#i just love how he looks there and i think he actually could play alexander

[tryndei]

i will never stop thinking about this photoshoot of arseny popov being baron alexander von brennenburg-

арс почему ты не хочешь косплеить александра у тебя все данные для этого ТЫ ЧЁЁЁ

#i just love how he looks there and i think he actually could play alexander #man being called earl--- #арсений попов #импровизаторы

[aliaology]

STAY DONE

SUMMARY: you know you and alex should break up, but you’re too in love with him to stay done.

PAIRING: alexander holtz x fem!reader

WARNINGS: semi-toxic (?) relationship, slight cheating, blood

EXTRA: i know alex (most likely) wouldn’t actually cheat, but its just for the fic! my boy needs more about him done. also THIS SUCKS LMFAOO im a lil rusty. BASED ON A SONG.

the look in your eyes even after he yells at you was something truly remarkable, incredible even. the awe-struck gaze your eyes held as the boy in front of you angrily spoke. his anger may not have been directed at you, but he was definitely taking it out on you.

his narrowed eyes and irritated tone as he went on and on about his hockey game made your stomach twist and knot. the feeling only going away as he punches one of the picture frames, causing the glass to shatter and the frame to fall to the floor.

your awe-struck gaze was no more, and was now filled with worried as he walked into the bedroom, mumbling curses under his breath. you let out a sigh as you grabbed the broom from the closet. you swept the broken glass up and removed the picture from the frame. it was a picture of you and him when you visited italy.

you gave the picture a sad look before placing it on the counter and throwing the frame into the trash bag, along with the broken glass. after putting the broom back, you walked into your shared room, alex sitting on the side of the bed with his head in his hands. blood dripped from his knuckles and down his hands.

you walked into the bathroom, grabbing a few bandages and alcohol wipes. kneeling down in front of him, you removed his hands from his face, gently.

“i think you played well tonight, alex.” you spoke softly. grabbing an alcohol wipe, you carefully wiped up the blood and the wound, causing him to hiss in pain.

“can’t say much when i was only on the ice for like five minutes. i make one mistake and lindy fucking benches me.” he spoke angrily.

you gently wrapped his hand. “i think you should talk to them about being traded.” you told.

alex scoffed out a laughed. you gave him a look. “im being serious, alex. this team is messing you up— you know you deserve better.”

alex sighed, “ill think about it, alright?”

you nodded and stood up, placing a small kiss on his cheek before bringing everything back into the bathroom, and throwing out the bloody wipes.

you huffed out a breath, knowing how idiotic you looked in front of your friends. you told yourself you would be taking a break from alex, that you would give yourself space, find yourself.

you needed it, especially after finding out he was hitting up other girls. hearing this— you stayed cordial, but honestly, you wish you went off on him. you wish you didn’t stay calm.

but thats the thing with alex, as you stand here calling him, you realize you can’t stay done with him. he was a constant need in your life, he was the sun and you revolved around him.

“hello?” his voice sounded through your phone.

you let out a shaky breath. you stood on the sidewalk, your little black dress keeping almost nothing warm. you held your large coat close to you.

“can you come get me? please?” you asked.

you could hear a deep breath escape his lips before he talked. “where are you?” he questioned. you could hear the sound of clothes rustling, then the sound of his keys jangling.

“outside of the bar on hawkins.” you told, shivering slightly.

“jesus christ baby— outside? seriously? are you by yourself?” he asked.

“yeah.” you muttered into the phone.

you could hear him swear under his breath, the sound of his car door opening and shutting rang through your ears. “get inside that damn bar, wait near the doors.” he demanded.

you hastily obeyed and stood inside, right next to the doors. he stayed on the phone with you the entire time, letting you know when he was close.

once he got there, and you hung up, getting into his car, he gave you an irritated look.

“dont you ever do that again— you hear me? do you know how dangerous it is? standing out there by yourself in the middle of the night?” he spoke.

his tone was harsh, but he clearly was worried, at least you hoped. “im sorry”

he sighed. “dont apologize. lets just, lets get to the apartment.”

you nodded and titled your head against the window, watching the lights as you passed them. you hated the feeling of not being able to be the bigger person and leave.

alex was your best friend, but your enemy. he loved you and hated you. you loved him, and loved him, and hated him. but there was no one else you wanted to wake up to. no one else you wanted to go to bed with.

you just couldn’t stay done with him.

im unable to tag everyone!

TAGS: @slaythehousebootsdown13 , @lxnceclercs , @honethatty12 , @outrunangelss , @absolutelyhugh3s , @hockeyboysarehot , @lovinbarzal , @shadowsndaisies , @um-mads , @bqbylon , @whoreforthehughesbrothers , @Robloxlover2007 , @p3nislawd , @alexx-stancati , @queenmendes , @-eedwardss , @if-my-heart-bleeds , @love-like-woaah , @freds-slut , @sleepybesson , @love4lando , @equallyshaw , @bellstwd , @ivy-34 , @slafgoalskybaby , @hischierxx , @dancerbailey3 , @jackhughesily , @cstads-blog , @ru-kru , @sbrn0905 , @love4ldr , @loveforaugust

#Spotify #hockey #nhl #jack hughes #nhl imagine #nhl hockey #new jersey #new jersey devils #alexander holtz #alex holtz #ah10 #alexander holtz x reader #alexander holtz x y/n #alexander holtz imagine #tate mcrae #stay done

[foreverisntenough]

- YOU’RE MINE -

Summary: While you daydreamed about his face an ocean apart, he had no idea what yours was about to do to him. With a twist of fate and the heat of summer, a new relationship would completely ransack his heart - Everyday heavy with the thought of one another, neither of you were going to let the unexpected love of your life go. You were going to be his, you were his, and you were going to stay his.

Warnings: This story will contain fluff, suggestion, smut and angst- not sure what else yet! Some love bombing but we love a needy Trent

Note: I was planning on keeping this just for myself so please be nice. I hope you like it! There will definitely be more parts (don’t know how many just yet though.)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Chapter 5 - ‘You’re Mine’

When you woke up the next morning you saw the white bedding crumpled around you. You definitely were not at home. Remembering exactly where you were, exactly whose king sized bed you were in, his deep rich scent encasing you. The warm sheet slid over your body, a reminder that you were also completely naked. The realizations about your circumstances came one by one. The morning light flooded into the room illuminating clearly very well moisturized skin a top of yours. You identified the heavy weight crushing your waist to be his arm. You stared down at it, scared to even breathe in case it would awake him. You squeezed your eyes tight with nervousness, then opened them as wide as you could fixating onto the hotel wall. You mouthed silently ‘what the fuck!.’

What world were you living in that you were walking up in Trent Alexander Arnold’s hotel room, naked in his bed nonetheless. You could hear him breathe a little behind you as you focused more on his presence. You continued staring at his strong arm draped over you, his warm tanned skin looked so soft and rich, a white gold Van Clef Alhambra bracelet dangled off his wrist. He actually might be perfect and you felt a little sick at his flawlessness.

You shut your eyes again thinking of ways how to not be awkward about this, how to say goodbye. This was about to be a very bizarre walk of shame because a part of you wasn’t shameful at all but proud of what you’d accomplished. In a way you wanted to shower him with thank yous for the most amazing night but the real feelings you had rapidly developed for him terrified you. You tried to take a slow breath in without moving too much, still afraid of waking him. Despite your best efforts, Trent groaned a little. His dangling hand came down on your stomach gripping and pulling your body flush back against his.

You were made very aware again you were naked, feeling his body behind yours. You were trying to ignore the feeling of his semi and his tight grip by just staring straight ahead when you felt a lazy, hard, wet kiss on the back of your neck.

Goosebumps arose all over you, squeezing your eyes shut once more. ‘Fuck’ you mouthed panicking. You felt him shuffle a little more and pull you somehow even closer. He hummed while placing another sleepy kiss on the back of your neck.

‘Morning baby” Trent grumbled out in an incredibly, unintentionally, sexy morning voice. His eyes still closed, he wrapped himself around your warm body kissing all over your back now. This wasn’t fair. You didn’t even want to look at him, you couldn’t. His eyes would tear your heart to shreds. You knew you’d feel like a fool for letting yourself get emotionally invested in more than sex with him. He was a famous international footballer, he had no ties and you were finding yourself completely roped down for him.

Another, slightly more crazed, part of you had envisioned a relationship. A delusion you had dreamt of. Waking up in his arms, going to his games, sharing a life together, falling in love with him…‘oh god’ you thought. You cannot even believe overnight you became the type of girl who was falling in love with a one night stand and dreaming of playing house. Your fantasy came to a crashing halt when you heard his voice again.

“C’mere” he sleepily said, pulling at you some more. You almost didn’t respond paralyzed in fear but you just managed to shake your head ‘no.’

“Baby” he whispered into the shell of your ear.

“No” you hummed quietly. Trent’s eyes opening at the rejection. What the fuck? He actually was a little taken aback. He was so good to you yesterday. He thought this was perfect and you were acting like you didn’t want to be waking up there.

“No?” He questioned hoping you’d give him a reason. With slightly deluded confidence that no one could ever say no to him he kissed you again this time more intently on your neck.

“T…I can’t” you sheepishly said, hiding from him still.

“Can’t what?” He asked, not understanding… he waited for your response trying to be patient but he was feeling childish, tired, and not happy with this so he spoke again before you.

“C’mere please. I want to cuddle with you.” His lips now moving completely against your skin. You knew you wouldn’t win this fight so you caved turning to him deciding you would just relish in the last moments under his touch. You placed your forehead on his arm in an effort to still avoid his eyes.

“Seriously C’mere...” Trent started to laugh knowing he had you. He pulled your thigh over top of him almost entirely so you were now laying on top of him. Pretending to not like your new position you held your cheek to his chest. He placed a kiss to your head. “Why you being like this, huh?” He said now nuzzling into you.

“Baby” you sighed at how irresistibly and impossibly cute he was.

“Fuck me? Sure. But you’re drawing the line at cuddles?” Trent laughed at his own statement. “ Y/N, I told you last night I like you.. a lot. You’re all mine, beautiful.” He cooed but still in a very serious tone.

You reluctantly picked your head up off his chest. You looked into his big eyes. He looked so sleepy, so endearing, so beautiful, it actually made you frown a little. This really wasn’t fair.

“You’re going to hurt me..” you apprehensively said your eyes full of sadness. Trent’s full cheeks hallowed a little, his brow furrowed.

“Why would I do that?” He innocently asked.

“Trent…” you paused trying to get him to clue into how this whole thing was ending the second you left the hotel. “Honestly…” you thought a little about what you were going to say but said fuck it at this point, “You’re right.” Trent’s face changed trying to figure out what you were on about. “I am completely yours. It’s bad, I’m not sure what the hell your deal is, if you do this to every girl, but… me? I can’t handle emotions like this and then just move on with life. I’m becoming grossly obsessed with you and it’s embarrassing and I’ve never been so submissive to a guy before. It's been a few hours of knowing you! It’s not fair that you just get to go home after this.” You continued to rant. A smile crept across Trent’s face and if it wasn’t so pretty it would’ve annoyed you.

“Come back home with me then.” He suggested like he was asking if you wanted to go get a coffee.

“This! This is what I’m talking about, stop doing this to me.” Your voice raised a little but it trailed off into laughter at how insane this was.

“What you laughing for? I’m so serious. Please.” Trent was genuinely now begging. “I don’t want to be without you, unequivocally mine now. Not having it any other way. Yeah? What do you think?” He nodded his head a little trying to convince you.

“You’re insane. I can’t go with you.” You laughed. “Plus on a more realistic side you won’t even be there…you have preseason in yet another country.”

“See now we’re getting somewhere..” Trent said smug you had begun to even think about logistics.

“No.. no.” You denied him. The irony of this entire ridiculous conversation was that you two were wrapped up cuddling, neither of you wanting to move. You were so happy laying on his chest, his hand stroking your bare back. You thought maybe you were just entertaining the stupid idea at first to lay together longer, hear his voice a little more but you suddenly felt like maybe he was convincing you.

“Alright, alright. I’ll level with you a little. You stay with me the next few days here. Spend time with me. Let me show you how great I am.” He was serious but started to joke at the end of his sentence.

“You’re actually out of your mind. This is the stupidest idea…” you spoke before he cut you off.

“Don’t deprive me of waking up to you everyday… even if you’ll try to ignore me, I still want it.” He held you tighter to his chest, kissing your head again.

“Stop! This is the stupidest idea but …” you huffed and sighed pathetically at what you were about to say. “for some reason I’m in.” You smiled goofily, placing your chin onto his chest by tilting your head. Trent stared at you mystified at first he had got his way but quickly his face fell to a shit-eating grin.

“Some reason…Huh?” He questioned you teasingly. You just hummed back.

“That reason is me. You like me as much as I like you baby, come on just give in to this.” Trent cooed at you pushing his lips towards yours. You felt all your walls come crumbling down. You relaxed into his body some more in contentment.

“T…” you sighed. His hands all over your body in the most caring way.

“You’re all mine baby” he whispered into your head.

“Do you always get what you want?” You pretended to be annoyed.

“Mmmhmm” Trent hummed with an equally goofy smile. You knew this was absolutely delusional but at least he was with you in the delusion. The sound of the hotel door unlocking and opening pulled you both out of fool’s paradise.

