Request: Please do “You can’t love anyone. ‘Cause that would mean you had a heart.” with the darkling from Shadow & Bone series. Requested by anon.
Warnings: slight violence, mention of torture, emotional manipulation, angst.
Word Count: 1 K.
Fictober Challenge
Just as you were about to close your eyes and give up from being brutally tortured, you saw a bright light flood through the door of your cell. You raised a weak hand to shield your eyes, wincing at the sudden brightness. Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the light dimmed.
“Did you miss me?” a familiar voice asked, smooth and taunting. No, this couldn’t be real. It couldn’t possibly be him. You blinked, your vision still blurry, and there he was- Alexander, squatting before you with that signature smirk playing on his lips.
“You’re dead. I saw to it myself” you spat, your voice hoarse, eyes narrowing as you glared at him.
His smirk only deepened, a glint of amusement in his dark eyes “And what if I am?” he leaned forward, fingers reaching to brush your face, but you turned your head sharply to the side, recoiling from his touch.
“Does that mean I’m dead too?” you asked, your glare never leaving him.
“No” he said as he rose to his full height, his tone turning cold “But you will be soon” he began pacing around the cramped cell, his steps deliberate, calculated. “It’s just a matter of time.”
You kept your eyes on him, your heart pounding despite the weariness pulling at you “What are you doing here?”
He stopped, glancing back at you with a cocky drin that made your stomach twist “I guess you still need me, even in your darkest hour.”
“I don’t need you” you scoffed, though the weakness in your voice betrayed you “You’re dead and I’ve been doing fine on my own.”
He raised an eyebrow, the grin never leaving his face “Have you? Look at you” his gaze swept over you, his voice dripping with disdain. “You disappoint me. No one is coming to save you. After all that training, you are still a failure, Y/n.”
You scoffed again, but the insult stung “I guess I take after you” you muttered, letting your head fall back against the cold, damp wall. Your eyes fluttered shut, hoping to block him out, if only for a moment.
His smirk faltered, frustration darkening his features “So you’re just going to give up like that?” his voice had an edge of irritation now.
You slightly opened your eyes, glancing at him “What if I do? It’s not like you can do anything about it.”
His expression hardened, eyes narrowing, offense flashing through them “Are you just doing this to spite me?”
You gave him a sad smile, though your heart felt heavier than ever “Even if I wanted to, that’s not possible anymore.”
His jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. He couldn’t take this anymore- couldn’t take the way you were wallowing in self-pity. “Y/n, get up” his tone shifted from condescending to firm.
You lifted your head slowly, meeting his gaze with defiance in your eyes “Why?”
“Because I said so” he snapped, nostrils flaring, his fists shaking slightly from the force of his anger.
You chuckled bitterly “I don’t listen to you anymore, remember?”
His patience snapped, and he gripped your shoulder before you had time to react “Then I’ll just have to make you then” The world around you shifted, your cell disappearing, replaced by a hauntingly familiar scene.
“Wait, wait, what did you do?” fear flashed across your face as you looked around. Panic gripped your chest, your voice trembling.
“I’m showing you your most painful memory” he said, his voice calm but with a cruel edge. You recognized the place instantly- the moment you last saw him alive.
“No, stop, please” you begged, your hand grabbing his, desperately trying to push him away. You needed this to stop, whatever it was.
His hand remained firm on your shoulder as he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear “Don’t be afraid. Look” his voice was commanding, but you squeezed your eyes shut, refusing to see. “I said look!” he shouted, and the sheer force of his voice startled you into compliance. Your eyes snapped open, and you were forced to relive it- the moment you killed him.
“Why are you doing this to me?” you sobbed, unable to tear your gaze away from the horrific scene playing out in front of you.
He circled you slowly, coming to a stop just behind you “Remember why you did this, why you killed me” his voice had softened now, turning eerily calm as he leaned in and whispered in your ear “You have to finish what you started.”
