#Alarik

[bookish-rival]

BURNING CROWNS SPOILERS under the cut!! 🔥🔥🔥

"For what it's worth, Wren, you were never broken to me." ~ Alarik Felsing

《《《《《♡》》》》》

He came to her side, resting his head on his elbows until they were both slumped over the side of the pool, looking at each other. Alarik took a deep breath, and Wren did the same. In and out, in and out, until they fell into sync with each other.

He reached over, peeling a strip of wet hair from her eyes.

"How do you feel now?"

Gingerly, Wren lifted her head. "A little better."

~ BURNING CROWNS

《《《《《♡》》》》》

▪︎ art by the amazing & lovely @lamonyo ❤️

▪︎ commissioned by me

▪︎ Characters: Queen Wren Greenrock & King Alarik Felsing belong to Catherine Doyle and Katherine Webber.

》 Please DO NOT repost! 《

~☆~

🖌️ This artwork is a beautiful fusion of two of my favorite scenes from CURSED CROWNS & BURNING CROWNS, ingeniously intertwined to create a mesmerizing parallel narrative.

It's truly amazing how art can encapsulate the magic of storytelling, and I'm beyond thrilled to share this masterpiece with all of you.

❄️This illustration shows two scenes of King Alarik comforting Wren when she most needed it.

As enemies or allies bonded by a deadly curse, these two have been through a lot together and witnessing their unique friendship and bond form was an incredible adventure!

~♡~

✨Here's to the authors who craft worlds worth getting lost in, and to the fans who keep the magic alive✨

———————

♡ This artwork is to celebrate the final book & the characters featured, so please keep comments respectful, thank you! 

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A post shared by Emelie (@bookish_rival)

[frozenprocedural]

Lavender Haze

Or "Alarik finds out just how much Elsa likes his lavender smell".

Set in my Beekeeper AU. Alarik belongs to @patricia-von-arundel.

INCREDIBLY 'E' UNDER THE CUT.

Lavender Haze

Rating: E

Alarik pulls to a stop in front of the little cabin, admiring the way the sunset colors play across its windows. Beside him, Elsa stirs, letting out a sleepy “hmm?”

“We're here, darling. What do you think?” 

“Oh! How beautiful!”

Alarik grins, enjoying the wide-eyed look of wonder on his wife's face. They'd seen pictures online, of course, but it was nothing compared to the sight in front of them. The cabin- just large enough for the two of them- nestles among neat rows of blooming lavender plants, its wooden walls nearly glowing in the setting sun. The scent of lavender wafts on the breeze- a perfect spot for a weekend away. 

“Let's get our things inside. We should have enough time to walk through the lavender. Good thing we got dinner before getting here!”

It's as they're finishing unpacking when Alarik first notices Elsa's restlessness. She seems distracted, her movements a bit jerky. He chalks it up to the long drive, and hopes the evening walk will help her calm down. 

He offers his arm as they step onto the porch, and after a hesitation so brief he nearly misses it, Elsa takes it. They stroll up the first row or lavender, with him doing most of the talking- whatever comes to mind. Elsa keeps a hold of his arm, but her body is stiff, and eventually he can ignore it no longer. He stops mid-row, and she starts.

“Elsa, is something wrong? You seem… off.”

She avoids his gaze, and just when he thinks she'll try to brush off his question, she answers, her voice strained. 

“The… lavender.”

“The lavender?”

She looks at him then, and he's shocked to see how dilated her pupils are, and how flushed her face is. When she speaks again, a desperate note trembles in her voice. 

“The lavender. It smells like… like you.”

“Oh? Oh.”

He stumbles when she throws herself against him, caught off guard. He grabs her hips as she winds her arms around his neck, pulling him down so she can catch his lips in a searing kiss. She sucks on his bottom lip, her moan vibrating against his mouth, and he shudders. 

She pulls away, just enough so she can speak, her lips tickling his. “I need you.”

Some feral noise escapes his throat, and before he's even aware he's done so, Elsa is in his arms as he takes long strides back to the cabin. She doesn't protest, instead, she clings tighter to him, pressing her face into the crook of his neck. He can feel her rapid breathing, matching his own. 

