I’m begging for some darklina tummy kisses from the prompt list
And I’m totally taking it. (cw: pregnancy)
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“Can you feel anything?” I asked.
“No, it’s far too early for that.” Aleksander had pushed my shirt up to my ribs and was drawing small circles on my abdomen with his fingers. He ducked his head to kiss me there, then asked, “What did they teach you at that orphanage?”
I threw a small pillow at him. It bounced harmlessly off his shoulder, and I felt his smile against my stomach. “I know how babies are made,” I scoffed. “Ana Kuya was adamant that we not make them out of wedlock.”
“Hmm.” He nuzzled my stomach. “You did keep that promise.”
I smiled, too. “I did. And I know he’s too small. Or she. But…” I closed my eyes and tried to slow my breathing, tried to listen. “I don’t know, we’re different. Maybe you feel something over the bond.”
“Do you?”
I listened harder, then shook my head. It seemed impossible that there was any kind of life growing in me, and if it weren’t for the physical symptoms, I don’t think I would have believed it. I looked at the top of Aleksander’s head, his waves of black hair, and thought, He did that to me. And then I thought, I did that with him. It was hard to know how to feel. Happy? Afraid? Both?
Aleksander must have sensed my trepidation, because he said softly, “She may not be like us. Baghra had other children, but they weren’t like me. I…” He pressed his lips together, like he had said too much, and did not continue.
“You,” I prompted, and then I realized. “Oh, Saints. Yours.”
His eyes flickered downward, away from my face. His voice was tense with emotion I couldn’t identify. “It is hard to be that careful for a thousand years.”
“Were any of them—”
“Like me? No.” He shook his head. “No, I was never so lucky. Or so cursed. I suppose Baghra would be the best judge of that. But a couple were powerful in their own right.”
I propped myself up on my elbows and peered at him. “Will you tell me about them?”
Aleksander closed his eyes and pressed his warm cheek to my skin. “Not just now, Alina.”
I nodded and settled on my back again. It was taking a while for Aleksander to open up about his past. I had so many questions, and even though we had infinite time, I was impatient. I wondered if part of him was afraid whatever he might reveal would scare me away. That was unlikely. I had probably lived through worse at his hands.
“You’re stuck with me, you know,” I reminded him. “Even more, now.”
He pressed another kiss right below my navel. “Even more.”
I’m begging for some darklina tummy kisses from the prompt list
And I’m totally taking it. (cw: pregnancy)
more kiss prompts | more kiss fills
“Can you feel anything?” I asked.
“No, it’s far too early for that.” Aleksander had pushed my shirt up to my ribs and was drawing small circles on my abdomen with his fingers. He ducked his head to kiss me there, then asked, “What did they teach you at that orphanage?”
I threw a small pillow at him. It bounced harmlessly off his shoulder, and I felt his smile against my stomach. “I know how babies are made,” I scoffed. “Ana Kuya was adamant that we not make them out of wedlock.”
“Hmm.” He nuzzled my stomach. “You did keep that promise.”
I smiled, too. “I did. And I know he’s too small. Or she. But…” I closed my eyes and tried to slow my breathing, tried to listen. “I don’t know, we’re different. Maybe you feel something over the bond.”
“Do you?”
I listened harder, then shook my head. It seemed impossible that there was any kind of life growing in me, and if it weren’t for the physical symptoms, I don’t think I would have believed it. I looked at the top of Aleksander’s head, his waves of black hair, and thought, He did that to me. And then I thought, I did that with him. It was hard to know how to feel. Happy? Afraid? Both?
Aleksander must have sensed my trepidation, because he said softly, “She may not be like us. Baghra had other children, but they weren’t like me. I…” He pressed his lips together, like he had said too much, and did not continue.
“You,” I prompted, and then I realized. “Oh, Saints. Yours.”
His eyes flickered downward, away from my face. His voice was tense with emotion I couldn’t identify. “It is hard to be that careful for a thousand years.”
“Were any of them—”
“Like me? No.” He shook his head. “No, I was never so lucky. Or so cursed. I suppose Baghra would be the best judge of that. But a couple were powerful in their own right.”
I propped myself up on my elbows and peered at him. “Will you tell me about them?”
Aleksander closed his eyes and pressed his warm cheek to my skin. “Not just now, Alina.”
I nodded and settled on my back again. It was taking a while for Aleksander to open up about his past. I had so many questions, and even though we had infinite time, I was impatient. I wondered if part of him was afraid whatever he might reveal would scare me away. That was unlikely. I had probably lived through worse at his hands.
“You’re stuck with me, you know,” I reminded him. “Even more, now.”
He pressed another kiss right below my navel. “Even more.”
Me whenever I want to write canonverse but don’t want to explain why they don’t hate each other: Timeless ‘verse. They are married. The end!
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In Aleksander’s defense, the play was boring: another Ravkan rumination on suffering and the human condition. High art, sure, with stellar performances, but neither of us needed the reminder. We’d each had our fair share of both.
So it shouldn’t have been a surprise when he leaned over and began to kiss my neck, but I found myself blushing like a schoolgirl anyway. We were in the box that had formerly belonged to the Ravkan royal family, relatively secluded, high above everyone else. But he had never been so affectionate with me in such a public place before, and I grew warmer and more flustered as one of his hands started sliding up my leg.