“It’s literally past noon, Trent. Get the fuck up.” You recognized his brother's voice echoing through the room.

“I’m so hungry, please!” His friend slumped, eyes closed onto a chair in the room. You smiled shyly, hiding your face into Trent’s chest as he pulled the comforter over your bare back.

“Sorry, you okay?” Trent whispered to you. You nodded. Pulling the comforter completely over your head. Trent laughed at you, placing his arms atop the comforter. The boys who had entered turned to look at him essentially giggling at nothing in the other room.

“Good mornnninggg Y/N” Marcel said slyly acknowledging your poor attempt at hiding. “But bro.. it’s also past noon and you need to get the fuck up” he said changing his tone now talking to Trent.

“Alright, okay. I’m getting up.” Trent shifted his back to lean up against the headboard still keeping you pressed to him. You kissed his naked chest. “I’ve just gotta shower first,” he continued.

“Y/N sticking around?” Tyler asked Trent blatantly in front of you. Your face was so tight to Trent’s skin you couldn’t see the face he gave in response to the question confirming you were in fact staying.

The boys left you two back in bed with another serious warning to get up. You giggled a little at what Trent and you were deciding to do and how crazy the boys were going to think you were once they found out.

“If you actually want me to stay, I do have to go back to my place to get some things.” You looked up at Trent.

“Yeah, course. I’ll take you.” He assured you before his phone rang. You gave him a sweet look telling him to answer so he did.

“Hey mum…” he spoke. You almost audibly gasped digging your face into his skin mortified but it only amplified your embarrassment feeling him naked beneath you. You could slightly make out his mum’s words on the other end of the call, ‘everyone behaving?’ “Yeah, yeah.” Trent yawned still on the phone. “Miss you too.” He stayed completely cool the whole time rubbing his thumb over your spine low on your back. “Love you” he said finishing his conversation, hanging up.

“Sorry baby” he cooed. “If I didn’t answer… out of the country with my brothers.. she’d get nervous. It’s not all the time I swear.” He kind of jumped around in his sentence.

“If you didn’t answer a call from your mum I think I’d be worried… probably would’ve preferred to be clothed rather than on top of you for it but I like that you talk to her.” You were candid. He just laughed a little before his phone began buzzing with another call again. You smiled nodding for him to answer but this time you heard an unexpected iPhone noise.

“Yo bro” Trent greeted, his arm lifting off you placing the hand holding his phone to rest atop your head. It was in that moment you were aware that this was a facetime.

What was going on that your morning alone with Trent was being laced with interactions with so many people in his life… you would’ve felt really happy with him feeling so comfortable with you but again… you were naked in bed with him as these exchanges happened so instead you felt self conscious.

“Yoo, you still in the US?” A voice asked from the phone sounding familiar but you couldn’t place it.

“Yeah, yeah man” Trent confirmed

“Marc sent me an interesting snap last night…” the boy dragged his words out.

“Of…” Trent didn’t look shy but he sounded apprehensive.

“You bro…got yourself an American ting?” The two boys laughed. Talking openly about you like you weren't right there, your head acting as a stand for Trent’s phone.

“Nah, honestly she’s well fit, like beyond sexy.” Trent spoke in a casual way. “I’ll send you her instagram, mate.” You bit a spot on Trent’s skin lightly before kissing over it reminding him of your presence.

“Ow!” Trent pretended it hurt, complaining quietly with a stupid smile on his face. The boy on the phone tried to grab his attention back wanting to hear more. The conversation between them continued on for longer than you thought it would. When he finally hung up again he pulled you up for a kiss, the comforter falling almost completely uncovering you.

“So” you spoke before kissing into his lips a little more before pulling away again “So” kissing him once more “popular, baby” then falling into a deeper kiss. He didn’t really acknowledge the comment, just focusing on your lips.

“Going to tell me who you were talking to about me?” You asked.

“Only Jude, baby. You know your ‘brum boy’” Trent revealed poking fun at the ‘Brum Boy or Scouser’ song discourse yesterday.

“Gotcha” you pretended you didn’t care but internally you were a little too giddy at the image or those two faces sharing one screen but it quickly subsided at the thought of your instagram being inspected by the pair.

“Didn’t know you had my Instagram ya know?” You cheekily poked at Trent

“Baby… I had to know a little something. I wasn’t going to go into last night totally blind.” He tried to defend himself

“So.. is it okay? What’d you think? You’re sending it to Jude?” You asked a myriad of questions honestly.

“You’re beautiful in person, in photos, in blurry videos posted by your friends, baby you are… you are perfect.” Trent babbling a little lost in your features. You placed a soft kiss on his plump lips and then started kissing him with more passion. Things quickly unfolding. You slid your hand down his abs and around semi hard cock. Trent moaned a little at your touch and the sound had your mouth watering.

“Do you still need more of me?” You said smugly now, raising your hips to hover over his pulsing cock lined perfectly above your entrance. You soon felt Trent’s hand on your back, pushing you down.

“Need all of you” Trent mumbled just loud enough for you to hear. You lost any control you had when he was fully inside. The force and pace of his thrusts increased and so did the volume of both your moans. You sat back to ride him. His hands sliding up your stomach to grab onto your nipples. The pleasure was almost too much as he helped you move on top of him. In a swift motion he flipped you over to be on top of you.

“You’re such a good girl, so fucking wet for me.” He said, dragging his cock slowly out of you and watching himself push all the way back in. You looked so full, Trent couldn’t help but imagine how full you would look with his cum dripping out of you. He didn’t get a chance to truly appreciate it last night and he was determined to fuck you full of his cum. His hand pushed your thighs further down so he could reach deeper when his thrusts became a little sloppier.

“Fuck, oh my god…" you cried out, the climax building up inside of you almost unbearable before you both reached your highs embarrassingly quickly. You couldn’t help the juices dripping down your legs as he fucked his load into you. He plunged his cock in and out a few more times, his cum leaking out of your pussy as he dragged himself out slowly.

“Fuck, baby. You’re fucking perfect, your pussy’s so perfect for me, made for my cock.” Trent spoke between heaving breaths.

“Mmhmm T.” You could barely get any words out completely spent.

“Baby, can I take a picture? Just f’me. Please.” He begged.

“Hmm?” You questioned of what.

“Look so good with my cum dripping out of you.” He said dragging his fingers back through your folds. You giggled a little. If you were going to let anyone take such an intimate photo of you, you were okay with it being Trent.

“Yeah, go on. Can take a picture of what’s yours.” You said leaning back into the pillow arching your back, sucking your stomach in, opening your legs further ever so slightly. He grabbed his phone getting unbelievably close to your core. The smile on his face was adorable, he was completely infatuated. After he got what he wanted he held his phone above you and you squirmed trying to hide but you were completely on display.

“Just f’me baby” he said tilting your face to him then pinning your one arm down to prevent you from trying to cover your body or face. You didn’t really have any option but you were flattered he wanted a picture.

“Such a good girl, so beautiful,” he said, finally letting you close your legs a little and laying completely on top of you.

“Ugh … you’re so …heavy, oh my god!” You jokingly yelled between contrived breaths being crushed by Trent.

“I am not at all… that’s so mean. I work out… like a lot. I thought you said I looked..” he was ranting trying to defend his weight.

“T, I’m joking you're perfect” you gave him a kiss. “You’re beautiful,” you gave him another kiss “your body is very, very, very sexy” and another kiss “but also your entire weight on me right this second is heavy” you finished laughing.

“Wow, I see how it is” Trent said, rolling on his side pulling you back into his body. His hand running up and down your arm.

“I think you’re ‘leng,’ T, relax” you tried to reduce his fake annoyance by making fun of a word he and his friends had been tossing around last night.

“I actually am, thank you.” He quipped back “You using ‘leng’ now? Define it for me then… go on.” He pushed

“You’re exhausting baby” you said ignoring him before pressing another kiss to his lips.

“So you want me to go with you to grab a bag from your place for the week?” Trent wasn’t going to let you forget what you had agreed to but you hadn’t you were actually really excited now.

“Erm, if you want… if you do come, you’re waiting downstairs for me though.” You told him sternly. It was sweet he was offering and you wouldn’t mind his company but you were still trying to protect yourself. If this all were to go horribly, horribly wrong you were not letting yourself have any memories of this man in your home. You wouldn’t be able to bear remembering that this actually happened.

“Is it because I am too leng?” He asked with a big smile making fun of you.

“Yes, yes, it’s exactly that.” You laughed a little, pressing a kiss into his temple.

“Alright, let’s get your stuff so you can see more of how great I am and I can book your flight to Liverpool'' you groaned at his light hearted arrogance.

You both finally got dressed and opted to walk to your apartment from his hotel, hand in hand, the summer sun beating on you. Every block you walked you felt yourself become more and more enraptured in him. Trent spoke to you like he was no one but every so often a head would turn and stare a second too long, a kid across the street would take a photo, the attention made you a little apprehensive. You pulled your hand from his nonchalantly, hopefully sparing him a Daily Mail headline about a ‘holiday fling.’

“Where you going?” He said to you, grabbing at your hand again. Lacing his fingers through yours pulling the back of it up to his lips before placing a kiss.

“Just didn’t know if you’d want something to be documented… or like I don’t know assumptions made.. “ you sort of stuttered beating around the bush.

“Baby…I’m telling you now, if I did not want to hold someone’s hand in public...” he paused, pulling your hand back to his lips for another kiss. “I definitely wouldn’t”

“Yeah?” You asked shyly.

“I promise you, beautiful. Plus, you’re not a bad looking girl to be photographed with, wouldn’t exactly hurt my image.” He mused

“Your image!… Oh my god, You’re the absolute most!” You feigned annoyance.

“Nah, but it’s just you and me. Okay? Not really concerned about anyone else.” He continued.

“Trent…” you questioned his sincerity.

“Baby, I told you. You’re mine so I’m going to do what I want with you, I’m going to hold your hand. Okay by you?” He said finally arriving at your building.

“Yeah, whatever you want I guess” You hummed, happy with his possessiveness.

“I want to be with you. I don’t want to involve anyone else. I just want to keep you to myself.”

“So you're hiding me?” You questioned now thinking a little too much about your situation; his reality and how you fit.

“Nah, no. Would maybe use the word protecting if anything. It’s just a shitty thing once people know too much. Promise. People can know I’m wrapped up but anything outside of that… details… doesn’t involve them.” He tried to explain.

“Wrapped up?” You asked.

“I think so, I don’t really know how else to say it” he said, no longer making eye contact with you. Trent definitely had you wrapped up. You were completely wrapped around his finger. He could’ve told you he was using you for sex or he wanted to get married tonight either way you would have agreed.

“Afternoon Ms. Y/N” your doorman spoke as you walked through your lobby.

“Hi yeah, you okay?” You returned, your doorman giving you a quizzical look as Trent continued to hold onto your hand. You picked up his hand with yours to show the doorman. You knew him well enough to know he recognized Trent, you two often discussing football.

“My friend, Trent.” You said

“Nice to meet you sir. Take care of her. If you need anything let me know per usual.” He said courteously looking from Trent to you.

“He knows you wellll. Bring a lot of lads through here?” Trent poked.

“Literally. Never” you quipped walking to the lift. “But he also knows I have a crush on you because we talked about our favorite footballers once and he put two and two together so this will be embarrassing when you ghost me” You continued..

“Aww I’m your favorite player babyyyy.” He patronized you teasingly. “But back up a minute... you think I’m crazy? You're nuts! Just let me like you, I’m not ghosting you!” He said taking a step into the lift after you.

“No, no, no. You’re staying here.” You said pointing to a lounge across from you. “Get out.” Pushing him lightly, physically out of the lift, giggling a little.

“Thought you were kidding but fine…Maybe I’ll go to talk to your doorman about your favorite player, learn a little something” Trent joked.

“Not funny. Stay here.” You said sternly as the door started to close. “I’m serious, T!” You cried out before it shut entirely.

•

Thank you for continuing reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think or if you have any thoughts/ questions! 🤍

Next part is up - Chapter 6

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold imagines

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 36: Alexander's Desire

Previous Masterlist Next

June 1905

TW: mind control, captivity, human auction

Lex was bored.

He was surrounded by vampires all dolled up in their best attire, eager to see and be seen at the most high-end auction in the entire region, and he could hardly bring himself to care. All of the chatter was petty politics and gossip and who-is-wearing-what and who-is-buying-what, and it was hard to feign the slightest bit of interest.

Still, he did need a thrall. His long-time thrall Edmund had died of old age and blood loss after a lifetime of service. He'd been a good thrall, quiet and obedient, and his presence had eased some of Lex's loneliness. His loss was felt keenly. He knew that a good portion of the vampires here, even those who loved their human pets and servants, would scoff at the depths of Lex's grief over a mere thrall. Lex had always had too soft a heart, a fact that his sire never hesitated to remind him of.

Even so, the grief stung whenever he allowed himself to feel it -- whenever he had need to venture into the cold, spotless kitchen or start up the fire himself. He no longer had anyone to read particularly interesting passages of books to or play music for. There was no more wry chuckle when Lex made a mistake. No one to accompany him to the opera or ballet.

