#darklina hate space

[thechaoticrow]

for people who haven’t read the shadow and bone/ six of crows books, but have seen the show:

- inej ghafa is a survivor of childhood sex trafficking. she has ptsd and reacts in a panic attack at even walking past the menagerie

- kaz’s trauma isn’t just pekka rollins being responsible for jordie’s death, and waking up on the barge. he had to swim to shore, age nine and barely alive, using jordie’s body as a float

- the darkling has done far worse things than are shown on screen. he is not a ‘lost man’ and alina is not his ‘balance’

- alina was seventeen upon the darkling being nsfw/ romantic with her

- matthias helvar did not lead drüskelle, that was jarl brum- matthias is only just barely an adult himself

- the crows are not their own separate gang, they are part of the dregs, who per haskell leads and kaz takes over from haskell after haskell sold out his lieutenant (kaz) to pekka rollins

- zoya, genya, and alina have personalities outside of either being traumatised or hating each other

- alina never wanted any of the power and fame and idolatry, and in the end of the books is stripped of it all. she is very happy about this

- jesper is a gambling addict and somebody who watched the death of his mother

[the-sweet-hibiscus]

On Racism in the Darklina Community

disclaimer: this is less receipt based and just my own personal feelings over the last few days.

With the situation with Christina there was a lot push back and divide between whether or not Merel deserved the vitriol and larger if Darklinas at all deserve the automatic hate and discrediting as fans in this space.

Accusations

There were a lot of responses, and with this I noticed a common theme of accusing Darklinas, in a general sense, of being racist harassers. And I want to discuss it earnestly and genuinely because racism is a very serious thing. So I'm going to show a few tweets and we can go from there (redacted user names because I don't think who is making these accusation is as important as what they're saying).

These come from the same person. I've explained this before and I stand by it — I don't think any one person should be penalized for the actions of someone else. Full stop. The person who was attacked was - only in the family for a few months, hadn't really interacted with Christina before, etc. But that was hashed out in my previous post. My real issue came when people asked for proof of these accusations. "I don't have it, I didn't see a reason to screenshot it." Now this person has since claimed to not be in the Shadow and Bone fandom at all. So lets give the grace and say they thought "not my circus, not my monkey". Right? It's fair. I don't go into other fandoms and screenshot the worst of the worst and put them on blast. But I also don't, months and years later, return and say "oh you're all awful" I just find it weird. But again. We have no proof here. Not a name to look into. Not a phrase that someone might have said. They said this:

But I just. How are we supposed to know what to search right? If I, over the past three years, have never seen the racism people are talking about. How am I supposed to know what to look for? Who am I looking for? They claim just look it up? Look what up? Racism and Darklina as key terms? All I'm asking for is a name. Literally anything to prove that "oh these people are bad, let me disassociate with them." Instead, I and anyone who asks for a modicum of evidence or even just 1 name its "i don't know" or "well I didn't think it was important". For years! Like if you don't think it's important to spread awareness about when it happens, or even provide like the standard "this is you?" or just ANYTHING. Then they call us idiot for asking for it. People are just begging for information. I AM BEGGING for someone to say or show something that can ya know. Justify the claims they're making. That's not insane I don't think. All the time, accusations are put out on the internet. And every time. "Do you have any proof? If not I won't believe you." EVERY TIME. In pop culture off the top of my head — Colleen Balinger v Adam McIntyre. The Ace Family combating sexual assault accusations. Percy Hynes White. Chris D'elia. The list goes on and on. And each time it was like "where are the receipts. Or the receipts are given. Counter-evidence is given. The court of public opinion takes place.

Yet when it's a group of people asking for proof of these actions so they don't interact anymore. It's "you're just like them." This seemed like such a popular response. So popular for people to think "lol proof? fuck you."

No Proof is Our Fault, I guess

So obviously this person wasn't the only one voicing their opinion. And this person said:

Firstly, I hate that anyone would be harassed because they point out racist actions. I'm sorry, that the one person you showed, did something awful. Truly. I'm sorry that the people in question lashed out at you. However. Like I said: if the majority of us didn't see it, right, how are we supposed to call this out? If we didn't see? We never heard it? So now we're all evil, and are going to attack you? Because we said nothing because we saw nothing? But it's people like this, who at the same time will go out of their way to quote tweet, and screenshot when they see minor behavior on the timeline.

To the point that bee briefly deleted her account. So it's like, obviously the capacity to call out problematic behavior is there. The willingness to screenshot, quote tweet, and spread around any tweet from a darklina is there.

But when it comes to racism: "I don't trust you enough to share evidence." "I didn't think it was important."

When it comes to harassment: crickets.

It's not important until darklinas have a problem with being discredited. It's not important enough to screenshot or report until other parts of the fandom want to have a gotcha moment without providing any instances of racism actually happening.

This is long winded already.

Final Thoughts

Idk man. I just feel frustrated because all I've seen for DAYS is "please tell us who these terrible people are, so we can block and stop interacting with them." and then it turns to "Fuck you, you know what you did." NO. I don't! None of the people asking for proof know what you're talking about! That's why we're ASKING.

In literally all of my other fandoms, there are similar dramas and accusations. But it never drags on for years because proof is provided! Those people are excommunicated from the larger space! But it just feels like anti-darklina fans are so gun-ho on demonizing EVERYONE because the actions of the few.

If you see racism and harassment, REPORT IT. Screen shot, share why. Say "hey this is problematic." Everyone talks about cancel culture, but when it comes to serious accusations they think solving the issue is hiding it? Refusing to share what was said so people can make sure no one interacts with them or at least make it know that person sucks ass?

At this point it feels like y'all WANT darklinas to be these bad people who say and do awful things. Meanwhile, this year alone, Darklinas have excommunicated several people for defending Ben Barnes and the racist actions he's committed this year. (This is not a BB call out post, but as BB and Darklinas had a lot of overlap, it was something that came up and overwhelmingly Darklinas shamed Ben Barnes and the defenders).

I just wish this fandom was able to collectively acknowledge when someone is being terrible, regardless of their fucking shipping preference. Racism has no place in fan spaces. It never should. (It has no place in real life, either.) And fan spaces should work TOGETHER to expel racists when it's seen. It's called a fandom community for a reason.

[marvelmusing]

Darklina Masterlist

Last Updated: 12/05/2024

My Masterlist

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The Three of Us • Part 2 • Part 3

You’ve managed to locate the mythical Morozova’s stag and have arrived at the Little Palace to share the news. You’re eager to meet the infamous Black General, and to hopefully see your childhood friend Alina.

New Position

A Modern AU. Mr Morozov is notoriously particular regarding his employees. As his newest assistant, your final test is to gain the approval of his wife.

The Rest is History • Part 2 [18+]

After unexpectedly bumping into your old History professor, he asks you to spend the night with him to escape your roommate and her boyfriend. And who are you to turn down such an offer?

Starting Over

One of your colleagues, Mal, brings the head of the Morozov family in for questioning - something you had discouraged him from doing for his own sake.

Spin The Bottle

During a night of drinks at Nikolai’s house, Genya makes the suggestion of playing spin the bottle. There are two particular people in the group that you hope your spin will land on.

Glitter & Gold [18+]

High Society Modern AU. Zoya finally convinces you to join her friends for drinks, but you know that she’s not-so-subtly trying to introduce you to Aleksander and Alina.

Q&A

After filming a historical romance alongside Aleksander and Alina, the three of you are put together for the majority of your interviews during the press tour.

Total Eclipse

Lord Morozova returns to his summer residence earlier than usual - accompanied by his new wife.

Starving, Darling [18+]

Alina invites you over to try some enchanted treats with her. The effects are much stronger than you anticipated, meaning that when her partner Aleksander returns home he finds the two of you in his bed. A sight that he very much wants to be involved with.

Ignite [18+] (dark fic)

Aleksander and Alina return home from a date to find you on their couch, almost completely spaced out as your heat begins. But you’re on suppressants - aren’t you?

Wedding Present [18+]

As Aleksander’s best friend, you’re an integral part of his wedding to Alina, especially when she decides you’re going to be her wedding present to him.

Sweet Treat [18+] • Prequel [18+]

King Aleksander and Queen Alina of the Fae kingdom of Ravka have always had a soft spot for you after they found you lost in the woods with little knowledge of the Fae or their rules. From then onwards they have looked after you, welcoming you into their castle and, after some time, into their bed.

Making A Splash [18+]

Aleksander and Alina are well known as the most powerful Grisha, mermaid-like creatures with extraordinary powers. When you’re hired by the man who has captured them, you do everything you can to help them return to the sea.

Game of Survival

Inspired by the Hunger Games. As the only joint victors of the Grisha Games, Aleksander and Alina are your designated mentors - the people who will house you in the capital and help train your power as a star summoner.

Someone Special [18+] (dark fic)

After becoming lost in the forest, you begin to lose hope for your survival. Then you wake in a warm house with two beautiful people doting on you.

A Fresh Start [18+]

Part of the Someone Special AU. Settling into life as a vampire isn’t what you expected, but Aleksander and Alina are more than happy to guide you.

Soulmate Comfort

Aleksander and Alina give you the comfort only your soulmates can provide.

At Your Altar [18+]

As the high priestess of the temple of Sankt Aleksander and Sankta Alina, you are the perfect choice when they decide to have a child.

