ludarklina-fan-spot

[ludarklina-fan-spot]

There is something hypnotically compelling about Aleksander—something that has stayed in my mind ever since I watched the series in 2023 and read Demon. The more I think about him, the more certain I am: Aleksander is not only a fascinating character, but someone who truly belongs in stories written for adults. Stories that do not shy away from the complexity of human nature and dare to hold its gaze. He is perfect not because he is easy to love or simple to understand, but precisely because he is not.

Aleksander challenges the simplistic labels of “hero” and “villain” that fiction for younger audiences often relies on. He exists in that grey space where most of us find ourselves when the world stops being black and white. And in that space, he reigns. He is power and sorrow, a visionary and a warning. He embodies the contradictions that adulthood brings like regret, responsibility, longing, and compromise. He has lived for centuries, bearing witness to the repeated cruelties of history and still clinging to the hope that things could be different. That his people, persecuted Grisha, could live in safety and freedom. And yet, the means he chose to protect them are exactly where many draw the line. But that is what makes him so exceptional. In characters like him, I see a kind of honesty that is rare and precious.

Aleksander made me ask uncomfortable questions: What would I do if I had the power to protect those I love? Would I make different choices? Would ambition, pain, and revenge affect me too?

These are questions for people who have lived a little, who have made mistakes, who have loved deeply and maybe lost, who understand that life is rarely tidy. Aleksander belongs in stories for adults because his arc demands a certain emotional depth to be fully appreciated. While young protagonists often wrestle with first love or the discovery of who they are, Aleksander already knows who he is and has come to terms with the cost of that knowledge or at least tries to. That internal conflict, that painful self-awareness, makes him a rich subject for a mature narrative.

His suffering and his struggle against a brutal, merciless world where passivity would have meant annihilation are a perfect example of how he fits the mold of a tragic hero. His tragedy stems from a deeply human, heartbreaking need to protect, to fix what is broken, even at the cost of great personal sacrifice. He is morally grey in the truest sense: not because he is edgy or cruel for shock value, but because he follows a path carved by grief, necessity, and an unrelenting sense of duty. He carries the weight of hatred because someone had to. Because the enemy left him no choice.

Even his relationship with Alina is full of nuance. It’s not just about light and shadow, it’s about power and vulnerability, longing and the tragedy of being misunderstood. There is desire and deep love, yes, but also deep respect and recognition. He sees her not as a symbol or savior, but as a person. That alone sets their bond far apart from the oversimplified romances often depicted in fantasy. What exists between them isn’t pure or innocent but it matters. It reflects a kind of love that adults understand: shaped by pain, loss, and difficult choices.

Aleksander’s story deserves to be told without compromise. A story where we sit with his silence, his anger, his tenderness. Where we not only witness his actions, but understand them. He is the kind of character who would flourish in a narrative that doesn’t shy away from harsh truths or emotional complexity. His origins, the way grief shaped him, the weight of immortality, the slow petrification of a heart that still dares to hope - these are not footnotes. They are the core of the story.

Even in a fantasy world, Aleksander feels real. His choices reflect the hard decisions many would rather not face. And that is why he belongs in adult literature, not as a side note or a caution, but as the beating heart of a story that embraces complexity. A story that understands that heroes don’t always wear white, and that sometimes, a line must be crossed so that others can sleep safely at night.

Aleksander is not a fantasy. He is a mirror. And he deserves to be seen clearly.

[ludarklina-fan-spot]

It might never not be tiring to hear the words, “But they’re better off as friends,” and “Why can’t a man and a woman just be friends?” Followed by, “Why does everything have to be romantic?”[.] Well…it doesn’t, but we need to stop acting like romance is some foreign concept that only TV and film push down our throats when it’s a part of many lives in the real world. [...] And no, romance isn’t always necessary to equate to great storytelling, but we need to stop acting like “shipping” is ruining everything. [...] Why does it bother you what someone else desires? [...] Why is it so threatening that someone else watches TV differently than you? It’s bizarre to be so intimidated by someone else’s fictional opinions on social media. The next time you feel strongly about looking down on “shippers,” it’s time to check your internalized misogyny and question why you’re disturbed by people finding joy in the media they consume.