He fumbles at the door, unwilling to put her down, and manages to get it open, using his foot to nudge it shut once they're through. Only then does he ease Elsa to the floor, anticipating her needy lunge this time. Their lips meet, and he runs his tongue across hers until she parts them, then plunges into her mouth, running it along her own tongue. Elsa finds the hem of his t-shirt, tugging it up until he breaks away to deal with it. 

By the time he's tossed his shirt to one side, she's already shrugged out of her dress and is working on his shorts, her fingers struggling briefly with the button. He takes advantage of her momentary distraction to find the clasp of her bra, pulling it away and groaning at the sight of her bare breasts. 

Elsa shakes her arms free of the bra, momentarily obscuring his view before she returns to attacking the button, letting out a sharp grunt when it opens. She wastes no time in pulling them down, taking his boxers with them. When he reaches for her underwear, she takes his cock in hand, stroking along the length, making him groan again. 

“Slow down, darling. I haven't had a chance to touch you yet.” 

Her hand slips off when he pulls her underwear the rest of the way down, but as soon as he's upright, it returns. 

That won't do. 

He takes her wrists, collecting them into one hand, and before he's even aware that he's done so, Alarik pins them against the wall, above her head. Elsa gasps, staring at him with wide eyes, but just as he's starting to loosen his grip, she tips her head back to look at her trapped wrists and moans. 

He leans closer. “Wait, you liked that?”

Elsa nods and whimpers, her eyes fluttering shut. 

“Don't let go. Please.”

Alarik uses his free hand to brush over her nipple, watching her arch into his touch. A pinch has her gasping. 

“All this because of the lavender?”

Another nod. “I think of you every time I smell it.” She opens her eyes, and despite the flush that creeps across her face, he can see the desire in them. “Especially our wedding night. And… other nights.” 

A strangled curse escapes him, and he leans forward to kiss her, hard, catching her lower lip in his teeth and tugging on it. She moans and presses against him as his free hand finds her other breast, tweaking the nipple. He's rougher than he normally is, but Elsa leans into it, her moaning growing in volume. The sunset illuminates her body in a soft glow, and he hums at the sight. 

“God, you're gorgeous.” 

She shudders, and he gives her nipple one last pinch before lazily sliding his hand down her torso. “So beautiful. Just look at you.”

He reaches her patch of curls, and she lifts one leg, granting him access. He debates teasing her for a bit longer, but even he has his limits, and the desire to feel her warmth wins over. He cups her center and hisses- she's dripping.

Elsa bucks her hips, grinding against the heel of his hand, and he has to bury his head in her neck, inhaling her scent to control himself as her arousal coats his palm. He slips two fingers into her, shuddering at the way her walls grip at them. 

“That's it. Let me take care of you.” His voice takes on a low, husky tone. “You feel so good, so wet.” 

He begins a slow, easy pace, using his thumb to circle her clit, his other fingers searching for the rough patch inside her. When he finds it, he increases his pace, making sure he rubs the spot with each thrust of his fingers. 

Elsa's hips buck against his fingers, while her trapped wrists twist against his hands. Her eyes squeeze shut as she voices a series of soft, breathy “oh!”s. The wet sound his fingers make driving in and out of her makes the whole scene that much more erotic, and Alarik has to force several deep breaths. He's almost painfully hard, the tip of his cock leaking. But he keeps himself in check, focusing on murmuring praise into her ear and nuzzling her neck. 

Her pleasure always comes first. 

His efforts are paying off- he can feel the beginning flutters of her walls against his fingers, hears her voice grow higher and louder in pitch. He's less trapping her wrists as he is holding her now. He pulls back from where he'd been teasing the spot behind her ear, his eyes on her face. 

“Let me see you.”

Her head falls back, body taught, as she screams his name. His fingers are clenched in a pulsing heat, his hand soaked in her release. He draws it out, coaxing a smaller orgasm on the heels of the first, before easing her arms down around his neck and slowly withdrawing his fingers. Even that is enough to make her shudder against him.

“Are you alright? I didn't hurt you, did I?” He pulls back, taking her hands off his neck and examining them closely. The skin of her wrists appears redder than the rest of her arms, but not terribly so. 

“You didn't, I promise. I wanted it, Alarik.” She lifts his hand- the one still coated in her arousal- a heated look on her face, one eyebrow raised. “Couldn't you tell?”

