lover of villains and gray morality

"Alina, please." Mal sighed wearily. "I just want to talk alone. It's not difficult." "You are not considering Miss Starkova's current status, Corporal Oretsev," the Darkling interjected. "If she said no, it means no. Respect her decision." "She's not your property, Darkling! Alina is my friend; we grew up together. I've known her most of my life. Just because some mystical reason caused peasants to elevate her to the status of a Saint, am I no longer allowed even to talk to her?" The Darkling snorted derisively. "You've known her most of your life, but you have never, never seen her, tracker. You, and only you, are to blame for the fact that she no longer wishes to speak with you. If you had even a shred of intelligence, you would, at the very least, apologize for your boorish behavior before demanding anything from her." Mal gritted his teeth; the muscles along his jaw twitched, and his hands clenched into fists. Knowing him, he looked about to start a fight. What a fool; the Darkling wouldn't leave a trace of him, and judging by appearances, that was exactly what the Darkling was aiming for with his provocations. The girl rolled her eyes. Oh, these men, behaving worse than barn cats in the throes of March. Alina put down her spoon and rose abruptly, the legs of her chair scraping against the wooden floor. "Enough!" She cast an angry glare at both of them. Then she stared intently at her former friend. "Fine, Mal. Let's talk."

The smile faded from Aleksander's face. Here, the story took on a sadder tone. "Fyodor almost died during one of the Shu Han raider attacks. We lost most of the squad that day, and the survivors were poisoned by an unknown toxin. The hope for recovery was catastrophically low. That's when I approached Ivan, who had practically gone mad with grief, and told him to finally tell Fyodor about his feelings. As you can imagine, our Alkemi managed to create an antidote at the last minute, and Fyodor and Ivan have been inseparable ever since." Alina looked thoughtfully at the sky, from which silver ice crystals were slowly falling. A thin stream of vapor escaped her lips. "I just hope neither you nor I will need something like that to confess our feelings." The Darkling slowly closed the distance between them and tucked a stray strand of chestnut hair behind her ear. Alina's cheeks were red, whether from the frost or his touch, he couldn't say for sure. Aleksander looked intently into her eyes, seeing the tiny flashes of light reflected in those golden-brown orbs he had come to adore. "I like you very much, Alina. I'm not afraid to admit it." The girl smiled, leaning into his palm. "I like you very much too, but I can't say those three cherished words to you just yet." He nodded. Aleksander wasn't ready to say he loved her either. It was too early. They would have time for those words, but later, when she proved she wouldn't leave. When he proved he wouldn't betray.

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Chapter 9: Examination

They stared at each other for a moment, maintaining eye contact. Alina thought she heard some silent exchange between the Darkling and his deputy, after which Ivan sighed wearily, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I understand, sir. I apologize for my doubts."  The Darkling placed his hand on the Heartrender's shoulder. "Your opinion is important to me, Deputy Kaminsky, remember that."  "I appreciate it, moi suverennyy," Ivan bowed and hurried to Sergei to help him set up the tent.  Alina watched him go. "You truly value Ivan, despite his rude nature, don't you?" she asked the Darkling. “I like him just the way he is—tough, straightforward, and a little rough around the edges,” he replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I wouldn’t hesitate to trust him with my life.”  “And do you love me only for my strength, or as a person?” Alina looked into his quartz eyes. “Could you trust me with your life without hesitation? I trusted you with my life, Darkling, but you can’t even trust me with your name yet.”  “Alina, that’s different, I…” he tried to explain, but she interrupted him, placing her hand on his cheek, flushed from the cold.  “I’m not asking for an answer right now, it’s just…” She pressed her forehead to his chest, feeling his strong, unsteady heartbeat and ragged breathing. “Consider my words at your leisure. This is my request of you,” the girl said, stepping away and wandering over to the fire being prepared to help Lev dry the brushwood. She forced herself not to look back, even though her traitorous heart ached. 

Chapter 8: Confrontation

"Do you really think I deserve all this?" The Darkling tilted his head. "Be more specific, milaya. What do you deserve? If we're talking about the Apparat and his machinations, or the tracker's vile remarks, then no, you definitely don't deserve this." "No, I'm not talking about that," the girl shook her head, crumpling the sheet in her hands. “I'm talking about all the attention I'm getting. The Apparat wants to make an icon of me, even posthumously. His fanatics, drüskelle, and Shu thugs are hunting me down like a curiosity, and you… you want to make me a symbol of a new era in which Grisha will be accepted and revered. Zoya said I don't deserve what I have, that the only reason I get so much attention is because of my abilities, and honestly, I agree with her. I don't deserve all these privileges you've given me.” Aleksander sighed. Alina had fallen back into self-deprecation, once again considering herself unworthy. He could have encouraged her, told her she shouldn't pay attention to envious people like Zoya, but that clearly wouldn't help. "Darling," he reached out and touched her chin, urging her to look at him. "Remember one thing: only you decide what you deserve. No one else. If you think you're unworthy of what you have now, prove otherwise with your actions." "How?" the girl looked at him, begging him to tell her the answer. "Everyone expects great things from me, but I… I'm not sure I'm capable of them." “It's part of your journey to find yourself. You will find the answer in due time, I believe in it, and I will be there every step of the way.” However, his words failed to invigorate her. Instead, she shrank even more and asked in a quiet voice, "Even if I don't support all your plans?" Ah, they were back where they started. The Fold. Alina didn't support that aspect of his plans; there was no doubt about that now. It seemed he would have to turn the girl's head so much that she would completely forget her morality of otkazniks. He didn't want to consider the alternative, which Ivan fiercely defended. No. Alina was young and naive; Aleksander could easily bewitch her, force her to cooperate without resorting to physical force. With these thoughts, the Darkling abruptly closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to hers, bruising them. She gasped, her breath hitching. He took the opportunity and deepened the kiss. And she responded, her arms wrapped around him, her fingers tangled in tarry strands, their tongues tangled. Alexander pulled her close, squeezing her with the force of a drowning man clinging to a raft, unwilling and unable to let go. He didn't want Alina to become his enemy. She was too precious to him, far more precious than a mere symbol, an icon, or a pawn. Aleksander cared deeply for her and would do anything to ensure the worst outcome—one in which he would lose her—never happened. Finally, he pulled away from her, resting his forehead against hers. His gray eyes stared into her golden-brown ones, unwavering. "I'm sure we'll figure it out, milaya," he kissed her forehead and forced himself to pull away, returning to his bed.