-- 'We Need To Stop Mocking Fans for Shipping' (Lady Geeks Media)

[ludarklina-fan-spot]

Alina, I want to love you but .....

Alina's choices add complexity to her character .... Ummmm ...... No, Genya's, Sasha's and even Luda's do. Alina's choices aren't that complex until ep 3 or 5 of s 1 when she hasn't got an arse to stick her head up but most of the time her choices are just made to suit the status quo. It's complex, it's heart breaking because it would seem two different characters emerge in the silver grey robe when she is forced to advocate for herself even though Genya makes it clear she didn't have to and during the winter fete when she is with Grisha, being Grisha and Sasha celebrating her coming into herself

Some fans of Alina argue that both versions of Alina are hated. I don't hate Alina, either of them, in some ways I can relate to Jessie's version, these are personal and not pretty, I liked the fact that sometimes book Alina could behave less like the insipid brats I went to school with and more like a soldier. Though, those moments were precious few. This is her tragedy. I think , not assume, others can relate too.

One of the best things about being an adult is independence of thought and critical analysis. Alina and to be fair this is mainly via no fault of her own does not possess these skills. Mal, Anya, the loss of her parents are partially to blame.

Even so ....

However!

Here's the thing. Let go of Peter Pan's hand Wendy!

I hate the choices adult Alina makes because they lack logic and consideration for the greater good. For herself. For Ravka and Grisha. I hate it when she doesn't behave like a soldier rather she behaves like a "hopes and dreams" brat.

Being young doesn't mean anything in warfare. Aleksander and the other Grisha know this and I do believe what with being born in a war torn country and having lost so much already Alina would have had that childishness schooled out of her by the time she was an adult.

Sadly no, her parasitic naivety remains with her just like her need to be abused and walk away from independence, community and duty..

Another mass thank you goes to @lilu787788 for the long talk and insightful remarks. I am hoping to extend on this and make it a proper blog rather then a grumble. EG., does Alina treat Grisha better in the end of series 2, what does Alina get out of letting Ivan, Baghra and Mal abusing her? What would her apology to Sasha sound like it were to be sincere? Was she using Genya to hurt Sasha in series 2 and is Alina capable of being Baghra the sequel?

Thanks for reading my ramble. Again, this is just a ramble. Not an attack. I do not hate Alina and I would respectfully follow Jessie Mei Li to anywhere but the loo if I were rich enough to go to the cons she attends. Alas. No. This is just a ramble about how heartbreaking Alina's story is and how she can never escape her addictions. We all see Alina in different ways. No one is the same. Please keep your pearls out of your hands and ride your morality shetlands into the sunset.

@ladylrbloom

Gifs, @ladylrbloom

[ludarklina-fan-spot]

Jessie has a new insta profile pic and article about the seasonfrom Resonate

[ludarklina-fan-spot]

I wanted to write a long detailed post about Darklina but my brain is too tired so here's some gifs.

You have a tribe

You are more then a weapon, A saviour. You are loved.

You never needed him. You needed us and we want you always.

You are our Alina.

Inspired by @lilu787788 Your posts are amazing mate. Keep it up.

Gifs by @ladylrbloom

[ludarklina-fan-spot]

Jessie kitten eats ben's bunny .... in some way this is cute, right???!!!

caps by @ladylrbloom

[ludarklina-fan-spot]

Before Darluda and Lusander tragic magic.

2014 the pace restaurant la, 2 vamps and a narnian prince ....

[ludarklina-fan-spot]

Did I fuck up?

Well .....

Yes .....

Awesome!

Best fuck up eva by @ladylrbloom

[ludarklina-fan-spot]

When faced with a puppy that can kill you .....

It's best to just smile back until Ivan comes back.

