#darklina prompt

[burninghoneyatdusk]

[the-element-siren]

Darklina Prompt

Based on a Hallmark trilogy called the Wedding Veil Trilogy. Altered so it can be a mixed friend group

Alina and Inej met as roommates in undergrad, Fedyor was the TA for their general history who they helped save from a bully and Matthias is his favorite cousin, who wanted to get away from his strict religious parents after he was able to accept Fedyor who came out to him. So after his first year at college in Fjeda, he transferred. It didn't help that they kept trying to force women on him so he could find the "perfect traditional" wives.

The four of them have stayed friends and make it a point to meet up every four months for a two-week travel vacation where they get lost in some random tourist trap city. On their current trip to Bhez Ju, they find this random broach that has a very old symbol of luck. It's said to bring the owner luck where they needed the most. Inej, in a completely out-character move, demands that they buy it and Alina should be the first to have it. She finally ended the toxic mess that was her situation with Mal. Calling it a relationship is an insult to the word. They all agree and split the cost and return home.

Except for Matthias, who is in Halmhend (Fjerdan border town), the others are scattered all over Ravka. Alina is in Os Alta as a curator for their Ravkan Art Museum. Inej is in Novokribirsk, running a program for abused and kidnapped children. Matthias works with a security firm in IT and as one of their translators, he speaks Ravkan, Fjerdan, and Shu. Fedyor runs a culinary department at a small university in Adena.

Alina meets Aleksander at a food festival, he runs the charity division of his family's foundation. He was looking into donating funds to their restoration department, which has been losing funding and painters regularly for the last few years.

Inej's program is at risk of losing its building. Some company is buying up older buildings so they can knock them down and build some hotel or other building. Aleksander puts her in touch with his frat brother, Kaz, and his assistant Jesper, who is very good at finding ways to help create funding for programs like this.

Nina, Kaz's foster sister, is a type of federal law enforcement and needs some specialty digital assistance. She's trying to link a group to a very big crime and needs a good codebreaker and linguist. Matthias is recommended to her.

Ivan, Aleksander's cousin, joined the university as a language professor. He and Fedyor's offices are right next door. They barely talk outside of pleasantries. Something happens, then bonding, followed by some slowburn. The entire university is shipping them.

[jomiddlemarch]

Last Sentence Tag Game

Last Sentence Tag Game: Write the latest line  from your wip (or post where you last left off in your art) and tag as many people as there are words in the line. Make a new post, don’t reblog.

Tagged by: @tortoisesshells and @aquitainequeen

I bring you, at looong last, the last line of Chapter 29 of what it is to be a thin crescent moon. (Thanks should go to @tortoisesshells, whose recent ask box prompt inspired me to write this...)

“It wasn’t only General Kirigan who has needed you for a time beyond time, Starkova Kirigana.”

Tagging @orlissa @vesperass-anuna @amarguerite @oldshrewsburyian @asteraceae-blue @samsylviasmoustache @broadwaybaggins @fericita-s @sagiow @kivrin @holy-muffins @incognito-princess @saathi1013 @lucyemers @mistressdickens @helenvader

[orlissa]

I don't want to write it, because I have more than enough WIPs, but an amusing story idea/prompt:

Post-Aleksander and Alina take the throne of Ravka. Alina thought that she was prepared for everything that would be needed of her as Tsaritsa: diplomacy, audiences, budget meetings, charity ventures... What she did not prepare for--what didn't even cross her mind--is one of the Tsaritsa's unofficial, but extremely important roles: matchmaker for the nobility

[keira63fic]

Canonverse Darklina Prompts

Collection of the Twitter canonverse prompt-fills I've done.

[starlessmei]

True

He looks at Alina, and a low sob escapes from his throat. His Sun Summoner isn't a Sun Summoner anymore. But he finds that isn't the thing that really startles him. No, her pain, vivid on her features, the tears sliding down her cheeks, and her screams—that's the thing that breaks something inside him.

Yes, she's not his Sun Summoner anymore, but she's still his Alina. She will always be his Alina, whether she likes it or not.

Well, she got what she wanted, right? She always wanted to be normal, mortal, like everyone else. Now she is. Yet he was alone in the world again. Alone to live forever.

He sees she's grabbing the knife she used to stab Oretsev, and he smiles. He can't help himself but think his time has come. He doesn't want to live forever alone; he doesn't want to live without Alina. He had lived a long, too long life. Enough is enough. It was fitting that she was the one to end his life since she was the one to make him feel alive in many years. 

She’s crying, more hysterically, now that she’s walking toward him with the knife. She’s weak and mournful, for herself as well as for him; he’s sure of it. He could outrun her—it would be so easy. Fight her, maybe kill her, and run for his life. Hide for a few years while he thinks of a new plan. It would be so easy, but it’s not what he wants. It won’t make her stay with him. He’s at peace with dying by her hands; if someone deserves to kill him, it’s her.

The chaos of the war around them blurs in the background as she’s standing in front of him. He looks at the knife and then at her pain-filled gaze, her white hair blowing in the wind. He wants to remember every feature on her face, every wrinkle and stain, every shade of her hair and skin—he wants to carry her with him to the next world. Carry her in his old, rusty heart for eternity.

