#darklina prompt

[burninghoneyatdusk]

#darklina #darklina fanfiction #burninghoneyatdusk #darklina prompt

[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.

#darklina #darklina au #darklina prompt #hallmark inspired #kanej #kanej au #kanej prompt #helnik #helnik au #helnik prompt #fivan #fivan au #fivan prompt #prompt idea #modern au #multiship prompt

[sabficinspo]

While Mal, her almost brother, was conscripted into the army, Alina was deemed too weak and the army didn’t want her. She found a job in Os Alta working at a pastry shop and, one day, on her way home from work she ran into an oprichnik. No, literally, she ran into an oprichnik. He helps her get back to the place she is staying (boarding house, apartments, brothel, friend/acquaintance of Ana Kuya or Mal) and she expresses curiosity about the Grisha.

The oprichnik teaches her about Grisha history, culture, and current issues. He also begins to teach her self defense. Alina brings him pastries and helps him think out his problems- helps him remember that he’s manipulating people, not pieces on a game board.

Only, the man she thinks is an oprichnik, isn’t really an oprichnik. In fact, he couldn’t be an oprichnik if he wanted to, because oprichnik cannot be Grisha. Alina’s new friend (to absolutely nobody’s shock) is actually the Black General, Duke Pytor Kirigan, otherwise known as the Darkling.

Aleksandr wants to keep Alina, for as long as he can. He knows that her life will only be the blink of an eye to him, but he loves her and wants to spend as much time as he can with her.

Perhaps Aleksandr marries Alina. Maybe someone else finds out about the time they spend together and causes problems. Maybe Alina’s power is revealed. Maybe Alina starts a revolution. I have no idea 🤷🏻‍♀️, but this background/set up popped into my head!!

#moodboard #sab prompt #darklina prompt #prompt #shadow and bone #*

[dcrkalina]

Darklina Fic Prompts: Free To Use

1. Alina Starkov is a noblewoman, who tends to be reckless. The Darkling is a dragon, who is misunderstood. It' s a medieval fantasy story setting about finding courage again. It kicks off in a graveyard with an attempted murder.

Someone in the story is often in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Hard Mode: The story has an unhappy ending.

2. Aleksander is a blacksmith, who has a weird sense of humor. Alina's a princess with magic, who has run away. It's a medieval fantasy story about overcoming loss. It kicks off on a dusty road with someone finding an ancient sword.

Someone in the story has a lot of hard lessons to learn.

Hard mode: The story is a retelling of a Greek myth.

#darklina au #darklina fic #alarkling au #alina x aleksander #ao3 #alina x darkling #shadow and bones #darklina #alarkling #alarkling fic #au #darklina prompt #darklina ao3

[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

#fic game #darklina #crescent moon au #this is why you should submit prompts #you never know when they will inspire your fanfic writer into returning to a WIP

[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

#darklina #fanfic prompt #shadow and bone

[keira63fic]

Canonverse Darklina Prompts

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

#aleksander morozova #the darkling #alina starkov #darklina #darkling x alina #shadow and bone #the grisha trilogy #grisha trilogy fanfic #my fic #canon verse #prompt fills

[qqueenofhades]

75. "Promise me just one thing…" for Darklina? Sending lots of love and hugs your way!

75. "Promise me just one thing..."

The great Basilica of the Saints is huge, echoing, and crammed with thousands of people that Alina has never met before in her life: diplomatic delegations from Fjerda, Kerch, and the Shu Han, the serried ranks of the Ravkan nobility, the Grisha in their formal keftas, First Army in dress uniform, and everyone else who has traveled to Os Alta in order to see this happen, and craft their new plans and cunning political stratagems accordingly. It's all on this. All on her.

Alina stands by herself in the vestry, her veil obscuring her face, her splendid white-and-golden gown glittering with painstakingly handmade embroidery. Her heart rattles like a broken dish in her chest, and her hands tremble where they clutch the bouquet. Genya stands behind her, silently holding the heavy rim of her train. She has kept her opinion of this to a tactful minimum, but Alina knows that she, to say the least, has reservations. All of them do. But if this is the only way -- if she can end the war and bring back peace and maybe reach the idealistic, good-hearted boy that the terrifying man used to be --

She can hear the patriarch praying the nuptial liturgy, hands upraised to the gilded eyes of the icons that gaze down from all sides of the dome. Then the real eyes of the crowd turn to her like a thousand candles, burning into her more brightly than her own sun, and Alina quails. For a moment, she almost breaks. Almost throws down the flowers and turns and runs. Doesn't want to do this at all. Can't. Can't.

