meant Aleksander would remain General.

You couldn't say no as his rotten lips went over your skin, you couldn't push him away, because fear for yourself froze you in place, and fear of angering your father made all reason simply vanish from your mind.

Naturally, when the King tired of you, your convoluted father gave him Genya.

Sweet Genya who talked to you every day after you both helped the Queen prepare for her evenings. Kind Genya who always made sure you weren't left alone at mealtimes or during lessons. Beautiful Genya who had all the boys after her, because of her wavy auburn hair and unique amber eyes.

You were furious to find out what he had done. Till date you can remember the white-hot fury that had coursed through your veins as Genya arrived sobbing at your room the first night the King had forced himself on her. The way your skin prickled, your body threatening to unleash unforgiving darkness upon the land as you saw the blood on her thighs and clothes.

However, you still felt guilty about how you couldn't confront Aleksander about it. Still felt angry at yourself for being powerless under his heavy, dark-eyed gaze. Still felt so hopeless because the words died in your throat that day before they could escape your lips.

"What is it now, Y/n?" He had asked as you approached him timidly the next morning.

"Father, I heard that Genya had gone to the King's rooms last night," you had said, trying not to mumble.

"Yes," he had hummed, "She is my spy, Y/n. That doesn't concern you. Your time to serve as a spy for me has passed." With a wave of his hand, he had then dismissed you from the room.

You had wanted to tear out your father's eyes, wanted to scream how could you do this to her, to me? But you couldn't.

So here you were, outside your father's chambers while he punished Genya for deserting him on the other side of the door. Tears ran down your cheeks like rivers from your eyes, as you pounded on the door with your fists, your normally quiet voice raised to a shrill shout, calling out for your father to stop, calling out to Genya to see if she was okay.

He pulled the door open sharply and caught you around the collar, dragging you inside the room.

Your heart stopped in your chest.

Genya was weeping with her head buried in her hands, kneeling on the floor, quaking with fear. Black blood seeped from between her fingers as her shaky hands tried tailoring her wounds shut. You made a move to go to her, to put your arms around her and comfort her, but Aleksander held you back.

"Keep her in the cell," he said scathingly. "Tomorrow everyone will see her face. Everyone will be reminded of the consequences if they dare to try and double-cross me."

"No!" Genya screamed. It broke your heart.

You struggled against your father's iron grip weakly. "Father, no, please don't do this, I'm begging you!"

"Silence," he said sternly, as if you were just some otkazat'sya who he couldn't bother listening to, and you did just that.

Another win for him. Typical Y/n.

"Come," he said, beckoning you to where you knew he was keeping your grandmother.

Baghra. You adored her from the moment you had met her all those years ago. She didn't show it much, but you knew she adored you back. A rare phenomenon in her case. Aleksander had imprisoned her, just to work on another amplifier so he could defeat Alina.

"Sit down," your father ordered the moment you entered the room.

"Baghra," you whispered, trying to get her to look at you. "Grandmother."

She did look at you, finally, and gave a small nod of understanding towards you.

The guards had set up a second cage beside hers, and in that, they stuffed Genya. You made a noise of protest, but it was too soft for them to hear. You made eye contact with her and your e/c irises said it all.

I'm sorry.

You hoped she wouldn't look at you with loathing, hoped she didn't hate you now. Hoped that she knew how much you loved her, and that you would try your hardest to be heard, try to be a crack of thunder in a storm instead of just a gentle breeze on an autumn evening.

She looked at you like she always had, with warmth and adoration. Her blinded eye, too, somehow held that expression. It vanished, however, the moment the Darkling looked at her.

"Put out your foot, Y/n," your father ordered. You frowned and did just that, but you didn't see the mallet coming.

Aleksander nodded at the nearby guard, who took the mallet and swung it down onto your shin, shattering the bone with a sickening 'crunch'. You felt red-hot pain sear through your body, and cried out, clutching your leg gingerly.

"Why would you do that?" You screamed, shocking everyone in the room. No one had ever heard Y/n Morozova ever raise her voice. Hell, some of them thought you were mute. "I didn't do anything!"

Aleksander gestured at a Heartrender standing at the door, ordering him to extract some of the bone shards from underneath your skin.

"Hold her down," he ordered the guards. You thrashed about as much as your pain-riddled body would allow, sobbing uncontrollably. Both with pain and betrayal.

"Aleksander, stop this madness!" Baghra exclaimed as the Heatrender readied himself to remove the shards from your leg. "She's just a child!"

"A girl of nineteen is hardly a child," said the man with as much emotion as a teabag, speaking over your cries and screams of pain, as well as Genya's pleading voice. "Her bones are as valuable as yours, since she has some Morozova blood within her, and she is thus an amplifier."

"Do I repair the rest of her leg, General Kirigan?" Asked the second Grisha who had come in with the Heartrender.