He'd hastily skipped the cattle pen of mind-wiped humans -- he found the entire idea distasteful, their vacant eyes unsettling -- in favor of perusing those designated as servants. Every one had bowed politely to him, addressed him as Mr. Alexander, and answered his questions briefly and with civility. Each one had been so enthralled as to lose most of whatever personality they might've had, and it might take years to draw any of it out of them, like it had with Edmund. The fashion of the time, unfortunately.

But his need for fresh blood couldn't be denied any longer, and even though these humans were unappealing in demeanor, his mouth still watered at the smell. At this rate, all he could do was pick out the most promising of the lot, take them home, and hope to coax some life out of them.

How tedious.

How very, very lonely.

There was, of course, one wild card, one wrench in the machine: his sire-sister, Lily, who had pulled him aside earlier that night to tell him about a secret project she had, a thrall that Lex would just love. That was mildly terrifying, coming from her -- Lex shuddered to think what she'd done to the poor human. Lily's skills in conditioning were second to none, but her ideas of what made a good thrall often ran counter to the grain.

He took his polite leave from the sixth vampire who'd stopped him in the hall, eager to curry favor with him and thereby curry favor with his sire, and headed into an ornately-decorated side room.

There, in the center of the room, stood a man with short blond hair, a stunning red velvet ball gown, and a cocky grin on his face. The thrall looked Lex up and down, and his grin only grew wider.

Lily was standing to his side, wearing some frilly pink confection of a dress. "This is the vampire I wanted you to meet, Fitz."

"Oh, this is Mr. Alexander?" said Fitz. "You didn't tell me he looked like this, sir. I might need to take back what I said about not wanting to serve a vampire."

"This is my special project, Lex," said Lily, bursting with pride. 

"The special-est, sir."

"Lex, meet Fitz."

"Charmed, sir, both literally and figuratively," said Fitz, bowing with a little flourish.

Lex stood there, stunned, not knowing quite how to react. "Are you... have you actually been... what I mean to say is, are you a thrall?"

"I've been hypnotized to hell and back by Miss Lily here, if that's what you mean, sir," he said. "But for better or worse, she's allowed me to retain my sparkling wit."

"Is that so?" Lex glanced over at Lily, who was looking incredibly smug. He had to hand it to her: this thrall at least wasn't boring. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen such life in the eyes of a thrall.

"But enough about me, sir," said Fitz, getting into Lex's personal space. He smelled like lavender and rich, delicious blood, and that confident smile paired with sparkling blue-gray eyes was undeniably handsome. "Let's talk about you. Specifically, why you should buy me."

"Isn't that also about you?"

"You got me there, sir." Fitz laughed.

"Why would you even want me to buy you?" said Lex. "You seem to have your mind intact. You know that you'd be my servant, you'd lose your freedom, and I'd drink your blood."

"I don't know if you noticed, sir, but that's going to happen to every human here, or so I'm told. If I'm going to be a servant and delicious meal anyway, I might as well pick my poison, right? And you seem at least to be a very attractive poison."

Lex had seen thralls fawn and beg before, but he hadn't ever seen a thrall openly flirt. It was nakedly manipulative, of course, but the fact that the thrall was even capable of manipulation was intriguing.

"What are your interests, Fitz?" said Lex.

"The stage is my passion, I'm proficient in magic tricks, passable at fortunetelling, excellent at cards, and dabble in all sorts of arts and crafts and handiwork, sir."

"Do you play any instruments?"

"The guitar and the piano, sir, although I wouldn't expect concert-quality performances."

Lex couldn't help but smile. A thrall that played music, and had his mind together enough to indulge in hobbies! He'd longed for a thrall like this ever since he'd buried poor Edmund. Despite himself, he was already losing himself in a daydream of Fitz in his music room, playing a simple tune on his guitar, filling his bleak and lonely mansion with song.

He shook himself out of it. He couldn't give away his interest too obviously.

"Hmm, let's see," he said, hooking a finger under Fitz's chin and directing him to look him in the eye. His blood smelled like a delectable feast, and it was eroding Lex's self-control. He couldn't hold back his vampiric aura, and he saw Fitz's eyes go wide under his influence. Oh, that was gorgeous. "If I were to buy you, would you offer your blood to me?"

"Yes, yes, sir," he said, now looking more like a dazed thrall, tilting his head to the side to expose his neck. Lex had found this fawning behavior uninteresting from the other, more heavily conditioned thralls -- but on Fitz, who just moments before had been bright and alert, it was intoxicating. "Being fed on by a vampire exactly like you is all I can think about lately. Drink, please."

Lex realized that he was far, far too blood-starved to rationally deal with this kind of temptation. He released Fitz from the spell, seconds away from losing himself and biting into merchandise that wasn't his. Yet, came the automatic thought, which he tried to dismiss.

Life returned to Fitz. "You deserve to drink from someone with blood as good as mine, sir."

"Oh?" Lex cocked an eyebrow. "How do you even know that your blood tastes good?"

"Well, a serious looking man in a very dapper suit told me that my blood was top shelf triple-A fancy grade, sir," said Fitz. "He seemed very authoritative, so I'm inclined to believe him utterly."

Lex laughed. It was probably the first time he'd laughed since Edmund died.

Oh, he was in trouble. This wasn't a thrall he would settle for because he needed fresh blood to live. He wanted this thrall. And he didn't like wanting anything -- it was a recipe for disappointment and disaster. And Lily was grinning like a loon. She knew.

"You're going to cost me a lot of money, aren't you?" he said in defeat.

"You're certainly not the first person to say that to me, sir."

Well, it wasn't like money was a serious obstacle to him. While this style of lucid thrall wouldn't appeal to some of the vampires here, the fact that Fitz had the highest graded blood Lex had seen at a local auction would drive his price sky-high regardless of his personality. And unfortunately, Lex already knew that he was willing to pay just about any price for this one. The thought of another vampire buying him, dragging him away by his handcuffs, sinking their fangs into what was rightfully his --

No, this was ridiculous. He had to keep his calm until the auction proper.

"I -- I really should -- I should take my leave and peruse the rest of the merchandise," said Lex as casually as he could muster, as though he hadn't already looked over most of the available thralls and found them lacking.

"Well, you're certainly not going to find anything better than me, but I understand the impulse," said Fitz. "I hope to see you again, sir."

Lex rushed out before he could get drawn back in.

He stalked down the hallway, past chattering vampires, hoping to find a relatively secluded place to clear his head, finally settling on a padded bench in a small windowless nook. His head was spinning with the desire to possess. He'd been starving for both fresh blood and companionship ever since Edmund's death, and still nothing else had sparked the flame of need so deep inside him as this one particular thrall. His mind was filled with fantasy of Fitz playing guitar and singing in the music room, of Lex stroking his fingers through his hair while they lounged by the fire, of how his sparkling eyes would look when Lex enthralled him to feed...

And the way Fitz had entreated him to feed! That was all Lily's deep conditioning, of course, but it seemed so real coming from him, as though his need for a vampire's fangs was genuine. He'd always known Lily was a genius at enthrallment, but Fitz had to be her finest work yet.

Lex tensed at the sound of approaching footsteps, not eager to make pleasantries with yet another respectable vampire, gushing over some empty-eyed, mumbling thrall and asking Lex to convey their respects to his hated sire. He was relieved to look up and find that the sensible black shoes in his line of vision belonged to his old friend Ruth, one of the sharpest minds in the city.

"Good evening, Lex," she said, sitting on the other end of the bench. "I do hope I'm not interrupting some important brooding."

"You're not interrupting anything in particular. The distraction will do me some good."

"So are you not finding anything you like? That's a bit surprising given how long you've gone without a thrall."

"On the contrary, I may have found something I like too much," he admitted, perhaps unwisely. Ruth was also close friends with Lily, and Lily was bound to be entirely too self-satisfied over her little project's success.

"Ah, is it Lily's little pet? He's quite interesting, isn't he? I think I may bid on him. He'd make an excellent clerk."

Lex couldn't keep the half-horrified, half-ferocious look off his face, his baser instincts howling at the idea of having his new toy taken away from him. Ruth cackled. "What's that face? Don't worry, I'm only teasing you. I won't stand in your way -- you're obviously in need of a proper thrall. Or an improper one, as the case may be."

The jealous knot in Lex's chest loosened. He needed to calm himself before the auction proper, lest he make a scene like an unschooled fledgeling. "I appreciate it," he said. 

Ruth put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "It's actually quite a relief to see you desire a thrall again. The strict repression your sire tries to enforce isn't good for you. After all, what's the point of dragging these old corpses around if we can't even enjoy ourselves?"

Enjoy himself?

When was the last time he'd truly enjoyed himself? Before Edmund's death, certainly, in the times when his manor had been less lonely, and he'd had quality blood to drink. Even then, it was difficult for him to grasp more than fleeting moments of contentment -- his master's pursuit of perfection over happiness had its roots deep in his mind. Truly, he'd been denying himself for so long, and in so many ways.

He wanted this. He needed this. He was going to own Fitz, and no vampire would stand in his way.

Previous Masterlist Next

I'm sure this will all turn out fine.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @enigmawriteswhump @foresttheblep

#whump #whump writing #vampire #mind control #captivity #vampire whumper #rare bookseller #alexander #fitz

[bullet-prooflove]

Special Delivery: Alexander 'Tig' Trager x Reader

Part of @storiesofsvu Holiday Bingo! The square was Winter Cabin!

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @mortal--soul @thatonesexycancerian @chaoticqueenie98 @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @thanossexual @anime-weeb-4-life @redpoodlern @nu1freakshow @lexondeck @adaydreamaway08 @goblinenby @fanfic-n-tabulous @just-a-girl-who-wrytes @ankhmutes @keyweegirlie @trublu2u @thebaileybugle @joyfulfxckery @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @multiflixshelves @luvvstvrkeyy @goosterroose @storiesofsvu

Part of the Crazy, Fucked Up Love Arc:

Crazy, Fucked Up Kind of Love - Tig discovers your secret.

Not Leaving: - Tig tells you he's not leaving.

Show You - Tig shows you how beautiful you really are.

Welcome Home (NSFW) - You welcome Tig home in a very special way.

Tig decides he wants his first Christmas with the baby to be special, even if his son still resides inside of you. It’s the reason he plans a babymoon a fortnight before your due date. He has everything planned to perfection. He heads up to the cabin a few days before Christmas Eve with Juice and Kozik, together they set up the tree and decorate the cabin. Jax chops firewood outside, leaving the stack alongside the hearth.

The only problem is Tig can’t cook, he has a couple of recipes under his belt but beyond that he’s out of his depth. He asks Gemma for help and as usual she comes through for him.

“You gonna propose or something?” She asks him as she plans out the shopping list.  

“Suzie’s been a trooper while I’ve been running between Stockton and Reno trying to smooth over all this shit with the guns.” He tells Gemma as he sits down at her kitchen table with a cup of coffee. “I haven’t been around as much as I would have liked.”

“You’re trying to make it up to her before the baby comes.” Gemma says knowingly, tapping her pen upon the surface of the notepad.

“I want to remind her how special she is.” Tig explains to Gemma, his thumb tapping against the mug. “How much her and the baby mean to me. It’s not been easy, being apart, especially when she’s so far along.”

“Hence Christmas up in the cabin.” Gemma summarises as she sits back in her chair.  “It’s rustic, it’s quiet, the perfect place to have a little mommy and daddy time before baby Matthew arrives. I’ll cook something up for the two of you and get Chibs to bring it up later with the gifts from him and Evelyn.”

“Thank you, you’re a godsend.” Tig says, kissing her on the cheek as he raises to his feet.

When you step into the cabin, he can see how much you love it. You’ve always wanted to have Christmas in a cabin, you remember telling him that on your second date. You’d been talking about favourite holidays; he wasn’t big on them, but you were. You loved everything about the Christmas season, the lights, the magic, even the Santa suit…

Especially the Santa suit as he had learned last year. He’d noticed the way you’d got a little hot and bothered while editing a Santa porno and decided to test his theory. It had been the most debauched night of his life, the things the two of you had gotten up to…

He can’t look at old St Nick without a blush creeping across his cheeks and he certainly could not return that suit.

You spend the evening in front of the fire, resting on Tig’s chest as you doze on the couch. You listen to the sound of his heart beating in his chest, your fingers playing over the fine chest hair. You’re half asleep when Chibs lets himself in. Tig tilts his head towards the other man who holds up a gift bag of presents in one hand and bag of carefully prepared food in the other.

“Just dropping off.” He says softly, a smile tugging at his features.

You struggle into a sitting position on the couch, your palm smoothing over the roundness of your belly before you say.

“Actually Chibs, I think my water just broke.”

It moves quickly from there.

There’s been a crash on the country road leading up to the cabin, there’s no way an ambulance can get through until the cars have been cleared from the road. It’s a fast labour, before you know it Chibs is between your legs telling you to push. Tig sits behind you, your back pressing against his chest as he murmurs soothing words into your ear.

The language that comes out of your mouth...

A sailor would be proud.

Chibs delivers the baby on the rug in front of the fire.

“Welcome to the world bonnie wee lad.” Chibs grins as he holds up the baby. He has a flock of Tig’s dark hair and the most beautiful blue eyes you’ve ever seen. Chibs wraps the infant up in a fleece blanket from the back of the couch before handing him over to you.

