#aleksling

[sanktasolntse-a]

@aleksling​​ asked : ( sms ) : i got a code red situation.

[ text : aleksander ] you and i don’t have a code system, what’s a code red ????

[ text : aleksander ] is mal okay did something happen to him

[ text : aleksander ] if it doesn’t involve mal or your mom i don’t care

[lovegrisha]

anonymous said… the amount of depth that @aleksling puts into his portrayal of the darkling is INSANE! you can really feel the pain that the darkling goes through, but he also doesn't tone down that horrible side of him that comes forth more often than not. there's so much headcanon work behind the scenes and every ounce of love has been put into that blog. when i think of the darkling, i think of isaac's blog instantly.

[iinmortales-archive]

          the fold destroyed, cries of sankta alina heard where ever she went. people reached out to her, asking for her blessing. they even reached out to aleksander, though fear of him still kept most of them at bay. and yet-- ‘ the grisha are still being used as tools for the palace. ‘ playthings for the king. powerful as ever, but still seen as lesser. her steps were soft, but movements insistent as she came to stand beside him, one arm around his back. ‘ what do we do now? ‘

@aleksling​

[lamnta-arc]

          @aleksling​    sent          :          ❛    being  this  godly  can’t  be  good  for  me .    ❜                                           (          𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐊𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑    𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐙𝐎𝐕𝐀          )

𝑯𝑼𝑴𝑶𝑹   𝑺𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑲𝑺 ,    though   briefly,    at   the   strength   of   such   a   proclamation      ;      it   could   have   been   received   as   plaintive,    perhaps,    if   lancelot   had   not   memorized   the   vigor   in   which   he   pursued   such   things.      one   must   know   their   enemy,    yes,    but   that   knowledge   remains   long   after   such   tensions   ascend   into   something   stronger.      something   kinder.      a   smile   warms   the   corners   of   his   lips   as   he   sighs .               ❝      no,   i   don’t   think   it   is      . . .      it   rots   you ,      ❞               he   says   simply,    empty   of   any   judgment   or   bitterness.      it's   one   of   many   empty   truths      —      power   breeds   corruption,    sparks   a   breaking   from   the   soul.      𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃   𝐈𝐒   𝐀   𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄.      to   be   divine   is   to   be   crucified,    anguished   and   exiled.      shadowed   gaze   flickers   upwards   to   drink   in   his   form,    bearing   little   beyond   weathered   honesty .                  ❝      though   i   suspect   you   would   not   stop   even   if   it   did .      ❞

𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛   𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎   𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎   𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍   𝚏𝚊𝚛   𝚝𝚘𝚘   𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐   𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛   𝚝𝚘   𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛   𝚒𝚝 .

lancelot   rises   and   steps   forward   to   meet   the   endless,    dark   expanse   of   his   gaze.               ❝      that   much   is   true,    isn't   it ?      you   have   hidden   your   death   in   your   godhood,    lost   the   mortality   that   tethered   you   to   your   people .      ❞               twinge   of   aching.      his   laughter   comes   warm   and   hollow   just   the   same,    newfound   familiarity   in   a   man   his   opposite .

        ❝      i   suppose   that   makes   us   the   same    —    both   grisha   and   not   grisha.      both   human   and   inhuman.      different ,    regardless   of   our   ties .      ❞

[seesgood]

she’s a mess by the time she trudges back to him. the wind has died down. the remains of a few soldiers lay smoldering a few feet away. she’s got mud caked to her shoes and blood spattered across her face and that’s not even mentioning the wreck that her hair is. --- suffice to say, the glare she gives him is beyond warranted. and of course, there he stands. ( looms. looms is a much better suited description for how he is. )  as put together as he was when they first stepped outside the palace walls. hardly a hair out of place. barely a speckle of mud on his cloak. it only makes caroline glare harder.  ❝ it’s done. ❞  the guilt, she’s sure, will settle in later. taking lives is never easy. but when it comes down to it, it’s kill or be killed. and she’d much rather the former. and then comes the hard part. he’ll want to know their own body count.  ❝ two infernis and one squaller. ❞  her gaze assesses him once more, molars biting down on her tongue as she tells herself ( again ) that not everyone finds her sharp tongue charming. and he could just as easily find another heartrender to put on his personal detail. not one as talented, but...  ❝ but thank the saints your cloak remains unharmed, i can’t imagine what we would have done. ❞          /       b   @aleksling​   +   here’s the snark you ordered ! 

[zcldrizes-a]

» plotted starter in grishaverse : @aleksling​

TRUST, HE’D PLACED IN HER – AND SO EAGERLY TAKEN by admirer who offered him naught but respect, Simple task, a delivery of information on his behalf ( and her own presence requested if only for firepower that otherwise may have lacked without her there ), days of horseback riding rendering her far from home. Attack had come without warning in the dead of night, the storm holding her flames back from their usual bite – nothing to stop the beasts who had taken her from binding her so very helplessly, companions left in pools of blood on the ground with slit throats, sooner dead than taken captive. She envies them, she thinks, even as petite frame is manhandled ; rain washes away tracking, and as they call her WITCH and pledge promises of her fate, she thinks she might feel true fear for the first time since her brother.

It does not take her long to lose track of the time that passes.

Bonds remain on smaller body as larger hands haul her along to waiting ship, and she’s exhausted as they all but drag her along – perhaps ship might not be the fastest way to wherever they’re taking her, but they’re convinced it’s the only way to avoid attention ( after all, most of the world knows the Grisha by now ) and even with the brutal state of these lands, a bound woman in the company of men is not so easily missed.

Bruises linger on aching flesh from the many times she’s tried to run, as gaze falls upon ship before her – the bindings threatening to give way to harsher chains and shackles, and the Gods know what to come.

For all the fire in her veins, there’s no spark to ignite the inferno that might otherwise save her from such fate.

[livingprophecy]

MEOW MEOW

[alyafae-a]

❝ wait a moment [ ... ]  yes and no.   the ... the answer isn’t that simple. ❞

@aleksling​ .     the darkling   &.   david   |