#i feel like alexander would be a more likely name for him to be given and i could still

[bearzocs]

Thinking about changing Uzian’s Layla’s dad) name to Usman…possibly I’m not sure yet. Also might change Zende’s (Layla’s oldest sibling) name to Alexander with Xande for short…

[ruins-of-babylon]

Legacy

Mattheo Riddle x reader angst & smut

♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♥︎

𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎：after your traitorous brother runs away, abandoning his carefully placed destiny, you are forced to take his place, abandoning any and all plans you had for your future.

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈：blood, main character gets cut, kinda psychopath main character at the end, fem pronouns, some smut, arranged marriage, kinda mean!mattheo, mentions of drugs and alcohol, mentions of self harm, you have a brother, let me know if I missed anything!

𝒩ℴ𝓉ℯ：how I felt writing, “it hung over your head like a halo, but it was nowhere close to holy.” : 😈

⚠︎︎⚠︎︎this fic is pretty dark. MDNI❗️⚠︎︎⚠︎︎

Your fate had been decided when you were 5 years old. It hung over your head like a halo, but it was nowhere close to holy. It was placed by your father, who was among the many servants of Voldemort, which made your role very important. You were not here for yourself, you were brought into this world for one purpose only. When he sat you down and told you this, it was hard to comprehend, your 5 year old brain not quite wrapping around the concept, but it became more and more real as you grew older. It went as followed: You would grow up, and at 20 years old you would marry the dark lord’s son, Mattheo Riddle. It would add power and influence to your family name. Your older brother, Alexander, would carry the family business along with the new generation, that ‘business’ would be working as the right hand man to the dark lord, his own private assassin. It was all set in stone, an unwavering commitment.

————

The first time you met your future husband was on the first day of your first year. He was gentler then, a mischievous but likable boy, before he turned bitter. He recognized you, having also being told his decided fate since day one, and came up to you. While you expected a handshake, maybe a hug, he instead pushed you to the hard ground before running away. The concrete dug into your soft skin, tearing your skin mercilessly. Your knees, palms, and elbows took the most damage, but his apparent dislike of you almost hurt more. You avoided him as much as possible, knowing you and him had an inevitable lifetime to spend with each other when you graduated. That, however, was hard, since you were both in the same house and had many classes together.

As the time passed, your disdain for him only grew. As he got older, his physical bullying turned to mental and emotional, plus he had earned himself the reputation as a manwhore, his ego growing too large for your liking. He was cocky, arrogant, irrational, and just a fucking dick. His attractiveness only made everything worse. You were conflicted; he clearly wasn’t attracted to you, from what you could tell, and you realized he would be a terrible husband. But god, was he handsome.

One night, you were hanging out with your friend group, which just so happened to contain Mattheo, at this moment. No one could tell where he was or would be at any given time. You all had gathered in a circle, playing truth or dare. Theodore Nott, being the annoying prick he was, picked Mattheo. He chose truth.

Theo’s exact words, “Are you happy to marry (Y/n)?” You all held your breath, his question echoed around the room as all the side conversations went silent. Everyone wondered the same question, but no one was brave enough to ask. Anticipation hung in the air, and you had a bad feeling he was going to say no.

“Not at all. I’d rather be with anyone else, but I have to be stuck with her, of all fucking people.” He said, looking at Theo as he spoke your worst fear. He made eye contact with you before continuing, “You’re the reason I’m miserable, you’ve ruined my life.” You held eye contact with him, an evil smile on his face, trying to maintain a stoic expression on your own. Your heart tensed, feeling heavy in your chest. You broke eye contact with him and stood up, waking away as calmly as you could. No one tried to stop you, or call out your name to come back. They all watched you as your feet carried you back to your room faithfully. Your vision swirled as tears brimmed in your eyes, but you wouldn’t let them fall until you were out of sight. A shaky breath of relief exited your lungs as you shut the door behind you, locking it and holding yourself as you let your body slide down to the floor against the door. The tears finally fell, a seemingly endless stream of them flowing down your cheeks, past your chin, settling on your lips. After what felt like hours, you stood up and walked towards your desk. You opened the top drawer and sorted around the various distractions you kept for moments just like these. To stay numb, you kept a small selection of drugs, small blades, a lighter and pack of cigarettes, and a few small bottles of various alcohol. You decided on a bag of fine white powder and a cigarette.

Later that night there was a knock at your door, as there usually was. You didn’t feel like opening it, satisfied to stay sitting on the windowsill blowing smoke into the night sky. But, unfortunately for you, you forgot to lock the door. As the door swung open, you didn’t even turn to look at him, already knowing who he was.

You blew out the smoke from your lungs. “What do you want?” You could hear his footsteps getting closer to you, but you still couldn’t find the energy to turn your head and look at him. His cold hand gently placed itself on your shoulder, turning you around to face him. You stared into his eyes, which looked like deep pools of honey if the sun shines just right. Now, in the darkness, they almost looked black, a probable reflection of his soul.

He held your gaze, an almost sorry look in his eyes. “You know what I say isn’t true, right?” He asks in a whisper. You nod, taking another drag of the cigarette between your fingers, looking back outside the window. His sighed, not content with your response. He took the cigarette from your hand and put it out on the ashtray next to you on the window. “Let me make it up to you.” He proposed, waiting for you to say yes.

A small smile graced your lips, “You better.” He laughed softly before picking you up and walking you towards your bed. He gently laid you down, your back on the soft mattress, taking off your clothes and throwing them down on the floor. His kisses started on your neck, your soft whines fueling his desire to please you. He moved down your body inch by inch, slowly placing his lips over your body, your collarbones, chest, breasts, torso, hips, and thighs receiving equal attention from him. He laid between your legs, slowly dragging a finger through your folds.