Tig’s cheek comes to rest against yours as you cradle your son close to your chest, his lips ghosting across your skin.

“You did good Suzie Q.” Tig whispers as he looks down at Matthew Filip Trager. “You did so good.”

Love Tig? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Can’t get enough of Tig? Check out his Masterlist here!

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#alexander trager #alexander tig trager #tig trager #alexander trager x reader #alexander trager x you #tig trager x you #tig trager x reader #storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023

[roseharpermaxwell]

RWRB FirstPrince Sports (AU or Otherwise) Recs

Hockey, Lacrosse, Rugby - you name it, I'm here for it. Click below for some of my faves!

Born To Make History by @everwitch-magiks. T, 1.3k. This season, Henry has a new free skate. It's sassy, flirty, and actually genuinely fun, and somehow, it's taken him all the way to the Grand Prix Final. Still, even though Henry has perfected his lutz since his last competitive season, and gets that all too important second-half multiplier for every quad in his arsenal, he knows he isn't half as good as most of his competition. There's no way he's actually getting on the podium.

Except, one persistently curious and curiously attentive pair skater, with a distressingly attractive smile, gorgeous brown eyes and very interesting ambitions for the post-competition gala, seems to think otherwise.

'Coast-to-Coast' by @cheesecurdsgravyandfries. E, 1.3k. Lacrosse slang - when a player nearest their end-line takes the ball all the way down the field to the opposing team's end of the field.

Alex finds his old high school lacrosse jersey. Henry wears it.

The jersey is tight across Henry’s broad shoulders, the polymesh sleeves pulled by the tension, making Henry’s biceps pop, and if the hem didn’t reach the waistband of Alex’s underwear, it doesn’t stand a chance on Henry’s long torso. There’s at least two inches of skin visible between the top, and the band of Henry’s red D&G briefs - so selected tonight, because the red matches that in Alex’s high school logo on his chest. Henry looks sexy as hell, and he knows it.

i could be a better boyfriend by bananzie. T, 2.4k. It wasn't that Alex didn't like telling people about Henry—quite the opposite, actually—it was just that no one ever believed him when he did.

An AU in which Henry is one of England’s most famous rugby players, Alex met him during an exchange year, and they’re so in love it’s sickening, but no one believes him.

who are we to fight the alchemy by @coffeecatsme. T, 3.1k. INTERVIEWER: Kiss, marry, kill, between Taylor Swift, Beatrice Fox of the Tortured Poets, and Dua Lipa.

ALEX: Oh God, I’m gonna get so cancelled. Uh… Well, my sister would absolutely kill me if I killed Taylor Swift so I guess I gotta kiss her? I mean, she’s hot. And I guess I’m killing Dua Lipa? That leaves… Can I, like, take her brother instead of Beatrice Fox? He’s more my type.

Or, Cowboys star Alex crashes out of the closet in an interview. This is how everyone reacts.

Sets on the Beach by @happiness-of-the-pursuit. M, 3.6k. 95% of the able-bodied New York City queer population sign up to play intramural beach volleyball in the summer (this statistic is not supported by Nora). Unfortunately for Alex, this number includes Henry Fox and his very broad shoulders. Despite Henry’s unsportsmanlike recruiting and stupid genetic advantages, Alex is determined to take him (and the rest of Queerly the Best) down.

go the distance by @indomitable-love. T, 3.7k. His legs are like jello. He’s not entirely sure how he’s still upright. He’s running on fumes and the energy gel he’d been handed about forty minutes ago by one of the secret service as he’d passed by. Fumes, energy gel pouches, the roar of the crowd against New York streets, and pure adrenaline because he can see the finish line. He knows what’s there: June and Nora and Henry.

Henry. The reason Alex is doing this whole damn thing in the first place.

Alex decides to run a marathon. It's all Henry's fault, really.

Red, White & Navy Blue by @jedusaur. E, 4.4k. "Fine," says Alex. He clenches his jaw and his fists. "Great. Watch me. I'll bromance the shit out of the motherfucker." 

Twenty Seven Batters by @historicallysam. T, 4.6k. A ballplayer will refuse to stop playing because they want one more hit, steal, strikeout. One more homerun. One more win. So they get old and they lose their skill and embarrass themselves long after they should have hung up their spikes.

If that’s the rule, then Alexander Claremont-Diaz is the exception.

Because today, at age 38, Alexander Claremont-Diaz is six outs away from a perfect game.

Catch and Release by @welcometololaland. T, 4.8k. Henry isn't good at many things, but he is fairly good at rowing - something which is very deeply fine, until a transfer student from America turns up.

When Henry winds up being Alex's roommate on a training camp, they don't get off to a great start. Fortunately, their coach has other ideas.

A slice of the rowing AU involving midnight training sessions, extreme physical exertion and just a little bit of Only One Bed.

You Spin Me (Right Round) by @myheartalivewrites. E, 5.4k. “...he signs up for Henry’s evening class again, and if he comes in wearing a cropped sleeveless t-shirt with a bi pride flag on it and skintight burgundy leggings, well, that’s just a coincidence. He doesn’t necessarily mean anything by it.”

Henry is a spinning instructor and Alex is attending his first class after being ill. The whole thing is unexpectedly moving. And horny. Everyone is WAY TOO horny.

you know i love a london boy by @coffeecatsme.  T, 6.5k. “A very special friendship bracelet,” Bea corrects, with such a delight in her voice that Henry is immediately suspicious. He grabs the darn thing and twists it around, glittery beads shining under the lights of the room. A phone number, if Henry is counting them right. Despite himself, his heart skips a beat. “From the one and only Alexander Claremont-Diaz.” She grins, bouncing on the balls of her feet—the day she stops playing matchmaker for her brother will surely be a cold day in hell. The sole excitement of her life since she doesn’t do romance.

Henry twists the bracelet in his hands, counting the numbers again, and then looks up. “Who?”

Or, 5 times Alex and Henry keep their relationship a secret and 1 time they don't. 

let's get lost (and let the good times roll) by riversdeep. M, 6.5k. “Fuck, sorry,” The man says, distinctly American, holding a hand out to right Henry where he’s fallen. His face comes into view as Henry lets the man pull him up, worried eyes and furrowed brows, and he’s utterly mortified to realise that the man isn’t just any random man, he’s Alex Claremont-Diaz, June’s volleyball playing brother. Her very attractive, very concerned looking volleyball playing brother.

There's No Problem That San Diego Can't Solve by @historicallysam. T, 6.7k. Alex doesn’t even bother knocking; he simply twists the knob on the door and shoves it open. His eyes narrow as the door bangs against the wall and he sees Henry on the phone. Maybe (definitely) it’s rude but his blood is fucking boiling so he doesn’t really care.

Because I’m A Scoundrel by @inexplicablymine. E, 8.3k. Alex Claremont-Diaz has exactly thirty minutes to make himself look as slutty as possible for this Halloween Gala. At this very moment he looks a little bit like a sexed up pirate, but with the addition of his small black vest - rest in peace to the Patagonia packers and finance brethren- and a low slung belt with a “blaster,” a very sex-on-legs Han Solo is looking back at him.

Henry Fox, who is both a double scull rower with enough Olympic medals it would make anyone other than Alex sweat, and the definitive arch nemesis of Alex - is wearing a white sylvette Princess Leia costume, hugging his curves in all the right ways, the clingy fabric draping to the floor.

When you and your arch nemesis show up to the most important gala of the year in a couples costume you either play it up or shut it down. Alex has a decision to make, but the way that dress is hugging Henry’s ass isn’t making that decision any easier.

(la)cross(e) my heart by weather_stained. E, 8.6k. Alex is determined to start a lacrosse team at his college. It's his junior year, and he's closer than ever. That is, until he finds out someone else is trying to start a rugby team, and there's only enough funding for one additional sport.

Clubs Day comes around, and he finds that his rival is no other than the insufferable Henry Fox. Alex definitely doesn't spent more time staring at Henry instead of running his booth, but if he does, it doesn't mean he's obsessed with him or anything.

Thin Ice series by @priincebutt. E, 8.8k. Alexander Claremont-Diaz, charismatic center for the NHL's Dallas Stars, is completely and utterly smitten with the posh British librarian he met by complete accident. Tonight is the night, and he's got a plan to completely woo Henry and get his man.

Don't Quit It by @inexplicablymine. M, 9k. “And goddamn last but not least on my Hit It and Don’t Quit It list would be the Saracens rugby player Henry Fox. That man has great depths, and he could so easily plumb my depths, if you know what I’m saying. An all-around fantastic player, but also someone who is ridiculously smart off the field. And we all know by now that everyone on this list features my mile-wide competency kink. Henry, if you are seeing this, we could play around with some balls that aren’t just in play.”

Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck.

Alex has just accidentally outed himself to 6.7 million people. And according to the comments section, they seem to be all too aware.

Or... Announcing your crush via viral TikTok... that's one way to get his attention ;)

Puck It by @kiwiana-writes. E, 9.7k. “I’m English, dear,” Henry tells him, and fuck if the nickname isn’t doing something to Alex too. “Our national sport is rugby, and we play it with a lot less protective gear. Though,” he adds thoughtfully, “rugby players do wear mouth guards, which means they have the significant advantage of generally keeping all their teeth.”

“We wear mouth guards.” It’s a common misconception, and one that annoys the shit out of him. “And I’ve still got all my teeth. Wanna check?” 

Love-Love by @smc-27. T, 10k. “I hear Alex Claremont-Diaz is available,” she says, and while the idea is terribly appealing, he knows that it is incorrect.

“Alex is an incredible tennis player. If he wanted to pair up, I’d be open to that.”

It is not often Henry’s mouth gets him in trouble. Years of media training and growing up with a celebrity for a dad have left him very practiced in the subtle art of the spin.

Apparently the mere mention of Alex had all that leaving his head entirely.

lacrosse, my heart by indomitablelove. E, 10k. Logically, Henry should have known to expect this. He’s aware of how lacrosse works. Or, at least, he’s developed enough of an understanding of how lacrosse works through Alex. He’s seen photos of Alex in his lacrosse uniform before, and yet somehow that still doesn’t prepare him for the sight of seeing Alex actually playing lacrosse.

Alex returns to his high school to play a charity lacrosse match. Henry joins him and sees Alex play lacrosse for the first time.

You didn't tell me you play rugby by Moony_Reggie_stars_1003. E, 10k. Alex finds out that Henry plays rugby, and has some very specific feelings about it.

Tread Lightly by @smc-27. E, 11k. Alex notices this guy the moment he walks in. Which implies that he hasn’t noticed the guy before now, which isn’t true at all. He’s seen him around. He - like everyone else - has stared at the guy’s eyes and waist and thighs and fucking Disney prince swoopy hair.

Alex is really used to hitting on people and getting the outcome he wants.

Or: Lax bro Alex wants Henry

How to stay with you by lovergalore. E, 12k. Alex feels like he hasn’t slept in weeks, which is essentially ever since he got his new roommate, Henry. Alex doesn’t have anything against his roommate—or his sexual proclivities; obviously, there’s nothing wrong with that, but it gets to a point where almost every other night Henry has a ‘friend’ over and Alex has to pull out his noise-canceling headphones to be able to endure another minute in their shared dorm.

CHECK(MATE) by ma_lark_ey. T, 14k. "It's such an unexpected pairing, a hockey player and a punk star. How'd you too meet?"

"Oh, well, it's really silly. It actually started when Alex's fans started..."

"I met Henry because my Tumblr followers started this elaborate hoax about us being best friends."

"And, let me guess, you ran with it?"

"Oh, June, you know I commit to a good bit."

Pumped by myheartalive. E, 22k. Recently moved to London, Alex meets Henry at a climbing wall, where accidental rudeness and misunderstandings keep them apart, until they don’t.

There's pining, there's climbing, there's stupid boys falling for each other, and smut towards the end.

Show Me What You’re Working With by @clottedcreamfudge. E, 23k. He doesn't want to think the words "monster cock" but frankly, it's too fucking late, because they're now living rent-free in his brain in twenty-foot high neon letters.

How does that even work? Do the women he sleeps with come out changed? Does he have the goddamn ER on alert every time he goes on a date?

Alex isn't into dick, except maybe he is, and maybe this one specifically. 

the winner takes it all by @dumbpeachjuice. E, 24k. In theory, this shouldn’t be a thing. Alex has spent his whole life around other cyclists, on the track and the road and off both, and he’s never had this sort of visceral reaction to any of them.

(Well. Kind of. Maybe he let his eyes linger on a teammate once or twice. But like—Alex is an athlete. He appreciates the human form.)

But the way the muscles in Henry Fox’s thighs stretch and ripple as he urges his bike up the mountain—

Yeah.

It’s a lot.

And if Alex weren’t so determined to steal that yellow jersey off his back he’d fall off his bike.

Made the Right Selection by clottedcreamfudge. E, 27k. "You don't take 'no' for an answer, do you?" Henry says curiously, and Alex cocks his head to the side; his hair falls into his eyes just a little but he doesn't bother to brush it aside. Henry's fingers itch to do it for him.

"I do when it's the actual answer," he says eventually, and Henry's face twists into a smile.

"Right," he says.

"Alex, come the fuck on," Nora calls over from where the squad has started to wander off into whatever day there is left. Henry suspects, looking at the sun, that there's rather a lot of it to go.