“Will you mourn me?” he asks with a smile. It’s the only thing that matters to him. 

She comes even closer to him, barely an inch separating them now. He can see every thought that passes through her mind; he can feel her hot breath on his face. Her sobbing increases, and she breaks, leaning her forehead on his chest. Her tears cause wet stains on his kefta, not that it matters. She whispers against his still-warm body, her words barely audible. 

“Every day, every second,” she promises, and his smile widens. He wraps his arms around her, holding her tightly. He kisses the top of her hair lovingly and hopes she could stay in his arms. She has already lost so much—she’s in so much pain and he feels it through what was once their tether but now is only his affection for her.

Her hand that holds the knife is at her side, but with the other, she hugs him back. 

“It’s okay, my love. Do what you must; I understand.” A high-pitched wail escapes from her throat and is muffled by his kefta. She pulls back just a little so that she can look at his face, and he tries to make his smile reassuring. To make it easier for her. Her eyes are puffy and red, a steady stream of tears sliding down her beautiful face. She will always be beautiful to him. 

“Is it the truth? Do you love me?” her voice is suddenly steady, her eyes hopeful even though she is about to kill him. Even though she is about to finish all chances for him to say it every day, every second, of their lives. 

He nods and wraps his arms around her, pulling her impossibly closer to him. “Of course I love you; I have loved you since you told me you’re hilarious on our first journey to the Little Palace.” 

“You’re not just saying that, so you think I’ll spare your life, right?” 

He wipes the few tears from her face with his thumb and cups her face. “I know I’m about to die; I don’t want you to spare my life. Me loving you is the greatest truth that I’ve ever told.” He leans his forehead against her, appreciating the last few moments of sharing his life with her. “I have nothing left to lose, Alina. I have already lost you. I’m ready to die.” 

“And you love me even now? Even when I’m… I’m no longer valuable?” she starts shaking and closes her eyes in pain. 

“You are more than your light, Alina. You carry it with you in your eyes, in your mind, but you’ll always be more than your light, and I love you for who you are.” A new stream of tears implodes from her eyes, and she raises her head to kiss him. It’s all-consuming and powerful, and at the same time makes him feel powerless. He would give everything to have more of her lips, more of her warmth, but if it’s the last kiss—he’ll make the most of it. 

He savors her taste, savors the drops of saltiness from her tears, savors the feeling of the beating heart that echos in his ears. But most of all—he savors her love. Savors the way she feels in his arms, and he knows that she wants it to last forever, just like he does. 

And then the pain appears, blinded by its force, making him gasp right into her mouth. She still kisses him even as she buries the knife deep in his abdomen. Even though she sobs and falls apart, she lies him gently on the ground as she kisses him, and stays on her knees beside his bleeding body. 

She breaks the kiss after long moments and moves her head to look at the dripping wound, but he doesn’t let her. He still holds her face, forcing her to look him in the eyes—to see that he doesn’t blame her, that he still loves her. 

“I love you, too,” she whispers and sobs. “I’m so sorry; I had to do it.” She puts her hand next to the wound, and Aleksander understands. She didn’t stab his heart; as she probably should have if she wanted to kill him. It’s in his lower abdomen, and it fucking hurts, but there’s a fair chance he might live. He looks at her, surprised, and suddenly she smiles—it’s the most beautiful smile he has ever seen. 

She looks worryingly around her, as though she only just now remembers where she is and leans forward to whisper in his ear. For the first time since she lost her powers, she stops crying. “I’ll send a healer I trust soon, but you need to pretend for now. Can you do that for me?” 

He blinks a few times, processing her words and ignoring the pain. He can’t believe she has done that; he doesn’t know what to feel but is glad he can still stare at her face and memorize her delicate features. “Of course, milaya,” he whispers and takes a deep breath. He closes his eyes, pretending, as she asks, and hears her giggle. 

She kisses his lips softly, and he can feel her smile against them. “I’ll come to find you, and then it will be just us. Will you wait for me?” He inhales her scent and kisses her back, just barely, just softly, so no one might notice. 

“Always.”

[sparrowsaidwhat]

[anamazingangie]

💕  info about prompt requests 💕 

you can submit prompts in my ask box here, whether you have a tumblr or not!

please name the account the prompt comes from in addition to the prompt so I can provide credit!

I will accept most prompts, but an assortment of prompts that interest me are tagged as #prompt me :)

prompt fills are generally between 100-1000 words.

you can read filled prompts here!

mostly writing Daemon x Rhaenyra these days!

[sailor-hufflepuff]

I did it. I wrote it. (Well, part 1 at least, because it spun out of control.) As a bonus, here’s what I imagine Alina-as-Sailor Sun:

combine your first real fandom with your current one to create a terrible, terrible au

[dcrkalina]

Scars. Claws. Rippling darkness. All things Aleksander gained after Alina had cursed him. All things that forced him to wallow in solitude, but that would end soon. He was going to track her down and force her to take it back. She had to, right?

[marvelmusing]

Thirst Tweets

part of the Q&A Universe

Pairing: Darklina x Fem!Reader (Actors AU)

Summary: With Aleksander and Alina by your side, you suffer through the mortifying ordeal of reading thirst tweets to promote your new film.