“My pretty girl, so wet for me.” He said, gathering some of your wetness on his fingertip before bringing it to your clit, keeping it still. Your body jolted at the stimulation, moaning for him to just move, do something. He quietly laughed at your desperation, finally moving his finger in small circles around your little bundle of nerves. “I love this perfect pussy so much.” You jumped at his actions, a whiny groan slipping past your lips. Taking his finger away from your clit, he brought it down to your entrance, slowly pushing it in as your inner walls gladly sucked him in. You grumbled at the loss of attention on your puffy clit before he replaced his finger with his mouth. He started with soft licks with the tip of his tongue, letting you relax into him, before he harshly sucked on your pearl, wrapping his lips around it. You nearly screamed from how good it felt, your legs moving around, switching between squeezing his head and opening wider, the stimulation almost too much. He laughed against you, sending delicious vibrations to your core before taking his finger out of you and pushing your legs apart. You moaned his name along with curses over and over again, almost sounding like you were worshipping him. How could you not when he made you feel so good? He switched between harsh sucks, gentle licks, and grazing his teeth against your sensitive clit, every now and then teasing your hole by pushing his tongue into it. It took almost no time before you were cumming against his mouth, breathing heavily as he drank up every last drop of your release. As you came down from your high, he pulled his body up until he was hovering right above you. His lips met yours with so much passion, so much love, you could almost believe he felt even a fraction of what you felt for him. After a moment, he pulled away.

“You’re so fucking good at that.” You told him breathlessly, savoring his chuckle. Oh how you wished he would love you. A silence settled between you, whether it was comfortable to awkward, you couldn’t tell. You just stared at each other, and you would have given anything to know what he was thinking about.

That was 2 weeks before your life would change, for better or for worse, you would find out. It was also the last time you would let him hurt you with his words. This change would start with an unexpected letter from your father:

（𝒴／𝓃）， ℐ𝓃 𝒶𝓃 𝓊𝓃ℯ𝓍𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒾𝓃𝒶𝒷𝓁ℯ 𝓉𝓊𝓇𝓃 ℴ𝒻 ℯ𝓋ℯ𝓃𝓉𝓈，𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 ℴ𝓁𝒹ℯ𝓇 𝒷𝓇ℴ𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇，𝒜𝓁ℯ𝓍𝒶𝓃𝒹ℯ𝓇，𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝓇𝒶𝓃 𝒶𝓌𝒶𝓎．ℐ 𝓈𝓊𝓁𝓁ℴ𝓈ℯ𝒹 𝒽ℯ 𝓌𝒶𝓈𝓃’𝓉 𝓇ℯ𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝓉ℴ 𝓈ℯ𝓇𝓋ℯ ℴ𝓊𝓇 ℒℴ𝓇𝒹，𝒶𝓈 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓈ℯ𝓇𝓋𝒿𝒸ℯ 𝓌ℴ𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝓋ℯ 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓉ℯ𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓂ℴ𝓈𝓉 ℯ𝓍𝒶𝒸𝓉𝓁𝓎 𝒶 𝓎ℯ𝒶𝓇 𝒻𝓇ℴ𝓂 𝓃ℴ𝓌．ℋℯ 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝓊𝒻𝒻ℯ𝓇 𝒶 𝓂𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝓌ℴ𝓇𝓈ℯ 𝒻𝒶𝓉ℯ，ℐ 𝒻ℯ𝒶𝓇．ℱℴ𝓇𝓉𝓊𝓃𝒶𝓉ℯ𝓁𝓎 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝓎ℴ𝓊，𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝑔ℯ𝓉 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓅𝓇𝒾𝓋𝓁ℯ𝒹𝑔ℯ ℴ𝒻 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸ℯ．𝒜𝓈 𝓈ℴℴ𝓃 𝒶𝓈 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝒹𝓊𝒶𝓉ℯ 𝓁𝒶𝓉ℯ𝓇 𝓉𝒷𝒿𝓈 𝓎ℯ𝒶𝓇，𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝑔ℴ 𝓉𝒽𝓇ℴ𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒾𝓃���𝓃𝑔 ℴ𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓂ℯ𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝒻ℴ𝓇 𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝒷𝓇ℴ𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇，𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓇ℯ𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒸ℯ 𝒽𝒾𝓂 𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝒽ℯ 𝓅ℯ𝓇𝓈ℴ𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃 𝒻ℴ𝓇 ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝒢ℴℴ𝒹 ℒℴ𝓇𝒹．𝒫𝓇ℯ𝓅𝒶𝓇ℯ．

－ℱ𝒶𝓉𝒽ℯ𝓇

At first, it didn’t feel real. This had to have been some kind of joke, right? Alexander was so excited to take on his role, or so it seemed. As reality settled in, you started to distance yourself from everyone. You blew off your friends, preferring to stay in your dorm and wallow in self pity. It wasn’t fair. Your brother had his fate, you had yours. It was set in stone. You had almost looked forward to it at times. But not anymore. You had to suppress your emotions, adapt to this new world. You would train to become an assassin for the Dark Lord, you would destroy what you loved, everything you touched would break. For this, you had to sacrifice your feelings, tears, and longing for a life you could no longer have. You counted down the days until graduation, the time in between was hell. You left all your friends, replacing them with drugs. The time seemed to tick by slower and slower, like staring at a clock’s hands tick tick tick as they seemed to hesitate to go where you wanted.

A soft knock sounded from you door, and you had a sneaking suspicion of who it was. You didn’t know why he even bothered knocking. You never opened the door for him, nor anyone as of late. As the door slowly opened and his frame emerged from it, looking around for you. His eyes landed on your desk, slowly walking towards you to investigate. You slowly blinked at him as he watched you, clearly intoxicated. The evidence sat right behind you, the little white pills contrasting with the dark wood of your desk.

“Oh, angel,” he whispered, placing his hand on the back of your head and stroking your hair as you stared up at him. “Why?”

He was surprised when you laughed. It was mocking, cold. You didn’t feel anything for him anymore. You couldn’t. “Why are you here?” You asked him, clumsily pulling his hand from your head. Everything felt fuzzy, and you couldn’t stop chasing the feeling.

“Just wanted to check on you. You haven’t been coming to meals and your friends said you dropped them.” He answered, a seemingly genuine look of concern in his eyes.

“Haven’t you heard?” You asked him, referring to your cancelled marriage and your new role to fill.

“Heard what?” He was confused, his brows furrowed together as he anticipated your answer. You laughed again, thinking he must be joking.

“Your daddy didn’t tell you? My brother ran away so I have to take his place. And our arranged marriage is cancelled.” You state. You laugh again, everything seems so funny. Now he looks even more confused. Shock, horror, and despair run through his features as he takes it all in. Then he laughs, a nervous-sounding forced laugh.

“You finally get what you want. Lucky you.” You add, bitterly. Now, he’s silent. As you stare at his face, a sudden rage floods your veins. You stand up, facing him, and push him, your hands pressing against his muscular chest. Again, again, and again, you push him until he’s standing before your door, letting you move him. As you move to push him one final time out of your dorm, he stops moving at your will.

“Wait,” he starts. “I-.”