"See you later, H," Alex says with a grin, and then he's gone, leaving Henry with his helmet in his hand and his heart in his throat.

Alex is a cheerleader. That's the premise. 

catch my breath to breathe your name by goingmywaydoll. M, 29k. “So,” the person says without pause, “I heard you like soccer butts but not the people attached to them.”

Where Henry’s family owns a (fictional) football club and Alex is fresh from the States and the new star addition to the team and it's all entirely predictable.

Stupid Games, Stupid Prizes by JustAnotherWriter_93. E, 38k. The College AU where Alex is a football player, and Henry has had a secret crush on him for two years, attending every football game possible. Henry thinks that getting involved with Alex will be nothing but a disaster, Alex thinks that maybe he isn’t as straight as he thought, and they’re both a little bit right.

Faster, Higher, Stronger by everwitch. E, 64k. When Alex fails to qualify for the 2022 Winter Olympics, it’s all too easy to blame Henry Fox, the dual citizen who’d switched from Team GB to Team USA and snagged the last spot for men’s figure skating. After Alex is abruptly thrown back into the games, he forms an unexpectedly deep connection with Henry. But no athlete who aims for the top of the podium can afford any serious distractions. Will Alex be able to keep his flaring emotions in check and take home the Olympic gold medal he’s always aimed for?

Baseball Boyfriends series by bleedingballroomfloor. E, 121k. “It’s just — I’ve had such a hard time feeling like I really belonged. I think that’s what got me in the slump in the first place. But coming back here, seeing all the love I still got even though I’m not on the Rangers anymore… that really helped. And being on the Mets, being in New York — you helped with all of that. More than you’ll ever know.”

Or, Alex and Henry are dumb, horny disasters. With an added bonus of baseball.

A Sporting Chance series by clottedcreamfudge. E, 236k. "Marry Henry - destination wedding. Combine all of our names so paperwork is a fucking nightmare." Henry stares at him and Pez rolls the dice, and-

"Congratulations to Alex and Henry Claremont-Diaz-Fox-Mountchristen," he says with a bright grin, and Alex punches the air and makes a 'whooping' noise. "Your wedding is attended by the Beckhams, the President, and several key members of congress. Henry is very gentle on your wedding night." Henry is going to fucking kill Pez.

"Fucking sweet," Alex says, because Henry is apparently the only one here trying not to have a coronary about all of this.

It had just been a party game, except now Henry is in way over his head.

I only tag an author once per post, but I'm still figuring out firstprince author handles. If you see one I may not know or find a broken link, please give me a heads up!

Master List of RWRB FirstPrince Recs

Master List of Recommendations

#firstprince #rwrb fic recs #rwrb #alex x henry #red white & royal blue

[a-midnight-rest]

Fixing the T'au empire part 2

So, in the first part I explained how the T'au were fine as they were, because their relatively hopeful outlook on the galaxy shone bright in contrast of the rest of the setting, how that turn the rest of the setting even darker, and how I love the idea that the solution to the Galaxy's problem is a truly different, alien approach to our individualist societies.

However, I have come to realize something, a reason as to why the T'au Empire may not feel at home in the 40k universe, and I thought about it by watching Indiana Jones 4, so sacrifices have been made.

The T'au Empire is not mythological.

The 40k is not a sci-fi setting, it is a dark fantasy setting with guns. And part of what makes the grandiosity of it is how mythologized every faction is. And I do not speak about religion, I speak of myths as in the stories we, right now, tell ourselves are the foundations of the world, the archetypes of what is and is not.

The Imperium incarnates the various mythologies of vast empires. Alexander the Great, Genghis Khan, the British Empire, vast swats of lands combining different people united by righteousness and oppression. And also how all those empires fell. It's the idea of "things were better before" (even when they were not). Moreover, the equipment used by this faction is deliberatly old, centuries old, technology is religiously taken care of, weapons are blessed, vehicles are passed down from generation to generation. It is all very old, marked with that myths of the old Empire on its last leg.

The Orks are the Barbarians At the Gate, the savages who relish only destruction, like Attila the Hun, but british. In truth, it's not like barbarians actually existed, those were just foreign countries, but the myth is there.

The Tyranids are the Monsters in the Dark.

The Craftworld Eldars are the Atlanteans, the Utopians, the Babelians, the Old Civilization who fell due to their own hubris, and is now a superior people with no place to call home and no way back their transgression.

The Dark Eldars are the Feys of old, trolls, goblins, fairies stealing children in the night, playing cruel and horrific pranks, eating people. And following them to their home is a death sentence.

The Chaos is the Evil of Man, the primordial sin, the dark part of Humanity that eats itself to death, self destructive and perverse (They should have western dragons, that would fit them).

The Necrons are Death, or at least they try. They are like the Craftworld Eldars in a sense, but in a more Inevitable return way.

But the T'au? They do not fit any myth, in fact they specifically are immune to myths and the Warp. They are no none-sense, they do not play by any rule. As they were written, they would be better as a recurring joke than a faction. Everything about them is bright new, from theme to lore, and it makes them feel shallow.

There is one exception to that, and that is Farsight, who fit the myth of the Virtuous Rebel, an archetype that is not really coined by any faction as far as I know. In a way, he could also be kind like King Arthur, with his magic blade and his knights around him, but the clash of eastern/western reference hide this interpretation of him.

So... how to fix it? Modern problems requires modern myths.

As I said, myths are not about what is actually old, myths are always modern, visions we have right now about the past. So what Myth could fit the T'au Empire? I think we must look to a very modern work of literature: The SCP Foundation. A collective work written like articles depicting how an advanced and secret organization captures, study, and contains supernatural entities. They are much like the Men in Black, or the government in X-Files. They gain they mythology not through what they are, but what they deal with.

I think we should make the T'au Empire's main armies kinda fade in the background and focus on an organisation within the the T'au Empire that would approach the other mythological faction with a saavy appraoch based on tech to contain and use the horrors back at the horrors. A cold scalpel who knows what they are dealing with, knows they are outmatched, and use secrecy, focused efforts, and unconventional tactics to deal with it. The T'au Empire already have the foundation for it, they are technologically advanced, learn from their mistakes, and have authoritarian ruling cast shrouded in mystery.

They could pop up bio/cyber/solar-punks units, highly specialised and modified modern soldiers. Not the WW1 Kriegsmen, not the WWII Cadians, not the Catachan Rambos, not the Angelic Space Marines. People, with modern, recognizable equipment, turning to extremes in order to deal with demons, and civilizations using farming equipment more ancient than their prehistory.

In that perspective, the T'au main armies would kind of become the background, the necessary fight force to win actual battles and hold ground. Their stories could develop nicely on their own until they become established enough to have their own mythos. But the main event would be the Secret Cadre, the Black ops, the Foundation, the Men In Black of the T'au Empire, using not ancient techs and beliefs against demons like the Inquisition does, but developing Reality anchors of their own, sending modified Tyranid viruses into the other faction, using Soul Traps to capture and send daemons to corrupt enemy tanks.

Fire warriors spawned from tyranids biopools, weapons build by engineers trapped in time distortion to produce more advanced stuff faster, ships recycled from Space Hulks...

To mythologize the T'au, the T'au must, I believe, become Myth users to become Myth Breakers.

#warhammer 40k #t'au empire #Imperium #Orks #Myths #Tyranids #Space Marines #Chaos #Farsight #tau #tau empire

[football-and-fanfics]

Advice - Trent Alexander-Arnold

Who: Trent Alexander-Arnold, Jordan Henderson Request: Trent asking Hendo for advice bc he’s thinking about proposing his gf. Like asking how do you know she’s the one and stuff. Strong big bro, little brother vibes. Requested by: anonymous Warnings: none

Trent had been thinking about proposing to you for a while now. He was convinced he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, but with that, so came the doubts. Did you want to spend the rest of your life with him? You had once mentioned that it was a dream of yours to be married one day, but you and Trent had never spoken into any further detail about it.

Trent thought long and hard on it, but finally decided to confide in the one person he trusted most on matters like these: Jordan.

"Hendo?" Trent gathered up the courage after today's training. "C--can I have a word? In private?" Jordan nodded, before taking Trent apart from the rest of the team still out on the training pitch. "Are you okay?" "Yes," Trent answered, "but... I need some advice." The worried frown on Jordan's brow loosened. "Anytime."

Trent hesitated, silently searching for the words that would do justice to what he felt. Jordan didn't pressure him in any way, and patiently waited for Trent to talk.

"I..." Trent nervously fidgeted his hands together. "I want to propose to my girlfriend, but I am at a complete loss on how to handle this." A soft smile played on Jordan's lips. "That's perfectly normal." He rested a hand on Trent's shoulder. "It's not just any decision you're making, so I would actually be rather surprised if you had everything figured out immediately."

Trent took a shaky breath. It was a relief to hear that what he was feeling was perfectly normal. "So what do I do?" He looked helplessly up at Jordan. "How can I be sure she feels the same way about me?" "Has she given you any reasons to doubt?" Jordan asked. Trent determinedly shook his head. "No, never. I'm very sure I want to do this. I mean, I've had the ring for weeks already." "Than don't worry," Jordan reassured, "trust your gut. And if you ask me: there's no chance in hell she'll say no." "You really think that?" Trent mumbled. "Yes," Jordan winked, "because I know true love when I see it."

Trent felt a weight lift off his shoulders. With Jordan's reassurances, he suddenly felt like he could fight the whole world.

"I'm going to do it." A broad, intensely happy smile broke over Trent's face. "I'm actually going to ask her to marry me! We're going out for dinner tonight, and I'm-- I'm going to pop the question."

Jordan chuckled at the happiness radiating off of Trent. "Good luck, mate. And I'll see you tomorrow as an engaged man."

Tags: @evie-pr, @auawdo, @meteora-fc, @stonesyyyy, @drizzyreese, @hbstre, @liverpoolfanfiction, @sternennebel2001, @mrswinksy, @themoon-shines TAA tags: @sanchoj7 PL / LFC tags: @ella33, @candlelitutopia, @percervall

Add me to the tags list General masterlist | TAA masterlist

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagine #trent alexander arnold blurb #trent alexander arnold fanfic #trent alexander arnold fanfiction #football imagine #football blurb #football fanfic #football fanfiction #footballer imagine #footballer blurb #footballer fanfic #footballer fanfiction #footballandfanficstrentaa

[alakeeffectgirl]

do we need a cruisequarries primer? yes

Welcome to the old men and their wife fandom, these are the old men (pictured here on the press tour for Mission: Impossible - Dead Reckoning, Part One [a title I never want to type out fully again])

Yes, that's Tom Cruise. The guy in the John Hammond Jurassic Park cosplay is Chris McQuarrie, aka McQ, who directed MI:DR and also directed the previous two MI movies and Jack Reacher. You might also know Chris McQuarrie as the guy who won an Oscar for writing The Usual Suspects and got nominated for another two Oscars writing/producing Top Gun: Maverick.

McQ willed their friendship into being in 2006, when he was about to quit Hollywood because he was sick of it (McQ's grand dream has been to make a big bisexual Alexander the Great movie but Oliver Stone beat him to it, and after his first directorial endeavor was basically a flop, no one wanted to give him the money to make a huge epic - but you can't blame him for thinking it could work like that, because he watched Bryan Singer make The Usual Suspects and then get handed X-Men), but while out to lunch one day he overheard someone talking about how Tom's career was over because of all his recent shenanigans, and he thought, "I need to meet this guy, because he also sounds like Hollywood's shitting on him at the moment". So he got a couple meetings that got him through to Tom - and for their first meeting he drove over to Tom's house in his bachelor convertible. (No lie. Easily source-able.)

So they hit it off - in the way where they talked about movies for several hours and Tom invited him back again the next day to talk about movies some more. In this same timeline, McQ was shopping the Valkyrie script to United Artists, and when Tom expressed interest, the first thought was that Tom might produce. But then he was like, no, I actually want to play the lead. (Bryan Singer was attached to direct, and I know Bryan Singer sucks, but the backstory here is that McQ and Singer went to high school together, along with Ethan Hawke.) So everyone went to Germany to make the movie in the summer of 2007 - Tom and his family, and McQuarrie and his family.

This is Chris and Heather in 2000 at the premiere of The Way of the Gun, so before they met Tom. I include because they're adorable and also because the glow-up is fantastic. (The story of how they got together is like Jeopardy trivia and I would tell you to google Stephen Chbosky and McQ together to find it except what the fuck, it no longer comes up quickly: anyway, they did a Sundance Labs together and Chbosky gave McQ the Perks of Being a Wallflower manuscript and McQ got to the "we accept the love we think we deserve" line and thought about the woman he'd met a few times before [when they'd flirt at parties? apparently?] but thought was out of his league - Heather - and decided to go for it.)

I should mention that McQ was going to take the producing credit on Valkyrie just in name, for sort of bringing the project together, but then Paula Wagner was like, "I can't go to Germany with Tom, and he needs A Guy on scene, and I think you could be That Guy," so Chris said yes to being an actual producer - and ended up basically being the go-between guy between Tom and Singer on set.