Dismissively, Aleksander nodded, and the Healer set to work. However, with the missing chunks of bone, he said, "I'm afraid she will need a cane for the time being. If the cast doesn't work and she feels pain after the next one week, it means she'll have to use the cane for the rest of her life."

"No matter," shrugged your father.

How could he?

You waited till the Healer had fixed you up as best as he could, trying your best to ignore the pain which was still very sharp in your leg.

"What in the name of the Saints do you mean 'no matter', Father?" You scowled. "Does the fact that I'm a cripple now mean nothing to you?"

"Broken things are more fragile even if you fix them," said Baghra. "You know this, Aleksander."

"Y/n," Aleksander's voice was gentle and kind. He always did this. One moment he was the best father in the world, all kind words and sweet smiles, and the next, he was a monster in a man's body, watching as a stranger shattered his daughter's legs. "Think of how powerful we would be-"

"No," you said softly.

His gaze hardened. "No?"

You shook your head, "I'm done with your games, Father. This," you nodded at your leg, "This was the last straw. I cannot walk properly anymore. You mutilated the girl I love, and put my grandmother through things far too violent to recount. I loved you, she loved you, and Genya trusted you."

He rolled his eyes. "Where are you going with this?"

You knew you couldn't attack him. It would risk unleashing the nichevoya. So you used your words instead.

"Are you so oblivious?" You whispered. "All my life I have agreed with you, done as you asked. I let a man violate me in unspeakable ways, just because I did as you asked. You have used me, you have used my Genya, and you have used Baghra. You are a disgusting man, Aleksander Morozova. A disgusting man, son, father, and general.

Did you feel nothing when I came to you with blood on my nightgown, crying about the King? Did you feel nothing, when I said I didn't want Genya playing your spy?" Your eyes brimmed with tears. "Did you feel nothing when that guard smashed my leg and broke it like a stick?"

"Sacrifices for power," he sighed. "You are too young to understand."

"Age and eternity have made you emotionless," you shook your head. "They have stripped you of your ability to love, to cherish, to feel. You sacrifice to fill that void, you sacrifice because you know that alone, with your sins, you are not enough."

You felt fear seize your body when he caught you by the collar again and threw you nearly clean across the room.

"Learn your place, girl," he seethed. "I am your father. Never speak to me that way again."

You struggled to get to your feet, leaning against the nearby wall. Anger kept within for too long bubbled up within you, heating up into white-hot fury.

"My place, Father, isn't something you can dictate. This isn't Fjerda, this isn't the medieval times. I am a woman, a girl, a daughter. I have stayed silent for too long, letting you do with me, with others, as you please," you clenched your fists, darkness cloaking the room threateningly. "So, Father, do you ever want to say you're sorry? Will you try to make amends? Try to be a better person?"

"Quite the speech," he raised a brow. "But I am powerful, and no one will stop me from getting my Summoner. Especially not you."

He took you by the arm firmly and led you out, not caring that you were limping and hopping terribly. Genya cried out for you, begging him to be gentle, but with no avail.

"Stay in your room," he seethed, shoving you inside your room none too gently. "I have business to attend to."

You waited till he closed the door, and collapsed on your bed, screaming bloody murder into the pillow as you cried.

--Time Skip--

Night had fallen, and till then only one guard had knocked on your door to give you food.

"Cripple," he spat in Ravkan, making you nearly use the Cut on him in anger.

Your father hadn't returned yet from his twisted expedition, and you decided it was high time you broke your best friend and grandmother out of jail.

You knew that the guards deserted your corridor at exactly nine-thirty for patrol rounds. Quietly, or at least as quietly as you possibly could be, you snuck down the corridor to the room where you knew they were.

You slipped inside the room, and knelt in front of Genya's cage, breaking the lock with all your strength. It was rusty from lack of use, and came apart with the barest of snaps.

She avoided your gaze and covered her face with a hand, shrinking away from your touch. She didn't want you to see her this way. You found it odd, but shrugged it off. Naturally she wouldn't want to see you. You were the Darkling's daughter. She had no business looking at you the same.

"Please, get yourself to safety," you said quietly, moving away from her.

You felt hurt that she seemed to think you were like your father, that she seemed to fear you just as she feared him. You turned to Baghra's cage and broke the lock as well, feeling a little twinge of happiness on seeing her smile slightly.

You knelt in front of her like a knight would kneel before his King, ignoring the pain in your leg, and said, "I'm sorry for how my father has treated you. I'm willing to pay for his sins, I swear on it."

Baghra touched your shoulders gently, prompting you to rise. "Don't take accountability for Aleksander's sins, child. This was his choice, and he must pay for it. You are not defined by his actions, because you have proved time and again that you have tried your best to rebel against him."