Hate Loving You [18+] • Drabble [18+]

Working for Aleksander and Alina Morozova drives you to insanity and beyond. No one has ever made you feel so frustrated, embarrassed, and unbelievably aroused. Officially you’re their personal driver, but you know deep down that you’re actually just their favourite plaything.

Set In Stone [18+] • Part Two [18+]

Sankta Alina and the Darkling rule over those who live in the hidden realm of magic. Alina herself is particularly fond of turning those who trespass onto their kingdom into statues. Legend says they like to toy with their victims, and if they think you’re pretty enough they just might keep you forever.

Starlight, Star Bright [18+]

Star Summoner!Reader. The arrival of the sun summoner - your darling Alina - changes everything for you and Aleksander.

[lucyghoul]

@lottieurl tagged me to share my unpopular opinions about 5 fandoms!

yellowjackets

love and light but i hate mistynat. like i know people shipped it before nat died but to me it really feels like the momentum started afterwards, surrounding the whole oh no misty accidentally killed the love of her life and she's so sad and it's fucked up and crazy too!!! which sure if that floats your boat go for it. but to me it feels a lot like just a justification for nat's sloppy and narratively unhelpful death. if i didn't feel this strongly about nat's death i might not care as much about mistynat. we all know i'm a natlottietravis girl and it just feels so much more!!!!!! like the narrative is connecting these three people and their actions are all rippling out to affect each other. every single thing natalie does in season 1 is motivated by travis, just like everything she does in 2 is either in opposition to or alignment with lottie. misty just doesn't fit in there at ALL for me. and is actually just a distraction. and i can live with it all unless season three is the Misty Is Sad About Killing Nat season. i will tap out if that's the case. also just overall season 2 was a flop and they better pull something MAGICAL out of their asses to get me to the place i was like pre-2.05

house of the dragon

my main hotd take is that daemon is essential to both the story AND to the existence of rhaenicent. you cannot have one without the other. rhaenyra is shaped by both daemon and alicent from childhood and is tied to them for the rest of her life. removing daemon from that equation or treating him as anything but a person that rhaenyra loves and needs is pointless and a complete misunderstanding of the show. christon sucks ass. alicent is a full on lesbian. larys also sucks ass and there's no juice between him and alicent it is simply creepery.

shadow and bone

i mean this probably isn't too unpopular for my followers but widely just like. darklina is forever and always what that series is about. mal is a useless waste of space who wants what is worst for alina. alina starkov should be allowed to kill and maim and drink aleksander's blood and have nasty insane sex!!!! the ending of ruin and rising is literally a death sentence for her and not in the murder-suicide way that i want!!!!!!!!!

succession

again like i know my mutuals will agree but. romangerri is literally the most important non-sibling dynamic in the entire show and roman's character is so much more more fleshed out and interesting with gerri involved. AND the same goes for gerri. those two are in LOVE love even if they will never know it. they have multiple shoes please esk moments like are you kidding me. roman ceo gerri chair would have been my ideal ending in a dream world

hacks

i hate jimmy and kayla. i like them separately but every time they are onscreen together the entire episode starts dragging and i have to slap myself to stay engaged. the weird sexual harrassment joke went on WAY too long but even outside of that i'm like paul. paul. i know you wrote yourself into the show but PLEASE

no pressure, but tagging @nicollekidman @alyswesthill @lottienat @sapphicscience @tennesseewillams and @hunterbiden and anyone else who wants an excuse to shit talk

[orionlakehastodie]

Lol thank you S2 of Shadow and Bone

Okay you know what, Alina did not deserve Aleksander.

The initial draw that Darklina had for me was it's Reylo parallels

Aleksander and Ben are both people who wanted something good but the means they used to justify those ends are only moral in a utilitarian sense

-Ben has been persecuted all his life for being Vader's grandson, was preyed on by Palpatine and his own mother, father and uncle looked at him like he was some big problem and so he wanted to be ruler of a galaxy where he will no longer be persecuted

-Aleksander has been persecuted all his life for being Grisha, he has watched his own family die, his lover, and countless friends

-Both of them find an unlikely soulmate in the hero of the story

-Rey is an orphan seeking belonging, finding purpose in being the Last Jedi and being the savior of the galaxy and yet she's inexplicably drawn to Ben Solo

-Alina is an orphan seeking belonging, finding purpose in being the Sun Summoner and being savior of Ravka

Then there's the sizzling Force Bond connections between them that make everything extra appealing because who doesn't appreciate Force Bonds people?

But here is where things differ:

-When Rey found out that all of this happened to Ben (this meaning Luke tried to kill him, he has been hearing voices in his head, he feels alone) >Rey almost kills Luke, confronting him for what he has done >Ships herself to her Space Husband and tries to save him from Palpatine -When Ben however being the idiot that he is still chooses to stick with his rule the galaxy plan, Rey says fuck this and (rightfully) fights against him -Ultimately though, she admits that she wanted him, but not as Kylo Ren but as Ben, her Ben that she knows is in there

-Ben realizes that living wanting revenge and being angry all the time was not helpful to him and tries to make ammends -He saves Rey and I may not agree with his death as it truly defeats the purpose of his character arc but it was in keeping with character - Ben loves Rey more than anything, more than his own revenge

In the end the Dyad becomes a true soulmate pair, they love each other so much that they are willing to do anything for the benefit of the other, they love each other so much that nothing else matters.

This season 2 of Shadow and Bone was only palatable because of the chemistry Jessie and Ben have but ultimately

-Alina is a thoughtless, selfish child. She could not grasp why Aleksander did all of this in the way Rey understood why Ben did what he did to become Kylo. In her head Aleksander is just a monster, who lied to her and deceived her and she's the big warrior ready to defeat the big bad monster -I always hated Mal but I truly felt and sympathized with him this season because unlike in the books - Mal is fully supportive of Alina in her ventures and did not try to stop her from using her powers. He just tried to stop her from combusting and killing everyone around them. But how does Alina treat him - she ends up getting engaged to a Prince she flirts with THEN gets angry at Mal when Mal doesn't get jealous/hurt/fight for her. Like Alina girl, make up your damned mind about this. -She has no sympathy for anyone, and only feels bad for herself, seeking Merzost -in the end she uses the Cut which is like yeah, obviously, your girl was hungry for this power

-Aleksander was well fleshed out this season and we see the complex feelings he has for his mother and Alina, but as Ben Barnes described it the toxicity within him where he is unable to see reason in the way Ben Solo did his - therefore he was incapable of changing for people he loved

So in conclusion, I'm not so angry at the way this ended because truly Alina did not deserve Aleksander OR Mal OR Nikolaj. She's just this petty pathetic poorly written girl who's only value is that she can summon the sun.

Aleksander deserved to die because he would have never stopped his search for power because that came before love, before anyone or anything. His desire to save Grisha has been corrupted and in that way he never would have stopped even if he became Tsar.

Also kudos to Mal for breaking up with Alina. Like yes please run for your life this girl does not know what she wants and just uses people wishy washy

Can we be done with the Grisha arc because I'd much rather see Nina, Inej, Zoya and Genya featured - I loved how Inej and Kaz blossomed in this season and Jesper and Weylan are so cute. I need to see Nina and her Fjerdan together again

Also don't get me started on Genya - like was that fucking necessary.

I mean I never had high hopes about Leigh Bardugo but really kudos to the chemistry between Ben and Jessie and how they really brought some form of humanity into these characters that got me to love them, but no amount of Ben and Jessie can save this truly atrocious writing.

I also recently saw an interview where Ben was like - the way to win an Oscar is if you do something less good with me the year before and I really felt for him, someone needs to give Ben Barnes the script he deserves :(

[the-heartlines]

20 questions for fic writers

thanks for tagging me @madsmilfelsen! ♥️

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 82...83..including the one i have on anon shhh ;)

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 208, 351 words which is crazyyy

3. What fandoms do you write for? house of the dragon primarily because i'm OBSESSED. (thank you rhaegon) i have a eversnow oneshot from the hunger games, a snow/reader one from abosbas, a uncle/niece reylo one from star wars, a darklina daddaughter one from shadow and bone, a demon/witch haladriel one from the rings of power, a hellcheer one from stranger things, a momson soulbates one from bates motel.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? 

5. Do you respond to comments? 90% of the time, within a few days, unless someone is just like "update now!" or something not even saying they liked the fic lol. and honestly sometimes i read the comment and forget to reply lolol.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? ...oh god my very dead dove helaena/blood & cheese fic titled anything..."daemon targaryen sends his regards." indeed he did...

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? my modern rhaegon fic: one love, two mouths...i wrote that fic during a super difficult time in my life last summer and oof anytime i went back to that fic and wrote it for the weeks i did i poured everything angsty and all my feels into it and it turned out so so fucking good!

8. Do you get hate on fics? yes lmaooo...and sometimes i just get plain dumb comments that make no sense ??? like why'd you even continue reading??? i will never understand that!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? stealing mads answer of "hell yeah, fuck yeah" because HELL TO THE YES. i feel like i write super explicit, visceral smut with FEELING, whether that be possessiveness, anger, jealousy, love, LUST. it's all very encompassing and passionate...

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

if my helaemond twins inspired by reylo force bond counts this YES i have!

i need to expand upon that and write something longer!