Here's Tom & the McQs at the Valkyrie premiere in Rome:

After spending months together in Germany, the McQuarries end up becoming fast friends with the Cruises. Heather runs around NYC/LA with Katie a lot and works on Holmes & Yang, the fashion line. Here they are looking cute together:

(They're all good enough friends that the McQuarries go to Tom's surprise birthday bash in July of 2011.)

In the interests of saving just a SMALL amount of time here, I will speedrun: McQ gets brought in (by Tom) to help fix Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol, and learns a bunch of stuff about how he doesn't ever want to direct a MI movie. (Lies.) He turns in the Jack Reacher script, which originally wasn't intended for Tom to be in, but when Tom wants to be in your movie, you don't really say no. Reacher films in Pennsylvania in the fall/winter of 2011, and then Tom has to go to promo for MI:GP before he starts work on Oblivion. It's now summer of 2012, and the divorce happens. Tom basically moves to London - and the McQuarries move to London - to work on Edge of Tomorrow. Tom takes Chris with him to Croatia.

Lake, you might be thinking. Is McQ now just Tom's emotional support man? Yeah, probably. They get papped going out to dinner together a lot that fall. A gossip website refers to Tom and Heather walking out of a restaurant together as Tom's "cougar date", which will be funny forever.

Tom got Heather in the divorce, clearly. MOVING ON, McQ does splinter unit work on Edge of Tomorrow and then Tom's like, hey you should direct the next Mission movie, and McQ laughs like Tom is kidding but Tom is not. Tom has gone into the other room to call Brad Grey at Paramount and tell him McQ should be the director on Rogue. (This is how McQ ends up doing all this stuff - he's like, "haha, Tom, you kid" but Tom's not kidding and then suddenly people are strapped to the outsides of airplanes and shit.) In the midst of EoT filming, it's time for Reacher promo, so Tom and the McQuarrries fly all around the world together yet again. And holy shit, am I only up to 2013? Still ten years to cover. (I have about 500 more pictures than I am including here, in case anyone wondered.) More ffwd: They make Rogue Nation. Here's everyone - including Heather - in the Vienna subway:

And here's the three of them at an art gallery in London towards the end of the filming period:

The experience of making Rogue is such that McQ attempts to swear he won't do it again. LIES. Tom goes off to make American Made, Jack Reacher: Never Go Back, and The Mummy all in the space of about two years. McQ officially works on two of those, and from the way they talk about American Made, I wouldn't be surprised if he did some script work there, too.

In August of 2016, pre-production on Fallout pauses because Tom is in a pay dispute with the studio, and McQ decides maybe he doesn't want to do the movie and moves his family back to Los Angeles. SURPRISE, Tom calls him up a week or so later and asks him to come to London to talk about it. Guess what, he ends up doing the movie. (For that full story, which is great and includes Tom saying he loves Heather, please find Jeff Goldsmith's Q&A podcast for Fallout.)

Work on Fallout takes up basically the next two years. At the Tokyo premiere, Tom makes Heather cry when he says she takes care of McQ, and takes care of him, too. (Let me know if you want the video.)

Trying to speedrun this is NOT working, and I need to go stare at the ceiling for a while to process today's Sydney premiere kiss happenings. Part two coming eventually?!!? PART TWO PART THREE

#cruisequarries

[alexanderlightweight]

Hope your moving is going swimmingly! I am also moving soon and already stressed l. Plus work so 😬. So my request is something soothing, where Magnus and Alec are just having a lovely time. Verse of your choice

i mean, it happened and it's now past the hardest part! tbh it was stressful and super hot — twas 115ish — but the worst part is now over! Nightshade and the Abyss love the new place and the Abyss is having fun trying to assert her authority over the house — she’s tiny, it’s not going as she planned. however she is about 1/10 of Nightshade’s weight and size and she spent the first night taunting him, teasing him and smacking him with sheathed paws every time he gave in to her meowing at him. 

she likes to wait until nightshade is sleeping and then she sneaks up on him and meows at him until he wakes up and then he goes to say hi, she smacks him and then runs so he’ll chase her so he can get in trouble and so she can smack him again. he’a still really young but he’s trying so hard to be friends with her and she’s older and has no interest in actually playing with a puppy — just bullying him. she’s the stereotype of a cat who goes ‘mwahaha’ while blaming the dog for things.

btw Nightshade’s reaction is legit to just upset zoomie or shake a toy at her and cry after she hits him.

they both got in trouble for those shenanigans btw (the running in the kitchen)

moving is incredibly taxing, mentally and physically so take care of yourself! be safe <3 remember that it’s okay and necessary to take breaks and hydrate lots! 

also just so it's known in general, things will be a bit odd even with the move finishing up because my laptop got damaged pretty badly during the move and we don't know if it's salvageable yet. so i'm using my phone and saeth's when they're not using it for writing themselves.

this is in the 'petals vs' and i hope you find it soothing because i did but if not, just let me know cause everyone finds different vibes comforting! good luck on your move! let me know how it goes? i hope it is as stress free as possible and nothing breaks!

<3 lumine

—

Magnus adds two streaks of purple to his hair and one of mauve before he holds up of a sprig of wisteria, making sure that the colors match. They do and it’s with pleasure that Magnus puts in two — magically crystallized and grown — dangling earrings created from the same flowers that Alexander is going to wear.

It’s a simple night out and Magnus is in the mood for the quiet intimacy of a long walk with his beloved. 

They don’t necessarily need to dress up for what will essentially be a trek through a hidden grove, but both of them like to indulge both each other and themselves. 

“Alexander—” Magnus calls as he finishes the last touches of his craft and when he turns, it’s to find his darling watching him with soft, adoring eyes. 

Magnus manages to last an entire half-a-second before he’s crossing the room and rubbing his palms down Alexander’s shoulders and then kissing his cheek. 

“You look better.” He finally lets himself say, drinking in the sight that is a well-rested, fully healed Alexander. A kiss is pressed to his jaw and then his mouth, lips lingering with a subtle intensity that lingers almost wistfully. 

“You too, you have enough energy for this trip, right?” He’s asked carefully and Magnus can’t help his smile.

Alexander isn’t being doubtful, he’s being earnestly sweet and Magnus lingers in the languid feeling of being cared for. The last three nights have been full of portals and magic and healing and — while Alexander hunted down the ingredients needed and sharing strength — it’s Magnus who has been expending all of his energy and energy to the very brink. 

Well, Magnus and half a dozen other warlocks but only he and Cat worked the three days continuously. 

They were the only ones who could.

“I’m fine sweetheart. All I needed was a night of rest and you, safe in my arms.”

“I still think you should have let me give you a massage last night.” Alexander murmurs with a pout and Magnus laughs, pressing his fingertips to Alexander’s mouth in a gentle kiss.

“It either would have turned into something neither of us had the energy for, or you would have fallen asleep half on top of me, darling.” Magnus can’t help how soft his tone goes, “we were both spent, Alexander. You’re the only reason Cat didn’t insist on coming home with me, normally she puts her foot down when we encounter a disease like this.” Magnus winks, “she doesn’t normally trust me not to try and immediately research how it happened. However she trusts that you’re a sufficient distraction.”

“Still—” is all Alexander says, a deep yearning in his voice, “you deserve to be taken care of. Especially with how much you take care of everyone else.”

“You’ll find I take plenty care of myself, especially when I’m given a good reason to.” Magnus gives a playful smirk because Alexander knows that he’s the reason Magnus is alluding to and his boy laughs, tender and sweet and Magnus aches with it.  

“Then I’ll need to find a way to stick around then, just to make sure.” 

Magnus’ breathe hitches with want, because they’ve slowly been talking about this and Magnus can’t deny Alexander’s sincerity anymore.  No one who goes to talk to the Council of Elders and some of the oldest members of the shadowworld — who requested and paid the costs of asking to feel some of the best and worst emotions associated with immortality — is insincere. 

Alexander means it.

His devotion is steadfast and his love unwavering, his trust all encompassing when it comes to Magnus and Magnus feels both ravenous and also hesitant. 

Yet how can he disrespect the adoration and devotion that he’s invoked by merely being himself, when Alexander is so guileless about it. When Alexander has made lists of places he wants to visit with Magnus, the greenhouses and gardens he wants to tend to himself when he’s retired, the fact that Alexander wants to retire.

That his beloved wants to leave the clave better than before, but leave it all the same. The day when he will step away from the burdens and responsibilities of his people and family and belong wholly to himself and to Magnus.

Alexander wants to learn and study and travel and love but he wants to only do it with Magnus and that is a treasure Magnus never realized he’d been taught could never be his. Yet to dismiss it would be to invalidate the love given him and well, Magnus would be both cruel and a fool to do that. 

And while sometimes in his long life, Magnus knows he’s been both — though rarely at the same time. It would take an act of befuddlement from his own father for Magnus to act foolishly or cruel with something so delicate concerning both Alexander’s and his own heart.

“I suppose we will.” Magnus murmurs and he summons the flower crown to his hands and gently places it on Alexander’s brow. He admires how the lavender and mauve petals look against Alexander’s features and then he blinks.

Wisteria means many things but the colors Alexander asked for, the type of flower that he normally lets Magnus pick… they mean things.

Devotion that can transcend even death. 

Longevity which implies immortality, though all things can die no matter how long they’ve lived.

“You’re a sly man when you want to be, Alexander.” Magnus murmurs, voice unrepentantly indulgent as Alexander smirks at him. There is a pleased turn to his lips and his eyes gleam with both relief and love and Magnus wants to disappear with him for at least a week.

There’s a cottage in the grove.

Nothing too elaborate but comfortable enough — Ragnor would never have helped maintain it otherwise — and it’s the perfect place for a simple weekend of intimacy. Magnus can teach Alexander to fish as he learned as a boy and he can watch Alexander with amusement when his darling shadowhunter shows off and shoots the fish with arrows and then dives for them. 

Apparently, it was quite a habit for Alexander to go to the ocean in the dead of night with his runes activated, unseen by mundanes as he practiced hunting by shooting fish and then diving for them. 

They can replant the small garden around the cottage and Magnus can teach and show Alexander some of the hybrids he and Cat and Ragnor have created and tended to over the centuries. 

“Sometimes, my love—” and Magnus pauses, adding another layer of protective magic to both Alexander and his crown, “I cannot understand how we came to be.”

Alexander understands him, if the sudden sheen to his eyes means anything.

They’ve both been horribly broken by life and shattered by people supposed to love them yet somehow,despite all the odds they found and have kept and fought for each other.

It’s a beautiful but daunting mystery and one Magnus never needs solved. 

After all, no matter how or why they met, it’s the two of them alone that have made this work.

#lumine writes #writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #petal verse #in his wake petals fall #magnus bane #alec lightwood #malec #shadowhunters

[ill-skillsgard]

What’s your favorite movie/show from a each of the Skarsgards?

Ouuu, well some of these might be obvious, but I'll try not to write a novel about how much I love the Skarsgards in almost everything! Let us start with the king. Our beautiful, perfect, hilarious and talented Bill... AKA the man of my dreams. AKA Horror Daddy. AKA the most gorgeous man who has or ever will exist. This is such a hard choice, but I have to credit his role as Pennywise as what introduced him to me, or rather, what got me HOOKED. Bill cemented himself in the horror genre as a God with this role. Not only that, but both chapters of the film are some of the best horror that has ever been done, period. I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for IT. Honorable mentions goes to Villains because Mickey was sooo devastatingly charming and Bill was made for the role. I'd say Castle Rock too but then I might as well list everything he has ever done both big and small because I just love him in everything, always.

Now, onto my sweet baby Valter. Historically, I have rejected anyone's negative opinions about my BEAUTIFUL BOY and will continue to do so until the day I die. Okay, he's a bit of a brat, he's not as well-known as his father or brothers, but he is my 2nd favourite Skarsgard (sometimes in my brain he is number 1.) Valter Odd Skarsgard has this voice that narrates my fantasies, and lips I dream of often. So tall, mmph. So gorgeous! That smile, oh my GOD. My underrated man.

Valter dropped a nuke on me with his role as Faust in Lords of Chaos. This movie means more to me than the fact that Valter is in it. The story itself and the period of metal music in Scandinavia has always been on my radar, and then Valter shows up as my ACTUAL type and ruins me. Do I think Faust is a good guy? No. Do I think that Valter with long black hair, a leather jacket and a bullet belt is the most attractive thing on the face of the earth? Yes. Great film, directed by the legendary Jonas Akerlund... What could be better?

Now, when it comes to Gustaf Skarsgard, I feel like I cannot choose between Merlin and Floki. Both have such chaotic energy. Both were so well-played. Then there's the short film he did with his father, directed by Bill and Landon Liboiron. HE IS A SHAPESHIFTER. So talented. So handsome. Ugh, just ridiculously gifted in the art of acting. But I have to give it to Merlin because I have never wanted to be on an alcoholic wizard before. Would I rewatch Cursed over Vikings? I don't know. Would I watch a standalone series of Merlin? YES. Would I watch a standalone series about Floki? ALSO YEAH. Tough decisions here. Ahhh, give me that silly wizard man. I want him! Cursed was great and they were wrong to cancel it!