You interrupt him. “GET OUT!” You scream at him, balling your hands into fists and beating his chest as hard as you can, but he doesn’t seem to feel it. A cold bucket of water seems to fall on your head, everything you’ve bottled for the past weeks suddenly bursting from its cage. Tears flow freely down your face, you finally stop hitting and screaming at him, placing your palms flat on his chest and resting your head between your hands, crying into him. He gently strokes your back, holding you against him. He rests his cheek on the top of your head, comforting you.

“I’m sorry, my love,” he says. “Let it all out.” He’s so gentle, holding you, speaking comforting words, trying to make you feel better. This might be the only time you’ve ever felt truly safe and loved, and that scares you. Just as you feel the warmth in your chest, you push him away one final time, so the cold can settle in again. You slam the door and lock it, sliding down it onto the floor as he bangs against it a few times.

”Please, baby, let me in.” He says, you can tell he’s right outside. You’re tempted to open it, let him in, let him hold you and make you feel loved for the last time. But as your hand hesitantly reaches up, you stop it. It will hurt more if you let him again. The tears still fall, an added weight on your shoulders. You slowly crawl from the door to your bed, exhaustedly tucking yourself in, curling into a ball as he continues to try to convince you to open the door from the outside.

❀❀❀❀

How did I get here? You wonder as you stood before the dark lord himself, his son standing a little farther behind him. Your father’s instructions had been rather clear: tell him what he wants to hear, don’t talk back, be respectful. You fidget with your fingers behind your back, subtly wiping your sweaty palms against your pants. Your heart was beating fast inside your chest, your head pounding.

“It was such a shame that your brother ran away. Now you must take his place, revise any plans you thought you had for a life you never imagined.” He said, walking in tight circles around you. You stared at the floor in front of you.

“He made his decision, however selfish it was. The show must go on.” You curtly replied, a tone in your voice that you didn’t intend. You brought your hands back to your sides, pressing your palms to the sides of your thighs, brushing the fabric of your pants. You could feel his presence behind you, radiating a cold sort of energy that contrasted with the hot room.

“Yes, you are correct. I must inform you that your first assignment will be to hunt him down and kill him. Will that be a problem?” He asked, now standing a foot away from you to your left. You had suspected something like this.

“Not at all. My duty will always come before emotion.” You answered, hoping that would satisfy him. You still looked down, following a crack on the concrete floor with your eyes. You could feel your palms sweating again.

“Good answer, my dear.” He said, now standing directly in front of you. You brought your eyes up to meet his. “There’s one last thing I will do, then you’re official.” He finished. Mattheo stayed completely still, not a single word from him as he stood watching you. So much hung between you, there were so many emotions, words, and tension you wanted to share, say, and break.

“Anything.” You calmly replied, ready to face whatever he had for you. From his robes he pulled a dagger with a jagged blade, spurring your curiosity. As he reached for your right hand, he pulled it towards himself, facing your palm upwards. He inspected the dark mark inked on your wrist before bringing his attention back to whatever he was doing. You held your breath, waiting for him to place the knife in your hand. Several seconds passed as the both of you just stood there, his cold hand grasping your wrist as you nearly shook from anticipation. He briskly pulled his hand up, and as you stared at your reflection, you felt a wave of some emotion you couldn’t name flood your bones. As you began to prepare to be pierced by his blade, he instead rested it in your hand. Just as you breathe your sigh of relief, he rotates the blade slightly and slices right through your palm, a deep and forceful cut. The blade must have been very sharp; It seemed to glide through your skin with little effort. The pain hits you all at once, a stinging sensation emitted from the wound. You gasp, sucking in a sharp breath, and bite your lip hard enough to pierce the delicate skin, now bleeding.

Blood poured from the wound like a fountain as you took it all in. All the pain, all the feeling, all the blood, flowing down your wrist and soaking the ground below you. You couldn’t close your eyes. That was the moment you knew this would suit you. The sight of your blood flowing from you satisfied an itch deep inside. You craved it, again and again, ready to devote your life to the craft assigned to you by cruel karma, god, the universe, or whatever you want to call it. Although, it was right. This is what you were born for. This is what you will die for. In fate’s eyes, you watch yourself. ‘This is me.’ Is all your reflection seems to say.

This is me.

𖧷𖧷𖧷𖧷

Hello lovelies! I hope you enjoyed. I’m thinking of doing a part two about Mattheo’s POV, so let me know if you’d like that! <3

[theblueseassoul]

“Exauhsted.”

It’s been a long day.

I might make a part two.

Song listened to while writing: “What the water gave me - Florence + The Machine”

Zayne x Reader

Love and deep space fan fiction

Talk of mental health.

No use of Y/n. Gender neutral reader. Read in the second person. Established relationship.

This past week has been hell. And the most annoying part is that you have absolutely no idea why. This happened once in a while, but it hadn’t happened in so long so you thought you’d be able to escape it for a while longer. Instead, here you sat curled up in your work chair, arms around your legs and gazing out of the window nearby once more. At least it had a nice view of the city, you thought, as you watched time pass. You sighed softly, closing your eyes for a moment. Not even a few moments later, you heard someone call out your name. You winced, hoping if you hid your head in your arms they wouldn’t see you, but you knew that isn’t how it worked. They called your name again.

When you looked up, you found Alexander. Alexander was your co-worker, and often took your kindness for granted. You worked hard, everyone knew that, you even took on missions that you weren’t even required to do. You loved your job. This was something you’d dreamed of for… you don’t know how long. So of course you put everything you had into it, you were protecting people by doing your job. It was worth it. However, Alexander made you hate it just for a moment. a brief moment but a moment nonetheless. He grinned, brown hair annoyingly messy as was his uniform. “Are you done with that assignment I asked you to help me with?” He asked, leaning against your desk.

You raised a brow slightly but offered your politest smile. You could have done better on a better day, however this was not one of them, so that was the best he would get. “I did. I saw you had a lot of errors though. You missed a lot of dangerous-“ as you pulled it up to show him what had gone wrong, he waved his hand and cut you off.

“It’s whatever. No one actually reads them.” Alexander’s tone was dismissive, not even glancing at the highlighted sections. You looked at the title of the document and resisted the urge to roll your eyes. It was a complete overview of one of the sectors of the city getting more wanderers by the day, and metaflux’s. You knew people read them because you were people. These were given out to hunters for assignments to know what to expect. They were updated frequently and needed to be as accurate as possible for both hunter and civilian safety. You looked back at him.