Warnings [18+]: discussions of sex, thirst tweets, mentions of filming intimate scenes, hair pulling

Part One • My Masterlist

“So, in front of each of you is a pot filled with tweets about one of your costars,” the producer explains as the people behind the camera make their final preparations before starting filming.

“Who’ve I got…?” you muse, spinning the pot so that you can see the label on the front of it. “Oh, Aleksander.” Frowning, you lean to look at the other two pots on either side of you. “Who has me?”

Alina turns her pot and the two of you lean closer to read the label.

“I do.”

“Then Sasha has Alina’s,” you conclude as Alina settles back in her chair.

He tilts his pot slightly, eyes narrowing as he checks his own label. Then he nods.

“Yes,” he confirms.

“Okay,” the producer says with a smile. “Once we start filming, there’ll be just a quick introduction and then we’ll jump right into it.”

“Quick question,” you say, which has both Aleksander and Alina turning to look at you. “Are these tweets the dirty kind or the weird kind?”

The producer blinks at you, tilting her head aside in confusion.

“I’m sorry?”

“Well, I’ve seen these sort of videos before, and sometimes they’re more funny than filthy, and I was just wondering what kind of video ours is going to be.”

“I think we should just find out,” Alina remarks with a grin, already peering down into her pot filled with tweets about you.

“I’d prefer to be prepared,” you reason.

“As would I,” Aleksander agrees. Alina huffs, rolling her eyes playfully.

“Why don’t I go first and test the waters for you?”

You nod.

“Alright.”

The producer retreats behind the camera, giving you a small countdown before filming begins. Clearing your throat, you straighten in your seat, smoothing down your clothes to ensure you’re presentable. Aleksander nudges his elbow against yours, bringing your eyes to his, and he gives you a soft reassuring smile.

Then filming begins.

“I’m Alina Starkova.”

She tilts her head at you, prompting you to introduce yourself as well. Once you do, you turn to Aleksander.

“I’m Aleksander Morozov, and today we are reading thirst tweets.”

Alina wastes no time, rummaging through the pieces of card in the pot in front of her. Knowing she’s about to read something about you out loud has you tapping your foot nervously. Aleksander loops his pinkie around yours, giving it a gentle squeeze which makes you smile at him.

“It’s this photo of you,” Alina announces, once she’s made her selection.

She turns the piece of card around so that you and Aleksander can see. The image is a screen-cap from the film, where your character is sitting on a window seat wearing her nightdress, the early morning sun glowing behind her. When Alina turns the card back around, her brows scrunch together as she reads the rest of the tweet.

“Just me on my knees for this goddess.”

“That’s not too bad,” you reason, looking at Aleksander for his opinion. He nods, leaning further onto his elbow on the arm of his chair - the one closest to you.

“Quite the compliment really,” he adds in agreement. Alina laughs.

“Let me finish reading.” She reaches over to swat at your knee - bare due to the skirt you’re wearing - which makes you pout, feigning offence at her show of violence to ignore how your skin tingles at her touch. “Just me on my knees for this goddess. Let me get between those thighs, I want to drink her like a sweet summer wine.”

“Um, okay.”

She laughs again, raising a brow at your reaction.

“Okay?”

“Well what am I supposed to say?” You direct your gaze towards the camera. “Thank you.” Quickly, you turn to your left. “Aleksander, your turn now.”

He sighs. Reaching into his pot, he pulls out the first card he can get hold of. There’s a moment of anticipation, as his eyes scour over the words printed there. Then he says in the calmest, most neutral tone you’ve heard from him,

“I would do the most depraved things imaginable to have Alina Starkova’s tits in my mouth.”

A startled laugh gets caught in your throat as you clasp your hands over your face, your cheeks heating at the sound of Aleksander saying such things so casually. Alina laughs uncontrollably, her face flushed giddily as she slides down in her chair.

“I hope that goes in the video,” she says through her laughter. “Because I will immediately be setting that as my ringtone.”

“You along with half the people watching this,” you remark quietly.

Aleksander lowers the card, shooting a scandalised look at you both.

“You know you love us,” Alina teases, wiggling her fingers at him. Aleksander shakes his head with a soft laugh, attempting to hide his smile with faux disapproval.

“Brats, both of you.” He nudges your knee with his. “Your turn now.”

A pout puckers at your lips, and your features crinkling petulantly at the humiliating thought of reading out something horrifically dirty regarding Aleksander. Sensing your reluctance, Alina holds out her hand for you to take.

“I’ll hold your hand, baby.”

Her rings are cool against your skin as she curls her fingers around yours, and she presses her lips chastely to your knuckles, making an affectionate kiss sound as she does so. With your other hand, you reach for a card from the pot.

“It’s just this photo of you…” Turning the card around, you show them a candid image of Aleksander on set. “…and then it says-”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you shake your head.

“Go on,” Alina encourages you.

“I know his dick is big.”

Alina takes the card from you, examining the photo with an extreme level of focus which makes your cheeks burn even hotter. When you risk a glance at Aleksander, you find the tips of his ears are flushed pink despite the neutral expression he is maintaining on his face. His eyes meet yours and you look away quickly.