You scoffed a laugh, helping her up. "I can hardly call cowering and giving unheard suggestions 'rebellion'."

"You'll understand what I mean with time, my dear," smiled the woman. She looked at Genya, who had laid waste to the table, save the bottle of amplifier which she now held in her hand.

You three escaped just barely, because your limp slowed them down. You apologised profusely along the way, and when they paused for a rest, you scoured for a branch which could double as a cane for you temporarily. When you did, walking became a thousand times easier. The entire journey, Genya didn't speak to you or look at you. Whenever you moved close to her, she'd scurry farther down the path, muttering to herself.

'I'm not like him,' you wanted to say. 'I'm in love with you, Genya, I'd never do anything to hurt you.'

But of course, the words didn't come.

Finally, you three came upon the hideout where everyone was. Genya was tackled in a hug by Alina, while you hung back, standing behind Baghra timidly. You knew you wouldn't be welcome there.

"Baghra," Alina said with relief, moving over to her. However, the second she did, the woman moved forwards to reveal your quietly standing figure.

Disgust painted everyone's faces and you saw people draw weapons, or, in the case of the Grisha, put their hands up defensively.

You didn't say anything.

Alina's piercing gaze was enough to make you want to shrink into the walls, and you nearly cowered with fright when she readied herself to attack.

"Alina," you were shocked as Genya spoke up. "She's harmless, don't worry."

"She's about as harmless as a viper," scowled the girl.

“Alina, trust me, she’s not like him,” said the redhead. “She’s the opposite.”

You put your hands up in surrender and shook your head, "I-I'm nothing like my father, I swear."

"I vouch for that," Baghra said with a nod.

"Fine," sighed Alina. She nodded at your leg, "How'd that happen?"

You cleared your throat and willed yourself to speak louder. "My father. He smashed my bone with a mallet to use as an amplifier."

"Saints," she scoffed, "That man is a psychopath. Tamar," she looked at the Heartrender, "Please see to it that she has a proper cane, and do help ease the pain a bit."

"T-thank you," you stammered, nervous of the girl who's eyes were no more scathingly trained on you. They were soft with concern, as she smiled slightly and nodded.

"Come on then," the Shu girl grinned, taking you by the arm gently. "Let's get you patched up better."

You nodded and followed her out, while Genya went to tend to Adrik.

Twenty minutes of excruciating pain later, your leg was mostly healed, but given the way it had been broken, they said there was close to no chance for your complete recovery.

A Fabrikator named Viktor fashioned a cane for you from the branch you were using. It was jet black, of course, with an intricate design of roses etched into the wood from the handle till the bottom which had a cap of silver on it.

You thanked him and Tamar smiled at you.

“Truly, you are unlike your father,” she said.

You blushed shyly and softly replied, “I’ve never found cruelty to be my area of expertise.”

Tamar patted your arm and helped you up, making sure you were putting your weight on the cane and not your leg.

You went to check on Genya, who, upon seeing you, fled from where she was sitting in front of Adrik, helping heal his hand.

“G-Genya?” You called out after her, your voice barely raised at all as you limped after her with as much speed as your leg would allow. “Please wait a moment, please.”

You both stopped dead in your tracks, when you ran into the Queen.

“You!” She gasped. “Guards! Guards!” She cried out, looking around frantically for them, her pale hair fluttering around her face.

She caught Genya by the wrist and seethed, “You both will pay for what you did! You monsters!”

“Please-please leave her be,” you pleaded, limping closer to the Queen, resisting the urge to beat her senseless with your new cane.

“Well,” she glared at Genya, “At least now you look like what you truly are,” she turned to you, “And you deserve to be crippled, you repulsive girl.”

“I-“ you faltered. You deserved it, didn’t you? You tried not to cry, as you gathered your thoughts, saying, “Please let her go,”

Genya yanked her arm out of the Queen’s grip, having had enough.

“Ask me how I did it,” she said, with venom in her voice. “How we did it.”

Your heart leapt. She mentioned you in passing, that was good. Perhaps she didn’t hate you after all.

“What?” The woman was baffled.

“Ask. Me.” Genya said forcefully. The queen made a nod as if to ask, and the redhead continued, “Y/n made the poison. She wanted her revenge anyway. So, I put it on my body, for weeks. So that every time he touched me, every time,” her voice lowered to a hesitant whisper, “he kissed me, he would take a little bit into himself.”

“All he had to do was stop coming to her bed,” you softly added in.

Seething, the woman replied, “He was your King,”

“He brought it on himself,” Genya spat.

“He took advantage of innocent girls, girls who couldn’t fight back, because he was our King,” you limped forward to stand beside Genya, mustering up courage to look the Queen in the eye. “It was because he was our King, we were terrified to speak. Because no one would’ve believed us. And even if they did, they couldn’t do anything about it. So do you blame us, your Highness, can you blame us, for taking matters into our own hands?”