You shook your head, tears streaming down your face. “But I can’t- I can’t do this anymore.” your voice cracked as you spoke, the exhaustion, the guilt, and the hopelessness finally catching up to you.
He moved to face you, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “You have to, because if you don’t, then all of this was for nothing.” he leaned in closer, your faces inches apart, his voice merely a whisper Then my love meant nothing to you.”
Hearing him say that and being forced to watch as you killed him again made something snap inside you. “You can’t love anyone, Alexander” your voice wavered, but there was a steel edge to it now “‘cause that would mean you had a heart.”
He recoiled slightly, the cold amusement in his eyes flickering. You wiped a stray tear from your cheek and pushed yourself to your feet. “You’re right about one thing though” you continued, your voice growing stronger, “I have to finish this. My guilt was consuming me, but you-” your eyes burned into his “Oh you showed me that it was not my fault. You had to die so that everyone else could live.” you said, the weight of your own words settling over you.
For the first time in what felt like years, the tight grip of guilt loosened its hold on your heart. You took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, as if releasing all the pain you had carried. You looked at him one last time- the man who once held your heart. Though you still ached from his loss, you were finally ready to move on. “Goodbye, Alexander.”
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
Summary: Aleksander is thrust into a war he can't win against Fjerda. It isn't until you get involved that he realizes he has more to lose than an army.
Warnings: canon-typical violence, depictions of gore, reader as hostage, depictions of torture and captivity, major character death, canon divergence, angst
When you are listening to a song and you make up random scenes from a movie/series with you as a character. Yk those music videos with like random scenes from a movie/series which just makes sense with the song? And you like make up a whole as edit video in you head with you as a character? And it feels like it would be so pretty?
That was me today (I mean I have one of these imaginations like once at least everyday) with me as a moon summoner lover of Aleksander Morozova in a fuckin 'I knew you were trouble' Taylor Swift fmv with Alina as the jealousy point. (Like I love u queen but I want your interactions with Mr. Darkling)
The way I even made up this speech in the shower and decided I was gonna post it-
The boy kept looking in the river's water. Each splashing drop flying on his skin, a name. Rushing over rocks and pebbles, foam cut through his reflection. Every current anew brought another face.
"Mishu."
The boy flinched. And cringed. His mother doesn't approve fear. They are above it, they are behind it, they are not cowered under it. And they are not allowed mistakes.
Mikail, Mikail, Mikail, Mikail... that's his name. His. Answer to it, boy! His mother would say, boring a glare through his fixed eye, he dares not move away. Mikail, Mikail, Mikail, Mikail, his name. Own it! A shook of his shoulders would made him remember. Even when it was just the wind, ruffling his ripped clothes.
Shifting from foot to foot, the boy stole glances at the clear stream still.
Ilici would have seen a crown of gold around a wide forhead. Piercing green eyes would lower to the ground whenever someone tried to meet them. He wasn't good at lying, his eyes, much less.
Ivan would have been starring at long, brown locks. Strands of hair always in his eyes. A long face, bones poking at his skin. He'd never speak, his voice changing too much.
Pyotr would look and laugh at the swollen nose between close eyes.
"Mishu!"
The boy snaped his head away. His mother was now in his sight, emerging the forest, dark and full of secrets. Blood hasn't yet dried on her skirts and bodice. Tailor's blood. Grisha blood.
The blood of the poor man who agreed to help them. Who pinched mother's face until it shriveled and wrinkled like an old crone. Who pulled at the boy's own until the eyes were but two holes, sucked in his skull by famage.
He trembled. One step of his mother, bringing her closer, one more scream of the dead man, one more image flashing before the boy's eyes. Darkness. A slashing sound, cutting the wind. But no. Not the wind. A body. The Tailor's body. Grisha body.
"Come on, boy, we don't have all day. Help me clean this mess."
"Yes, madraya."
New face, new behavior, new name. No matter what, though, the boy must always listen to his mother. His own, his family, his only.
His lips moved, but no sound came. The boy's mind was loud, though. Too loud. Enough to wake the entire clearing and the trees over the mountains as well.