“Stop,” I whispered, swatting at him. “People are going to see.”
“Are they?”
I looked out toward the stage and saw that my husband had conjured a screen of dark shadow to shield us from prying eyes. Even if someone did look up into the box to try to catch a glimpse of us, maybe to ascertain whether we were enjoying the production, they wouldn’t be able to.
“Oh,” I said, feeling a little sheepish. But mischief rose in me, too, and I welcomed it. How long had it been since I last felt playful? “Well, then.”
“Well,” Aleksander said. His hand rested on my thigh.
“There really is no harm.”
“No, there isn’t.”
Now it was my turn to surprise him. I stood from my chair, pushing him back into his, and hiked up my dress to climb onto his lap. Even in the dark, with the stage lights muted by shadow, I saw his eyes brighten.
“Just kissing,” I warned, sliding my hands into his hair and ducking my head to claim his mouth with mine. Between kisses, I added, “And just until intermission.”
In case anyone still had doubts - Ben Barnes ships Darklina!
3 question and answer and I don't want anything more. My Black General - forever with you and thank you for everything. I believe that I will see you again someday!
Literally nothing makes me go feral more than this absolute bastard man asking if Alina will have his name. Like you want her to take your name?? You want her to use it??? You want to give it to her?? You want her to to possess it?? What are you, proposing?!?
I’m absolutely gnawing at the bars of my cage thinking about how he requested to share his name with her. How he asked if she would have it and take it and make the words her own, and his own, and theirs, together, privately. As if they were a part of some quiet, personal wedding, speaking vows just between the two of them that nobody else will ever know. Sacred and eternal.
Shadow and Bone had the potential to be a REVOLUTIONARY series but ended up falling short partly because of leigh bardugo's inexperience as a writer but also because of its target audience.
I think if it had been written for a slightly older demographic it could've explored some of its more mature/complicated themes without worrying about having to be like. So black-and-white with its morality. I'm mostly referring to Darklina but also the perspectives of both sides of the war
Putting the (potentially rambly and incoherent) post under a readmore bc spoilers
Like when I read the books the first time, I was really underwhelmed by the Darklina canon, because from what fan content I'd seen it looked like a much more deep, messy, complicated relationship than the barely-even-a-fling that it actually was. Alina and the Darkling had barely a handful of conversations before suddenly being physically attracted to each other and then alina almost immediately turned on him when baghra told her the truth. And even after that canon treats it like a lovers-to-enemies situation when it was more "we kissed twice and then decided to be obsessed with each other even though we had 0 chemistry and were barely even friends before that"
And writing a toxic/unhealthy/obsessive relationship is DIFFICULT, especially when you have to keep it clear to the readers that what is happening is BAD but also understandable and not idiot plot. Which is something you don't really have to do as much when your readers are older. You can really dive deep into the ugly fucked up things about the relationship while also trusting your readers to have the maturity + reading comprehension to understand that This Is Not Healthy without having to like. Spell it out for them.
Like give me codependent mutually destructive Darklina. "We are irreconcilably on different sides of this war but you are the only person who has ever really understood me." "You are the only person in this world I have ever cared about. I will not hesitate to destroy you." Give me Alina being on the Darkling's side, being his second in command, being blindly utterly loyal, not realising that he's using her because he doesn't realise it himself. Give me her slow, horrible realisation that no, he is actually the villain of this story. That turning on him is going to cost her everything, actually, her heart and her soul and her twin flame, but she has to do it because his actions are irredeemable.
It would make their dynamic after Alina's desertion of the Second Army so much more compelling, if they had this kind of intense connection already established and not just thrown in here and there for plot reasons with basically no foundation.
Because why did Alina run to the Darkling every time she fought with Mal? Or every time she faced tough situations? When she was feeling overwhelmed? When she finally defeats him why does she feel so protective of his legacy, his wishes for his last rites? I mean she barely knows this guy. Why does she care so much? What has this dude even really done for her to have this kind of attachment to him?
Also, the whole thing about "everyone is sorry but only the darkling is willing to do something about it" was so real??? Why was it just brushed over?? Like the Darkling and his supporters highkey made some points. And like. Forgive the older, seasoned Grisha for staying with him instead of defecting to this new kid with no plan and no army who abandoned them for apparently no reason and thrust them into another war when they were already stretched so thin??
And why is alina so sure of what side she's on. Why are we, as readers, supposed to believe that alina is right. Her only issue with the Darkling was his disregard for non-grisha life, but alina shows that same disregard for anyone on the Darkling's side. That's a really high horse for someone who spent her whole life trying to not have a personality to sit on. And it makes her rejection of the Sankta Alina title make even less sense because if she's going to be this holier-than-thou, she might as well commit to it
Basically s&b had so much to say and so many opportunities to say all of it but then it just. didn't. Because leigh wanted to play it safe. but only sometimes.
For me, being hyperfixated on a piece of fiction is like an itch. I can scratch at it until I lose all track of time. Initially, the scratching provides a sense of thrill and comfort. Lots of it. But it's only a matter of time before the irritation and bleeding kicks in. Still, I go on scratching the itch until I can't do so anymore. Time flies. The wound eventually heals. The scars, however, remain forever and I am tremendously fond of them. Then, there are times when some scars begin to itch all over again and I just can't resist it.
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