“Yes, we do.” You stated, losing the patience you had to smile. “It’s actually vital for us hunters and the civilians who might come across these areas. You know that right? That lives depend on these reports?”

He scoffed, mumbling dismissive none sense and waving his hand in the air once more before saying “thanks for finishing it anyways. See you tomorrow yeah?” As he turned his back, you rolled your eyes and put your head face in your hands, mocking him under your breath.

“See you tomorrow! Whatever.” You murmured and once you knew he was out of the room, groaned in annoyance as you leaned back into your chair. “No one reads it anyways.” You mocked again, shaking your head. “Come on. It’s like you forgot the…” you went on into a nonsensical ramble and continued, until you noticed your phone buzzing next to your mouse. You sat up, picking up your phone and reading the caller ID. It read ‘snowy seal.’ It was Zayne, your doctor, and your boyfriend who didn’t call out of the blue often. You raised a brow and picked up, and he spoke almost immediately.

“There you are.” He hummed into the speaker, and as you started to question him, he continued “I texted you when my shift ended. Usually you’re done by now, are you working over time? You know you shouldn’t.” He warned you. You smiled softly. You knew he was lecturing you again, but it made you feel all warm inside knowing he cared so much. He was stern about it, but he was always that way. It was part of his charm.

“No, I was just..” you sighed, blowing a raspberry as you stood up. You turned off your computer with one hand while you held the phone up to your ear with the other “A co worker wanted to speak with me. Did you need something?” You asked, putting your jacket on your fore arm and picking up your back. He paused for a moment, the sound of a car rushing by before he started talking again.

“I’m waiting outside. Hurry, let’s go home.” Zayne said, and you swore you could hear the soft grin through the phone. Once you had everything and said goodbye to everyone, you left, and it only took a few steps before you heard your boyfriend’s cool voice calling your name. You smiled in almost relief, and wrapped your arms around him immediately. He hugged you back, one arm firmly around your waist and the other against your back holding you close to him.

At home, after you’d gotten changed and showered, you decided to do the dishes. They were piling up anyways. So you rolled your sleeves up, and started to empty the dishwasher. Usually, this task came easily to you. Of course you had your moments when motivation wasn’t at its peak, but if you forced yourself to do it, you would find yourself more content by the end of it. It was the same with a lot of house hold chores. You didn’t mind doing them, it was your house, of course you should take care of it. But it was just.. hard sometimes. You felt like a child because of it, how emotional you got over small things. Bouts of depression, Zayne called it. When it was hard to do anything at all. You forced your way through it though, with the help of your trusty doctor.

While you put the dishes away, you had dropped a plastic cup. You clicked your tongue softly in annoyance, “god..” you murmured and picked it up, rolling your eyes at yourself before putting it in its cabinet. Then, after a while, you dropped a spatula after letting go too early. This too made your patience wane. You felt the pricking feeling in the back of your eyes when you got frustrated, and got even more frustrated. You sighed and placed the spatula in its drawer, muttering “stay.” Before closing it. The last straw was when you were putting away pans, when they all fell out of the cabinet because they wouldn’t fit. At this point you weren’t sure if you wanted to scream or cry. The clashing and clanging was more than enough to wince, and you had to step back for a moment and try not to absolutely break down then and there. You flexed your hands, taking a deep breath. “This is ridiculous to get upset about.” You told yourself. You headed to the fridge for a drink, and on the way.. you ended up ramming your side into the island corner.

Zayne had walked into the kitchen then. Just as you simply gave up, sliding against the island and to the floor, covering your face. He heard you muttering to yourself about something stupid, being annoyed, and such. He knew how you got. You must’ve had a hard day, he thought. Or week. Or month. And so he carefully knelt down beside you, hand on your arm. “Honey.” He called, softly, in a tone he only ever used with you to calm you. Usually you felt special. Right now you were just filled with conflicting emotions you didn’t really know what to do or how to respond.

“Not even something to get upset about. Just dishes.” You groaned to yourself as you pulled your head up from your hands. Zayne carefully pulled you up to your feet, and walked you into your bedroom, rubbing your shoulder the whole time. He listened to your nonesense words, talking about how “I don’t even know why they all fell out.” Or “I’m so clumsy today. What is wrong with me.” Sometimes it wasn’t words, just noises sort of mushed together. He understood anyways.

Zayne sat you down on the bed, and crawled in beside you. He pulled the comforter over the both of you and opened an arm towards you, offering a hug if you wanted it. You leaned into him almost immediately, and his arm wrapped around you tightly, to keep you firmly against his side. He was silent for a while. He usually waited for you to start talking about what bothered you, because he didn’t want you to talk about it if you didn’t feel up to it. You did this time, but you didn’t even know what the issue was. That was what made it so frustrating. He rubbed his thumb against your arm, and asked softly “rough day?”

You sniffed. “I don’t know.” You shook your head, and he nodded slightly, to let you know he was listening. You continued, “I did what I usually do. I fought wanderers. Did reports. Alexander, he handed me an unfinished report and asked if I could do it because he had so much to do and I said yes.”

“The man who never finishes on time?”

“Yeah.” You nodded to Zayne’s question. “So I did. I found some stuff wrong so I corrected them and told him about it and he said..” you rolled your eyes, your lips pulling into a frown “no one ever reads them so why doesn’t it matter.” You threw a hand up slightly. “Like he doesn’t know that it’s actually crucial. Like what it a civilian wandered there and got hurt because we didn’t keep them from it because the report said there wasn’t any danger but there was. Someone could die. It’s our job to protect these people, you know?” You dropped your hand helplessly and shuffled closer to Zayne. “But that isn’t even what made me upset. It was dropping dishes.” You scoffed.

He hummed softly as he listened to you, leaning his head against yours as you curled into him further. When you stopped your ramble, he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head before he spoke “it sounds like you’re just overwhelmed. It happens, it’s alright.” Zayne said, rocking you back and forth slightly with him. His words were always carefully chosen, you could tell by the slow way he spoke and the pauses between his sentences. It was a nice grounder though. “You’ve been working very hard lately. I’m proud of you, you know.” This was just above a whisper, just for your ears. He rested his chin against your head again.

“You should take a day off.” Zayne suddenly suggested. You looked up at him, puzzled. He glanced at you and chuckled softly and continued to explain “you deserve it. You haven’t taken a day off in.. ages. If you do, I’ll stay here and take care of you. You can come into the office with me as well, if you want.” He said, squeezing your shoulders gently. You debated it, tilting your head into him and looking down at your hands laying in your lap.