11. free space / no question here, send me an ask with one instead please :)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? YES one love, two mouths was

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? not yet...but one day...a beloved bestie and i want to and have talked about it before! ;)

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? my fave ships are a tie between rhaegon and helaemond and they are my fave fave fave to write! especially when they're fucking each other lol

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? i will not tolerate this kind of negativity LOL but rn i feel like i won't ever finish my heldaemond sequel to peaked with crimson or my rhaegon oneshot inspired by the rape me scene in succession

16. What are your writing strengths? incest smut lol no but i think i add a power punch of emotions to even the most smuttiest fics. also my symbolisms & alliterations are awesome ;)

17. What are your writing weaknesses? i think some of my fics can seem similar but idk it's hard when it's INCEST and a brother wants to breed his sister =/ also i'll go back and read a fic of mine after a time and see quite a few grammatical errors or something DUMB...sooo...

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? i used high valyrian in one fic and meh...i honestly forget about it ngl

19. First fandom you wrote for? house of the dragon

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? my rhaegon fics: poisonous veins & suffocator are tied for my top two favorite fics. also dragon sear; seared by sunlight is my most poetic and fave helaemond fic i've written

tagging: @unusual-raccoon @barbiedragon @humanpurposes

@stxrks @arcielee

[where-theres-smoak-2]

The difference between Malina in the book version and the series is striking. In the book, they annoy me. They are toxic to each other from a strength. And Mal, in addition to being the least interesting character, and just plain boring, is a walking red flag in relational terms. Which makes him unbearable. Especially because he takes up too much space in the story and in Alina's head too... In the series, Mal is very much like a human being! Sometimes I even want to give him a big hug. But he's still a pretty boring character because he's only defined by Alina. Being a good person in fiction is not enough. You must have a real personality. But the Malina relationship for me is above all family. They're each other's family, and I can't see them growing into a great love story.

I agree with all of this. When it comes to ships I tend to react in a few ways, either I love them and they are my do or die like darklina for example, I think they are cute but I am not quite at the obsessed level like david and genya or I am indifferent to them, don't really care find them a bit boring, like show m*lina. It is very rare that I will hate a ship to the point of not being able to stand them, but book M*lina did that to me. I think it might actually be the first fictional relationship that I can say I hated. It was just so toxic but not in an interesting way it was just way too real, M*l often emotionally manipulated Alina, even going so far as cheating on her, he often made her feel inadequate and self conscious and the two of them just weren't compatible at all and I spent the whole book series just waiting for them to realise they didn't work and break up with each other, something that never happens. They were a large part of what made reading the books so unenjoyable for me.

When it comes to the show I do think M*l is a much more likeable character but unfortunately he is bland as they've wrapped up too much of his character into Alina and how his character relates to Alina he doesn't really get any story lines of his own. As you said being a good person isn't enough in fiction there needs to be more to his personality. I've used this comparison before but take Peeta Mellark from the Hunger Games for example, he is your typical nice/good guy, he is someone who has always been in love with Katniss and she has alot to do with what drives his character's motivation, but his character isn't solely wrapped up in Katniss, we learn more about him outside of her and he has his own story that is separate from her. I am really hoping that when it comes to M*l's character in the show they do develop and branch his character out more in season 3.

[faeriebabee]

does not, can not, will not

a/n: in honor of the fact i am getting wine drunk and forcing myself to rage finish shadow & bone s2 i’m posting the oneshot i wrote when i was  a 14 year old darklina shipper. i recently moved it from ff.net to ao3 because i figured it held up remarkably well against the passage of time compared to the rest of my other teenage writing, but never posted it here. until now! but heavy disclaimer i didn’t edit or revise this at all beyond running it through grammarly so it is still very written-by-a-14-year-old

summary:  Whatever she and the Darkling have, it’s certainly not love.

ao3

Alina Starkov does not love the Darkling.

There are moments when she hates him less. Moments when she sees the lonely boy with too much power in his quartz gray eyes and is begrudgingly reminded of herself. There are moments when she forgets she hates him. Moments when her hands are tangled in his hair and his hands are gripping her hips, trying to pull her closer even though there is already no space between them and she can barely remember her name- much less that she’s supposed to hate him- because the press of his mouth on her- her mouth, her jaw, her neck- is far too intoxicating. Moments when the only real thing is him and the waves of desire clouding her judgment and weakening her resolve, however temporarily.

Then in a flash of clarity, she regains her senses, pushes him away, and goes back to hating him.

Alina Starkov does not love the Darkling because love is not a never-ending cycle of cat-and-mouse games and cruel taunting and the angry clash of lips on lips.

Love is being curled up beside Mal, her head on his shoulder and his arm loosely curled around her waist. Love is the way she and Mal instinctively reach for each other's hand at the same time and the way her gaze automatically seeks out his when they're in the same room. Love is the tender, slow kisses that reassure her that he is there. Love is sweet and gentle and clear sunshine accompanied with cloudless skies.

Whatever she and the Darkling have, it’s certainly not love.

Alina Starkov can not love the Darkling, because if she does it's proof that she does not love Mal as much as she once did.

It's proof that she is not oblivious to the way Mal dislikes her being in a room with another man for even a handful of seconds, even if he should know damn well that her relationship with said man is either platonic or nonexistent. It’s proof that she notices the way a normally casual arm around her waist quickly becomes possessive, to the point of making her feel like an object to be claimed. It’s proof that she remembers the way Mal told her he wanted the old Alina back and he sometimes mistook her for a stranger. It’s proof that she hasn't entirely been turning a blind eye to the way Mal drowns himself in kvas and other women after a particularly bitter argument.

It was admitting that she needed to let go of Mal, that she was losing him anyway.

Alina Starkov will not love the Darkling, because if she does she’s scared she’ll lose a part of herself.

She’s scared of her hunger for power. She’s scared of what she’s willing to do for more. She’s scared of the violent urges she sometimes gets. She’s scared of Mal leaving her. She’s scared of being alone. She’s scared of letting more people past her barriers. She’s scared that someone she trusts will turn and lodge a dagger in her back. She’s scared of hurting Mal, Nikolai, Genya, Tamar, Tolya, and even Nadia and Zoya. She’s scared of everyone turning against her. She’s scared of descending to point that she needs to be killed. She’s scared that no one will be able to kill her once she reaches that point. She’s scared that in a couple of centuries, she’ll be more like him than herself. She’s scared she’s already no better than him. She’s so, so scared- and mostly of herself and how dark she’s becoming.

He’s always appealed to the darker side of her.

She does not love him. She can not love him. She will not love him.

She will not let that change. She will not let her powerful attraction to him grow into anything more.

As long as she can keep convincing the darkest parts of her soul of this, she’s at least one step out of his reach. She’s at least one step away of becoming what she fears. She’s at least one step away from being consumed by the darkest parts of herself.

She’s always been a terrible liar.

[anniesqueendom]

Okay, I totally understand the difference in opinions in regards to malina and darklina between the readers and the viewers. I first watched the show, I didnt ship either to be honest, but malina grew on me until we got introduced to nikolai lol, but either way. The book version of darklina is much worse; there isn’t much of any sympathy you can give to the Darkling. He also physically invades her space after capturing Alina. Not to mention the power play, while Darkling in the show clearly had feelings for Alina, Darkling in the book only cared about himself and his ability to make himself desirable to her, he used all his tricks and kissed her and then ran away. It was honestly red flags on red flags. Either way, I get why there are so many of the booklovers that hate that people even remotely ship darklina, yet, the book version and show version is sooo different. Actually, I kinda love how many differences there were between the show and the book, specifically, you could clearly see the love genya had for alina much more clearly in the books; but the show did some amazing things with the characters of zoya, introducing the crows early on, and even the darkling’s character. I am excited to see both where the books and show leads me. I do feel though, in both, they could potentially stop killing off so many people- but thats my biggest annoyance with fantasy fiction/tv. There is an obsession of making it dark rather than escapist. Oh well, we can’t always get it all I suppose lol

[southslates]

god that zk / d*rkalina post reminds me of why i left that fandom, i really hate how you can’t simply say you don’t like something without a bunch of people jumping on your back accusing you of ‘policing’ them or smth like how is me personally thinking something is gross affecting you? idk. esp since i’m black and they go doubly hard after me if i so much as imply that i don’t like something specifically because of racism / misogynoir.

it’s like when some atla fans get pissed off that not everyone likes aang. like he was never my favorite. after b3 / comics i actively dislike him. but every time i say i don’t like him i’m a monster who bullies 12 y/o and hates ‘non dramatic’ ships. like no, i… simply just do not like him. i never came for you. i just said i don’t like him and his (lack of) character development imo.

sorry for ranting in your inbox i am just sick of being demonized for not liking things by the so called ‘you do you’ crowd. ironically i feel like those white ‘fandom old’ types target people just as much as those they say they despise sometimes :/

right and the most annoying thing is that they claim they're all for you do you, but there's a difference between acknowledging something is unhealthy BUT fictional and romanticizing something that is unhealthy? some people don't seem to draw the line...and like i guess it's "you do you" and that's their business, but if we're going to state our opinions and accept that everyone's opinion is valid as long as they don't infringe upon other's opinions, then like....you can still be criticized

sorry you've dealt with misogynoir and racism in fandom, it really is sad how such a safe place ends up being a microcosm of the world that sometimes even amplifies its worst aspects in very insidious ways, because you leave your guard down when you're in fandom, you assume it's a safe space, and then...