His fingertips brushed the unknown skin of his fiftenth face. Or was it twentieth? Thirtyfourth?
Mikail. This one is called Mikail. Aleksander, a voice protested in silence. The boy pressed his palms over his ears. He can't hear it, he won't. He is Mikail. He has to be. Mother promised one day he'll have just one name, his first, his real one.
For what? A bitter voice chipped at his heart. Why hold on to that name, that's not on anyone's minds, or lips? What is Aleksander, but the name a child calls a flower, a ragged doll, a bird they nurtured and left and no one but the child speaks of it? And if he hade made a friend, he wouldn't care for Aleksander. But for Ilici, Ivan, Pyotr, Kazimir, Mikail.
People give names to what they hold dear. A name is meaning. A name is longing and love and respect. Towns and villages have names to be called upon when one is lost. Few high peaks have names to recognize their majesty and unyielding might. Even forests and rivers, flowers and trees are given the gentile mercy of a knwon by all name.
Aleksander is nothing. Means nothing. Weights nothing.
One day, he won't have to be what others see when they look at him, he could be himself, madraya sweared.
Who is himself? The boy is a white canvas, waiting for its artist, a rough wood to be carved over and over again. The boy is that soft clay, passed through too many hands and wasted for now it cannot stand molded in neither chosen form or shape.
One day, he will grow old with the same features of long, long years unchanged...
...The same features, but not his own. Madraya tailored him since as long as he could be on his feet. Before that, he doesn't remember. He doesn't remember if he looked like her, with dark, black eyes like the shadows they control. If he had hair in the color of blackberries or raven feathers. He might have had a round face, or a square one, oval, long, shrimped. So many options, so in vain.
Years later, when he made the choice to ditch each, any and all names, the boy's – now a determined man – felt a strange relief wash over him. Numbness. And in it, peace.
The Darkling: a title to gain power, traction and build a future that for now existed only in his dreams. He designed his appearance to be pleasant, inviting. He needs not be intimidating and thus, scary when threading unsure territories of politics.
He became cold and rational, not out of neccesity, as many are quick to believe. But because he didn't know what else he could be. When his mother left him on his own madness, as she called it, when so used to be beneath, people starting to look up to him instead of projecting their ideas onto the growing boy, he searched for something inside.
A flaming coal to lit up. The name he shoved away and could now reclaim and the person behind it that was pushed so deep inside he could no longer feel it, find it. He searched for something that was never there. So he had to conjure an inner treasure up.
Who was the Darkling would become the burning question of all ravkans, fjerdans and shu alike. Even those farring blissfully away in Kerch, Novy Zem and the Wondering Isles would be drawned by the mistery of the living myth.
Who was the Darkling? Nothing. No one. Ilici, Ivan, Pyotr, Kazimir, Yuri, Mikail, Eryck and many more. Aleksander. Nothing, then. And no one.
summary: after the past months of neglect from your lover after the arrival of the sun summoner you decide to leave during the winter fete.
warnings: just a bit of angst I guess.
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you hadn't know how long you had been running but it felt like an eternity since you had been lying in his arms. The tracker you had saved from death was equally as fast at running as you but you could tell the both of you were losing your stamina and quick.
but you had no time to stop your search because if you weren't quick enough in finding the sun summoner Aleksander might just be able to carry through with his plans of expanding the fold.
You had met Aleksander when you were eighteen and you had been the cause of an accident with blasting powder that was in prototype for the war- it would've caused an entire area of the little palace to burn to ashes had inferni's not been present at the moment.
It had taken a while for the both of you to admit to your feeling but in the end it was all worth it.
Until it wasn't.
The arrival of the sun summoner had caused an invisible wall to grow between you two- and the sparks you once felt and the promises he once made all fell into a pit of nothingness.
Which had lead you to where you were now; hiking through the Forrests of Os Kervo with a tracker who was trying to track the sun summoner after you had both escaped the wrath of the Morozova's.
"we must be close" Mal you think his name was muttered.