“Mm.” You hummed softly in thought. You debated it, wondering if it was a good idea. You have been working hard lately, it wouldn’t hurt to have a day off. Just one. With Zayne, no less. He was usually drowning with work, it would be nice to have a just the two of you day. You nodded “I’d like that.” You finally said, looking up at him.

He smiled softly, a smile he only gave you. Warm, and filled with so much love it made your heart melt every time you saw it. “Good.” He kissed your forehead, and then your nose bridge, the tip of your nose, and then two firm ones against your cheeks, kissing away the trails the tears from before had left. “Let’s get you to bed early then. I’ll make dinner, after you’ll take your medicine, and tomorrow we will have lots of staying home to do.” He said, happily. You nodded, a warm smile spreading over your lips to match his.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Devotion

1,2k. words I Yandere! Alexander Anderson x gn! Reader

Warnings: captivity, stockholm-syndrome

Some say a person's room mirrors the state of their mind.

In case of your captor, it is chaotic and badly maintained. Make of that observation whatever you want.

The only possession he allows himself are books, they are scattered basically everywhere. You didn't have any indication of how long you've been here, but at this point you've read almost all of them.

Almost 7pm. He will soon return from supper.

You tense at the thought, yet at the same time you couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of excitement at his company. Most of the time he's away on missions, and his subordinates are not allowed to interact with you in any way. The solitude was slowly driving you insane.

Isolation as means of making someone subservient and dependant, clever...

Anderson had promised you that once the 'adjustment period' was over, you'd be allowed more freedom again...but the subtle indication that he was sure you'd eventually give in to your fate wasn't any comfort.

Running in circles like an animal trapped in a tiny cage, your glance wanders from the blank white ceiling to the wall next to the bed. So many doodles handdrawn by 'his' children as he fondly calls them, proudly put up there for him to admire.

It made you wonder if there was still some kind of humanity inside of him you could appeal to.

The sound of something rattling on the other side of the door teared you away from your thoughts, making cold dread drop like lead to your stomach.

He's back.

Father Alexander Anderson, a holy paladin known by many names, cleansing the world of unholy abominations threatening the catholic church.

Ironically, he turned out to be a monster in his own right.

Instantly you pull the blanket over yourself and squeeze your eyes shut, a fruitless attempt to shun out the inevitable. You hear him lock the door again, then for a while just tensed silence.

First thing he notices is that you cleaned his room, organized the books even since you didn't really have anything better to do. There had been order in his mess - one only he understood - but he was grateful either way.

That's what you're here for, after all - to bring some fresh air into his empty life.

Hearing him come closer with tentative steps, you manage not to shriek yet are unable to suppress the slight tremor shaking your body anyways.

During the few nights he had spent here, the priest at least had the decency to sleep on the floor - but now you feel the mattress sink under his weight as he slouched on the edge of the bed. He quietly watches you for a while before folding his hands in his lap, uttering a barely audible prayer...asking the Lord's forgiveness for his deeds.

As the back of his hand barely strokes your cheek you cannot help but wince, and he finally lets out a deep, saddened sigh. "Ah know ye're awake, lamb..."

Your eyes gloss with tears as soon as they snap open, the sight filling him with shame and guilt. He tries to make himself appear as harmless as possible, an impossible feat even without the given circumstance.

"It's awright" he finally wrings out, his usual eloquence failing him. "Ah'm no' gonnae hurt ye." You nod wordlessly. Surely he won't. He didn't do it before, and never gave you any reason to believe he would.

Quite the opposite, even: He could so easily achieve your submission through violence, and yet he was nothing but gentle.

That fact didn't make your current situation any less frightening.

"It wis a lang day" you hear him whisper after what felt like an eternity of silence, sounding uncertain with himself. "Can ah lie wi' ye, please?"

Please. Such a soft word yet coming across sharp like one of his blades. He wasn't giving you an option, not really. Saying so was mere courtesy and maybe a bit of pity as well. It almost felt like he was taunting you, a harsh reminder that there was absolutely nothing you had control over anymore.

There is no chance, no other way but to yield to this, to him.

"Of course." Trying to calm your racing heartbeat as you pat the empty spot next to you, playing your part by beckoning him over. "Come here."

Anderson lets out a relieved sob, like your consent was absolving him in some way, as if it wasn't forced by the sheer power imbalance alone. Still, he is hesistant to do as he was told, even though he had dreamt of that exact moment for so long already.

He's not delusioned, he's aware exactly of the severity of it all.

But this once he'd allow himself to get lost in the moment, shoving his awareness of those wicked actions far back into his disturbed mind.

The bed is small, even without you there it wouldn't allow him to stretch out fully, so at least partially your bodies were huddled up against each other. You can feel him shuffle uncomfortably as he tries to give you space, so you decide to have mercy on him and take the initiative, leading his arms around your middle.

Anderson lets out a surprised gasp, his eyes sparling in meek wonder as he crushes your body tightly against his.

His strenght is impossible to ignore, inhuman and titanous. You were trapped in an iron grip, able to sense his barely contained force even though he was touching you with the utmost gentleness. He was touching you like you were made out of porcellain and compared to his power you might as well be.

It was like a steel vice around your waist, inescapable and suffocating.

You feel his breath rapid and shuddering, his hands trembling as they rest on your stomach. Having this beast of a man present himself so very much at your mercy stirrs something inside of you, a mixture of overwhelming emotions making your blood boil.

How dare he.

The audacity of acting like this after the cruelty of tearing you out of your old life and forcefully implanting you into his own was simply unbearable.

Out of a whim you straddle his waist and he inhales sharply, his pupils dilating at the action. He looks so helpless and desperate like this, it disgusts you.

"Why?" you ask, despite knowing no matter what, the answer won't be sufficient. It can't change anything. "Why me?"

"…whit can I say? Ah have no excuse or reason." It's the first time you see this resilient man cry, and much to your horror you feel yourself tearing up in sympathy. "There was no other way for someone like me tae have ye…I just-I need ye in ma life. Ah' couldn't stand another day without ye. I'm so sorry fur causin' ye this pain,… but I love ye, I really do."

A loud noise drang to your ear when you slapped him with all your might at this pitiful confession and how it made you feel nonetheless - yet he wouldn't budge in the slightest, instead gazing up to you with an unfaltering adoration in his eyes.