i've always said i never dislike ships because of ships, but because of shippers. i loved darklina and i thought the dynamic was so cool to explore (as i said i've written several fics, like the first was when i was thirteen) but then the way i was harassed on twitter for disliking how people compared it to kanej in some form...ruined the ship for me. like, i never said don't ship it? i basically always said that darklina has a cool dynamic to explore but that i didn't want it to be canon because that is the normalization of abuse in its canonical interpretation. maybe there is a world where it could have been done and it being canon would not have been a bad impression on thirteen year old girls like me, the first time i read the grisha trilogy. but well, it isn't this one. i was there and i wish malina was better in the books lol so i would have found darklina less appealing.

but yes with the aang thing, too! i think the "you do you" anti harassment crowd has its extremes, especially when they defend racist and problematic behavior towards real life individuals in fandom as on the same tier of fictional interaction, especially because this defined "harassment" is not people venting on their accounts without instigating discourse. people will always have their opinions.

zk fandom has had a lot of issues with big name white fans conflating real problematic behavior within the fandom with general proship harassment. it's what drove me out of the fandom last year and i pray it will not happen again because it really really bothered me at the time

but anon i do empathize so so much with you <3 sucks that a supposed safe space like fandom still has so many complications--i just want to do my own thing, and that includes hating on things, in peace ✌️

[hibewriter]

Eyes to Welcome You Home

Masterlist   Read it on AO3

Shadow & Bone | Darklina | 7.3K | E 

Tags: Age Gap | Dry Humping | Car Sex | Stair Sex | Coach x Player Relationship

Logically, Ravka is just like any other country. Within its borders citizens in its largest cities mull about, going to and fro from jobs of a different caliber than the citizens of the countryside. Its roads are an intertwining bramble dictated by terrain and populace, a web when laid out on paper — all seemingly combining to a point at the country capital of Os Alta.  

But the most important roads, the major ones that nearly every citizen found themselves on at one point or another, were the two cross-country highways. Like all major roads in Ravka, country-Way 270 and Country-Way 40 intersect at the heart of Ravka in a spiraling complex of ten lanes and confusing exits. 

Most preferred CW-40, outside of the city at least. Once its lanes died down into a manageable system of three that traveled from the very highest point at the Fjerdian border to the very southernmost point of Shu Han. Few people minded the small airport along its route, for the traffic was rarely overbearing. 

Yet, on CW-270, which stretched from the port coast to the intersecting border of Ravka, Fjerda, and Shu Han, many found themselves in a hate-hate relationship with the long stretches of construction, passing fields and fields of farmland only to transition into worn buildings of an industrial era long gone. But, should one decide to take the cross-country road trip, they might find interest in the passing exits of small towns. Isolated stretches of road that seemed to have slipped into an ethereal space, lone streetlights, and cracked asphalt that stretched to the very depths of darkness themselves. 

It’s on one such road, two hundred and eighty-four miles away from the coastline, just before the final exit before the border crossing, was a foster home. Normally, one would not find a foster home on the edge of Ravka’s civilized society to be significant. One casually does not pay mind to the small town of Ketterdam, just twenty miles from CW-270. The old industrial buildings were covered in decades of salt and wind, brick weathered dull but still standing out vibrantly from the paneled homes and patched roofing across the town. Even less than minding the small town, people minded the downtrodden foster children. All of them were forgotten the second they were deposited on Ana Kuya’s doorstep, government checks were often “misdelivered” for months at a time. 

But that didn’t stop the house from bringing a vibrancy often lost in the grey skies of Ketterdam. 

“Malyen, get OUT .” A voice, high and sure rang through the crumbling four square. The chipped painting probably suffered from lead and other toxic materials that lined the walls, and cramped hallways with boxes full of various belongings. And currently banging on the home’s lone bathroom door, was a girl of five foot four, jet black hair swishing like silk down her back as her entire body moved with her fist. 

“MALYEN, I SWEAR TO GOD IF WE’RE LATE DROPPING OFF ROSE I WILL BREAK YOUR ARM!” She swore, continuing her pounding as a girl, no older than twelve with blonde pigtails destroyed by sleep, peeked her head out of the door across the hall.

“Linka? I need your help with my hair.” The dark-haired girl, Alina Starkov, spun abruptly, eyes wide as she regarded her foster sibling.  

“Of course, Rosie, why don’t you go ahead and get your bookbag together and I’ll grab your brush from the bathroom." She watched carefully as the girl rolled her eyes and slipped back into the room. As soon as the door softly clicked shut she spun on her heel, fire returning to her eyes as she accessed the door. 

‘Malyen, you have to the count of thr–”

The door swung open, and she was suddenly face to face with her foster brother. Had it been years ago, and she was still idyllic with her little crushes based on physical appearance, and that alone, she might have been given pause at the shirtless boy in front of her. His build was bulky as muscles strained under his skin from years of football practice and eating more than his fair share during dinner as Ana Kuya looked the other way. But instead of being charmed by his lopsided grin, she pushed her way past him, furiously turning the water to begin brushing her teeth. 

"Morning to you too, Alina." 

She fixed her eyes to glare, not responding as she rushed. He merely chuckled, seemingly amused by her frustration. She wasn't sure what was so funny. They had fifteen minutes to get dressed, eat, and load into the car – least Rose, Alina, and Malyen get detention for being late. And none of them could afford that right now.  

"Jush hurreh up Mal." She groaned around the brush in her mouth, trying not to rush through her process too much. This was her last year, she forced herself to remember. The last few months of struggling through mornings like this. 

"Relax, Lina," he sighed, heavy feet padding down the hallway. "I'm driving today remember? Ana gave me the car for the weekend!"  

She cursed, spitting the sudsy paste into the sink with fever, barely taking a second to rinse before she, too, was in the hallway. 

“What?! I need it to get to work! And practice!” She yelled, ire building as she heard the deep laugh from the boys' door. Ana was taking Charles to daycare already, their caretaker often gone before dawn. How she found a caretaker to take the boy before the sun rose she'll never know. 

"Too bad! Use a cab!" 

She scowled, sure that steam would rush from her ears if the shockingly violent cartoons were accurate. But instead, her face just grew red. Splotches of anger dotting otherwise flawless skin, fist coiled by her sides. She didn't have the money right now. Not after –

"Linka, my hair!" 

A lump swallow in her throat, closed eyes as she rushed through her calming. One, two, three –

"LINKA,"

"One minute, Rosie!" 

It was going to be a long day. 

She was right, of course. She sat through mind-numbing class after mind-numbing class. Notes were taken with a drying glitter pen – lines and loops not fully connecting but it didn't really matter. There was a good chance she would not remember a lecture about the industrial revolution in Ravka. What did it matter, when all it left in its wake was a crumbling building in Ketterdam where she listened to Mr. Botkin spew historical talking points from the country curriculum? Half the information needed was to be parsed on the single laptop Ana brought home when it was clear that the textbook – first written nearly a hundred years prior – would not do. 

And if in the margins, where she should take specific notes on figureheads and notable politicians whose influence died with them, she doodled pictures of dark eyes that welcomed her home every night then…that was her prerogative. 

Besides, as the hands on the old clock above the door ticked slowly towards two-thirty, she grew more and more restless. Even the bolt from the building to the gym, nearly a mile away, could not quell her anticipatory movements. Her pen tapped restlessly, her foot moving even faster as she lost the plot of whatever her professor said. 

Ring .

Foot met the pavement faster than her teacher could scream after her. The bell doesn't excuse you , would not work. Not today. Not as she sprinted out of the two-story building, cracked sneakers hitting concrete, then asphalt, not even sparing a glance at the parking lot. Malyen and his friends probably didn't even stay after lunch, the old 4Runner long gone from its designated space. 

One mile. Ten minutes. Part of her wished she'd taken cardio more seriously, her down days could've been spent on a treadmill (if Matthais was the one working desk at the town’s only planet fitness) or around the school's track. Even if there were cracks in the rubber walkway, sprouting leaves, and grass that the caretakers weren't paid enough to attempt to remove. 

It was good, the necessity to move fast. She couldn't feel the wind, scraping through her thin jacket. December air at the base of the mountain, nearly single digits, and yet her windbreaker was her only source of warmth. The cutting edge of air as she attempted to avoid lateness. If she were late he would notice. 

You didn't want him to notice your deficiency. 

Her lungs felt like she'd been stabbed, the sudden exertion with no stretching (another thing he'd yell at her for, but the circumstances made it unavoidable). But she persisted, ignoring the weight of her backpack and gym bag slapping against her spine with each hurried step.

2:47 . 

She attempted to slip in, unnoticed as she sprinted to the locker room. Thirteen minutes. Her limbs were a flurry of motion, clothes discarded for her practice leotard, (hand washed every night you didn’t want to waste too much water using the washing machine). Hands and feet powdered with a quickness that couldn't achieve proper usage, wrapped so quickly after she was sure there was probably a step she missed.  

She refused to be embarrassed, however. Not as she slipped into the main practice area, her legs perhaps moving faster than normal to get to her stretching corner. She ignored the pointed looks from the redhead, normally so sweet, already in the middle of her stretches. Steadfastly pretended she couldn't hear the dark-haired girl, normally not-so-sweet, muttering about her timing. She could do this. Pretend everything was fine and it wasn't a million-dollar race to even get here. No matter if she was three minutes late. 

"Starkov." 

She winced, closing her eyes as she leaned into a split. He noticed. He always notices. Aleksander Morozov may have been an army captain, or a general, with his precision. The way he demanded perfection, and if you couldn't give it to him…well then what use were you? 

"Yes, Coach?" She tried to feign confusion, slowly opening her eyes to see the man himself. Dark pools stared impassively into her eyes. Unimpressed. More likely disappointed. Not welcoming as she dreamed of them.