He lifts his own eyebrow in return, bringing his fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean, one at a time, maintaining eye contact as he does so. If Elsa wants to tease, he can give as good as he gets.

“Would you like me to clean you up as well?” He runs his tongue along his lips to catch the last lingering taste of her. 

Elsa's jaw tightens, and she surges forward, pressing against him, hands tangling in his hair as she pulls him into a bruising kiss. 

“No. I want you to take me. Hard.”

Alarik backs her into the wall, her words igniting an inferno within him. It's his turn to kiss hard, pulling on her lower lip, a rumble low in his chest. Her fingers dig into his back, as she grinds against his erection, coating it in her arousal. His body screams for him to drive into her, but he forces himself pause, taking her chin in his hand. 

“Elsa… I need to know… are you certain?”

Elsa breathing remains harsh, but her eyes soften, and she nods. “Yes. If it's too much, I'll tell you. Or…” She takes another panting breath, her hands squeezing his shoulder. “I'll tap your shoulder three times.”

Another shuddering breath, and her pupils dilate again, her expression returning to the needy one of earlier. “But I don't want you to stop. I want you to fuck me.”

Alarik's remaining resistance shattered.

With a growl, his hands drop to her ass, lifting her, and she wraps her legs around him. The adrenaline coursing through his system makes it feel as if she weighs nothing. He lines his cock up to her entrance and drives himself to the hilt, pausing momentarily when he feels her back hit the wall, worried again that he's hurting her. 

“Don't stop!” 

Her words come out as a desperate wail, and then her teeth sink into the junction of his neck and shoulder. 

Alarik yells- there is a sting, but the pleasure it brings is far greater. He's surprised to find out just how much he wants it. He sets a rapid pace, submitting to Elsa's command. 

Elsa digs her fingers and heels into his back, trying to draw him even closer while begging him to “keep going, just like that”. Alarik allows himself to give into his urges, pinning her to the wall so she remains flush against him, unable to move in counter to his thrusts. 

But he can move. 

He shifts his grip, angling himself so he presses deeper. Elsa screams her delight as he rams into her, his abdomen rubbing against her clit each time. Her nails rake along his back, and he digs deep for the last of his resolve, refusing to come before she does. 

“So close, Alarik, I'm so close!”

He grunts, beyond words himself, and somehow manages to go a bit faster, a bit deeper, and it's enough to push her over the edge. Elsa's head falls back as she wails his name. Her walls contract around his cock, and his voice joins hers as he spills deep inside her. 

Alarik eases Elsa's legs back onto the ground, then wraps his arms around her, nuzzling the top of her head as they work to settle their breathing. His hands run along her back, as much a soothing gesture as it is to feel for any injuries. His anxiety returns- what if he hurt her? He'd been so selfish with his own needs, so rough…

Elsa pulls away and takes his face in her hands, stroking his cheeks. “Alarik. I'm perfectly fine. I wanted it that hard. And I know you would have stopped if I needed you to. I know I can trust you.”

She pulls his face down, pressing her forehead to his. “I loved it. Every second. You made me feel so good. Thank you.”  Her eyes shift to look at the bruise forming where she'd bitten him, and her face flushes. “I am so sorry about that.”

“Don't be, please. I actually really liked it.”

Elsa plays her fingers over the mark, and he can't keep from shivering a bit. “I'll have to keep that in mind.” 

They stay in their embrace for a bit longer, until Elsa suggests they clean up and go to bed. 

“Tomorrow morning, you'll just have to take care of me again.” She whispers as he helps her to the room.

Alarik smiles, already anticipating it. 

[akatiuspielinki]

Happy aromantic week!

I decided to draw my all (current) aromantic OCs, so on the left: Lumiana, Harma Eina, Akatius, Nelli and Alarik.

[chizubae]

Idk why but I thought that twin crowns is a duology. So I immediately devoured the books when my Waterstones edition came in only to realize that there is a THIRD??🥲

ARGHHHHH!! I'm definitely questioning myself LIKE why DO I put myself in the position to painfully wait for all the third books like ACFTL😭😭😭

ANYWAYS I CALL DIBS ON ALARIK. HE'S MINE😍✨🥰

[shrowdly]

freeeeak

[k4i-ztimz]

🎪🎡🎪

🎡🎠🎡

🎪🎡🎪

Ehren Alarik stimboard!