The weight of Aleksander’s hand on the back of your chair is the only thing you can focus on, alongside the blood rushing in your ears, as Alina picks up another card from the pot in front of her.

For the next half an hour, the three of you read out tweets until you’ve experienced enough embarrassment to keep you flustered for the rest of the afternoon. As you reach the end of filming, there are three cards left. The producer had explained earlier that all three of you would be the subject of these final tweets.

After some encouragement from the two of them, you go first.

“This just says that we’re the definition of bi panic.” That makes Alina laugh, reaching for her own card.

“I want all three of them to rearrange my insides.” Alina looks up at the camera with a coy smile. “Name a time and a place, sweetheart.”

She winks and Aleksander laughs softly, which makes your stomach flip. He picks up his own card, the final one for the video. He turns it over slowly, crossing his ankle over his knee as he reads.

His eyes remain fixed on the words there, reading them several times with flushed cheeks and parted lips, as he attempts to find his voice. He glances at you momentarily and the look on his face makes you squirm in your seat. When he catches Alina’s eye, she grins.

“This tweet is from Alina.”

That makes your jaw drop, your stomach plummeting simultaneously.

“What?”

“Go on Sasha,” she teases in a sing-song voice.

“I-” He falters, before he groans quietly through gritted teeth. “Alya,” he sighs. “This afternoon, I spent three hours in bed, between the two hottest people I’ve ever met. I get paid to lick her pretty thighs while he kisses her senseless. I have the best job in the world, argue with the wall.”

Alina laughs, clapping her hands together in gleeful applause while you and Aleksander you look at one another rather bashfully. Memories of filming with them both play over in your mind. The summer had been hot. The three of you had practiced one of the main intimacy scenes in the comfort of Aleksander’s trailer, with the chill of his air conditioning pebbling your nipples.

But there had been no such luxury during filming, when you were in costume - lace hemmed bloomers and a half undone corset. Sweat rolling down Alina’s calf, along Aleksander’s collarbone, glossing over your chest. The remembered heat of her mouth and his hands makes you ache even now.

Once filming is finished, the camera crew and producers exchange pleasantries with the three of you, before clearing out of the room and leaving you in peace.

Alina retrieves her bag from the side of the room, which had been placed out of sight of the cameras, setting it down on her chair. She pops her compact mirror open, checking over her makeup and you watch as she reapplies her lip gloss.

“Well, that wasn’t too bad,” Aleksander concedes with a sigh. He rubs the back of his neck, tilting his head from side to side.

“I found it quite enjoyable,” Alina remarks teasingly, flashing you a smile that makes your stomach flip.

“Of course you did,” you argue, stretching your legs out as you cross your arms. “This was all your idea.”

“I think you enjoyed it too.” She smiles, leaning over to tap the end of your nose which makes you duck your head bashfully.

“No comment.”

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

The next morning, you’re tackling a few interviews on your own. It feels strange without Aleksander or Alina by your side.

“This is your first film with any sort of intimate scenes,” the interviewer states.

“It is, yeah.”

“And I’d say some of the scenes are rather… intense. How was that?”

Her question makes you smile, thinking about how much work you and Aleksander put into your scenes. The memory of his hand in your hair, pulling your head back to reveal your throat for him makes you shift in your seat.

“Well, I was extremely lucky to have such incredible costars. Aleksander in particular was meticulous when it came to preparations. We would run through our lines together, and then walk through the scene, trying out different positions and reactions to see what worked best for us both. He knows the safest methods to pull hair which...” Heat spreads across your cheeks despite the smirk tugging at your lips. “…certainly came in handy for a few scenes.”

The interviewer smiles widely.

“I can imagine.”

Ducking your head slightly, you glance down at your painted fingernails as you smooth your hands over your trousers. It still makes you flustered, talking about the scenes you filmed with Aleksander and Alina.

“The film is based on a book,” she says.

You nod.

“Yes.”

“And you’ve recently been involved in recording a new version of the audiobook.”

That makes you smile.

“I have. I narrate the story and voice my character. Aleksander and Alina also voiced their own characters from the film, and I think Aleksander did a few background characters as well.”

“What was it like working with them again?”

“The whole experience was completely different from anything I’ve ever done before,” you admit. “The three of us were recording in the same room, so there was a really natural overlap between our voices in our scenes - which I love.”

Being in the recording booth with Aleksander and Alina was so much fun. At times, the sexual tension between your characters had made you squirm.

“I love full cast audiobooks, I think they’re so immersive and fun. We included some of the soundtrack from the film as well which adds a whole other layer to it. I feel like we’ve made something really special together.”

“Have you listened to it yet?”

The thought of listening to the audiobook, now fully edited with your voice describing the intimate scenes between your characters, while Aleksander and Alina moan and whisper sweet nothings and dirty promises through your headphones, makes you bite down on your lip to suppress a nervous laugh.

“Not yet, no. And I wouldn’t recommend listening to it in public. Especially chapter nineteen.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she says with a small laugh. “Are you looking forward to the premiere? It’s your first one in a starring role.”

“It is, yeah. I’m excited - most definitely nervous as well - but at least I won’t be walking the red carpet alone.”

She raises a brow at you.

“Oh? Are you bringing a date?”

Heat rushes down through your body at the misunderstanding.