But she does.

Slowly and regally, she moves out of the shadows, as Genya gets a better grip on her train and matches Alina's measured, carefully rehearsed steps down the aisle. The two of them walk what seems an endless length, a mile, down the nave, past all the watching eyes and the wary guests, waiting to see if this is, in fact, a new era or merely the great and terrible culmination of the old. The patriarch glitters in his tall hat and ceremonial stole. And at the altar, waiting --

Aleksander looks very handsome, of course. He always does, and even now, after all they have been through, it's still enough to turn Alina a little weak in the knees. For once he's shed his trademark blacks, and his bridegroom's clothes are as white as hers. It's a lie, Alina thinks. It's a lie, but I have to make it true. Somehow.

She reaches the foot of the altar. This is her last chance to flee, if she's going to. But she doesn't. This is her duty, her choice, and she's made it. She mounts the steps, careful not to trip on her beaded hem, and reaches the waiting men. Aleksander holds out a hand to help her, and Alina braces herself not to flinch at his touch. Whether from fear, desire, or both, she doesn't know.

"You look lovely," Aleksander says under his breath, as if he's truly seeking to put her at ease. "Truly."

"I... thank you. Sir." The formality helps her, a little. But Alina screws up her courage, looks him in the eye, and swallows hard. "Aleksander," she corrects herself. "Promise me just one thing."

His eyes hold hers, unblinking. "Of course."

"Please," Alina whispers, so quietly that she can barely hear herself. "Please don't betray me again."

The almighty Darkling flinches, just a little. His hand squeezes hers, holding her tight, drawing her in and turning her to face the patriarch, who raises his psalter and prepares to begin the ceremony. "I'm sorry," he says, not looking at her. "I know I've hurt you before, and I can't promise that I won't do it again, even by accident. But you have my word, Alina. I'll.... I will try my best."

That might not be the answer she wants, but Alina can grudgingly respect the fact that at least, this time, he won't lie to her. That's not much to build on, not nearly what they used to be, but it's a start, and she is determined to seize it. And so, as the voices of the choir swell toward the sky, the congregation sits with a whisper and a murmur and a scrape of chairs, she draws a deep breath, tells herself to be brave, be brave, and turns to marry Aleksander Morozov.

[fic prompts]

#sab ff #darklina #darklina ff #fic prompts #i debated making this super angsty so y'all dodged a bullet #ahem #also thank you dear <3 #politicalmamaduck #ask

[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.”

#drabble #shadow and bone #fic prompt #fanfic #darkling #darklina #alina x aleksander #alina starkov #ruin and rising

[sparrowsaidwhat]

#darklina #twitter prompts

[somewherewebelongg]

Sooo I've been thinking and hear me out, what if in the scene with alina on a village and everyone running (look like one to me, might be very wrong though) she doesn't run because it's a dream and/or a memory from darkles and through the tether she is there as luda and when it's shown aleks is horse riding he is going where she is because danger? to save her? and he does save her but it's a dream and he realizes it's alina and gets mad and then later when she is dreaming about Mal he pretends to be him because he is Alexander Petty Morozova

IDK really but this scenario has been way too much in my mind since the trailer, so it can also be seen as a prompt

#shadow and bone #darklina #alina starkov #the darkling #short prompt

[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

#darklina #shadow and bone #darklina au #shadow and bone au #darklina prompt #vague regency/victorian period #regency au #period au #prince!aleksander #beauty and the beast inspired

[sabficinspo]

Alina Starkov is indeed wasting away when the Darkling finally finds his Sun Summoner. The wasting sickness is a reasonable assumption, but then Aleksander sees the control Alina has over her light. No, it turns out that Alina didn't become ill until her body started to change. Because Alina Starkov is a succubus. She had been wasting because she remained innocent. Perhaps if she hadn't been touch starved (her surrogate sibling being the only one who gave her any sort of physical affection) she could have been stronger.

Aleksandr’s touch may have kept her alive from the Fold to Os Alta, but apparently, no one knew that a succubus imprints... Like a duckling.

#moodboard #shadow and bone #prompt #darklina prompt #sab prompt #*

[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!

#prompt me #may write helaemond if you ask nicely #or darklina tbh

[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.

#darklina #modern au #alina x aleksander #dilf!aleksander #fluff #humor #kidfic #mal bashing #prompt fill #fivan #ivan x fedyor

[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.”

#I'm starting to think that asking for song prompts might have been a mistake #darklina #shadow and bone #drabble #fanfic #ask #advent calendar project