"Do whitiver ye want wi' me" he pronounces genuinely, blissful even. "Ah dinnae think ye understand just how much ye mean tae me, or whit lengths ah'm willin' to go to, to keep ye safe an' happy."

"...I think I might be starting to." Your voice is indifferent, defeated, as is your expression. You capture his lips in a kiss and he visibly breaks down beneath you, sobbing countless apologies as he held you oh so carefully in his arms.

What breaks you most however is how you've slowly come to terms with the idea of accepting what he offers - a bond that should've never existed, yet so intense it defied all probability and logic.

You'll try to love him.

[littlesparklight]

The... idk, but "oddness" of, yeah, I think of Paris as "Paris" and obviously talk of him using that name. And use "Paris" for him when he's my POV character in fic. (But other characters, like Helen and Menelaos, usually use Alexander unless it's an AU where 'Paris' is the only name I'm using for Paris.)

BUT, I am also absolutely attached to and think "Alexander" is very important for his character! I hate it when translations of the Iliad replace all the Alexanders with "Paris"! Partially because Paris occurs so rarely in the Iliad itself, so it feels... I don't know, but it just feels odd to me to decide to replace it? And aside from that it's just interesting that Alexandros IS used so much more often than "Paris" is in the Iliad.

It's interesting that Alexander is used by basically everyone else at all times. Interesting that you can't, actually (as some academics have tried) reduce it to "Alexander is his 'international' name and Paris is his Trojan one". The absolute proof against that would be that Hektor uses Alexander in his own head during the lead-in to the duel against Achilles and Paris when he says Apollo and, well, Paris will be the ones to kill him to Achilles!

I love the idea/"solution" that one name was given by his parents (even if/especially because he was going to be killed) as an infant and that Agelaos gave him another. And I like/prefer that the name Hekuba and Priam gave him is Alexander, exactly because how it's used in the Iliad.

And sure, Paris became the name so much more popular to use for him, even just in Antiquity. But even then Alexander was still used by some authors, sometimes to exclusion. You can't just TAKE THAT AWAY, is my feeling about it. He's Alexander/Alexandros as much as he's Paris!!

[professionalfanatic]

It's been two hundred years since Magnus Bane lost his husband. Two hundred years since he'd lost the love of his life, Alexander Gideon Lightwood.

Magnus stood, looking out at the starry lights of the busy New York City. The streets were brimming with life, and the sounds were deafening as always. The horns of the cars, the screeches of the brakes, the low hum of people talking, they were all just the same as they had been two hundred years ago.

Strange how everything had changed and remained unchanged at the same time.

Magnus cradled his half filled wine glass lovingly. Once upon a time he would have done that to Alec's face, and would have pressed a kiss to his forehead. But now Alec was gone.

He looked down at the letter on the table. He wanted to read it, and throw it away, both at the same time. Magnus closed his eyes, feeling the familiar prickling behind his eyes. He bit his lip hard, almost drawing blood.

Did he have the courage to read the last letter Alec had left him?

Before Alec had died, he'd given Magnus a huge bundle of letters. He'd been on his deathbed at the time, the Brothers having declared that there was nothing they could do to save Alec's life. Alec had smiled at Magnus, and had told him to open the second drawer of his bedside cabinet. Once Magnus had discovered the letters there, Alec had whispered that he hoped the letters to help. And then he had closed his beautiful blue eyes forever, leaving Magnus with a bundle of letters and a lifetime of wonderful memories.

He'd gone, leaving Magnus to grieve for eternity.

Magnus's throat burned, and he inhaled sharply. Alec's death still hurt like a sword stabbed through his heart.

He'd read the first letter, the one with the simple sentence on the envelope saying when you miss me.

He had been missing Alec so much that he had been almost suffocating with the pain. His heart had been aching, as if someone was twisting the invisible knife in his chest. He was almost gasping for breath and he wanted nothing more than to die, to end this numbing pain.

And then he'd read Alec's letter.

" My dear,

My own Magnus, " it had read, "This letter is for you when you miss me. Miss me dreadfully.

Your heart must be wrenching with pain, and it must be difficult for you to breathe. The pain must be intense, and you'd surely be wanting to die, and just end everything. That's what I felt when Jace died.

But, Magnus, I haven't left you. I'm still here, I'm still here with you. And do you know how you could see me? Close your eyes, Magnus, and whisper my name. You'll see me then. Because you see, I didn’t leave you. I'm still alive, in your heart, and in all the memories we made together. "

At the end of the letter Magnus had sobbed his heart out, clutching the letter so hard that it had ripped in half. His heart felt as if it had splintered into a million smithereens.

But he had felt a little better. The ache of not seeing Alec would never go away, but it had lessened. Enough for him to go on living at least.

And the letters had helped. Alec had written one for every occasion.

He'd written one for when Magnus is so angry he wanted to burn the world down. A letter filled with the soothing love which always made Magnus calm down. Magnus thought he heard Alec's soft voice when he read it, easing his boiling anger, just how a lullaby would comfort a toddler.

Alec had written one for when he is so sad that he couldn’t function. When he fell into a black hole and couldn’t find his way out at all. Alec's letter cheered him just the way Alec had always did. How he always reminded him that there were always good things in this world.

And there was another letter. A letter full of reassurance when Magnus depreciated himself, hated everything about his existence. Hated his demon eyes, hated his magic, and felt that no one could ever love a filthy Downworlder like him. Alec swept those misgivings away with his loving and caring letter, just like he'd done when he had been alive.

Another one for the time he'd first smiled after Alec's death. He'd seeked comfort in Alec's letter after feeling unbelievably guilty for enjoying something without Alec. For being happy without his Alec. Being happy after the man he loved died. Alec's letter filled with joy and laughter lighted up Magnus's bleak life.

And so the letters had gone on.

Magnus had read them over the past two centuries, reminding himself again and again as to why he'd fallen in love with the blue eyed Shadowhunter.

But when he'd woken up that morning, he had closed his eyes, and had tried to imagine his Alec, he hadn't been able to. He still lived in his heart, but the image wasn't clear. It was hazy, a sort of warm feeling you keep close to your heart. You remember the gist, but the fine details have faded.

Magnus remembered how Alec had laughed when he was with Jace and Isabelle, but he couldn’t clearly recall how deep his laugh was. He knew Alec smelled wonderful, but what he exactly smelled like, he couldn’t bring to memory. He knew he loved the way Alec kissed him, but he couldn’t remember exactly how Alec did so. Whether he leaned in first, or stroked a thumb across his cheek first. He knew Alec tasted sweet, but like what, he didn’t remember.