Ehren is a character from my series “decaying desires”. Hes my newest oc and i already love them, such a silly little guy!! I wanna give him a lollipop and one of those propeller hats :33

[reyreadersblog]

THE FUCKING SCREAM THAT I LET OUT

[nymph-of-water]

Listen here, you arrogant, unresponsive ass, if you don’t give me back my grandmother, I swear to that stupid bear you worship that I’ll sail over there and smash every one of your teeth into your skull. Don’t test me. I’m a witch, remember?

Wren

~~~

Wren,

Come and say that to my face. I dare you.

Alarik

~~~

GuYs iT's tHe HOT FRICKING ENEMY AND OH MY GOODNESS IT'S THE HOT ENEMY

[rosietrace]

「 Three Roses 」

⊱────────────────────⊰

Central Character(s) ; 『 Maria Alarik, “Bloody Mary” 』 | 『 Lancelot Novellion, “The Second Son” 』

Others ; Davidson Novellion | Noor Jawahir

Mentioned ; Isfrid Aneira | Astrid Aneira | Roya Callistis | Gwendolyn Schnee (vaguely mentioned)

Pairing(s) ; Maria & Lance | Davis & Noor | Roya & Gwen (hinted at)

【 All Ocs belong to their respective owners and will be credited at the end. 】

Synopsis: “Nothing in the world belongs to me, but my love, mine all mine all mine.”

Warning(s): No angst just tooth-rotting fluff, okay that's a lie there's a little angst, Lance got advice from Roya so that's a plus, Door content‼️‼️, they're so Mitski coded it's actually insane, cute banter ig

[ Apologies for any out of character moments ]

⊱────────────────────⊰

⊱────────────────────⊰

Maria stared down at the rose in her hands, or rather, the multiple roses in her hands. Three, total.

They've been in her possession for somewhat of a long time, by now, and no matter how much Noor questioned on why she kept them for so long, Maria persisted in saying she'd rather keep the roses until they're nothing but wilted stems.

Lance had been generous in giving her roses during special occasions. It was embarrassing for Maria how silently giddy she was in the back of her head every time he gave her a rose— a small, but meaningful declaration of his affections for his Bloody Mary.

It made her chuckle, every so often, when she remembered the teasing Lance would get every time she and him parted ways, and Davis met his baby brother soon after to relentlessly throw onslaught after onslaught of teasing.

⊱───────────────⊰

“Another rose? For me?”

Maria smiled, crossing her arms. Yet another joint event between RSA and NRC �� this time hosted by RSA — and Lance made it an opportunity of his to sneak Maria away from everyone else.

Now, they leaned against the bookshelves of one of the deeper, darker parts of the Royal Sword archive— with the second son of BlackHeart making a valiant effort in trying to, quote on quote, ‘kabedon’ Maria.

Which he failed. Miserably. He was lucky Maria wasn't teasing him, yet.

He cleared his throat. Barely a word in, and a flush of pink dusted his cheeks. “I… I guess I've turned it into a bit of a tradition.”

“A tradition I don't mind,” Maria's smile widened, if not ever so slightly. “It's not something to be embarrassed about.”

“Try telling that to my brother…” Lance felt exasperated just mentioning Davis; and that wasn't even bringing up what Maria could only assume was a massacre of teasing if Lance ever told Davis he'd steal her away from the crowd.

“Hmm, true,” Maria tilted her head closer to Lance, “your brother's kind of a handful.”

Lance raised a brow. “Kind of?”

“You have reason to doubt that, Novellion?”

“Many, actually.”

“Pffft- He isn't a manchild, Lance.”

“In public.” Lance clarified, crossing his arms. “He's not a manchild, in public.”

She giggled. “Is there something you aren't telling me, Lancelot Novellion?” Maria questioned with a mock-stern tone.

He smiled, tilting his head back at her. “Maybe, maybe not. You can never truly know.”

Maria whistled, her nose brushing against Lance's. “You're getting a whole lot smoother, Lancelot Novellion…”

He chuckled, his forehead soon pressing against her own. “I'm glad you think so.”