“Oh no, I meant Aleksander and Alina will be there too.”

She smiles.

“Will the premiere be the first time you see the film?”

“It will. I’ve seen a couple of clips and the trailer, but apart from that I’m going in blind.”

“Well, I hope you enjoy it.”

“Thank you.”

͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse @dumb-fawkin-bitch @jane-arthur @ilikefictionmen @budugu @watersquirtpewpewboomm @mysweetlittledesire S&B Tag List: @motheroffae @daddymaster21 Aleksander M Tag List: @nyctophiliiiiaaa @jazmin2211 @wooya1224 @seronsalk @acehyacinth BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia @weallhaveadestiny @two-unbeatable-beaters @idohknow @vaguekayla @the-desilittle-bird @kksbookstuff

[the-element-siren]

Darklina Prompt

Inspired by an Italian version of Beauty and the Beast. It's on Amazon Prime in the US and I'll post a link.

Aleksander Morozov was the envy of all men. Prince of Kirigan, happily married to a woman of grace and beauty and loved him as much as he did her and controlled some of the richest lands in Ravka. That was until one night when a fire broke out. His favorite cousin, Elizaveta lives with them as his ward until he can find her a husband. His wife's body was found untouched by the fire by a balcony, many assumed that the Prince killed her while others rationalized that she must have jumped to avoid the fire's path. The prince's face was covered with scars as though he'd been scratched. (Think his new look from SaB)

Alina and Mal live in the village and struggle to survive. Alina works at a bookbinder that paid very little while Mal barely ever manages to hold a job for more than a week and spends whatever money Alina makes in the tavern. He dreams of a farm in a new place with fertile lands and finding a beautiful wife. Alina holds on to hope that he'll finally really see her.

One day, Mal decides that he needs to change his life. So spurred on by his friends, he decides to steal from the Prince. He does manage to get into the estate and find some jewelry, Luda's jewelry, but he gets caught and destroys some precious vases. Aleksander decides to imprison him for now until he decides on Mal's punishment.

After hearing about what happened, Alina rushes to the estate. She is able to see Mal and they are interrupted by Aleksander. She pleads for Mal's life and offers to pay off his debt by working as a servant, Mal doesn't even try to object. Aleksander agrees and gives Alina the day to settle her affairs.

Sadly, it's one of the ones with ads 😔😔 but still so good!! Made in Italy but english dubbed

[jomiddlemarch]

Alina and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day 

Alina was fairly certain that kindergarten pickup was actually a level of Hell. One of the deeper ones, though she had to admit that waiting for the divorce to be finalized and the week in February that Mal had been away at a conference in Hawaii when Eli got the stomach bug and she’d run out of orange Pedialyte, Clorox, and episodes of Elmo’s World just as she’d succumbed were both worse. She’d gotten a tee-shirt out of the conference and not herpes, so it was slightly ahead, which was the kind of thing she’d say that would make Gen tell her she really had to stay in the here and now and focus on herself and Eli; the fact that focusing in herself to Gen always meant some form of hot/stone/the feminine Divine yoga plus or minus a green smoothie was something Alina figured she just had to suck up as part of the best friend code. Especially if she wanted (needed) Gen to remain on Eli’s emergency contact list and deal with kindergarten pickup if Alina had a deadline or her car decided to call her bluff on her perpetually overdue oil changes.

She’d actually finished the article on affordable housing while sitting at the oil change place, wondering from time to time how oil change places still existed and why they still had a TV mounted on the wall when everyone was on their phone, earbuds in, podcasts and memes washing over them as digital sedatives. When she’d said anything like that at home, Mal would accuse her of being a Luddite, while continuing to shoot some monster on his gaming PC, and she’d launch into an explanation of why the Luddites got a bad rap and remembering it, she once again rejoiced in the finalization of the divorce, despite everything else it had cost her, starting with her rosy ideals about happily-ever-afters. In the timeless, nameless oil change place, happily-ever-after seemed like something that wouldn’t even appear on the TV as an infomercial. On the flip side, she wasn’t worried her car would die in kindergarten pickup.

Instead, she wished for death. Or something that would free her from her misery, besides the over-priced pistachio latte that she promptly spilled as soon as she got out of her car, half of it landing on her already dingy sneakers. She was surrounded by totally put-together, mani-pedi-ed moms in Lululemon or power suits or hand-knit sweaters and $300 jeans, with younger siblings in the latest paisley slings, Labradoodles with monogrammed collars off-leash and milling about, the same women who’d post their freshly washed and fashionably dressed kid holding a “First Day of X Grade” chalked on adorable chalkboard pics on social media. She’d waffled for a good ten minutes over the latte, since it really wasn’t in her budget and almost certainly was contributing to climate change and her chances of developing Type II diabetes, and all for what? Turning her greyish sneakers a bilious shade she associated with Dickensian misers with gout and getting her hands sticky.

“One of those days,” she heard, a man’s voice drifting down from behind her left shoulder. Before Alina could twist around or even cant her neck upward to see who was talking to her, he’d offered her an unopened pack of travel wet-wipes.

“Uh, thanks,” she said, peeling back the sticker closing the wipes and dabbing at her cuff of her cardigan. 