Sad_outsider

Chapter 7: New stage

The girl climbed into the red velvet-upholstered carriage and sat opposite the Darkling. He closed the door and rapped his knuckles on the roof, signaling that they were in place and free to move. The carriage moved off, slowly at first, but gradually picking up speed. The landscapes gradually changed: first the outskirts of the Little Palace, then they emerged beyond the inner wall, where they were met by snow-covered, towering noblemen's mansions, just as tastelessly ostentatious as the Grand Palace. Soon they crossed the bridge, and Os Alta appeared before them in all its ordinary, impoverished glory: poverty, filth, and hopelessness. However, this time, on the grey, shabby facades of some of the houses, sun symbols were visible, painted in bright yellow. Her symbol. Alina had unwittingly become the hope of an entire nation, and she had no idea what to do with this power.  She glanced at the Darkling. He was poring over some papers, oblivious to the passing landscapes. For him, it was a familiar sight—a sign that everything was going according to his plan. If such power were directly in his hands, he would know what to do with it. And the Darkling had already done this: he decided to use faith as a way to legitimize the Grisha's power with her silent support. Alina herself had no idea how to channel the faith of the common people. She supported the Darkling because she saw in him a reliable leader, someone capable of leading Ravka out of its desolation, unlike the irresponsible, capricious Lantsovs. But what did she really want? Previously, she hadn't allowed herself to dream big; her only goal in life was to get Mal to notice her. But that was the mouse-Alina, the person she had renounced. But what did Alina the Summoner want? Did she have any goals of her own, other than abstract freedom? She sighed, resting her chin on her hand. It seemed she was destined to find the answer on this journey. 

Sad_outsider

Chapter 6: Distance

A mischievous glint appeared in Genya's eyes. "So, it's true. You have feelings for Alina."  The Darkling sighed wearily, his gaze fixed on the ceiling, which mimicked the night sky. "Yes, and that's the problem."  "The problem?"  He nodded. "I can't trust her. You yourself said she's hiding something. Baghra probably told her about my plans regarding the Fold. Perhaps, even as we speak, Alina is planning an escape." He had indeed developed unwanted feelings for the Sun Summoner; Aleksander could no longer deny it. But he had no right to succumb to them. Alina already knew about his weakness for her, and she used it. The Darkling had to be on his guard, otherwise everything he had fought for centuries risked being lost because of an attachment to one girl. She could stab him in the back or escape, taking advantage of the moment. Their game was entering dangerous territory, and he had to be extremely careful not to be made a fool of.  Genya quietly chuckled into her fist, distracting him from his troubling thoughts. “Sir, I don't think you should worry about that. Alina is not your enemy, unless you yourself try to make her one.”  Aleksander frowned. "You know something," this wasn't a question, but a statement of fact.  "Out of female solidarity, I won't tell you everything, but I can assure you of one thing: Alina likes you very much, even though she can't admit it yet, even to herself. She's not going to run away until you're ready to grant her freedom. That's all she needs now. You'll have to work out the rest between you," the tailor placed her hand on his gloved one. “Talk to her, be frank, and she will reciprocate.” 

 "You didn't waste my time at all. You held your own against Zoya, and as I said, the problem isn't so much your skills as the insecurity you've acquired during your life as a otkaznik."  Alina felt a lump in her throat. "But how can I gain confidence? How can I become the person everyone wants me to be? Just recently, I was a nobody, I had no goals, no direction, I was simply drifting, waiting for someone who cared nothing for me to deign to show even a shred of affection," she shared her innermost thoughts, baring her soul for his judgment.  She was almost certain he'd read her letters to Mal and knew that until recently, she'd been hopelessly in love with her childhood friend, desperately clinging to him like her only anchor. But her feelings had turned out to be nothing but a lie, wishful thinking. Mal would never see her for who she was, would never accept her. And the Darkling? Who did he see when he looked at her? The Sun Summoner, the Saint, the future Queen? A Pawn? Or Alina? Had she made a terrible mistake by choosing to tie her future to him? Perhaps she should have distanced herself from him before it was too late?  "It's not about who others want you to be. Tell me, who are you, Alina Starkova?"  The girl shrugged, looking away. "The Sun Summoner, obviously."  The Darkling gently stroked her cheek again, forcing her to look at him. "I'm not asking what's obvious. I'm asking how you see yourself?" 

New Chapter and Concept Art for Inko Midoriya's Villainous Costume