And he knew Alec had the bluest eyes possible, bluer than the ocean, than the sky, and even more than his magic, but Magnus couldn’t remember the exact shade.

He had sat on his bed, shocked and shaken to the core, scared that if he would forget these details, small ones, yes, but the ones which made Alec, well, Alec, he'd forget something else. Something important. And, this hurt him more than anything, that Alec would finally fade into a distant memory, a warm and welcome one he'd think only on his hard days.

And Alec, his dear sweet Alec, he knew that this would happen eventually. So he'd left a letter, his very last letter addressed with a simple when you forget the exact shade of my eyes.

Magnus had never really believed that he'd forget Alec's eyes. Their exact colour and shape. He had believed himself to have a better memory, that he'd remember those gems which had attracted him to Alec in the first place. But he'd forgotten. It had taken him two hundred years, but yes. He'd forgotten.

Taking a deep breathe, Magnus took the letter with shaking hands. He ran a light finger over the cursive writing on the envelope, reliving the way Alec looped his ys with a sad smile. He tore open the envelope and pulled the letter out, a much bigger one than the others, and began to read it.

Magnus had expected it to be a letter with sad reproachings. But he was wrong, of course he was wrong. How could he have thought that his Alec would ever even think of hurting him?

Alec's letter was filled with joy, happiness and warmth, just like him. Magnus felt his lips tugging into a teary smile seeing the pictures Alec had enclosed in his letter. The first one they'd taken together as a couple. Alec was clutching Magnus's hand with a determined smile, a glint in those blue eyes of his, challenging anyone who'd dare say anything against him. Magnus had been incredibly proud of Alec, his boyfriend for standing up against all the prejudices of the Nephilium.

The next picture was the one they'd taken in India. The one where Magnus had worn a saree. Alec had laughed so hard that tears had escaped from his eyes. He had looked at Magnus, his blue eyes crinkled and his mouth open in a little gasp. He had looked absolutely stunning, and for the first time in centuries Magnus had felt his heart skip a beat. And that had been the moment he had realised that there was no going back. He'd fallen for this man so hard that he hadn't realised it until he hit rock bottom.

Magnus choked back a sob when he looked at the picture of them cuddling Max together. Alec was holding him close to his chest, caring for their most precious treasure. Max was smiling up at Alec, waving his tiny blue arms. Alec's eyes were filled with the warmth and wonder at seeing Max, their Max, their baby smile at him.

And then all that was left was the last picture. With trembling hands Magnus picked it up and stared at it.

It was a picture of their wedding.

Underneath it, Alec had written one small sentence.

The happiest day of my life.

Magnus stared at it until he couldn’t see clearly,  making him realise that tears were flowing from his eyes.

Alec.

His husband Alec.

Magnus remembered how nervous Alec had been when he'd proposed to him. He had twisted and turned his hands so much that Magnus had been afraid of him actually breaking a bone. He'd bitten his lip, drawing blood, and had let out a series of shaky breaths.

But when he'd finally pushed the question forward, Magnus had searched Alec's eyes, and those blue orbs had shone with nothing but certainty and conviction.

It had taken Magnus less than a second to say yes.

And the wedding, Magnus looked at the picture, looking at how handsome Alec was, wearing a black tuxedo with gold and blue lining. Gold to symbolise Nephilium, and blue for Magnus's warlock lineage.

The wedding of the century, they'd called it. The union of a Nephilium and a Downworlder, of an Angel and Demon, but above all, the union of two souls who loved each other with all their hearts.

As a tear slipped down his cheek, Magnus read the last part of Alec's letter.

And one day, again, you'll fall for someone else. Love someone with that beautiful heart of yours. And that should happen, Magnus. For you're an extraordinary man, and it has always been my greatest privilege and joy to love and to be loved by a man like you. The best gift Raziel ever bestowed on me.

And when you fall for someone else, love another, give them your entire heart. Fall in love again, and again, and never close of your heart.

Don't fear betraying me, love, and never think our story will be forgotten. It shall forever be written in the stars, and most importantly your heart.

I'm happy to have been part of your life, Magnus.

Tear drops decorated the letter when Magnus finished reading. Drawing a trembling breathe in, he collected all the letters Alec had ever left him, and cuddled them to his chest, pretending that it was Alec he was holding close to him. And in a way, he was. Alec had poured his entire soul into those letter.

Of course their story would forever be remembered. Even when Alec faded into a distant memory, a warm yet unreachable one, he'd live forever in Magnus's heart.

After all, how could he forget the man who taught him to love again?

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

My first ever fanfic! Wrote this when I was obsessed with Malec. Just some thoughts of Magnus after Alec's death. :)

[themultifandomgal]

Tommy Shelby- Out Of The Blue Pt2

Pt1 Pt3

Weeks pass by and Tommys teasing about YNs fiancé don't let up. In fact the more trips he took to London the more Tommys words stuck in her mind 'he obviously has a whore'. Doubt sets in her mind, was he actually away on business or was he with another woman?

Walking into the betting shop YN puts her bag down and pulls her coat of placing on the chair behind her desk. Tommy immediately walks out of his office

"YN I nee you to go to the garrison. Tell Harry I have a meeting there tonight 6:30"

"I've just walked in" YN groans

"Don't care" Tommy walks back into his office. YN puts her coat back on muttering about how Tommy actually hates her and does all of this on purpose.

When arriving at the garrison she hears a woman asking for her fiancé

"Excuse me but do you know where I might find Mr Alexander?" she asks Harry

"Why are you looking for my fiancé?" YN asks frowning

"Oh hello I'm his wife"

"Wife?!" YN shouts "don't you mean ex wife?"

"No. I'm his wife you must be YN YLN?"

"Yes. How do you know my name?"

"Well you didn't really think my George actually loves you right? Your in with the Shelby's am I not correct?"

"Your just some crazy ex girlfriend or ex wife who is trying to scare me off. Harry Tommy said he has a meeting tonight" YN turns around and leaves the Garrison and begins to make her way back to the betting shop.

That evening YN arrives home. She can hear George's voice, but he's not alone there's someone else here

"You can't just show up here. You could ruin everything!" George shouts. Not taking of her coat, frowning YN gently closes the front door and quietly makes her way to her shared bedroom where the voices are coming from

"You've been at this for over a year now. I thought you would have made your move by now"

"Are you jealous?"