“Oh? The Darkling’s mute little puppet girl speaks,” scoffed the queen, making you shrink back with shame. That tone stung you hard. Where they never took you seriously, where people only saw you as a pushover who had no voice. “You both are monsters, murderers.”

“Madraya,” Nikolai’s smooth voice was a saving grace in this fight.

“Nikolai! You heard them, arrest these murderers!” She said, looking at her son.

He looked horrified. “No,” he shook his head. “Not after what I heard.” He looked at her with disbelief on his features. “Both of them were under your protection.”

“They are servants,” she scoffed in disgust. “And the cripple is a puppet for the enemy!”

“And you, the Mother of Ravka,” he said. “Your subjects were to be like your children. All of them,” he placed a hand on your shoulder and brought you forward. Your eyes stayed riveted on the ground. “And Y/n? Just by being here, she has shown that she is no puppet for the Darkling.”

The Queen huffed and flounced off, skirts billowing around her as she did.

“Thank you,” you nodded and moved back, when Genya turned to leave.

“I’m sorry,” said Nikolai.

“It’s not your fault,” said Genya, as she walked away.

You limped after her, calling out her name in vain. However, you cornered her at last in her rooms.

“Saints,” you panted, your leg aching horribly. You leaned your cane against a wall and tried catching your breath. “Saints, that hurts.”

“Y/n, please leave,” she said, packing up a bag for herself.

“No!” You said, annoyed. She looked at you at last. “No, Genya, I won’t leave.”

"Why not?" She scoffed. "Look at me, Y/n."

"I always am," you said. "I am always looking at you, Genya."

"Are you, now?" She laughed drily. "Honestly, Y/n, you don't have to pity me, alright? We aren't on the same boat, if that's waht your thinking."

"I have always thought we were oceans apart, Genya. With you all confidence and kindness, while I shrank away from the slightest word spoken to me," you said, your e/c eyes shining in the dim light, making it look like they had stars in them. "But that didn't stop me from loving you."

She looked at you incredulously, "Loving me?"

"Yes," you smiled, limping over to her hesitantly. "Since the day we met, I never stopped loving you. And this day is no diffferent. Scars or no scars, you, Genya Safin, are stronger than Grisha steel, and more beautiful than anyone I have ever encountered. You are a beautiful girl in a broken world, and-and if anything, your scars make you more beautiful in my eyes. It would be my honour to say that I am yours, Genya."

She stepped closer to you, taking your hands in hers. "Can you bear waking up to a scarred old face beside yours every morning?"

"It isn't something to bear, because burdens and problems are what we bear. This is no problem. It is a trophy, a symbol of your victory and strength, my Genya," you smiled. "I understand if you wouldn't want me, though."

"Why wouldn't I want you?" She asked. You were too oblivious, in her opinion. Had you forgotten the nights you both slept together, wrapped up in each other's embrace? The times she'd kiss your forehead to make you feel better? The times she hadn't denied it when people asked her if you and her were a thing?

"I am a cripple now, Genya," you accepted it with a shake of your head. "You protect and care enough for people. I don't need you doing that for me, because it would just add on to your own personal burdens.”

Genya came closer to you, taking your hands in hers. Her seeing eye was a deep gold in the dim light—a shard of the setting sun sparkling with love.

“Have you never noticed that I am in love with you?” she asked, making your heart leap. “Do you know how many times I’ve kissed your forehead, wishing it was your lips? Wishing that we could embrace with just the sheets between our bodies?”

“Um…” you felt yourself lean on her palms slightly. “Sorry,” you nodded at her hands clasping yours a little tighter now, with the weight on them. “But why did you run from me?”

“Don’t be sorry,” she smiled sadly. “I ran because I thought that you would find me ruined now, with this.” She touched her fingers gingerly to her scars.

“Never,” you shook your head, shifting your weight to put more on your good leg, so you could hold her face in your hands. “My Genya, you should never think you aren’t the most gorgeous woman on the face of this planet, because Saints alive, I have never seen a woman so kind, loving, and caring as you. It shows on your face, and it only makes you more breathtaking.”

In the dim light, you saw her blush, just the barest dust of pink under her skin.

“That’s probably the most you’ve spoken in your whole life,” chuckled the redhead, leaning into your touch. It startled you, and in turn, made you blush a rather unsubtle red.

“I-um,” you tried pushing out the words which wanted to leave your lips so desperately, but all you could do as she stepped closer to you was exhale softly, “Genya…”

“That’s the first time you’ve said my name that way,” she smiled, looking up at you slightly as her hands rested on your waist. Her gaze skirted down to your lips and to your eyes as she asked, “May I?”

Your heart leapt, the words struggled again. You nodded wordlessly and she tilted her head up, pressing her slightly dry yet soft lips on yours. The words came again as you both stood there in the dingy underground room, just kissing.