The adventures of the Alina puppy by @ladylrbloom

[ludarklina-fan-spot]

I see something deeply unsettling in the way some young people approach Aleksander. It’s not just that they dislike him, that's fair, everyone is entitled to their opinion. But the level of hatred they express is not only disproportionate to their understanding, it feels like a performance. It’s not rooted in genuine engagement or critique but in sheer emotional outbursts: shouting, mocking, name-calling, and vilifying him in ways that feel more like a show than anything else. What’s most troubling is how loud this condemnation is and how empty it is in terms of actual understanding. We’re living in a time when emotional intelligence, trauma awareness, and social consciousness are celebrated, so why is it so difficult for these young viewers to extend those same values to a character like Aleksander? The speed at which they abandon the very principles they claim to uphold the moment a character challenges their worldview is amazing. Aleksander isn’t some mindless villain or sadistic monster, no matter how often they says he is. His actions are born from years of pain, betrayal, loss, and an overwhelming need to protect his people from history repeating itself. Yet, instead of attempting to understand the deeper layers of his character, the response is pure disdain. These are the same people who claim to care about empathy for trauma survivors, who value moral ambiguity in characters, and yet Aleksander gets nothing but rejection. It’s not just that they don’t like him, it’s that they refuse to understand him. They throw around words like "manipulator", "villain", "monster", "groomer", without even considering whether they apply in his case. They strip away centuries of his personal suffering, the weight of his decisions, the heartbreak and loneliness he carries, and reduce him to nothing more than a one-dimensional bad guy. And here’s the thing: they don’t hate him because he’s evil. They hate him because he’s complex. Because he challenges their understanding of good and evil. He forces them to think and wrestle with moral grey areas. And instead of taking that challenge, they retreat into their comfort zones and shout louder.It’s a kind of intellectual cowardice, really. It’s easier to dismiss a character like Aleksander with a label than to sit with the discomfort of trying to understand his motivations. But here's the thing: Aleksander doesn’t need to be loved by them unconditionally. He doesn’t need to be idolized by them. But he does deserve to be understood. And it seems to me that too many of these young voices, who claim to appreciate complexity, are either unwilling or unable to do that. The more mature readers and viewers, those who’ve lived long enough to understand that life isn’t just black and white don’t shout or blindly condemn. They reflect. They see that Aleksander’s actions were shaped by survival, by war, by love, and by loss. They see the tragedy of a man who has lived for centuries in isolation, carrying the burden of all that pain. They understand that his greatest tragedy wasn’t his downfall, but the fact that no one ever really saw him. Not his mother and not his lover. And, tragically, not those who claim to be his critics. Younger generation claims to be champions of complexity and nuance, and yet, when faced with a character like Aleksander who is drenched in sorrow and burdened with trauma they shrink. They refuse to engage. They diminish him. They condemn him. And all the while, they shout, not to uncover the truth, but to silence it.

It’s frustrating, honestly. Because it’s not about blindly supporting Aleksander, it’s about having the maturity to look beyond the surface, to understand what makes him tick, and to ask yourself: Why does he do what he does? But sadly, the loudest voices seem too focused on proving their moral superiority to take the time to ask that question. And in doing so, they miss the real story. That's why I think that Aleksander would be perfect for a genre intended for an older audience, but more on that next time.

[ludarklina-fan-spot]

There is a common belief among many young people—and especially among Sasha’s critics that he has no right to suffer because of his age, and that he should’ve long since become immune to stress. Nothing could be further from the truth. Let’s be honest: Aleksander suffers from PTSD in a very real way, a way that is often overlooked because it is buried beneath his power, his control, and the fearsome image of a general he projects. But the trauma he carries within him is not fictional or exaggerated; it is tragically real when you begin to take a closer look at his character.

He has lived for centuries, through endless wars, betrayals, and losses. The sheer amount of grief he has experienced is unimaginable—friends, lovers, soldiers, innocent Grisha he tried to protect. All of them were taken from him, one by one, until grief became a constant companion in his existence. And that kind of loss doesn’t fade with time. It stays. It grows. It changes a person. It never heals on its own.

Aleksander’s mind is never free from the weight of memory. He doesn’t just remember the past—he relives it. His trauma isn’t only emotional; it is deeply psychological. He has survived nightmares that no human mind should be able to withstand, and the worst part is, he can never fully escape them. There is no final chapter to his suffering. No natural end where he might rest. Immortality, the thing that defines him, has become a slow, suffocating prison. It keeps him in the same cycle, century after century, haunted by everything he couldn’t save, couldn’t change.

That breaks a person. It changes how you see the world. It changes how you see yourself.