"Is the posted time for practice not in your email?" His voice, neutral in tone, still carried an edge to it. He could be laughing, speaking about his greatest joy, and she would still believe him seconds from brandishing a knife to stab her with. Maybe flay her and eat her. 

"It is in my email, coach." 

"Then do you simply not respect the time and sanctity of this gym?" 

"I do, coach. I'm sorry. It won't happen again." 

His arms crossed, the black t-shirt straining against his biceps as he regarded her. She wished she could tell what he was thinking. What he wanted. 

"Thirty laps after stretching. You'll work the floor today." 

"But it's–" 

"Bar is for people who show up on time, Starkov." 

Silence. She could feel the eyes on her, other athletes waiting to see what she'd do. But seconds passed, her form unmoving as she looked into those eyes. She needed to practice the bar. It was her worst event, and she needed damn near perfection if she wanted to –

It didn't matter. She swallowed her fury, finally tearing her gaze away from stern eyes and leaning into her stretch. When has she ever been able to say no to him anyway?  

"Of course, Coach." 

Her legs ached. Thirty laps had crossed into thirty-five because five of those laps were walked, Starkov. Go again. Her floor routine was in shambles. Simple tumbles had fallen flat, final landings nearly causing her to roll her ankle. 

It was two hours of failure. Two hours of his eyes on her. She felt them hovering on her – as if the other students didn’t need assistance. He didn't have to say a word. Nothing since she began but she fucking knew. The disappointment was evident when carved into stone, its edges sharper and more biting the more it sets. By the end, her mouth tasted like copper. Her breath came out in pants as she glanced at the clock. 

Maybe if she could go one more time, fix her double axle… Her eyes tracked the empty mat, ignoring her fellow athletes leaving the space as she tried to figure out what was wrong with her. 

"Practice is over, Starkov."  No dice. She sighed, dropping her hands from her hips in an act of defeat. It was no use begging for more time. Time she didn't have before she had to leave. She was already cutting it close. 

"I'm leaving, Coach. I get it." She muttered, not sparing him a glance as she slowly turned and made her way to the lockers. I wouldn't want to keep the disappointment in here either.  

She was slower this time, peeling her leotard off in a daze. Her brow furrowed as she thought of every mistake. Sprung too early on the salto, fucked up the twists, and made it seem like a salto. Constantly fucked up the landing, her balance was practically nonexistent. 

Her thoughts followed her in a haze as she jogged the next three miles to the city grocery. 

Technically, the city had an ordinance on minors working. No teenager in Ketterdam was supposed to work past eleven-thirty, nor lift more than sixty percent of body weight in a work environment, and there were mandatory fifteen-minute breaks per four hours worked. But, working at Brekker Grocery had its…well advantage isn’t quite the word. But it did tend to help you skirt around the ordinances of the city. No official paychecks meant no logged hours, which meant that she could work as late as the store was open (until one in the morning, every night of the week except Sunday when they closed at midnight). It was the only flexible job in town. The only place that would hire her. 

"Hey Kaz," she muttered as she strolled inside, past the only other cashier in the store. At least he didn’t have a choice. The son of the owner typically gets dragged into these things, whether they want to or not. 

“Hey! My dad’s out of town so it’s just me and you tonight.” She had a feeling, not seeing the rusted pickup Mr. Brekker normally drove to the store outside. But, she merely sighed, switching into the red half-apron that was probably older than her. It’s not like she could turn around now. 

“So what, did you not go to class today?” Friendly conversation. She could do that. 

“Don’t need class when you got street smarts.”

She rolled her eyes, a huff escaping her lips as she walked away from him. Kaz was two years older than her, yet they were in the same grade. She didn’t want to chalk it up to days like this, where Mr. Brekker would disappear and force his youngest to take over. But when it was a constant, something she barely had to ask about, well. It made sense.  

Shelves needed to be stocked, and she needed to spend the next…seven hours pretending she was busy. To be fair, she wasn’t certain she was necessary after ten, but who could say no to more cash at the end of the night? 

Maybe, if she didn’t open her mouth so much, she would’ve been correct about a slow night. Then she wouldn’t be dealing with a sudden influx of students, out well past their curfews, barging into the store with less than an hour to closing. Where she was forced to stand at the register while Kaz “counted” the closed registers. She didn’t know what exactly he got up to back there. Just knew that her drawer was short once, and after screaming at him for nearly an hour that night, it was never short again. Mr. Breaker wouldn’t fire his son, not for simply skimming what was technically his profits. But he would fire the little foster kid from down the road. 

And maybe she needed the job. Maybe she still did. Or maybe it was pride, mixed in her fury. 

Either way, the kids in the store gave no reprieve to her night. The sun was long gone, and she could see the sky, opening like a flower in spring. Slowly, then all at once, white powder fell cautiously from above, as if afraid to touch the ground. Deep inhales, then a sigh as she watches it begin to accumulate. Her sneakers had a hole in the sole, something she’d meant to fix this morning before she was so late. Something that would bite her in the ass as she walked back. Ice would seep into her feet, the socks would grow wet, and she’d have to be careful about falling on the ice. 

Little things in life provided much relief besides the approach of black grippy shoes, manager’s keys swinging from side to side accompanied by the carefree whistle of someone who lived two minutes from the storefront where they worked. A sound she was all too familiar with, eyeing the lone clock above the entryway. Only one-twenty-three in the morning. Maybe she’d get home before three. 

“Alright, sunshine. Get out of here.” She was out of her apron before Kaz finished his sentence, ignoring the shake of his head as she nearly sprinted to get her bag. She could go to sleep, she could rest…

If only. Exiting the grocery store was a nightmare. While the snow fell around her, silent and bright on the dimly lit street, the wind raged. Drastic and powerful, her light jacket was little more than a sheet, wet and soaking mere seconds after stepping foot outside. She held her arms close, hoping beyond hope that her body would provide the barest warmth against the elements.

She walked along the main road for just a few minutes, the street lamps illuminating her path, though as she continued her march south, toward her home and shared bed, She found herself taking more and more steps between each light. Shadows seemed to follow her, clinging to her form with each crunch of her shoe. 

The alley, her shortcut behind the town's only bar, was already layered with the week's trash, topped with fresh snow that did little to mask the smell. Her shirt, pulled up and over her nose, was not much better. But soon enough, the hazy blues and reds of The Fold's neon signs reflected off the fallen snow. A welcome sight as she stepped onto the frosted sidewalk.

"Starkov." 

She froze, turning to face the bar awning. Or more importantly, the man standing underneath it. He hadn't changed since practice, the same black joggers and t-shirt adorning his body. But his voice was just as sharp, like a predator approaching prey.

Briefly, she wondered how he could stand to stand outside, the bar door firmly shut behind him. But the lit cigarette dangled precariously out his mouth, soft smoke floating like a stream past his face, and it occurred to her that maybe he was in a rush to get outside when he stepped out. 

"Coach, I didn't see you there."

He stared at her, dark eyes roaming her underdressed form, the same bags, and jacket from practice on her back.

"You should be more observant," he said, pulling the cigarette from his mouth. " It's dangerous to be out so late."

"Yeah, well, not much of a choice these days," she shot back. She startled at her tone, eyes growing wide as she recognized the annoyance slipping into her words. She clasped her lips shut. Practice tomorrow would likely be torture, should he find himself in a bad mood. Silence stretched between them, encompassed by the air whipping around them.

She shivered, clutching herself tighter as she turned her head to look down the street. Just a few more miles until she was home. Her ears were on fire, reddened by the wind. Her hands tucked precariously into her armpits – a small shield from the growing storm. 

“Where are you going?” His voice finally broke, cutting through the wind like a sheet of paper. She sniffed, turning to look back at him. 

“Home,” her legs shifted, dancing from setting her weight on one side to the other. Maintain the blood flow, and warm yourself. It was only a few more miles. “Hopefully. Mal has the car and he went out of town. So I was walking. It might be colder than I anticipated earlier.” She paused, eyeing his patient face. It was almost expectant, how he looked at her to explain why she would be out so late, on a Friday, in the middle of a storm. 

She bit her tongue, turning her head towards the darkness once more. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this, I should go.”

“Stay right there,” he sounded so sure, dropping his cigarette and stomping it out. The bar door opened in a burst, a flash of movement and suddenly it was like he never even stepped inside. A heavy jacket and keys in hand as he approached her. His hand was warm around her arm, slowly taking her toward a black truck, one she hadn’t noticed before. 

“I can walk you don’t have to leave your night,” she protested as he led her to the passenger side. She couldn’t see the face he made, the exasperated look as he opened the door. 

“Get in the car, Alina.” 

She scrambled into the seat, barely registering the door slam before the driver’s side was opened, the truck rumbling to life at the press of a button. She wanted to huff, but the heavy jacket was placed over her arms, her coach leaning over and pulling the seatbelt across her lap. She tried not to inhale him, the smoke – while fresh – took a backseat to the woodsy undertones of his body wash, still evident even after a long day in Ketterdam. 

She watched as he straightened, turning the heat up before jumping out of the car again. The snow, piled on the windshield, slowly disappeared – brushed away with precision. A well-practiced movement, years of living in the mountain town honing skills she’d yet to master. It was almost calming, watching him prep the truck for movement, her body warming to the heat flowing into the cabin. The jacket provided a weight, a smell, that had her sinking into the cool leather of the seat. 