Your heart pounded in your chest, your thumbs stroking her cheeks as you prayed to all the Saints that your palms weren’t sweating. You wanted this moment to last, this first kiss to extend into forever. The world faded around you, the panic of your father’s attack, the fear you felt in front of the Queen, all forgotten as you focused on Genya.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

The words didn’t come, they failed you again. But you didn’t mind this time.

You smiled against her lips, and kept your e/c eyes riveted on her as she pulled away, her face finally cracking into a large, bubbly grin.

You let your hands fall from her face and held her hands in yours, trying not to giggle.

“Did we just do that?” She asked.

Wordlessly, you nodded, folding your lips into your mouth as a loud, childlike giggle threatened to escape your lips.

She leaned up to kiss your cheek and whispered in your ear, “Perhaps we could work on your voice sometime?”

“Um,” you nodded your head and asked, “Would-would you help me?”

“Of course, Y/n,” she smiled.

“I-I’ll speak a hundred words a minute for-for you,” you said, out of breath suddenly. “It will just take some time…”

“We have all the time in the world, my love,” she brushed her thumb gently over your bottom lip, causing a shudder to go down your spine.

You took her hand and kissed it gently, before pressing another kiss to her cheek where her longer scar was.

“All the time in the world,” you repeated with a smile.

She nodded and took your hand, holding it while you grabbed your cane and the both of you walked out of the room, back to where the others were.

As the torchlight cast long shadows on the wall, and you sat beside her silently while the others gave strategies on their next move.

Ever so often you would glance at Genya, who wore a thoughtful look on her face. The dim torchlight fell from behind her, highlighting her profile in gold.

‘Why have you condemned her to suffer such hardships?’ You silently asked the Saints. ‘Why do you make every effort to make her suffer?’

The answer was a simple one, which you could practically hear those damned Saints reply.

Because fate isn’t kind to those who have beauty like hers.

Because she is a beautiful girl in a broken world.

———————————————————————

This one was so sad to write- but I hope you enjoyed it! I am accepting requests, so feel free to send over an anonymous idea or send me a dm <3

[chaoticcollectivenightmare]

Modern! Grishaverse AU Question

[darklinaforever]

Ideas for my fanfiction of Grisha / Shadow and Bone :

- Use an external point of view, rather than Alina's internal point of view.

- Keep Alina half Shu, and that this aspect is exploited. (Idea of discussions with Botkins, Tolya & Tamar in particular)

- That we have clear information on the countries of Shu Han and Fjerda.

- The characters are all in their twenties.

- Use good Russian language.

- Zlatan still exists for part 1. (Novokribirsk still covered by the Fold therefore)

- Assuming Baghra is a toxic teacher and mother. Draw a parallel between her and Ana Kuya for the Darkling and Alina characters and their relationship.

- Maybe keep Baghra's eyes gouged out ? (Give me your opinion)

- That the story with Mal and Alina is a secondary element. Assuming that she is toxic, and that subsequently Alina succeeds in detaching herself from it to take her independence and be herself without anything holding her back. They can still remain friends in the end.

- Highlight Mal's grief and trauma at the death of his friends near the borders of Fjerda. (No because in the book it goes over the top)

- Keep (and improve) the Genya and Alina friendship.

- Make Darkling and Alina the main relationship of the trilogy. Highlight their Yin and Yang dynamics. Particularly supporting the fact that Alina could possibly become like the Darkling, and that the Darkling was like Alina, was a time. Show their ideologies come into explicit conflict, that there is a real moral debate. Showing Alina actually trying to find more peaceful methods than the Darkling's far more radical way of trying to help the Grisha.

- Reflection on the blow of the war.

- Explain why and how the Darkling created the Fold. (Keep it like an accident, an act born out of desperation)

- Develop the psychic connection between the Darkling and Alina. Let them have talks instead of the Darkling just appearing to follow Alina around silently.

- That Alina discovers in part the childhood and the past of the Darkling, in particular through dreams, thanks to their connection.

- Show that Alina cares about the grisha, and to stop the wars.

- That the Darkling has a "redemption" arc.

- Darklina ending together, Tsar and Tsarina of Ravka at the end.

- Darklina happy with many children (girls) in the epilogue, and are powerful rulers, tough but fair.

- That the situation of the Grisha (in the world) and the people of Ravka has changed for the better in the end.

- That the study of the Grisha at the small palace (and purely the study aspect, and no longer the military apprenticeship aspect) is revealed to have become mandatory in the epilogue.

- Give it to Alina from the agency. That she seeks / wants the amplifiers herself.

- May Alina grow politically and personally. (She understands that for the greater good, sacrifices must be made. She gains self-confidence, becomes more active and independent)

- Give Alina a corruption arc. That she develops a dark side, and a kind of greed for power in Part 2.