His arms wrapped around Maria's waist, bringing her close enough for his nose to breathe in her scent at the crook of her neck.

Maria lightly smacked his shoulder. “Lance!” She scolded, though it wasn't much of a scolding with the way she was smiling.

In retaliation, Lance's only line of defense was the rose that remained in his hands, which he soon offered to Maria. Thankfully, merciful Bloody Mary that she was, Maria accepted.

And for good measure, an additional kiss to Lance's cheek.

The highlight of Maria's day was the red of Lance's face after the fact, as well as the rose she received by way of unofficial tradition.

⊱───────────────⊰

The second rose given was just as special; Maria and Noor were the ‘plus ones’ of the Lucretius brothers during a particularly eventful noble gathering in the BlackHeart empire.

Noor eyed the sea of aristocrats before her, whistling lowly. “Hoo… would you look at that,” she gave Davis a look.

He recognized the meaning of that expression in less than a heartbeat. “At what, dearest Apollonia?” He brought her hand into his, amber eyes meeting hers.

“Lots of people to mess with,” Noor answered, a low laugh escaping her lips.

Davis brought a hand to his chest, his gasp nothing short of theatric. “Sweet Apollonia…” his feigned shock transitioned into a cheeky grin that was soon paired by a kiss to Noor's hand. “... you are nothing short of perfection.”

With that, the pair were off. Lance wasn't surprised Davis was so willing to go along with Noor's antics; being the heir to the throne, he might've had a lot of responsibility… but compared to his little brother, Davis was less likely to get a scolding from his mother while their father was currently bedridden from unknown circumstances.

“And… they're off.” Isfrid Aneira blinked, bewildered and possibly concerned over how the events of the night will go on from there.

Her sister, Astrid, was beaming with energetic intensity. “Not going to lie… I kinda wanna see how this'll go..”

Isfrid’s eyebrows raised. “Huh-?”

“She's joking,” Lance chimed in, eliciting a slight yelp on the part of Isfrid. “Hopefully.”

“You better start hoping a little more hopily!” Astrid decreed, rushing off to wreak havoc alongside Davis and sweet, sweet Noor.

“Hopily isn't even a word….” Isfrid murmured, letting out a quiet, ice cold breath. Naturally cold to the touch, even now.

Lance shrugged. “It'll work out… probably.” The probably was doing the heavy lifting for that sentence. Not a good sign, in Isfrid's eyes.

Lance and Isfrid eventually went off on their own ways; the latter following her sister to stop her from — hopefully — not getting into too much trouble, while the former…

Lance found Maria on the balcony, isolating herself from the rest of crowd. Dressed for spectacle with skin that shone like the moon, it was like he couldn't focus on anything else once his sights were set on Maria.

With a heart skipping its beat, Lance crept up to Maria, lightly tapping her on the shoulder to garner her attention away from her undivided gaze upon the night sky. No stars, only the company of the moon.

“Oh,” Maria smiled slightly, leaning back and relaxing against the balcony once it processed to her that it was just Lance. “Isolating yourself from the crowd, too?”

“You could say that,” Lance said softly, looking between her and the moon. “Davis and Noor are at it again.”

“When are they not, though?” Maria retorted.

Lance couldn't argue about that. “True.”

After a beat of silence, Lance muttered. “... You look beautiful.”

Maria averted her gaze from the color of his irises to the gleam of the moonlight that they were currently bathed in. “... Thanks.”

“You're someone who naturally attracts attention,” Lance's voice was soft, velvety. “You… you're like the flame that attracts so many, many moths.”

And I am one of them, he thought to himself. Not even the least bit ashamed of it. Because unlike his brother, Lance was okay with putting his pride aside.

He awaited Maria's response. He'd predicted that she'd comment on how he was one of those moths. But instead, what she uttered was, “You're becoming more poetic, as of recently.”

While he wasn't anticipating a comment like that, Lance also wasn't surprised she'd comment on it at all.

“You have Roya to thank for that.”

Roya — frighteningly and hopelessly enamored man that he was for, in Davis' words, ‘his special little snowflake’ — had given Lance a thing or two when it came to improving on his… lackluster efforts in poetic flattery.