“Do you need to tell Ana where you are?” His voice rang as he climbed back in, shaking flakes of snow off of his hands. She shook her head leaning back. 

“Rosie is staying the weekend with a friend, so Ana doesn’t really care where I am.” 

She felt him tense, the way most people do when they figure it out. She was just a second pair of hands to raise the kids, not a kid in her own home. She sighed, eyeing him carefully. 

“It’s okay. Like I don’t mind it.” She tried to explain, tried to push away those feelings. She knew what it was, the pity, the confusion. Not knowing what to do when a teenager tells you that nobody cares. “It gives me a lot of freedom, ya know. Can’t get into much trouble when you’re always busy, right?” 

She tried to laugh, but it was met with a furrow of his brow. And it was like he was looking right through her. Right through her words and into the insecurities she shoved deep down. As if he suddenly pieced the jigsaw together, even though he’d been on the edges of it for years. She’d just never let him close enough to see all the pieces. 

“Do you do this often?” 

“Do what often?”

“Walk home in the middle of the night.” 

She could tell he was itching to ask something else. Anything else really. Something more personal, more accusatory of neglect, or how life was unfair. As if she didn’t already know that. As if being the only shu girl (in a town that, despite its proximity, did not seem to care for those over the border) didn’t already teach her this. But she just shrugged, noncommital as she looked out the window at the snow falling again. 

She tried to feign indifference as the truck jolted, pulling out of the parking spot to go into the road. Braving elements she was ill-equipped to do on her own. Ignored the rumbling in her tummy as street lights began to change, the soft rumbling of the truck cabin caused her eyes to close, if only for a minute. 

“Yes, I’d like to order a deluxe chicken sandwich meal and a ten-piece nugget meal.”

“And what will that be to drink?”

She blinked her bleary eyes awake, surprised at their sudden side adventure. The sleep shook from her bones as she cast him a curious glance. The light from the restaurant illuminated the lines on his face. Sharp edges fell into shadow as he leaned against his car door, speaking to the poor drive-through attendant. 

What would it be like to touch the beard on his face?

She didn’t have much brain power, not as he pulled around, money exchanged for food placed on her lap. Drinks were placed in the cup holder. It wasn’t until he pulled into an empty space that she spoke. 

“I thought you were taking me home?” 

“I am,” he replied, pulling his sandwich from the bag. She looked at him curiously as he began rifling through their food, sauces laid between them as he began to eat. 

“You didn’t have to get me anything.” 

He swallowed his bite, turning to look at her with a skeptical brow raised. 

“Oh, and when’s the last time you ate?” 

She opened and closed her mouth, several times, before finally giving up. Honestly, it hadn’t been since she scarfed down that English muffin the morning before, in the sprint to school. Her cafeteria balance didn’t have enough for food this afternoon, and she couldn’t go off campus for anything. Unless she wanted to get stuck walking during lunch too.  

Attention turned to the bag, and she tried not to immediately scarf down the hot fries and chicken nuggets. Eating in silence next to the man as he seemed intent on ignoring her growing uneasiness. 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” She asked suddenly – after her last nugget was gone and she began placing trash back into the bag within which it came. He shrugged, taking a sip of his drink before slipping his own trash into the bag alongside hers. 

“I’m not a monster.”

“You’re not nice either.” 

At this, he laughed. Shrugging a bit before looking away from her, out the window at the continued snowfall. For a moment she wondered if he’d taken her to the fast food outside of town, an extra ten minutes away from everything else. It was closer to the highway, it stayed open later. Did he really just get this food because he was hungry? Did he feel bad?

“Demanding precision and dedication from someone with your skillset rarely correlate into niceness, Alina.”

“You called me Alina.” 

He turned back to her, dark eyes boring into her own. Part of them made her want to shrink away, a growing darkness that could not only be attributed to the night filling his irises. But the other part of her, a part she rarely wanted to indulge in, was drawn to it. Wanted to explore, and see just why his eyes seemed to both push and invite her in. 

“That’s your name.”

“You call me Starkov.”

“Professional context. This isn’t a professional situation.”

She blinked, mind numb at the thought. Non-professional. They weren’t friends. They rarely saw each other outside of the gym. She never thought he'd even want to see her in a non-professional manner. 

"Of course, I do," Oh. She must've spoken out loud. "But I am your coach, that would be inappropriate." 

She scoffed, shoving the last of her fries into her mouth before collecting their trash. Ignoring his amused brow as she unbuckled her seatbelt, switching positions with the trash. They'd been close before. His hands as they adjusted her legs, her arms. Holding her steady before a bar routine, catching her occasionally if she needed it. 

But there was something about this – sitting close proximity in a car, fluorescent lights traded for the dim haze of his car radio. 

"So because you're my coach we can't be friends?" 

"No."

His voice gave no room for leeway. He was resolutely not looking at her, hands firmly in his lap as his eyes gazed into the darkness. She almost felt stricken, as if he'd hit her. Her face framed red as she felt the sting of rejection for something she hadn't even allowed herself to fully want until five minutes ago. Suddenly she wanted to hide – from him, from the snow-capped shadows that encased the car. A lump formed in her throat, a pit the size of her fist blocking her throat as her eyes began to sting with unshed tears.

"Why?" she begged. He shifted as if to lean away from her. As if to leave. Her hand flew out before she could stop herself, grasping his bicep. "I'm eighteen. I can decide who I can and can't be friends with." 

He sighed, weighed by whatever plagued his thoughts. His eyes closed as he took a sobering inhale.  

"You're only eighteen," he began, the tone of a father chastising a child that didn't understand just why you couldn't have ice cream for dinner. But she didn't want a father. She didn't want to be treated like a kid.

"Yes, I'm eighteen. I can make decisions for myself."

"That's not what the world thinks, Alina."

She bristled, shifting with ease. Fitting herself in the space between the steering wheel and his chest. His entire body tensed, unwilling to move a single millimeter. Her breath ghosted his nose. His eyes remained clenched. She wanted to smack him and force him to look at her if he was so intent on being a professional. If he was turning her away he better have the audacity to look her in the eye. 

"The greatest of champions are not made because of society's expectations, but in spite of them." She stared at his face after she spoke those words. Eyebrows furrowed as he waged war within himself. Her hand came up without thinking, fingers drifting over the crease of his nose. She wanted to bask in the hitch of his breathing, the slight drop of his shoulders as he let her touch him.  His hands twitched, indecisive, before her lightly grasped her hips. 

"You deserve normal friends," his voice whispered as he shifted her further away. She almost pressed against the horn of the car before her free hand flew to rest on his chest. 

"You're –"

"A thirty-five-year-old and an eighteen-year-old are not a normal friendship, Alina." His eyes opened, dark and obsidian as the night. There was an urgency in them. A pleading for her to understand what he was saying. "One of them always wants more than the other."

The pit in her throat returned, double in size as she stared back. She couldn't look away – drawn into his gaze and unable to look away. It was like how his mere presence drew all the attention in the room, but the room was just her. 

"Do you think…" she choked on her words, blinking finally as she shifted in his lap. Trying to get right in the middle of wrong.  "That you're the only one who wants more?" 

His eyes closed again, and he leaned forward as he groaned. A pained exhale as he tried to maintain the rigid composure he had with her. For too long , she thought. Her hands rested on his forearms, eyes staring at the grey leather of the truck wall as his head landed on her chest. 

For a moment, she was just there. Feeling his warmth seeping into her bones as he breathed. And it felt right – his hands on her hips, his breath on her chest. The tickle of his hair under her chin. And it was with sudden clarity, like a lightning strike, that she felt her resolve solidify. That she knew what she wanted. What she needed from him. 

"Take me home, Aleksander." She felt him stiffen again, tension evident in him as he attempted to regain composure. Her hand flew to his hair, a soothing thread of her fingers on his scalp. "Your home. I want – please take me to your home." 

She didn't move from his lap as he sat back. Instead, she allowed herself to follow his movement, tucking her head into the crook of his neck and shifting her hips closer to his. She relished the slow rumble of the truck, its shaky movements as it backed out of the parking space. Each foot shook the cab as he tried to carefully drive with a girl on his lap in the middle of a snowstorm. 

But she didn't mind. Each bump and rumble brought her hips closer to his. Hardness pressed against her center with each movement. She bit her lip, clutching his shoulders as he navigated the streets (he did choose the fast food in town after all), but that could not stop the small whimpers she left with each rock of her hips. She barely noticed when they pulled into his driveway. Her hips still moved on their own accord, her whimpers no longer hindered as she mouthed at his neck. 

In a flash his hands were back on her, increasing the pressure as he brought her hips down harder. His head flew back, giving her more access as she began to pant. She was encased in the smell of him, woodsy smoke, and a basic soap. Each roll of her hips was a push towards a cliff, the coil inside her tightening with each roll. But it was the sound of him, the low groan in her ear as she moved that sent her over the edge. A small cry left her as she did. The flood of relief filled her body as she clung to him, thighs shaking.  

She panted, eyes lidded as she came down. Each limb seemed to come back to her separately. Her toes unclenched, and her fingers slowly released the fabric of his shirt. Each breath renewed her resolve. 

"A-Alina," he breathed. He was still hard beneath her, clutching her as if he was afraid she'd run away. "Text Ana you're spending the night somewhere safe." 

How he had the wherewithal to think of that she'll never know. And it was obvious that Ana wouldn’t care. But she did as she was told, slowly peeling herself away from his shoulder. She raised her hips slightly, reaching in her pocket for the phone she had for emergencies only. 