- Support the fact that Alina's destiny is not to destroy the Fold, because this is before a propaganda idea.

- No love ambiguity between Nikolai and Alina, just a strong friendship.

- To show Alina actually / seriously considering Nikolai's marriage proposal, in order to contribute to helping/improving the country.

- Show the duality / resemblance between the Darkling and Nikolai.

– In the end, Nikolai agrees to abdicate /refuse the crown, in favor of Alina and the Darkling, agreeing to work for them and be part of the council.

- That other characters are aware of Ravka's other overriding issues, without blaming the Darkling, and sincerely wish to address them in the future.

- May Genya never get scars.

- Keep Ivan alive. (Seriously, it promised to be so interesting)

- That Ivan and Fedyor are, as in the series, gay and in a relationship. (Because they were cute)

- Developing the idea of ​​creating Morozova amplifiers from Merzost. (Because it's not developed at all in the trilogy, and it's a point that makes me particularly curious)

- Support the fact that Morozova's amplifiers are intended for Alina, and that the Darkling offers them to her, because he perceives her as his soul mate, and that she is therefore an integral part of the Morozova family.

- Further develop secondary characters, such as : Genya, David, Ivan, Fedyor, Zoya, Tolya and Tamar.

- Develop a little more the couple Tamar and Nadia.

- David and Genya end up happy.

- Romance Zoyalaï suggested along part 2 and 3, then confirmed at the end. See what becomes of them in the epilogue.

- Let the pageantry be doomed at the end of part 3.

- Mal remains the firebird, but with better explanations.

- Scenes between Mal and the Darkling.

- That Ulla is named in the story / that her existence is recognized, without her being included in the story itself.

- The Fold is not destroyed (or at least not immediately ?), but used as a weapon to protect Ravka ? (I'm absolutely not sure about this point. If people have any suggestions, I'm all ears !)

- Mal snaps his farm at the end, or else opens an orphanage himself ? (Give me your opinion)

- Insinuation that Mal got close (romanticly) to Ruby in the end.

A quote idea :

« He did not give up his name. You took it from him. » - Alina Starkova, to Bagrah Morozova.

The (maybe) proglogue :

The girl was not afraid of the dark.

Darkness was a refuge. Especially when she was hiding to escape Ana Kuya's admonitions.

In those moments, she chose dark corners. Behind a curtain. In the attic. A closet.

She stayed hidden until Ana Kuya forgot about her and her anger.

When night fell, the girl could escape the meanness of the other children in the orphanage.

But his nights were short and restless.

So, when she woke up, she looked at the sky through a window. She observed the stars, and especially the moon. Sometimes there was just darkness, and she would watch it too, until she fell asleep again, or not.

The girl had always been weak. She was pale and thin.

Not pretty.

That was what Ana Kuya was saying.

Her Shu eyes betrayed her origins, and she was rejected for it.

The face of the enemy.

This is what the children kept saying. She had no friends.

Until the day the boy arrived.

He was nice to her. He was defending her. And over time, they got close.

Friends.

He was like the brother she never had. The only person in this world who seemed to really care about her.

A family.

But it was not enough. She didn't know why, nothing was enough.

The girl had always felt incomplete. As if she was missing a part of herself, there, in her heart.

She felt alone.

But the boy was helping her to make her feel less alone.

He was there for her, and she was there for him.

It was their promise.

So... The day when the woman and the man dressed in Kefta arrived at the orphanage to test the children, they hid in the meadow.

The girl didn't want to know if she was Grisha. It didn't matter to her. She didn't want to lose what she had with the boy.

But Ana Kuya ends up finding them.

When it was her turn to be tested, the girl felt something stir inside her. Something that begged to come out. But the boy called out his name. Again and again, from the other side of the door.

The girl hesitated. Her heart sank.

Unconsciously or consciously, she did not know, the girl held back. She prevented this thing that was pulsing against her skin from coming out. Refusing to answer the call.

The answer then fell. She was not Grisha.

Suddenly, the girl felt her heart lighten. But not so much for her as for the boy. The girl, in truth, wasn't sure how she felt.

The girl and the boy continued to grow up together, and she was happy about it.

Time passed, and she finally forgot the strange feeling that had assailed her at the time of the test. Years went by, and she still felt incomplete.

A tiny void in her, asking to be filled.

Sometimes, despite the boy's presence, the girl felt devoured by loneliness.

By the lack.

By this inexplicable void.

In those moments, to lighten her heart, she played with the rays of the sun with her fingertips.

As if she could grab them...

But it was not enough.

So, from time to time, despite the sun that lit the meadow...

The girl locked herself in the dark.

Extracts :

N°1 :

Her bony, charcoal-covered hands stopped maneuvering on the wind-crumpled paper, her eyes moving to a specific spot straight ahead.