“Sorry about your coffee,” the man said. He’d moved into view, tall and dark-haired with a neatly trimmed beard, a sporty fleece vest layered over what he had to have worn to work, suit pants and a dress shirt still wrinkle-free. “I could easily spare a juice-box—apple-carrot ended up being a bust.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Alina remarked. “Plus, juice isn’t supposed to be good for kids.”

“No?”

Alina shrugged. “I mean, it’s not like you’re giving them absinthe. Or liquid plutonium. But yeah, whole fruit is better. And they can just drink water.”

“You’re the first mom to talk to me at pickup,” he said. “I’m Alex, by the way. Cosima’s dad.”

“Probably because you’re like the only dad to show up,” Alina replied. She didn’t say “and you look like you’re on the cover of Vogue except for the navy fleece” but she thought it. Loudly.

“Their loss. Cosima always has so much to say as soon as she leaves the building, I get a play-by-play,” he said. “I’m out of town enough I don’t like to ask her nanny to get her if I can do it.”

Alina knew she should not say it. It was clear as day, as a bell, as crystal. Hell, she only had to make a leading remark and he’d probably volunteer the info, if his unprompted remarks about being Cosima’s dad and having a nanny were anything to go by. She had, however, been known to make bad decisions. See: Mal, though Eli was the most silvery of silver linings.

“Her mom can’t pick her up?”

Alex, who had every right to freeze up or withdraw or otherwise let her know she had far overstepped in her latte-stained sneakers, shrugged.

“She left me to go find herself. That doesn’t make her terribly available for kindergarten pickup. Or bath-time, beginning ballet, or urgent care visits for ear infections,” he said, not as bitterly as he could have but not as Zen as he’d likely intended. There was a look in his eyes that only another divorced, custodial parent could recognize, a pain made of equal parts anger and humiliation, the need to conceal it from the child who shouldn’t see their other parent as a villain. The fatigue from being the one who was there, who couldn’t think about a weekend away or a night out without worrying about whether there’d be a call from the sitter, a fever, a crying jag over the fear of abandonment and the finite quantity of chicken nuggets allotted to a meal.

“I really thought you were going to end on bake sales,” Alina said. 

“I always get a pass from the class moms on those,” Alex said. “They don’t expect a dad to bake, so if I do, I’m basically a superhero and if I can’t manage to send in homemade banana chocolate chip muffins and send her in with a box of cupcakes from Kaminsky’s, I’m still in their good graces. It’s completely unfair.”

“It is,” Alina said. She couldn’t be that annoyed because he knew it. “I wish I could get away with banana bread muffins. I sent Eli with red velvet cupcakes once and I didn’t use organic red food coloring or organic, locally sourced cream cheese for the frosting and I got the smoky cat-wing stink-eye for the next month. I should have risen above it, but honestly, it sucked.”

Alex laughed. He had a nice laugh, a nice voice, and seemed like a nice man who was a good dad. With her luck, that meant that he was either secretly an immensely powerful, evil mastermind intent on world domination or that she’d never see him again.

“You’re Eli’s mom? Cosima says he’s very smart and good at sharing and he makes the best dinosaur sounds. Somewhere between a growl and a yodel, I gathered after she gave up trying to describe it and demonstrated her impression,” Alex said. “I hope this isn’t too presumptuous, but would you consider a playdate for them? It’s been rough, these past few months, and I’m trying to make sure she still has a normal childhood, whatever that means these days. My mother thinks I spoil her, but she’s very old-fashioned. My mother, not Cosima.”

“My schedule is a little tricky,” Alina said carefully. She would have been more wary if it had been one of the exquisitely put-together mothers asking, more relaxed if one of the nannies had made the proposal. She wasn’t sure what to make of Alex’s offer, except that she’d wanted to say yes right away and that meant she needed to watch herself. The opportunity to even subtly trash-talk her ex was irresistible, however. “Eli’s father is around, but never when I need to organize anything.” 

“We could meet at the park. I can bring enough snacks to last the afternoon, you could come when you’re free,” Alex suggested. He said when and not if, enough hope in his voice and those dark eyes that it sounded like an appeal and not an attempt to control her.

“I wouldn’t want you to go to too much trouble,” she said. She had thought arranging playdates would be easier than actual adult dating, but thus far, she’d been wrong.

“Oh, I won’t. I’ll go to Kaminsky’s and stock up. I’m friends with the owners,” he said. “I should say, I’m friends with Theo and Ivan doesn’t outright loathe me and allows me to eat his pastry. If you are not Theo, that is about as close to friends as you can get with him.”

“Sounds like my friend Gen’s boyfriend David, except substitute updating all my devices so I don’t get hacked or locked out of my bank account for petit fours and apple turnovers,” Alina said.

“That’s what you’d like, apple turnovers?” Alex asked, looking at her with a degree of focus that started out as unnerving and then suddenly felt warmer than appraisal, too thoughtful to be mere flirtation.

“You don’t have to—” Alina began, cut off when the kids were released, much like a swarm of infuriated bees or the Charge of the Light Brigade, Eli running a credible Olympic qualifying sprint with her latte-splattered knees as the finish line, a dark-haired little girl with neatly braided hair arriving slightly more decorously in Alex’s embrace; he’d instantly dropped into an unfairly elegant crouch to receive his daughter, while Alina planted her feet to take on the onslaught of Hurricane Eli. 