"pray and tell how do you know we're close " you asked completely frustrated; but in your defence you had been at this for hours and though you were a usually patient person- not having the warmth of your kefta was taking a toll on you.
Mal crouched down to the ground only for his fingers to trace over some foot prints that had been marked in the mud. "these are her foot prints"
"and how exactly would you know these are her footprints tracker." you raised a mocking eyebrow.
Mal winced at the nickname and tone you were using but chose to ignore it. A boyish grin broke out on his face as he jumped up "I don't!" he exclaims like a child on Christmas before running ahead and following the footprints.
You roll your eyes but there was a twitch in your lips almost as if you were attempting to suppress a laugh before running ahead to catch up with him.
and low and behold asleep on a rock with a wool cloak covering her shoulders you had finally found Alina Starkov.
and this time you didn't bother suppressing your laugh of glee.
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There were times were Ivan genuinely wanted nothing more than to be a normal boy once again. Running in fields with his brother whilst his mother and father watched from their little home. When he didn't have all this pressure on his shoulders.
But right now he wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and die. There was no way he could allow Feydor to give this news to the general at risk of meeting the end of the darkling's cut- but pacing outside of his war room his heart beating out of his cage he wished he had given this task to Feydor.
Hastily knocking on the door a horse "come in" sounded through the door. Ivan opened the door to find the Darkling pacing around the war table with his hair a mess and the sleeves of his kefta were rolled up at the cuffs.
Kirigan narrowed his eyes at the normally stoic heartrender looking everywhere but him.
"is there a reason you've interrupted me Ivan." He queried calmly- but anybody could sense the anger and annoyance radiating off of the general.
Ivan opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water; attempting to find the right words in his mouth.
Kirigan let out a frustrated breath.
"Ivan, if you have nothing to say leave." he demanded more forcefully.
just as the general began to turn around Ivan managed to get part of what he needed to say out. "She's gone!"
the shadows in the room began to darken even more than they once were.
"Ivan, I already know Miss Starkov-" he exclaimed angrily his temper rising; obviously not expecting this from one of his most trusted men
"y/n she's gone!-" the shadows dissipated and the words seemed to be spewing out with a mind of their own "-the servants you sent to collect her had gone to look for her but there was no sign of y/n- and her chambers well they were completely trashed"
it felt as if a knife had been stabbed into his chest and his heart had been physically split in two. You wouldn't leave him- you had made a promise to each other.
"we can be run aways together" you had told each him.
In an eerily calm voice he turned back around to the heartrender with a stone cold mask.
"and do we have a lead on who the abductors could be?"
Ivan gulped before addressing the heart breaking bit to his Grisha leader. "that's the thing sir there was no sign of struggle so we believe she left on her own accord." he said avoiding all eye contact with the general who looked about ten seconds away from burning down all of Ravka just to find you.
Without wasting a single second Aleksander ran across the palace, ignoring the odd looks his Grisha would send him, and ran straight into your room which as he was told was a mess.
There was clothes thrown about as if you were in a hurry to leave- your purple durast kefta was lazily thrown onto an arm chair and the large window to your room was left wide open from where you had jumped out.
He cursed himself for not noticing the signs sooner. You had been distancing yourself ever since the sun summoners arrival or rather he had been distancing himself. He had put the invisible barrier up-forcing you to run away.
He had been so focused on getting his plan for the fold to work he ended up loosing his sun summoner and his first true lover ever since Luda on the same night.
A letter with your beautiful cursive writing on caught Aleksander's eye and hastily picking it up he carefully opened the seal. Almost reminiscing in what could be his last contact with you.
No. He refused to believe this would be the last he would see of you. Because you were his as he was yours.
Aleksander,
My love I'm sorry Ive had to end things this way- or rather you ended things the way you did. I should've seen the signs earlier on and heeded others warnings about you.
I'm sorry I wasn't good enough for you and I understand why I never was the one- for there's truly no point in watering a dead flower when you have a new and beautiful one sprouting that shines like the sun.