Then of course, there's Alexander. A Golden God. As talented as he is attractive. This one is very hard because he's been in a lot of really good shows and films that I love. I wanted to pick his role in Zoolander because I think it's one of the best comedy bits I have ever seen (ORANGE MOCHA FRAPPUCINOS) but I can't do him like that. I think I would have to go with Randall Flagg in The Stand, not only because it's another Stephen King adaptation with another Skarsgard, but because he annhilated that role and looked so damn good doing it. And also BEARD (idc if it's fake, he looks great.)

Now, Papa Skars is a TOUGH one to pick, but I have to go with Dune. Idk if it's because of Stellan that his boys can play evil pricks so well, but the Baron is like next level shit. He is so talented. I went over half my life not even realizing he's been in so many movies I've watched. But in recent times, since the Skarsgards have been on my radar, Dune knocked it outtttt and Stellan was a huge part of that. Thank you Papa Skars, for helping create your beautiful sons and unleashing them upon the world.

This could have been a lot shorter but oh well. My mens deserve all the shout outs. Thanks for asking! ❤️

#bill skarsgård #valter skarsgård #gustaf skarsgård #alexander skarsgård #stellan skarsgard #it chapter one #it chapter two #lords of chaos #cursed #vikings #the stand #randall flagg #dune #The Baron

[knowltonsrangers]

hair headcanons

Various TURN! X reader

how good or bad are our boys at braiding and styling hair, and would they ever let you have a go at theirs?

For having a few sisters, Nathan Hale is average at the subject. He can do a basic braid, and definitely knows how to tie a ponytail, but anything else…he’s consulting a book or tutorial. He enjoys running his fingers through your hair, gently prying away any knots they may have come your way. and of course you can brush his hair, he actually really likes it when you do so. give him a few baby braids to frame his face and he’ll leave them there for a day or two.

Benjamin Tallmadge has no idea what you’re asking of him. He can do a very basic braid on his own hair, but good luck getting him to even attempt it on you without having a bunch of knots. he likes to comb your hair after a shower, you never ask him to, but he always finds you to do it. Ben likes to think even though it’s typically a moment of silence, it’s full of so much love. He’d never ask you to brush his hair, but sometimes you surprise him rounding a corner with his brush, and he’ll never object.

I’d like to think Caleb Brewster sometimes goes a bit without brushing his hair, and when he finally remembers after a few days, you’re chasing him with a comb to try and get it before it’s too late. It’s not that he’s unhygienic he’s just…Caleb. He probably runs his fingers through it in the shower and calls that a comb. Yet he LOVES to brush and braid your hair, he likes it in the morning when it has that soft wave to it. He’s actually pretty good at it, they’re tight and they don’t need to be redone after a little while.

Yeah…no. George Washington has no idea how to do anything that’s even remotely close to a braid, but, some of his favorite moments is when you offer to brush out the knots that have made their way into his ponytail throughout the day. He, in turn, will return the favor. He’s not vain, of course you can touch his hair, he’ll probably grumble about his grey it is, but you just wave him off. You know that if you don’t do this, he will defy neglect the act if drowned in work

Marquis de Lafayette definitely can braid, and damn I definitely think he’s the best at it. Plaits, Dutch, French, he’s very good at them, and he can do them pretty fast. Like Nathan, he enjoys running his fingers through your hair, it’s a symbol of affection, especially if he does it subconsciously sometimes. If you are ever just sitting next to him with your hair down, he’s all over you and you can’t help but bob your head yes. You don’t even have to ask to play with his hair, so he says, but you always do, and you are always surprised by just how soft it is. He likes it when you braid his ponytail, he’ll definitely leave it in as long as he can.

Ensign Thomas Baker knows next to nothing. he definitely knows how to put his own hair up, and he probably could replicate it if you needed an extra pair of hands to put yours in a ponytail, but that’s about it. He’d love it if you taught him how to braid, he thinks it looks so pretty, especially on you. sure, you can do his hair! he’d probably take anything out (barrettes or clips) before he left, but if you braid his hair, he’d definitely going to leave it in! And if you try and take it out, saying it looks bad or you missed a strand, he’ll likely run away from you so you don’t stand a chance of touching it. He loves it.

The grumpiest of all, Alexander Hamilton, will definitely not partake in any of your styling, so he says. it’s cause he’s a busy, or he doesn’t want to, or whatever nonsense he’s come up with for the day. So instead, you walk up behind his desk and take his hair band out, and just as he spins to glower at you, you’re brushing his red locks and he can’t help but melt at the touch. In rarer moments of affection, he will definitely comb your hair out after a bath, or if you are unwell. He’s an emotionally constipated gremlin, just kiss his cheek and tell him to relax. he’s really bad at braids though, don’t expect that of him-your hair will be in knots before very long.

[a/n: took a short break today and decided to work on some headcanons :) ]

#sul writes #turn amc #turn washington's spies #nathan hale #benjamin tallmadge #caleb brewster #george washington #marquis de lafayette #ensign baker #alexander hamilton

[colleyuriko]

Tanz der Vampire, Hamburg, 21.12.23, 19:30

Graf von Krolock - Rob Fowler

Professor Abronsius - Till Jochheim

Alfred - Vincent Van Gorp

Chagal - Oleg Krasovitskii

Herbert - Jonas Steppe

Koukol - Alexander Ruttig

Sarah - Sandra Bitterli

Magda - Anja Backus

Rebecca - Carina Nopp

Tanzsolisten: Paolo Valenti / Andrea Giola / Kezia Coulson

Gesangssolisten: Lorenzo Di Girolamo / Simon Loughton

Ensemble: Jessie Vos, Frederik Stuhllemmer, Keny Oslen, Ian Vrolijk, Artem Salastelnyk, Demi Hubers, Nicole Klünsner, Rachel Bahler, Anne Hoth, Carina Fitzi, Chloe Lee Hill, Alice Giammerioli, Ginevra Serra Cassano

Orchester: Stage Operettenhaus, Dirigent: Martin Gallery

I had such a good time. I'm dumping my thoughts behind the readmore.

Everyone was fantastic, I was really curious to hear Rob Fowler as the new von Krolock and Anja Backus as Magda live especially.

The stage in Hamburg appeared a bit narrow compared to what I've seen online from other shows, I was a bit nervous with all the capes flying around during Rote Stiefel. During Einladung zum Ball Krolock's cape caught on the door to Alfred and Abronsius' room, but it was a quick fix with a tug lol.

I was actually really amazed Sarah took Krolock's hand towards the end of Einladung zum Ball and started to rise out of the bath. And during Totale Finsternis she went in for a kiss (that didn't happen) but holy shit, this Sarah was on it.

I really enjoyed Alfred, but it only just hit me how jarring it is to have Für Sarah right before Die Gruft. One song is about how brave he'll be, but the other how he's scared. Sure you can play it off as funny and ironic, but it tripped me up a bit this time round. It was so charming to hear Für Sarah live. And bless Vincent Van Gorp for having to crawl back on stage again during Tanzsaal to grab Abronsius' helmet he needs for the quick change.

I was trying to keep my eyes on 5 different characters during Tanzsaal, I think I missed Herbert doing something to the Vampire in the blue wig's sleeves. >.< I enjoyed this Herbert. I was a bit nervous because my mother was with me and I don't quite know her opinions, but imo this Herbert was not as giggly as some I had seen in recordings and so Wenn Liebe In Dir Ist seemed less as a joke. I know we as a fandom love Herbert and you may have a different opinion, but the whole 'make the bite attempt look like SA' as the punchline of the scene and whatever Chagal and Magda have going on are the things I warn people about when I recommend the musical.

I also liked this less screechy Abronsius. I thought the sound system could have done his fast songs more justice and it's a shame that this version of the musical doesn't have Abronsius call for Alfred at the very end any more. I love the Finale, but it kicked in so suddenly I missed some of the callback to the beginning of the musical and the tragedy of it a bit.

My mother had clocked that Sarah's family was Jewish with the Menorah during Das Gebet but she asked me if it was a recent addition. I was glad I had looked into it once. As far as I understand it, Roman Polanski (who is Jewish, that's the only thing I am focusing on here) had written 'Fearless Vampire Killers' to get back at Vampire Stories being based on antisemitic stereotypes. The Satire being that Chagal was actually Jewish this time. You want a Jewish Vampire? You're getting one, that kind of attitude. I read that the film was even supposed to have a scene in it where Chagal couldn't have his coffin in the graveyard with the other vampires because he was Jewish. Even as a Vampire he would still face antisemitism, to hold a mirror up to the vampire genre, but this was deemed too controversial by the the editors or someone and it was cut out of the film (which I have never watched, btw. Didn't really want to give Polanski more of my time than I had to, because of the Reasons). So my theory is that Magda and Chagal get pushed into the crypt in a wooden box as an allusion to this cut scene. But yes, in short, the Chagal family have always been Jewish. Whether or not Tanz der Vampire succeeds in being satirical or not I cannot judge for sure. (I had the compulsion to look all of this up because Chagal singing about it's totally OK sucking other people's blood worried me... I wanted to know what place this was coming from)

I was happy that Magda and Chagal got to sing some of the "Was ist dabei..." at the end if Geil Zu Sein ist Komisch outside of the coffin as well. It gave the performers a bit more time visible on stage.

One thing I thought was a bit of a shame was that the mirrors for Wenn Liebe in Dir Ist were rather narrow and in parts obscured by a column so that it was really hard to notice the dance double playing the reflection. We were also sat right in the middle of a row looking straight ahead to the stage. I don't think my mother noticed the dance doubles in Tanzsaal, either. I knew to look out for them, but it wasn't easy to see from the middle.

Sitting right at the back we also got the full blast of the flash lighting that happened during Einladung zum Ball, Carpe Noctem, and the second Finale. It was really unpleasant. If you are light sensitive, I'm afraid this would ruin your visit to the show. I don't know how it is in other areas of seating, but it's worth asking about if you ever do want to see it and are photosensitive in any way.

I had briefed my mother beforehand that the melody she was going to hear was Total Eclipse of the Heart because I didn't want her to be thinking and wondering where she had heard it before and be distracted from taking in the show or nudging me to say what the song is.

EDIT: I just remembered, the switch from Sarah to dance double Sarah in Rote Stiefel in this Hamburg production is a magic trick. All of a sudden there were two Sarahs and I don't even know where she came from. Super cool.

I think I mentioned everything I wanted to dump down soon after seeing it.

Oh wait, I am so glad I got to see Carpe Noctem live. Black Vampire my beloved. Grateful the dancers seem to be able to freestyle to some degree. Andrea Giola didn't do that jump where Black Vampire does the splits in mid air, and I'm grateful because otherwise my mother might have brought up when I used to do gymnastics XD

Made a shirt for going, btw. Didn't quite finish, but it was wearable ^^;;

Actually, I'm just going to add this thought here too while I'm at it: I'm just so enamoured by the fact that not all performers in a musical are native speakers and will learn the songs for their role in a language that is not necessarily known to them. When I was little, I was told if I want to do anything with languages I should become a translator and my mother kept talking about politics, being an ambassador, etc. But even now I never felt that kind of job is me. I'm not saying a musical performer's job is easy, it's very demanding and takes incredible dedication, but I'm a bit sad no one ever highlighted the language aspect to me. When Drew Sarich mentions in interviews he was sent to Germany with nothing but a lead role and a language coach and now I feel like his German sounds cleaner than mine, or Ivan Ozoghin says he only had two weeks to learn the German versions for Krolock, I'm still so impressed even though I will also learn Japanese songs I like by heart like the little weeb I am. What I am trying to say is: the arts also have space and reasons to learn another language, the musical industry is more international than I had ever thought it was, and there is more to "I want to do something with languages when I grow up" than being corporate. I now have a 9-5 office job that has nothing to do with languages, but sometimes I do wonder what turns my life could have had if my parents didn't have this vision of me in a business suit.

#tanz der vampire #Musicals #Actual blogging lol

[mrschwartz]

pls continue on slippery territory because ✨your mind✨ as you say, we don't Know him but. i'd put my money on he's self aware but can only look at it from his periphery, otherwise it is Too much. and there are bits of it in his writing, goes along with his rep for ~vagueness, which is why i'm surprised by the new record because (1/2)

(2/2) the lyrics are vague but there's something about the sound - that feeling of there being something there, a depth. a might be projecting but lmao will never forget how melancholic mirrorball made me feel. that's why i think he Knows, it's just he can only acknowledge it in this sort of way and the other guys don't have that issue

OH! also can't stop thinking about him saying he wouldn't do this on his own, lmao. goes hand in hand with the whole drawn to solitude but needing other people thing, but obviously everyone else has got Lives, alexander!!!

oh man, i'm right with you on that, the whole album is deeply sad. like, i'm doing what he told me to do! i'm listening to the music and not just the lyrics, and they're telling me that the person who composed it has been going through some shit lol. he also emphasizes that there's a sense of humor to a lot of it, which i understand i guess, but. um. idk. it's either 1) he's not very good at translating jokey tones into melodies and harmonies (which i refuse, he's too good at capturing and conveying emotion and cares too much about music to not understand tone) or 2) he's got a very warped sense of humor/is not as self-aware as i thought (like i said) lol. like one of those friends everyone has that light-heartedly shares something that sounds deeply traumatic and has you like. "but are you like. okay though" or 3) he knows it's mostly sad but is playing it off bc fuck interviews, fuck people actually knowing what he wants to mean, etc etc.

anyway. fuck him, he set out to make me feel things with the sound of his music and the bastard fucking accomplished it lol.

but to your second point. like, it feels shitty to think this of him and that's why i didn't wanna say "resentment" bc it's obviously not it, there's too much unconditional love and understanding between them, but i can't help but feel that if it was up to him, to some extent, none of them would be off raising families, they'd just hang out together all the time and just talk and have fun and play music

he's introverted and craves isolation, yes, but he's also needy and fucking needs the band's support so much, he kinda gets a little lost when he doesn't have it for a long period of time. he could write a solo album and play all of the instruments but it's not just that he values their input and it's more fun when they're around. he needs them to not have all of the spotlight on him. and when most of the spotlight is on him, which let's be honest here we're all adults lol, it's 99% of the time, he has this safe haven with them to feel like he's sharing the experience, to joke about the whole thing, to have someone to vent to, etc. this next bit is extremely shitty, i know i knowwwwwwwww, but: like, alex turner's support group you know. like (let me try to redeem myself here), they're all each other's support group, for sure, but i feel like he needs it the most

#as always. does this make any sense at all? mvjnfjvng #i always would ramble for fifty paragraphs more to explain myself better and i always restrain myself #ask #anonymous #alex turner #he could write and play a solo album for sure. could he tour and promote it solo? nfjdjmfjvnjsmjdnjf lmao he'd Crack. #instantly cuckoo. more than he already is

[readerinsertsaremyguiltypleasure]

Hi, I am fascinated by your writing, may I give you an idea? Imagine that the story is after Alexander's death and Alexander and Luda meet again...