“Papa, you have to tell Baba not to eat snails anymore because Ms. Costas got one and it’s got a name and snails are people too,” Cosima announced, small hands planted on her father’s shoulders.

“Its name is Greg,” Eli said, as if the four of them were having a conversation, which Alina now supposed was the actual truth. 

“So, a boy snail,” Alex said.

“No,” Cosima said. “Just Greg.”

“Can we go to the park, Mommy? You said we could. Can we bring meatballs?” Eli asked.

“Not today, buddy,” Alina said, bracing herself for a tantrum or a closing argument worthy of Clarence Darrow or Judge Judy. 

“You said—”

“Your mom said we could have a playdate on Saturday and that is in two days,” Alex interjected. “Cosima and I are going to bring a blanket and some treats. We could include meatballs too.”

“Don’t,” Alina said. Alex’s expression went blank but Cosima and Eli’s both looked mutinous and on the verge of tears. It was amazing Ms. Costas could stand firm regarding quiet time in the face of such unified disapproval. “I just meant, don’t worry about meatballs. Meatballs is Mr. Lanstov’s cat. He’s our neighbor, we help out a little—”

“Yeah, because Mr. Lantsov is a million years old,” Eli said. “He said to call him Niko, but Mommy says that’s not polite because he’s so old.”

“We could bring apple turnovers then,” Alex said. “And maybe some catnip for Meatballs. It would be nice to make everyone happy.”

For @vesperass-anuna and @aloveforjaneausten who were wanting a modern AU for Darklina where our two unhappy characters meet at school picking up their kiddos.

[orlissa]

If you're still doing advent prompts, would you be interested in The Holly and The Ivy, my favorite version is the one sung by the Mediaeval Baebes but whichever you like best!

Day 13: The Holly and the Ivy

Alina first heard it on her way to Aleksander’s study—a sound unlike anything she’d ever heard before. Not necessarily unpleasant, but certainly unlikely enough to make her stop in her tracks.

“The holly and the ivy/When they are both full grown…”

The deep bass came from a side room on the hallway leading to the war room, the one Ivan often frequented when he did paperwork. But it couldn’t be…

“Of all trees that are in the wood/The holly bears the crown…”

Eyes wide, she tiptoed closer to the slightly ajar door, and, enticed and terrified to equal measure, she peeked inside.

“O, the rising of the sun/And the running of the deer…”

Startled at coming face to face with a sight that seemed at odds with the reality she knew—getting visual confirmation of the thing she would not have believed otherwise—, she backed up, then sprinted down the corridor and, rude or not, barged into Aleksander’s study without even knocking.

Concern alighting his gaze at her abrupt—and rather loud—arrival, he looked up from the document he was reading. “Alina, is everything alright?”

“Yes, of course,” she panted, pushing an errant strand of hair away from her face. “But I think I need you to pinch me. I might be dreaming.”

Aleksander lifted an eyebrow. “Ivan’s singing?”

She nodded wordlessly, not trusting her voice.He gave a little harumph that could have been the sign of either amusement or resignation, and returned his attention to the papers in front of him. “You’ll get used to it.”

[starlessmei]

Goodbye

(tw - su!cidal.) 

She doesn't say goodbye when she leaves the Little Palace, not to her friends, but especially not to him. She does as she's told and runs away, fleeing the life of becoming a slave. She thinks about him every waking moment, dreams about him in her troubled sleep; wants to kiss him again, to hold him in her arms and stay by his side. 

She doesn’t say hello when she sees him again—he takes control of her power and kills a magnificent beast in his thirst for domination. He enslaved her even though she ran away from him, and she can’t stop thinking if he would still do it if she didn’t run. If she had stayed with him as she wanted—as she sees in his eyes, he wanted, too. 

He’s jealous of Mal; she can see it in the way he’s offering his mercy, which isn’t merciful at all. She wonders if she would have done the same to someone who stole him from her. She thinks, tears sliding down her cheeks as she holds Mal’s hand through the barred cell, that she would. She would ruin any woman or man threatening to take him from her loving arms, from her warm bed; she understands why he wants to kill Mal, but she still has to fight. 

She doesn’t say goodbye when she leaves him to die in the Fold, even though she feels her heart breaking into million pieces. She doesn’t say goodbye because she refuses to believe he is really gone; that she won’t see him again, and that he won’t hold her and love her. She still loves him. Even after everything that happened, even if she needs to be his slave. She needs him so much that she turns around, looks at the Fold, and crushes to her knees. Sobbing uncontrollably, she wants to go back and save him and starts crawling on the gray sand, but Mal takes her away. He lifts her and carries her on his back while she cries and kicks—she hates him more than she ever hated the Darkling. 

She spends the following months hiding away with Mal, but she still thinks about the Darkling in every waking moment. Still dreams about him at night, imagining she sleeps in his arms instead of in Mal’s. She still hates Mal for dragging her away; she hates that she killed the Darkling for him. She hates his presence and his voice, hates how he forces her to be normal when she’s everything but normal. She thinks about running away from him but can’t leave anyone again. 