Maybe in another life we can be runaways together.
Love from,
Y/N
and for the first time in decades the darkling broke down- for you had been his rock who had stood by him through everything.
Theory that the Darkling actually really was in love with Alina and he let himself desire her because he believed she was destined to be his equal and he didn’t want to kill the stag he was originally going to get Alina to do it and she would own the collar herself but when she kept choosing Mal over him he was hurt and then angry and lashed out in unhealthy ways. And that Baghra was wrong and he wasn’t going to make her into a slave she just thought so because she thought she knew her son would do that and she didn’t realize the Darkling was actually trying to be better because he thought he found his equal in life and could finally not be alone like Baghra taught him he was, but Baghra didn’t know he was capable of changing like that and that’s how she decided to get Alina to run and the reason the Darkling was such a “good actor” to Alina was because he wasn’t acting and because of Baghra Alina thought he was.
Blood Moon summary: Lena (pronounced as Le-na, not Leena) is a renounced witch, a grisha feared. Aleksander goes by many names, not many of which ring true. The pair is similar in more ways than one, but also as different as can be. One seeks power, another fears what the hunger might cost them both, however there is something about the darkness that invited them both. They meet in the middle, where the world collides.
Important info: this takes place before the shadow and bone/six of crows, before there even is a shadow fold, and there isnt that much information about grishaverse in those times (note i havent looked much outside what books provide) i am taking a lot of creative freedom with it!
enjoy!
Lena wasn‘t sure how she ended up here, but she knew better than to ask questions. Aleksander, as she knew him, was a kind man. To her. Or maybe she was just one more foolish girl to him, whichever it was, he had accepted her for who she was.
A blood witch, many called her. All across Ravka and even beyond. They both had extraordinary talents, but for whatever reason, Aleksander was more accepted than her. Or, as accepted as grisha could be in these times. However, Lena remembered making the King himself kneel before her, then downing his entire army to do the same.
The power she felt, the name she earned. She used to wear lifeless colours, blending in, but she wore deepest of reds now, which seemed to be more fitting. It matched Aleksanders black attire quite nicely.
She counted herself lucky to even know him by that name, as he would never use it nowadays. He was known as something else, a shadow just passing through.
Aleksander was looking at the girl now, remembering his own mother, who once pretended to go by that name too – just like Lena did now. To him, she was Telyna, but for many reasons she didn’t like sharing, she despised that name.
Telyna was who she was before she became worthy of being a blood witch, it was a time of drowning and fear and pain. She broke through, but it cost her greatly, sometimes she wondered if it cost her humanity herself.
Aleksander liked that about her, as she stood there, glowing and graceful, radiating the power she had within. He saw the army kneel against their will. The world could be theirs, as they knew it.
But he needed to get stronger, to be worthy to stand next to her.
Lena looked at the man as shadows danced around them and he caught her gaze, smirking. The shadow extended, and she couldn’t see the light anymore.
“Impressive.” She said lazily, rubbing her hands on her cloak.
“Not enough to take down an entire army.” He said, letting the shadows drop – sunlight returned making Lena cover her eyes.
“No, I’m afraid not.” She agreed as he came to her, placing his hand on her shoulder. She felt the surge of power rush through her, as a reminder that he is an amplifier. Her mind for a second thought about what she could be is she bore his bones permanently, but she chased the thought away.
“Together we could-“
“Have the Ravka, Shu Han, Fjerda. Our reach might take Ketterdam and the whole world.” She finished as Aleksander just grinned.
She glanced at him and he involuntarily stepped back. His face grew tense but there was playfulness behind his eyes.
“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t do that.” She let him go, dropping herself to the grass and staring at the surrounding area. They were in an opening in a forest north of Ravka, close to the border.
“I thought we agreed not to discuss your plans to take over the world, Aleksander.” He pressed his lips tightly. This was a discussion neither of them really enjoyed.
“You almost took down the king.” Lena shot him a glance, sending him to his knees. He grunted but remained silent.