Maria's eyebrows shot up. “Roya? Roya, as in, Davis-wants-him-dead Roya?”

Lance couldn't fight the laugh that unexpectedly left him. “Yeah… yeah, that Roya.”

There again, that dramatic pause of silence awaited them so exquisitely, so beautifully. Not as beautiful as the moon and the light that shone over them.

Not nearly as beautiful as Maria's entire being.

That being said, Lance knew he had to go. He had as much responsibility of being a prince as Davis; albeit, a much smaller reach, lesser influence on the people Davis would later govern in a not so distant future.

He looked over at Maria, his hand gently grazing her chin, turning it slightly; all so she could meet his eyes.

“I have to go now…” unlike his brother, Lance wasn't the least bit ashamed of how unapologetic he could sound with such simple words.

“Ah,” Maria brought Lance's hand, the one that tenderly grazed her chin, up to her cheek, pressing it against the touch of his palm against her face. “I… understand.”

Lance kissed the crown of her head, smiling at Maria. He needn't say another word to her, having bid her adieu.

Only then, when his presence was nowhere beside her, did Maria finally notice the rose he'd placed on the balcony’s stone railing.

⊱───────────────⊰

Lance never quite had what Davis had. The attention, the pride, the glory that came with being the heir to the throne— Lance had never grown up believing that the BlackHeart throne would ever be his.

And that was fine with him. He didn't want, nor need, the throne the way Davis did.

Nothing in the world seemed to truly be… Lance's. For even when the world was his playground, with an emperor that conquered realm after realm and an empire wealthier than most kings— nothing could distract Lance from the obvious fact that those were never his.

They were Davis'.

Davis, on the throne. Davis with the world at his fingertips.

Davis, with his charm and cruelty, destined to make the history books; whether good or bad it did not matter.

Undoubtedly, that was likely what made Lance's love for Maria so… perfect.

The world was never his. He could gaze up at the moon and tell its patron, Artemis, Selene, it did not matter who— he could tell the god with the moon as their symbol that the world was, and never will be, his.

Nothing in the world belonged to him. Not once, not ever, never for free. There would always be a price to pay if he were to be selfish.

The moon was there. Before and after, it would always be there, shining down on Lance.

He took a good look at it, now. Currently sitting on the balcony of his dorm room, he felt more comforted at that very moment than during any part of his childhood.

After one look up, he took a look down. Maria slept with her head nestled on his lap, lips parted, eyes fluttered shut.

Beautiful.

Lance had often called Davis ‘creepy’ for staring at Noor for longer than Lance would deem appropriate— but now… his brother was free to call Lance a hypocrite for that, now, with the way he gazed down at Maria's sleeping form.

Gently, he took out his gift for her, to end the day; a dark red, rose. Matching that of the streak in Maria's hair, the color of her eyes.

Lance stared at it for a long while, looking at it to make sure that it was nothing short of perfection in the same vein as his father expecting that from Davis— Maria deserved nothing but the best.

Breathing had never felt so difficult when it was around her; to Lance, she was the flame that attracted so many people, so many moths— treating him with humanity, not putting him on some pedestal.

He'll wake her, eventually. The night was still too young to do it, but when the time came, Lance would wake her; and he'd make sure that she'd wake with only the most perfect rose he could find. The one he held in his hands just wasn't enough.

He smiled down at her, the way only a fool in love would smile. His hands moved parts of her hair from her forehead, admiring every little detail he could find about it— memorizing every part until it was all he could think about.

Loving Maria felt right. Loving her felt as easy as breathing.

She taught Lance, a prince who'd done nothing but give until there was nothing left to give, that it was okay to be selfish.

⊱────────────────────⊰

【 Taglist / Credits 】

↳ In order of OC appearances/mentions

Maria Alarik — @jasdiary

Lancelot Novellion — Me 😈

Davidson Novellion — Also Me 😈

Noor Jawahir — @/jasdiary

Isfrid Aneira — @/jasdiary

Astrid Aneira — @starry-night-rose

Roya Callistis — Also (x2) Me 😈

Gwendolyn Schnee — @/starry-night-rose

|| @authoruio || @fumikomiyasaki || @nem0-nee || @sakuramidnight15 || @hallowed-delights / @terrovaniadorm || @twsted-princess || @absolutelyobsessedkiya / @twistedsongstressofstarz || @mystery-skulls-ghost || @valse-a-mille-temps ||

[bramblrose]

“Legend says that before Eana brought her hawk to land in the sea, she and the sun were lovers. And when she left for another life in a new world, the sun came down from the sky to kiss her goodbye. But while Eana could withstand the heat, the land could not. The kiss scorched the earth and the desert was born. It was a gift to this new land, sun-warmed and golden. But the desert never forgot the sun. That's why the sands are always moving, always shifting-they're trying to go home.”