Towards the Shadow Fold.

This immense black mass… This scourge which some were convinced would never be overcome. This black scar which had split the country in two and deprived the kingdom of Ravka of its only coasts, transforming it into an enclave. This non-sea that frightens so many… Filled with man-eating monsters.

A place that had stolen so much life. Rendered so many children, like her once, orphans…

Orphan.

This word sounded like a wound to her.

From an early age, he had been taught to fear the Fold. Easy with the Volcras inside. The little representation she had seen of it in the books of Keramzin's library was still enough to give her nightmares. Huge creatures, with sharp wings and fangs, capable of lacerating you with their claws with a simple movement.

The Fold ate your parents.

Ana Kuya's words echoed in her head as if it were yesterday… As she discovered the Fold for the first time through one of the many maps she was drawing herself today.

The Fold is an abomination, she had heard countless times. A mistake of nature. A scar on the map…

Literally.

But since she had joined the first army and seen with her own eyes what had haunted Ravka for centuries… Fear had given way to a completely different feeling.

Fascination.

When she approached the Fold, or even just looked at it, as now, the cartographer experienced this stinging sensation of being crushed by an unknown weight.

She seemed feel a multitude of emotions.

Anger.

Sadness.

Anguish.

And especially… Despair.

A despair that seemed to her deep, unshakable and endless.

Her heart sank every time these emotions raced through her. And she didn't know why. Sometimes tears welled up in her and she had to hold herself back to keep them from running down her cheeks, wiping them away with the back of her hand.

It made no sense… Yet it was there.

She must be crazy ! But maybe she felt this because the Fold had brought many misfortunes ? Upset so much life ?

The Fold was born out of madness and caused suffering. Not the opposite. Or maybe if… ? She shook her head. Maybe she was just too emotional ?

When she looked at the Fold, his heart hurting her. Terribly hurt.

And sometimes… Sometimes it was just like she was listening to someone's laments…

Those times were the worst.

N°2 :

« So cartographers, listen to me ! » Sergeant Yure Teplov shouted from the front of the boat. « Until we get there, stay at your posts. Under no circumstances leave the Skiff during the crossing ! »

Alina silently listened to the safety instructions, her gaze fixed straight ahead in the direction of the Fold. Black tendrils seemed to glide around him, constantly twisting and snaking as if trying to ensnare anything that approached…

Alina felt a searing, deep sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach as the Skiff slowly accelerated towards her.

This may have been the last time she stood in the sunlight…

Her heart was beating nervously in her chest as she tried to stabilize her breathing, swallowing her saliva. But she couldn't bring herself to look away from the twisting shadows before her…

She was so focused that she didn't notice the gust of wind that grabbed her scarf and pulled it away from her neck. Frantically, she turned to try to catch it, but it slipped through his fingers, the blue and gold piece of cloth already flying away from her, past the landing pad.

That's where she saw her.

A silhouette in the distance… A dark silhouette.

A man, she guessed. A man entirely dressed in black, whose cape fluttered in the wind, and who watched the Skiff move away.

Alina could not accurately describe what she felt at that moment.

It was as if his heart stopped beating for a moment before starting again, more alive than ever, on a different rhythm, unreal. There was a tug on his chest, like some sort of tether that was screaming at him to come closer. But she couldn't, and something inside her was itching.

She felt caught up, captivated by the sketch of this character that she would have liked to immortalize with pencil strokes.

Time seemed to slow down, that single moment stretching into a thousand more.

It was strange, invigorating and exhilarating.

And then, as suddenly as that feeling had washed over her, it disappeared as the world was entirely engulfed in darkness…

N°3 :

They entered the Fold.

And everything was dark. Dark and silent. It was almost like sailing through a cloud of smoke, except there was no heat or smell of fire. It was cold, and the rest of the world seemed to have disappeared, every sound from outside simply muffled by the shadows.

It was like being plunged into a cold, dangerous and eternal night…

The bow of the Skiff could no longer be seen, or even most of the passengers. Everyone held their breath, trying to master their fear. The darkness was never more frightening than when monsters inhabited it… Silence reigned, everyone on the lookout for the slightest flapping of wings.

As for Alina, she stood minutely aside, still in her position, forcing herself to stand on her trembling legs. It was too much. Too strong. Too stuffy. All these emotions that invaded her threatened to make her collapse.

She was mad at herself for having the stupid impulse to burn the Ravka-West maps. Pained for having condemned his colleagues to follow her, and anguished for what this long, very long crossing will or will not reserve for them. But worst of all, she was desperate. Desperate to get out of it, and to act as if nothing had happened. Desperate to be back in Ravka-East already and to resume the course of his usual schedule:

Laugh and have fun with Mal. Draw maps with Alexis. Put up with scathing remarks from Raisa and many more.