She cries when he finds her and Mal. But her tears are tears of happiness; she can’t believe he’s alive, can’t believe he has somehow survived his creation. Her heart breaks even more when she takes in his appearance; he looks sick and weak, the cuts on his face making her knees wobble with waves of guilt. She may not have killed him when she left him in the Fold, but she ruined him nonetheless. She doesn’t know what’s worse. 

When his monster takes a bite from her shoulder, she cries from the pain that is both emotional and physical. She doesn’t want to fight him anymore and doesn't want to say goodbye. Wants to apologize for leaving and dooming herself to a life of being his slave. Wants him to look well again, to be strong and kiss her; craves for him to say again how much he hates to want her like she hates to want him. 

She’s patient, even though she suffers; even though she needs to protect Mal and think about other people and Grisha. She says she doesn’t want to have another amplifier; he says she’s selfish and stubborn. knowing what he thinks about her makes her cry again. He says he wants to throw her to the sea, to let her die as she did to him, and she understands. She wants that, too. 

It breaks her to see him looking at her this way; like she’s hurt him like she knows she did. It breaks her to think about everything she has missed since she ran away from him. All she could have had if she only stayed and let herself be happy for once. She could never be happy again. 

She surprises him when she kisses him on the ship’s deck; she hears Mal gasping and shouting behind her, hears Ivan hurting Mal in return, but most of all—she hears the Darkling’s groan and swallows it with greed. She pulls away from the kiss to look at his eyes; they’re hopeful but restrained. He still hates her; he still hates wanting her. He loves her as much as she loves him—she can feel it. 

She’s happy that’s the last thing she’s ever going to feel—surrounded by his love. She wants to swim in his love forever but knows it’s impossible. They will suffer, both of them, from one another. She can end it. She will end it. 

She kisses him again, more desperately, ignoring his side of the tether that makes her heart swell. She breaks the kiss and looks deeply into his stormy eyes. “I love you, I always loved you, and I always will,” she says to him and cups his face with her hands. “Goodbye, my Darkling.” 

She turns away and runs, jumping over the railing and descending into the cold water. She can hear two men shouting her name—the man she loves and the man she hates. 

She sinks into the water, and everything feels numb with the pain and cold; she sinks down like a stone, the ocean taking her away from this life, like the Darkling said he wanted. 

She blinks her eyes open inside the water and sees the man she loves, desperately loves, swimming toward her. He grabs her by the waist and holds her tight, kicking his legs as fast as possible until they’re both panting above the surface. A low sob escapes his throat, and Alina looks at him with as much love as she can muster. 

“Don’t you ever say goodbye to me again.”

Maybe they will save each other, maybe they will finally die together, and maybe, just maybe—this goodbye was just another way to say hello. 

[goblins-riddles-or-frocks]

Fic Authors Self Rec

Rules: When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers!

I was tagged by @chthonic-cassandra thank you so much!

Unmaking the Heart of the World (Grisha Trilogy, 116k+, Darklina, Nikolina, Zoyalina, ongoing) This is my time loop fic that is basically every opinion I’ve ever had about this series combined. It also laces in more general concepts I’ve thought about and wanted to try to work into a story for awhile— chiefly the meta aspect of time loops, time travel, and reincarnation tropes and how that can be an interesting way to engage with themes of grief and denial.

I think the sheer length sets it apart from my other fic because I don’t usually get to structure and develop a narrative in the same way in fanfic.

These Truths That Shape Us (Hellsing, 3k, gen) I like this one for the horror elements. It’s part of an informal collection of “sins of the father” stories, that’s mostly about Integra reckoning with her family, her legacy, her own sense of identity and values within that context, and how that ultimately defines her relationship with Alucard. This one specifically tries to bridge the gap a bit between Dracula, and Hellsing as disparate stories.

Ever Ancient, Ever New (The Locked Tomb, 3k, Dios Apate) I’m proud of this one because the style is so different from how I usually write. On the theme of false forgiveness, the premise is that Augustine decided to forgive John at the end of HTN and that John eventually forgives Mercymorn, and his way of doing so is resurrecting her again, but deliberately flawed and without any of her memories. It’s all from Augustine’s POV who genuinely loves and hates them both, and it’s my attempt at exploring how complicated and awful that group dynamic is.

The Scorched Sea (The Grisha Trilogy, 9k, Darknikolina) This is a role reversal AU. It was a really interesting challenge trying to preserve the characters while putting them in very different circumstances with different pasts. I like the character work in this mostly where it comes to Aleksander and how he might think and who he might be if he were younger and less powerful.

I have a lot of ancillary worldbuilding for this AU that I ever want to come back to.

Éminence Grise (The Grisha Trilogy, 37k, Darknikolina, ongoing) I struggled to pick a last one but I think this one wins out because it’s longer and occupies more space in my thoughts and so I favor it lmao. This started from a one off prompt I got on tumblr that spiraled out of control. It has more silliness and social hijinks than my average fic but is mostly concerned with all the manipulation that would be inherent to a longstanding relationship between Alina and Aleksander if he had been able to just keep lying to her the entire time and the amplifier plot never happened.

Tagging: @jammerific @akilice @hannahofathousanddays @tirkdi @darkpoisonouslove if you feel like it!