[bookish-rival]

SPOILERS for BURNING CROWNS🔥

Oonagh swung Wren around to find the king of Gevra standing at the edge of the cliff, looking worse than Wren had ever seen him. And that really was saying something. Yet, despite his weakness, she could tell be the smudges of dirt on his cheeks and the grass stains on his trousers that somehow, Alarik Felsing had dragged himself up those cliffs.

Wren felt herself smile.

Alarik, for all his suffering, smiled back.

~ BURNING CROWNS

《《《《《☆》》》》》

▪︎ art by the amazing @im_arc❤️

▪︎ commissioned by me

▪︎ Characters: Queen Wren Greenrock & King Alarik Felsing belong to Catherine Doyle and Katherine Webber

▪︎ clothing design by @im_arc -> she also made a beautiful Wren portrait for @stephdaydreams and was kind enough to use the same design for my commission as well! 🫶🏼

》 Please DO NOT repost! 《

~☆~

I am VERY excited to share this wonderful piece with you all!!

For those who don't know by now, I might be VERY Alarik biased 😂😂 (I mean how could I not?! Do you see this face?!! 😍❄️)

Let me tell you, I BAWLED my eyes out when I read this scene because it was so simple, yet so beautiful😍 and immediately went to find an artist who could bring it to life!! And @im_arc was the perfect choice!

I hope this illustration will push many other readers to go and read the final installment of the Twin Crowns Trilogy!! 👑

But do not worry! This might be the conclusion to Wren and Rose's story, but two spin-offs about two known beloved characters are on their way!!

We will return to this world in the future!! ✨️

❤️✨Here's to the authors who craft worlds worth getting lost in, and to the fans who keep the magic alive✨❤️

♡ This fanart is to celebrate the final book & the characters featured, so please keep comments respectful, thank you!

[frozenprocedural]

24 Elsarik :D

"Your Hair is So Soft"

Rating: K

Set in my Costs an Arm and a Leg verse. Alarik belongs to @patricia-von-arundel.

“You're joking.”

“I am not. Yes, Kristoff had reservations at first. But now, he loves it. Never asks for one, but he never turns it down either. I'm telling you, washing his hair, with a scalp massage? Alarik will be putty.”

Elsa shook her head, balling up her napkin and placing it in the aluminum takeout bowl. “I guess. It's just not something that immediately comes to mind.”

Anna swept their trash into the paper bag and stood. “Oh, it doesn't. But he'll love it. If I'm wrong, the next chocolate haul is on me. But I won't be. Which means you can pay.”

Elsa didn't think about their conversation until Alarik came home a few days later, his face tight with pain. Before the door had even fully closed behind him, he had his prosthetic and sleeve off, rubbing the burned skin of his stump. 

“Oh, Alarik. How bad?” She offered her hands, and he allowed her to work on his skin, massaging in slow, gentle circles.

“Enough. It's been building for the past few days. I probably should have rested it more.”

Elsa hummed, continuing to rub his arm. Anna's suggestion came back to her, and she smiled up at Alarik, standing on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“I'll warm up the leftovers, and then I want to try something, if you're willing.”

He turned so he could kiss her mouth, wrapping his other arm around her waist. “Of course, darling.”

…….

“I certainly could have started my own bath.”

“I know. But it's not just a bath. Now, how's the temperature?”

Alarik padded over, dipping a finger into the water. “Perfect.”

“Good! In you go.”

He settled in, looking back at her as she adjusted the chair so she was sitting by his head. 

“Are you joining me?”

“Not this time. I'm going to do your hair.”

His face scrunched in confusion. “But I-”

“I know you can wash your hair. But I want to try this. To give you a chance to relax. May I?”