Hi! I'm glad you are enjoying my writing. I'm not actually accepting prompts outside of prompt games anymore, but you caught me at a quiet time and I managed to bang this one out today in between doing housework. It's a bit different than this blog's usual MO, as it's not a reader fic, but I hope you like it. 💕

--------

Aleksander blinked rapidly, the sudden dark surprising him after the bright sunlight of only a moment ago. The last thing he remembered was Alina standing above him, wearing the sun as a halo, and now he was suddenly standing in an inky void. What in Ravka had happened to him?

The answer came in a sudden rush as he remembered Alina’s blade piercing his skin. His Sun Summoner had killed him, banishing him to this place of darkness.

How very poetic.

Aleksander looked around and squinted, trying to make shapes out of the shadows. But there was nothing. Only him. Was this really the afterlife? Weren’t there supposed to be Saints greeting him, if only to condemn him to an eternity of torture?

‘Hello?’ he called out, his voice echoing around him.

For a moment, nothing happened, and Aleksander started to think that this was it, that he would be truly alone for the rest of eternity… but then he heard footsteps. He wasn’t alone. The footsteps echoed through the darkness, steadily getting closer, until he could finally see a figure approaching. At first, they were nothing but a blur, but then, slowly, their features got clearer.

If Aleksander hadn’t had centuries of mastering his self-control, he would have gasped. ‘Luda?’ he asked, eyes raking over her. She looked just as she had the last time he saw her, though thankfully without the blood. She still wore the same clothes and still had the same kindness in her eyes.

She placed a gentle hand on the side of his face, and Aleksander couldn’t help but lean into her touch. Luda was the first woman he had ever truly loved, and when he closed his eyes, it was almost like the last few centuries had never happened. He still felt the same warmth, the same safety, the same urge to protect that they both had shared.

He still felt the same love.

‘Aleksander,’ she whispered as she brushed her thumb over one of his scars. ‘What have you become?’

He opened his eyes but didn’t step away. How could he?

Wanting truly did make one weak.

‘What I had to become,’ he said. ‘To help our people.’

Luda smiled sadly. ‘And did you?’

A thousand memories played through Aleksander’s head. Grisha, safe and happy in the Little Palace; those same Grisha dying bloody on the battlefield; Genya, caged and frightened as she awaited execution for someone else’s sins; Alina, bathed in sunlight where there used to be only darkness – his darkness.

‘I don’t know.’

It was an honest answer, but for the sake of his sanity, he had to believe that he had helped, even if only as a catalyst. He had to believe that Alina would continue his plans in her own way, and maybe she would even succeed without being twisted by anger and revenge.

He looked down at Luda. The memory of her death had been a driving force for him for so long… would Alina suffer the same fate after the death of her tracker? If she did, he had least given her something to aid her in her fight. Aleksander Morozova may have died, but the Darkling would always live on in some form or another.

Luda lowered her hand, but Aleksander quickly gripped it in his own. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, words earnest and a little desperate. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.’

Luda squeezed his fingers comfortingly. ‘My death was not your doing. But I forgive you.’

Peace washed over him at her words – the kind he hadn’t felt since the night Alina had kissed him in his rooms. ‘What happens now?’ he asked. Luda was no Saint, but he couldn’t have asked for a better guide to the next stage of his existence… or to the end of it. Whatever happened next, he was ready for it.

Luda smiled softly and used their joined hands to pull him further into the darkness – further into the unknown.

‘Now, we go.’

-------------------------

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48032854

#the darkling #the darkling x luda #darkling prompts

[silastheanon]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AXIS!!!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!!! IM SO HAPPY I GET TO BE YOUR FRIEND @professionallydeadinside

HERES YOUR BIRTHDAY GIFT!!!!

Three children, once loved and meant to live, cursed to die by something cursed in his own existence.

The eldest, named Evelyn, tormented in pain. The twins, Alexander and Alexandra, one dead and one cursed.

Three children, now one.

____________________

I’ve been in my room for a long time, now. I’ve read almost all my books, and there isn’t much to write about. I can see birds from my window, though.

They sing pretty. I like the sounds they make. There’s an owl that comes by too, sometimes. I looked in my books, and one of them describes owl breeds! I got super lucky with that. I think it’s a saw-whet owl! They usually don’t come this far East. It’s very pretty, and its hoot sounds like a saw.

That’s why it’s called a saw-whet owl. I think that’s really cool.

____________________

I miss my brother and sister. I miss my mom and dad.

I’m sick of this fever.

____________________

What does a jackfruit taste like? I just read about it, I’ve started reading cookbooks now that I don’t have much else to do, and I wonder what it tastes like? Does it taste like a ‘jack’? What does a jack taste like?

Or, was it discovered by someone named Jack? Is Jack proud to have a fruit named after him.

I’d be proud if there was a fruit named after me. Something like Alexandrafruit. Yeah, that’d be cool.

First, I just have to get out of this room.

____________________

Do dogs talk to each other? Do they talk to cats? I want a dog. Or a cat. Or a rat.

Or a friend.

____________________

I wonder how Evelyn and Alexander are doing. I hope they’re happy.

I bet they’re running through fields and dancing and laughing. I bet they go out every night onto the roof and see the stars. Maybe they’ve tasted a jackfruit! They swim in rivers, too! They get sunburns and play in the snow. They’ve been hit by snowballs and have fallen down and have played sports.

I’m glad. They’re happy, so I’m happy!

____________________

I’ve decided to name the saw-whet owl. I can’t tell if it’s a boy or a girl, so I’m going to call it Briar, like the plant. I wish I could leave food out for it.

Maybe I’ll ask the servants to bring me some extra.

____________________

There’s something at the foot of my bed.

It doesn’t move, doesn’t do much, it just stands there. I can’t tell if he’s real.

____________________

Owls have meaning. They mean insight, wisdom, and something else, but the book is too faded there for me to read. I hope it’s happiness.

____________________

Do other kids hurt? Does their skin feel like sandpaper? Do their throats never stop aching? Are they ever comfortable, not fighting between freezing and burning? Can they rest easy?

Do they suffer, too?

____________________

The servants won’t bring me any extra food. They say I shouldn’t waste it on owls, that there isn’t enough to waste.

Yet, I see more and more soldiers out in the square every day.

____________________

The thing at the foot of the bed. He’s back, but not at the bed.

He’s in the closet, now. I can see his eyes. They glow green.

He doesn’t talk. He just watches me. He doesn’t move. He just watches.

That’s all he does.

Watches.

____________________

I can’t remember Mama’s voice.

____________________

What did Alexander look like?

____________________

Who is Evelyn?

____________________

Does the sun get lonely? It’s up in the sky all day, and there isn’t anything else up there. The moon has the stars, so it isn’t lonely, but does the sun get sad and lonely?

I guess it has the clouds, though. Maybe when they cover the sun, they’re actually hugging the sun.

That makes me happy. I’m glad the sun has friends.

____________________

He doesn’t stay in one spot, when he comes to me.

Sometimes, he’s back at the foot of the bed. Sometimes, he’s in the closet, and all I can see are his eyes, watching me. Other times, he’s in the corner of the room.

Some nights, he leans over me. I don’t think he breathes.

____________________

Briar’s visiting me more often, now. I don’t know why, but I’m happy.

I wish others would visit me, too.

____________________

I’m hot, I’m burning, I am aflame. I am nothing but pain, little but the rash that consumes me, barely more than an aching throat and rough skin and burning, burning, burning heat.

He is above me, simply watching me scream.

____________________

Briar has begun pecking at the window. There are other birds with it, too. Black birds, big and mighty, and I can just see roosters below on the square, but they only ever call at night. Maybe they call for the rats and bats that come out at night. They need woken up, too.

There was even a sparrow.

____________________

He’s started talking to me.

I can’t understand him, but I can hear him. He whispers.

He whispers.

____________________

My bed is uncomfortable. My feet hurt. My back aches.

I want to run. I want to jump.

I want to die.

____________________

He whispers. He stands closer to me, now.

Some nights, he reaches out. He’ll stroke my hand, or my forehead, or just rest a hand on my chest.

It stops burning when he does that. His touch soothes the fever, soothes the rash. He doesn’t recoil from the feel of sandpaper skin.

I am grateful for that.

____________________

There are more swallows. They just sit and watch me. They’re pretty.

Briar is prettier.

____________________

If he were to hug me, would all of me be soothed? Would I be healed?

____________________

The window lock is old. If I were to open it, I could let Briar in.

I could go through it. I could finally jump, like other kids do.

____________________

I asked him what his name was. He didn’t answer me. He just held his hand to my forehead.

It was nice.

____________________

The doctors say I’m getting better. They don’t listen when I say the fever burns stronger, that it melts skin from my bone. They don’t listen when I say my skin is rougher than brick, that my throat is raw and bleeding even though I can’t see it.

They don’t listen.

____________________

Galante.

His name is Galante.

____________________

The sparrows left. The mighty black birds left. None of the birds return, except for Briar.

I wonder what that means.

____________________

I can hear him better, now. He doesn’t whisper as quietly anymore. Galante tells me he knows how to help me, but I must wait until he can tell me. He says it will only work when the fever is low enough.

I hope it goes down enough for him to help me.

____________________

Briar’s gone. They’ve been gone for a while, longer than before. I don’t think they’ll be coming back.

____________________

I’m going to die.

____________________

Did Alexander have dark hair? Did he have long hair? Did he look like Mama?

I can’t remember.

____________________

The burning, the burning, the blistering pain. It’s going to kill me. The writhing, it doesn’t help, nothing helps. Screaming only rips my throat, only makes my lungs burn as bad as my flesh. My stone flesh, my flesh of sandpaper, of bricks and rough things.

I am going to die.

There are birds at the window, again. Briar and the sparrows and the mighty black birds. They’re beating against the window, cawing screams that never stop. Or are those my own?

Galante is there. He is watching me. He is breathing in. I’ve never seen him breathe before.

He is speaking.

____________________

Galante made me an offer. I will live, but I must go to my brother.

I’ve forgotten what he looks like, what he sounds like.

Alexander looks peaceful in sleep. He doesn’t suffer, doesn’t know burning pain, stone skin, rotting throat like I do. He is peaceful.

I am next to him.

We are both peaceful.

____________________

The birds are gone, for forever. They have no more to do.

They have no soul to take.

____________________

My body is ash, but I remain. I am in his body, his mind no more, only mine. Galante tells me what to do.

He tells me to take the dust of Alexandra and take it to Evelyn, my eldest sister. I did not remember that. I did not know there were more than Alexander. Galante says she’s my sister, so I believe him.

I put the ashes, the dust of my pain and my brick flesh, in her fireplace. I scream, and she is taken away.

She killed Alexandra in a fit of rage, and burned her.

No one asks how she got in the room, or why there wasn’t any fight.

____________________

Evelyn is gone, my flesh burnt and dust, and Alexander’s body is all that remains, my mind inside it. I am excited to live, to run and dance and shout.

It was not to be.

____________________

He is a liar. Galante is a liar.

I am not in control.

He commands me.

____________________

My parents are gone.

They are sick in a way worse than I was. Galante killed them, made them sick with dead water and food.

I am all that’s left.

____________________

There is a prince in a kingdom far off, who kills those he loves. Or, he kills those that love him.

Are his sins worse than mine? Or mine worse than his?

Or are we the same?

____________________

Galante is making the world burn, through my body, It is ablaze, aflame, burning worse than my fever, burning worse than my flesh, than my throat.

He is destroying the world, and I cannot do anything but watch, and plead, a little voice in a dead mind.

____________________

There were three children.

Three children, once loved and cherished, now cursed to die by one cursed himself.

The eldest, Evelyn, shipped away and dead at her own hand. The twins, Alexander and Alexandra, never to part again.

Three children.

Now one.