“It was for his treatment of grisha. Now he may never forget that if we wished to, we could destroy him and all he stands for.” Her voice trembled in anger. “That was his final warning.”
“Until he hurts another grisha.” Lena looked at Aleksander, who was still on his knees, staring at her. Shadows seeped out of him, seemingly not out of his will. She looked away.
“Then I will have him bring me his own head.” She said through her teeth. The woman couldn’t see Aleksander grin, as if he was twisting up a plan.
She only heard grass move and they were surrounded by darkness again. Even in it, she could see Aleksanders face change, as his shoulder relaxed, his skin began to glow. He looked better the further the darkness reached, and Lena wondered, what was happening to his soul in these moments.
Was he letting the darkness out, hence the glow, or was he letting it in, nest inside of him tainting all there is, eating him from inside out.
Lena has met Baghra once, even if she has been acquainted with Aleksander for some years now. The woman looked at her son with so much love, the girl felt herself grow jealous, even if just a little. But there was something behind her eyes there too, and only weeks later Lena had realized it was fear.
At first, she thought that it was for him, but perhaps it was for the world. Aleksander seemed to grow more and more power hungry every day he spent traveling across Ravka with her. They had no goals. After their visit to the royal court, they were both, hunted and feared.
But neither of those things really gave them power. And Aleksander wanted power.
Lena was scared to let him too close. To drink up his darkness, out of fear for becoming more like him, for wanting the world. She hated herself for what she did at court, yet she felt ecstatic about it too – using her power to it’s full potential. The fear in their faces.
She couldn’t see her cloak anymore, but the dark red was getting in her skin like permanent ink. She was owning the blood witch status. She loved being a scary story kids, to otkazat’sya. She was legend, she was seen and feared.
She hated how it made her feel. But she loved it too. She understood Aleksander better than anyone.
The sun reached her again as the man looked at her, gracing her with a full-toothed smile.
“That was better.” For a moment, he looked like a child. They never discussed their true age, but in the many lifetimes they are yet to have, perhaps they were just kids now. Two small children playing with fire they might not be able to contain.
“It was.” She said, against her better judgement.
There was a steam nearby. She felt the water as she was a Tidemaker, a name that seemed to stick to those of Small Magic who learnt how to manipulate water. She couldn’t see it behind the trees, but her lips twitched as the tried to hold back a grin.
She lifted her arm, twisting it a little, and then flicking it. Water rushed from its source, soaking Aleksander who seemed to be struck by it unexpectedly. He was staring at her in disbelief as she allowed the water to fully drop, her laugh echoing across the forest.
“You should see your face.” She was bent over with laughter, but she still could see Aleksander biting back a smile too, until he burst out laughing. Lena knew he must be freezing though, so she did her best to get water off of him and his clothes once they had finished laughing.
They set camp then, sitting close by the fire. There was a comfortable silence between then as it seemed they have had all of the conversations through the years. Lena still felt herself yearn to hear him speak, tell a story of his earlier life, but he didn’t have many happy ones.
Nor did she.
“Do you think there is more people like us?” She asked, curiously, watching the embers in the fire.
“There aren’t anybody else like us.” Aleksander was looking at the girl, so she met his dark eyes. “And there never will be.”
“What makes you say that?” Lena asked as Aleksander smirked, closing his eyes and leaning in. Her heart skipped a beat as the girl shut her own eyes, but the man simply landed his forehead on hers.
“You and me, we are going to change the world.”
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A/N: Hey, hey, so, I am kinda back? Idk if I will be writing Y/N fics (tho I do plan to do it) Ive had this idea of Darkling [kinda] fic for awhile, and i have it started on AO3 HOWEVER, the story there takes place in Grishaverse as we know it, aka, around Shadow and Bone trilogy era, whereas what I am sharing here is the backstory of Lena and Darkling, so I hope y’all enjoyed?? Let me know what u think, anonymous feedback can be left on my ask page. This part is short and they all might be, so i can get them out faster, that is if you actually like it?