I'm safe, Coach took me in when he saw me walking in the storm. I'll be home when the roads are clear. 

She hissed when he turned the truck off, cabin lights blinding her. But he shifted her off his lap, opened the door, and climbed out. When he turned he offered her his hand, and she blushed as her eyes traveled past it, a noticeable bulge and a small spot of wetness staining his pants where her hips were. She wondered if she had the same stain on her jeans. 

He had her in his arms before she could blink, snapping her out of her haze. She barely absorbed the home, another two-story four square. It was better kept than Ana's, even in the dark. Floorboards that didn't creek under the weight of both of them as he carried her – legs wrapped tight around his waist – through the front door. 

Her feet were set on solid wood, a brief moment of clarity through the fog as he turned to close the door. A solid click of a lock. And then, his lips were on hers. 

Soft, demanding. If she thought she was consumed by him before, this must be what it meant to be devoured. Hands, rough and calloused, cradled her face. His thumb was against her cheek, pulling her closer as if he couldn't get enough. His fervor, all-consuming and suffocating ignites her own. Her hands tangle into the hair at the base of his neck. Her chest pressed to his. 

Their bodies moved as if possessed. Hands everywhere as they moved, lips only parting for seconds as shirts flew off with the wind. Legs moved on their own accord, strong arms pushing against furniture from his entire life – blindly leading her to the stairs.  But as her ankles hit the first step she fell back, their kiss breaking as she lay on the carpet runner. His eyes were somehow depthless as he gazed at her, eyebrow cocked as she bit her swollen lips.

"We can go upstairs," he offered. She shook her head no, her hands drifting to the front zipper of her sports bra. His eyes tracked the movement like a hawk, an almost audible gulp forming in his throat. 

"T–The living room?" Again she shook her head, her chest bared to him as he knelt. Finally, he was to feel the tightness in his chest, the same twisting feeling she felt in his presence. Breathless and needy as she unbuttoned her jeans. 

"No," she nearly whispered. "Here." 

His hands shoved hers aside, kneeling in front of her as he pulled at the fabric at her hips. Her jeans and panties disappeared in a flash. He was between her legs in a flash, the edge of the step holding her cunt to his eye level. 

"Such a pretty cunt," he murmured, leaning forward. She blushed, raising her hands to her face before he looked up. He placed a kiss on her stomach, eyes fluttering as he began to kiss down. "Don't hide from me, malyshka . I've waited long enough for you." 

She could barely get a whimper out before he licked a broad stripe down her cunt. 

It was hard to believe, as he feasted hungrily over her. She hadn't known that she could feel sparks fly in her. That her entire body would arch off the staircase as he seemed on a mission for his tongue to find every nerve in her clit. There was no feasible way for her to contain the sounds she was making, even if she wanted to.

Her fingers threaded through his hair, tugging and pulling as a finger suddenly filled her. She felt stretched wide. Far more than she could attempt herself during muffled nights, attempting not to wake her sleeping foster sister as she fantasized about eyes darker than the shadows that held her. 

And he took his time, working her into a frenzy as he slowly thrust that finger inside her. His tongue continued blatant teasing, almost torture as he pushed her closer and closer to the edge with each stripe. It was overwhelming, a plethora of senses coming together to wind her higher and higher with each passing stroke. She was hardly coherent when she broke, half sobs and moans flowing freely from her mouth as she thanked saints she no longer believed in for his tongue. 

He barely let up. His fingers, before one was suddenly two, stretched her already overstimulated cunt as he rose to kiss her. 

The salty tang of his mouth on hers, the juices from her that coated his lips, tasted like ambrosia as his pants met hers – discarded to the wayside as she felt a hardness against her side. Thick and hard as his fingers worked to bring her to that edge again. 

"Please Sasha," she whimpered between breaths, hands uselessly clutching at his sides. His fingers found that spot, pressing against her front wall as she shook, ripping a moan from her. He made to pull away, earning him a whine and a pawing at his sides like a kitten when you try to take away their favorite toy. 

"Gotta be safe, malyshka ," he murmured, attempting to get up again but she just pulled him back.

"Uh uh," she whined, adjusting so he fell right between her legs. His cock brushed against her oversensitive clit, eliciting a moan from both of them. "Wanna feel you. Is just been you… please, Sasha." 

He groaned, a soft nod as he used one of his hands to notch himself at her entrance. Her nails dug into his sides as he began to press inside, his cock larger than his fingers prepared here for. She whimpered as he pressed in an inch, only to pull back and press in another. Each time carving a space for himself. Each press split her apart so that she could be molded just for him. 

Soon their hips met, an ache scratched as he practically laid on top of her. Chest to chest, nose to nose, he didn't look away from her as he slowly pulled away, only to thrust back into the hilt again. Her breath knocked out of her throat, each thrust removing the air from her lungs and placing it in his as their bodies became one,

"Fuck," he muttered, revenant as he looked down, a bulge in her lower stomach looking suspiciously like the cock inside her. " You take me so well, so good for me. Always so perfect. " 

Each stroke hit something inside her. A stroke to flame, a second wave ( or was it the third? Fourth?) threatening to crash as his hips drove hers into the stains beneath them. There would be marks in the morning. Bruises around reddened skin, signs of how well he filled her. Signs of how little she cared about the pain when the pleasure crescendoed to the clouds. To the home of the saints.

He kisses her, mad and fervently as his pace begins to falter. Hips slam against hips, mouths at war to see who could taste who the most. He snakes a hand, switching all his weight to a side, down her torso to meet her clit, causing her to cry out.

"One more, Alina," he panted into her lips. " One more for me." 

She was never good at denying him. She'd been following his instruction for nearly four years. And he was always right. Just a few more and her toes curl, lips parted in a silent cry as her body falls apart. The pleasure overwhelms her, turns her brain to static as all she thinks of is him.  

"Fuck, so tight," he groaned, forehead falling to rest on the stair at her head. "All mine, my Aina ." It became a chant. His Alina. Over and over until he buries himself to the base, pressing into her so hard she wondered if she’d feel the phantom of his hips long after they separated. But the thought gets washed away with the tide of warmth that fills her cunt as he fills her more than she thought possible. 

Ana doesn't notice her absence for the three days Alina spends in Aleksander's bed. Nor does she notice that Alina no longer spends long nights walking home from the grocers. The woman has no time to, and another foster child was sent to her home during the winter break. A boy this time. And Alina would've helped care for the youngling, had she not been planning her departure. 

Less than a hundred and fifty-two days and she would shake off the town of Ketterdam. She would wash away the rust and dust of the city, Os Alta in her sights with a fresh diploma printed in her hands. This time she wouldn't be the only one dreaming of her own gym, a child to hold and eyes dark as the night to welcome her home. She would pack all her belongings in a new duffle bag, purchased as a reward for her acceptance to the Ravkan Olympic team. The bag would get tossed into the back of a black pickup truck, and she wouldn't think about the city again.

[thechaoticrow]

the darkling is the andrew tate of the grishaverse

[rjscottie]

friendly reminder regarding shadow and bone!

ship who you want to ship and please tag your ships!! I’ve spent the past three days knee deep in the darklina tag and while I am THRIVING for all the blessed content this incredible fandom makes, I’m seeing a lot of anti-darklina in our tag for some reason. ship who you want to ship and feel free to talk about why you don’t ship other things! that’s all good! just please think before sending out needless hate to people because of a fictional character, and if you don’t ship darklina or malina or what have you, don’t tag it as such! 

we’re not out here about to regress into policing people for wanting two fictional characters together like it’s 2015. 

*also, and I cannot stress this enough, please for the love of god, do not send hate to any of the actors. I’ve heard about some nasty things being sent to Archie and Danielle at least, that is not ok and never will be. These are real people trying to do their job. let’s be respectful of their privacy and humanity.

final thoughts: I love this fandom, I love these people, I love that we can have conversations about these fascinating characters. It feels so incredible to be a part of a fandom that is so alive, I feel like a kid again. Let’s make this a positive and respectful space and be kind to one another. 

[hard-times-paramore]

Wait you guys actually ship the Darkling with Alina? I thought that was a joke

[umbrylcrow]

I didn’t think I’d ever make a post like this but after sitting on my feelings for too long, I just have to to get it out there.

I was a mod and creator of the Darklina server. I left it last year and you shouldn’t join it.

I know everybody is obsessed with receipts because lying on the internet is popular for whatever reason. I don’t have really any outside of what was discussed privately in a server between me, two other mods, and two friends who were part of the server. I won’t post much outside one or maybe two things (and I have to copy-paste what was said as screenshots are not cooperating right now) because I really don’t want this post to be long and I want it over with. I just need to get my feelings out there for some sort of catharsis. Maybe even to heal.

To get it out of the way: I was heavily bullied whilst modding the server. In fact, it kind of went beyond bullying and went into abuse frankly. This went on for months until I couldn’t take it anymore and finally left for my own safety and mental health. However, as foolish as it might sound, the damage was done and I actually now have lingering trauma due to the amount of shit I got in the server. I literally can get triggered now hearing of events like what I went through and have, in fact, been triggered or close to.

Even thinking about what happened is making me extremely sick and on the edge of causing myself to become triggered.

When the server was small, things were just fine. I was having fun and there were two other mods with me whom were friends. It was just the three of us at first. I was very excited to have started my first server. I wanted people to have fun and share a space where they could talk about the things they enjoyed.