Alarik rested his head against the towel she'd placed on the tub's rim, smiling. “Of course. I put myself in your capable hands.”

Elsa chuckled, leaning forward to place a kiss on his head. “I need you to lift your head so I can rinse your hair, though.”

After a thorough rinse, Elsa pulled over the pump bottle with Alarik's 3-in-1 shampoo. “I still don't understand how this works for you, while I have to use multiple products.” 

“The benefits of having luscious, curly locks, I suppose.”

Elsa rolled her eyes and laughed, splashing his neck. “Goose.”

Several pumps of shampoo onto her hand, and then she started, working it into his hair and scalp, working up a healthy lather. Elsa was surprised at how much she enjoyed it- running her hands through his hair and hearing the bubbly-scratchy noise of the shampoo was soothing in its own way. She could feel Alarik relaxing beneath her, his shoulders slumping and… shaking?

Was he crying?

“Alarik? Are you alright? Are you hurting?”

He sniffed, wiping his hand across his eyes. “No, I'm fine. I… it's… no one's ever done anything like this for me before. And… it's so nice… Oh God, why am I crying so much!?”

“Hey, hey, it's alright.” Elsa rinsed her hands in the water, then shifted the stool so he could look at her. She placed a hand on his cheek, using her thumb to wipe away the tears. “It's okay to feel. I'm here. And I love you, so, so much.”

Alarik sniffled and turned to kiss her palm, his hand coming up to cover hers. “I know. I'm so lucky to have you. And I love you so, so much.”

How long they sat there, Elsa wasn't sure. Eventually, Alarik looked back up at her with a quirked smile. “Would you… would you start washing my hair again?”

Elsa smiled back and shifted the stool. “Of course.” 

She added in some more shampoo, and soon Alarik was sighing and slumping against the tub as she massaged his scalp. Elsa kept it up for a few more minutes, before tapping his shoulder. 

“Time to rinse.”

He turned so she could see his pout. “Do you have to?”

She laughs. “Yes, Alarik. Besides, I'm sure the water is getting cold.”

“I'd survive.” Still, he sat up, letting her rinse. He took the proffered soap from her and finished washing himself, before reaching forward to pull the drain plug. He stepped out and toweled off, while Elsa grabbed his bottle of moisturizer. She followed him into their bedroom, and waited until he got dressed to sit beside him on the bed. 

“May I?”

He didn't hesitate, but immediately placed his stump into her lap. She was struck, as often was the case, by the trust he had in her. Alarik had grown more accepting about his missing hand and burn scars over the years, but he still tended to want to at least keep the skin covered while out in public. But that didn't happen with her. 

“You don't have to ask, you know. To touch…” He raised and lowered his stump.

“Would you ever stop asking me for permission to touch mine? Or work on my prosthetics? Even though I say yes every time?”

“Of course not! You might not want me to touch it at some point! I don't ever want to assume… oh.”

Elsa leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek. “Exactly. The same goes for you. Every. Time. Now, let's take care of your skin.”

Elsa squeezed a dollop of the lavender-scented lotion onto her hand. She was thorough, working the moisturizer deep into his skin, making sure to massage it well. She felt Alarik relaxing against her, and smiled, happy to see that he appeared to be feeling better. 

“You are amazing.”

She closed the bottle with a giggle, and passed him his nightshirt. After donning her own pajamas- just an old shirt of his and a pair of shorts- she settled into bed, tugging on his arm until he laid down next to her. She cuddled into his chest with a sigh, raising one hand to run it through his drying curls. 

“Your hair is so soft.”

She felt more than heard his chuckle. “What can I say? Luscious locks.” He kissed the top of her head. “Thank you, again. That was really nice.”

“I'm glad you enjoyed it. Just… don't tell Anna.”

“Wait, what?”

[justreallybored]

Just found out Alarik from Twin Crowns is getting his own book.

Yes pleeaaaase!

[elif-in-wonderland]

Excited today for Burning Crowns!!! I can’t wait to find out the final conclusion. And most of all, I want Wren and Tor to be endgame😩 I’m a little nervous about that tho :))

[shrowdly]

[authoruio]

happy birthday @terrovaniadorm!!

Thank you for introducing me, Ellrizz and Jasballs to your dorm!