He isolates not because he wants to, but because the thought of losing people again terrifies him. That fear is rooted so deeply in him that it controls how close he lets anyone get. He craves connection, desperately, but the closer someone gets, the more real the risk of loss becomes. He’s been burned too many times. People have betrayed him, misunderstood him, left him, or simply died. And even though he is powerful, perhaps one of the most powerful Grisha to ever live, he is helpless against time. Helpless against mortality. And he knows it.

That helplessness, that vulnerability, that awareness that everything good is fleeting keeps him distant, even when all he wants is to be seen and loved. His PTSD doesn’t just sit quietly in the background. It seeps into every part of him, especially in moments of frustration, anger, or perceived betrayal. His temper isn’t about petty control or manipulation—it is a symptom of everything building up inside him. All the rage, the fear, the grief—it accumulates until it needs release. And when it explodes, it’s overwhelming. That’s when we see the shadows lash out, not just as weapons, but as an expression of his inner torment.

He lashes out at the world because he doesn’t know where else to put all that pain. He was never allowed to mourn in peace—not even after Luda’s death. He had to survive. He had to lead. He had to fight. And sometimes, the only way he can function is by hardening himself, letting anger mask the sorrow beneath.

When it comes to his connection with Alina, it becomes even sadder—because she became a rare flicker of light in a life built around shadows. But that only makes life harder for him. Because suddenly, he has something to lose again. Someone who matters. Someone he might care about enough to truly fear losing.

That fragile hope for connection terrifies him, even as he clings to it. And it’s that fear, of losing her, of being vulnerable, of being hurt—that keeps him from fully opening up. Even as he reaches for her, I can sense hesitation, a trembling underneath it all. He wants to protect her—not just from the world, but from himself. He wants to love her, but he’s afraid she’ll leave him like everyone else. That she’ll see only the darkness and turn away.

It’s such a tragic contradiction, his deepest desire is love and understanding, but his trauma convinces him he can’t have it. That if he lets someone in, it will only end in pain. And in a way, he’s right. Because immortality, though often portrayed as a great gift, is one of his greatest curses. He must live through the aftermath of everything. He has to bear it all while the world forgets, rebuilds, and moves on. He stays still while time pulls everything else away from him.

That loneliness, that haunting awareness that he is always destined to remain, breaks him, again and again.

What makes it so tragic is that his suffering doesn’t come from some malicious ambition or hunger for power. It is rooted in love. In fear. In a desire to protect. In guilt. All of it is profoundly human. He isn’t a monster because he feels nothing. He is a tragic figure because he feels everything too deeply. And over time, those feelings hardened into armor—because it was the only way he learned to survive. But beneath that armor is a man who is exhausted, wounded, grieving, and yearning for peace he believes he’ll never have.

So when I look at Aleksander, I will never see a villain. I see someone deeply hurt who still fights not only in the wars around him but in the wars within him that never leave him in peace. And that makes him one of the most beautiful characters I’ve ever seen, ever loved and I WILL ALWAYS DEFEND HIM.

[ludarklina-fan-spot]

I made her myself.

[ludarklina-fan-spot]

I order you to get on your knees!

[ludarklina-fan-spot]

New pics of jessie from the season launch in Hong Kong

[ludarklina-fan-spot]

In the show Alina makes a speech about the stag picking her so that is why she can have the stag's power and Sasha can't but in series 2 I am pretty sure The Sea Whip did not offer it'sself up to Alina and very much wanted to live in it's cosy cave undisturbed. I don't think it got a chance to demonstrate whether or not it could want to be her Amplifier whereas Sasha. Mal and The Stag could.

Alina does get it's power but I am wondering if what Alina tells Sasha on the skiff is correct?

This isn't a hate post about Alina but I am questioning her grasp on logic and am wishing they had shot series 2 in an entirely different way. If you do reply to this post please keep it hate free, this is research for a blog.

If there's something I missed in series 2, please let me know, I haven't watched it in .... I only watched it once.

[ludarklina-fan-spot]

Choice? That sounds nice. What does it feel like to have one because I do not remember.

Gif by @ladylrbloom

[ludarklina-fan-spot]

All I did was move my leg a few inches to the right and the Alina kitty scratched me!

scratchies by @ladylrbloom