We had rules which prevented any type of prejudice, character/ship hate, etc. These rules were consistently broken. The amount of Mal and Malina hate as well as Nikolai hate was out of control even when he kept telling people to cut it out. Nobody respected us as mods or our rules.

As the server grew we brought more people into modding yet I was the one doing most of it. I had to make the decision after somebody was warned three times to take them into a separate chat to talk to them about why their words were hurting others. I was talked down to and they left before I could settle things. I was not being nasty, simply trying to explain that their words were harmful and bordered on aphobia and victim blaming.

I always tried to steer conversations in a way arguments wouldn’t break out. I was literally called a bitch at one point for just trying to do my job as a mod. At another point I was told I was a downer who couldn’t let anybody have fun after I told people to lay off somebody else because they were really going in on somebody. Bullying isn’t fun, it’s fucking awful.

Constantly I was called names and put down and invalidated. I was often misgendered and had my sexuality disrespected. When I brought up being misgendered somebody said ‘why does it matter?’

This shit went on and on and on and my mental health was getting so bad. I was depressed all the time and just didn’t even want to deal with the server anymore but I felt I had to. My fiancee noticed and became extremely angry at these people because she knew how excited I was to create this server which was the first I’d ever made. She joined the server to watch out for me but they couldn’t be online always at the same time I was.

The other mods (outside of one) ignored all this, never tried to back me up. Never tried to back anybody up. One mod especially always ignored anything bad going on and only ever talked when things weren’t going down. The mods refused to mod.

What really made my stomach turn was when some individuals in the server began to speak of underage fic in a very fetishistic way. Some people in the server were/are OBSESSED with writing it. Somebody else voiced being uncomfortable with it and that it triggered them. They were DOGPILED by these other authors. Me and one other mod tried to calm things down and these fic writers who were totally fine with underage lashed out at us. I was alone at one point during this and they demanded a Dead Dove channel be made for them so they could discuss underage away from everybody else then if it bothered people so much.

I did not want to make the channel but was overruled by the various other mods online at the time and one was made. However, I pointed out that Discord TOS doesn’t even allow talk of that so another mod literally had to say in the rules of the server that underage wasn’t allowed but Dead Dove would stay up for other darker themes.

I never touched that channel, being completely disgusted by it. Other mods watched it instead.

The person that was dogpiled on left the server after that and I don’t blame them. They were contacted later to make sure they were alright and luckily were, they just didn’t feel welcome anymore because these individuals and that broke my heart because I set out to make a safe enviroment.

Now I wanted to kick these people because of this but once again I was overruled by mods.

I left modding soon after but remained as a Founder in the server for another two months.

During those months I continued to be severely bullied. Called names, talked over, disrespected. It was a lot to deal with until finally I just broke and left. My fiancee left the server soon after with this farewell message as she had had it with those in the server:

I’m sorry to do this but I will be leaving the server too. I joined because Crow made it, they were so excited to create and be part of this server & watching their enthusiasm die and turn into constant stress and upset has been, frankly, infuriating to me.

The majority of you are incredibly lovely people and I wish you all the best. Some of you, however, have left a very bad taste in my mouth for the way you have treated Crow, the other mods and your fellow server members. I’ll be frank, they way some of you disregard peoples’ traumas and boundaries as their own problem and have so little empathy has greatly disgusted me, especially after witnessing what unfolded in fandom venting. 

I am just seriously not here for excusing the writing of - and lack of tagging - of literal paedophilia. It is legitimately the last straw for me. Y’all know damn well most of it isn’t being written to safely explore trauma (which is valid), it’s being written to fetishize. A certain topic of discussion that led to the forming of the dead dove channel is proof of that. It’s vile and y’all should know better.

I am not as nice or forgiving as Crow and at this point I do not care what anyone thinks of me. I have watched my fiancée have something they loved by ruined, I’ve watched their mental health suffer because some people here cannot follow rules or abide by basic human decency. So I’m done and I’m not going to mince my words about why. 

Bye.

And then she left too.

The mod who kept ignoring anything at all happening deleted what my fiancee said because she was afraid it’d cause drama but y’know, ignoring everything else people said was perfectly fine. People showed how much they thought of me in the server after this because some peeked it. They questioned who I was, referred to me as ‘just some person’ when I was the original creator and one of three original mods of the damn server. It seriously hurt to know my existence was literally nothing to them.

For a bit after one of the mods who is my friend would give me little updates including how mods are still being incredibly disrespected there and people are still pushing for underage to be discussed in the server. When told to make their own server then, these individuals said no because they didn’t want to mod. So they acknowledge modding is difficult but continue to be little assholes to those who keep the damn server running.

I’m so sure this post will be shared in the server, I’m sure people will want to discredit me, might even come into my inbox to get me to delete it or bully me. I don’t care anymore. I just don’t. I know what the truth is. Others (including a WHOLE OTHER SERVER) know what I’m saying is true.

There is HEAVY bullying and disgusting behavior that occurs in this server (or did) and I am warning you all to steer clear. It has travelled so far from what I hoped and I am disgusted and glad to be rid of it but I didn’t leave unscathed. The fact I literally have trauma from this bothers me constantly.

Even so much as this server crossing my mind makes me feel sick to my stomach. I don’t want that for anybody else. Please stay safe and stay away.

EDIT: Hey, don’t send anon hate to anybody in the Darklina server please. Especially not the mods. You don’t know who were the ones responsible for the behavior or encouraged it and I made sure to mention no names so nobody would get hate. (Not every mod was okay with what was happening or is happening.) Yet I am seeing people who were NOT OKAY with the behavior get absolutely disgusting anons including death and r*pe threats.

I cannot believe this. Stop it. Just stop.

[doesitmatterseriously]

Jesus shit I disappear a lot.

I’ve been lurking on ao3 a lotttt. An unhealthy amount. And I’ve gotten into darklina.

Listen…I know it’s toxic but I like trash okay? And I read the grisha books and fucking HATED HATED Them. I ranted to my fiancé for like 2 months. Thank the stars for fanfic authors!!

I literally found a fic that I have accepted as the official ending. seriously.  it’s called “Start a war” by nymja on ao3.

I’m also beyond looking forward to the following on ao3:

“Dark Guardian “ by FairyRingsandWings (this is one of my most anticipated ones!) it’s incredibly interesting and is an au that involves demons/etc. it’s amazing and well researched. She runs an amazing tumblr under the name @thedarklingxalina Check it out!!

“ The Fight we never had” by PoetHrotsvitha.  this one is amazing because it’s self-aware it’s just hilarious. It’s been one of the most fun ones that I’ve read in a very long time in the comment section is to die for. I am so looking forward to the story and can’t wait to see how it ends. I’m definitely rooting for our creepy Alexsander. I dunno if she has a tumblr or else I’d put her user name. But seriously this one is fucking fabulous!!!!!

“ I have a longing” by LRcee

Jesus this one is just a feel good au. I fucking love It and I hope the author continues to write more because the writing is amazing. It’s intelligently written and every time I read it I spend the whole time smiling!

“ forgiveness doesn’t taste like this” by EvilPeaches

I never in 1 million years thought I would like any story with Alina and Ivan. And normally I do not like dark fics. Parts of this were really hard to read and there is another story like where she puts deleted scenes and extras, and there was literally one part in “ deleted scenes “ that I had to start and stop and take a break for a good while after reading. That’s a sign of a good writer. Anything that makes me uncomfortable and makes me genuinely think afterwards.  it’s at the end now with only one more chapter left but I’ll be damned if I wasn’t rooting for Ivan even though I am literally a hard-core darklingxalina shipper. This is one of those stories that is incredibly well written and just made me feel so many different emotions. It is very dark. But it really goes in depth about how in mortality and misery would affect you as well as your relationships with other people.

“A Space of Flowers” by ecphrasis

Part of series “ Darklina Cottagecore AU” , The entire series is amazing. I literally never thought I would be interested in a cottage core au but it is beautifully written and the author did a lot of research into making it feel like it’s in the century that it’s taking place in. It’s heart wrenching in and has so much angst. I truly hope that the author continues it and also that they get a happy ending. But the writing is just beyond beautiful. Fuck it is just gorgeous! Written by @ekphrastic 

”Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times….” by xxwalkinwonderlandxx

another AU that is in progress. It’s just incredibly interesting and I’m really looking forward to see where it goes. Not too much is given away so with each chapter update I’m still guessing and wondering what’s going to happen. Has been an incredibly fun read and can’t wait to see more! 

And the final one that is in progress…

“ I wanna see you in the light of the morning “ by renaegeorge

Omgggg. This one is so hilarious. Like whenever I’m having a bad day I’ll read this. I can’t wait to see how the story goes because it is just a feel good fic. I fucking love it! Please check this one out. The author is amazing and she writes so incredibly well. 

I have no clue if anyone actually read this but I beg you to please check these out and if any of these authors have tumblr that I don’t know about them please tag them so that way people can see their Tumblr in case they write on there. leave comments and kudos! Let them know if you enjoy it! And if anyone has any really good fics to recommend to me let me know. This isn’t even half of what I have bookmarked but I’m always interested in fics. 

These are my current favorites that are still in progress. I’ll do my other favorites at some point. But if you hated the ending of the grisha series like I did then please check out “Start a war”. I genuinely accept that as the ending now. 

And if you hate the darkling, then I totally understand. I totally get it but don’t attack me. People like what they like. Like straight up.