But something was wrong. It was all too striking. Violent. As if those emotions weren't fully his own. As if entering the Fold triggered them.

Did the others feel that too ? Or was she the only one ?

Worst of all, a burning feeling of loneliness invaded her, and she couldn't define it.

Loneliness…

She had never felt it while looking at the Fold, as if this feeling was the most buried of all. Buried in the heart of the misty monster, below the surface.

N°4 :

His position gave him an excellent view of the Skiff's slow approach towards the looming mass of shadows that formed the edge of the Fold. He took a heavy breath. This Skiff had every interest in returning intact. Its fabricators had spent months there, an opportunity to finally somewhat satisfy the king's wishes.

The Skiff was more than halfway out of the no sea, when a flutter caught his attention, snapping him out of his thoughts. A blue and gold scarf had apparently been caught in the strong winds of his Squallers and was now drifting straight in his direction. Judging the distraction unimportant, he looked back at the Skiff. And while the latter was only a few dozen meters from the Fold…

The world seemed to slow down.

There was something on his chest, and that thing, so sudden, wrapped tightly around his heart, constricting it for a moment before pulling it forward. The pull he felt was so strong he almost tripped. He put his hand to his chest, flabbergasted. He couldn't accurately describe what he felt at that moment.

He straightened his spine, his thoughts struggling to try to make sense of what he was feeling. He considered, then dismissed the idea that it was the work of a Heartrender. During his long life, he had been victim to their power several times, and what he felt was nothing like the work of a corporalki.

No. It was as if his heart had stopped beating for a moment before starting up again, more alive than ever, on a different rhythm, unreal ; bringing him both a feeling of fullness and lack he had never experienced before.

The tightness in his chest, like some sort of tie wrapped around his heart, tightened again. Stronger than before, to the point that something inside him itched. And this time, he realized exactly which way she seemed to be pulling him.

Towards Skiff.

There was something important on that ship. Although he didn't know what it could be, his subconscious begged, screamed for the Skiff to come back. But it was useless. The Skiff had already reached the edge of the Fold, that single moment stretching into a thousand more, and within seconds it was swallowed up by darkness…

He remained frozen on the quay, his gaze still fixed on the place where the Skiff had disappeared. A moment passed, then another, and he took a shaky breath, still trying to figure out what had just happened.

The sensation had vanished along with the ship, and he now felt strangely empty…

He didn't know exactly how long it was before he noticed the curious gazes lingering on him, and he realized that he had stayed much longer than usual. Obviously, he had lost track of time.

Regaining control of his limbs, he forced himself to turn away, his path on the platform crossing that of an abandoned scarf.

He stopped himself.

It was the one that had flown in his direction when the Skiff left. He didn't know why, but he bent down to take the garment in his hands, examining it carefully.

The sewing work was clumsy, the embroidery and the fabric very simple. Probably it belonged to a young soldier.

He delicately ran his fingers along the golden patterns before folding the scarf and putting it in one of his pockets, naturally resuming his way to his tent to finally cut himself off from the prying eyes of the members of the first army.

Conclusion :

So... I don't know if anyone is going to read, or has read all of this, but if so thank you ! And your opinions are welcome !

[confusedbookworm]

What if the amplifiers responded and obeyed Aleksander because he is Ilya’s blood?

No matter how much Alina tries to claim them, they’ll always respond to Morozova’s blood more.

[vorbarrsultana]

darknikolina won again

[wiwiurikawa]

if I had a nickel for every time my mlm ship possesed eachother I'd have two nickels. which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happend twice.

[ohdeadlynightshades]

Thinking about Shadow Summoner Ulla & her little brother, Aleksander.

Baghra trying to send Ulla away so she can properly shape her youngest to become exactly who she wants him to be, but in order to do that she must be the only one in his life... But Ulla knows her mother (eldest daughter syndrome) and refuses to let her brother suffer in her hands like she suffered.

Aleksander growing up with his big sister and finally knowing love and acceptance. Ulla becoming the first one to take the Darkling name and Aleksander following her footsteps...

[thereisnolumos]

If I had a dollar every time a Ben Barnes’ character told the truth about the darker parts of everyone’s soul coming to the light, and been ridiculed and punished for it, only for the supposed hero to turn and indulge in their darkness a moment later, I would have 2 dollars.

Which isn’t much, but it’s weird that it happened twice.

[stromuprisahat]

I've just finished Demon on the Wood- the comics. It took me over a month, and still I feel sick. I'm not sure how I feel about expansion of Annika and Aleksander's time together, but it doesn't bother me, although I can't put into words how it changes resulting impression.

I'll post some parts later, because there are whole chunks I think deserve special attention, yet I haven't seen them around yet. And while I can't but praise the book, I don't want to look at it again rn.