"Of her? No, but do I like the idea of my husband warming another woman's bed even if he is just trying to get to the Shelby's? Yes of course it bothers me" YN feels like she's going to be sick hearing this

"Fine. I'll do it tonight. Tonight is the night I kill Thomas Shelby" a lump forms in YNs throat and her feet are immediately carrying her towards the Shelby's residence.

Knocking on the door Polly answers

"What are you...."

"Where's Tommy?" YN frantically asks

"At the garrison having his meeting"

"Shit"

"What's going on?"

"My fiancé is married and is only using me to kill Tommy and probably all of you"

"Did you know!" Polly shouts

"I wouldn't be stood here panicking if I knew Polly. Look I have to go warn him"

YN has never run so fast in her life. Arriving at the Garrison she doesn't care that Tommy is in the middle of a meeting. She bursts through the door panting

"YN what the fuck are you doing?"

"I'm so sorry Tommy I didn't know"

"Didn't know what?"

"YN what's wrong?" Johns soothing voice says

"It's George"

"What the fuck has he done?" John shouts anger laced in his voice "has he hurt you?"

"We'll fucking kill 'im" Arthur yells

"YN what is going on?" Tommy asks

"George. He's already married. He's been using me. He's coming to kill you all"

"Why are you only just telling us? Are you involved?" Tommy stands

"What no of course not. I just found out"

"John take YN home, Arthur..."

"No!" YN shouts "I can't go home. That's where they are"

"Fine. Stay here. John let's go"

It's been 30 minutes since the Shelby's left. YN sits at the bar waiting for them to return. Every time she hears the door of the Garrison open she looks hoping that her best friend and his brothers are walking in. But her heart drops every time, so by now she's given up looking at the door and just focus's on her drink in hand. Suddenly she jumps hearing what sounds like a gun shot going off. Looking up she sees him there, George. If he's here then where are the Shelby's?

"Tommy Shelby!" he shouts. So he doesn't know they went after him "where the fuck is he?

George points the gun at me "YN where is he?"

"I... I don't know"

"Fuck. You weren't meant to be here" YN frown getting off her chair

"Why? So you could kill the Shelby's then leave with their money to go back to your wife?"

"How do you..."

"Know? Because I walked into our house and heard everything"

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" he shouts "this wasn't supposed to happen like this. This is your fucking fault" that's when YN feels a burning sensation in her abdomen and heard a ringing in her ears.

[rom-e-o]

I've always wondered how Connie and Scrooge (modern or otherwise) would react to my Percival and Thorne, considering how different they are as characters and the whole 'Marley is NOT dead to begin with and is also Scrooge's husband' thing.

Here's Percival's notes from my Google docs:

Born to Zachariah Winthrop Scrooge and Kathleen Quill Scrooge, conceived in a drunken tryst gone wrong, Ebenezer is the co-CEO of his and Jacob’s multinational, multi-billion pound tech conglomerate, Asplex Industries. Known as the Shark of London in the world of business, Ebenezer is renowned for his cunning and ruthlessness, tied only with his terrifyingly true ability in the art of inventing high-quality technological innovations, closer to the realm of madness.

And here's Thorne's:

Born to Gene Thorne and Lilith Knight under the name Alexander Thorne, and adopted by Abel and Lenore Marley at ten-years-old, Jacob is the co-CEO of his and Ebenezer’s multinational, multi-billion pound tech conglomerate, Asplex Industries. Known as the Snake of London, Jacob is known for his charismatic nature and silver tongue, able to predict market trends with incredible ease and convincing subsidiaries to sign with them by speaking only the truth.

I don't really touch upon it too much on the fic, though I will get back to rewriting it I SWEAR, but Percival ends up getting back on good terms with Belle and her husband Richard (Dick Wilkins) who were childhood friends of both him and Thorne.

And we also know how Percival ALMOST fucked up his relationship with Thorne (*cough* Percival didn't think they were married because it wasn't legal in England before 2015 but Thorne did and Thorne thought Percival didn't love him and that this was all transactional *cough)

They get therapy don't worry

Honestly I feel like Connie and Scrooge would see Percival and Thorne very differently, and Connie herself would feel some level of kinship with Thorne thanks to her experiences with Orin.

But honestly those are just some of my thoughts ngl- ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Ooooh, this is such a fun question! There would be some interest, for certain.

My Scrooge and Connie’s personalities from their modern to classic renditions don’t vary too much in disposition (aside from their speech patterns, the presence of different amenities, etc.) so I feel both sets would react similarly in both timelines, but differently from each other, haha.

My version of Scrooge tends to lean a bit introverted, is a slight (intense) perfectionist, and can be a little shy and skittish. Some might even call him nervous, but only in his personal life, because romance is so new to him again, and it’s been a long time since he’s wanted anyone in his life. He doesn’t want to mess anything up. Professionally, he’s always charming, well-spoken, and a true gentleman. Handsome, too. An Adonis, which is his nickname, haha.

I think he’d see Percival and Thorne, firstly, with intrigue. His business partner is still alive, and they’re … together? When I started “Begin Again” I decided to make it vague if Scrooge and Marley were business partners or more, and to what degree. Their relationship is left extremely vague. After Isabel, he really had ONLY Marley as companionship. So, a version of him and Marley being a couple is not a concept that completely blindsides him. I hc him and Connie as both bi/pan (especially because Scroogey has so many lovers and OCs that love him across universes - it just feels right.)

I think he’d ask how he was still alive, and if there really was something he could have done to save his partner (in the classic verse or modern verse.)

Finding out about the car accident and aftermath would remind him of his own redemption, and I think he’d find comfort in knowing that he was given a second chance across many timelines. And seeing him reconnect with Belle and Dick, something he has yet to do in the modern verse but has in the classical one (I am in the same boat of needing to get back to writing fics, including this one, so I feel you lmao) would give him reassure.

“I must say, our backgrounds of ruthlessness are…similar. Your resilience is inspiring."

As for Thorne, I think he'd want to learn more about him and kind of compare him to the Marley he knows. How similar are they? He's got the same charisma, that's for certain.

The funny thing? My Scrooge LOVES sparkling water, and Thorne finds it refreshing, as we’ve learned from their dinner date. For some reason, I see him feeling victorious.

A: Haha, finally, someone else who understands that is a perfectly lovely beverage. Please continue to give your husband grief.

C: Darling! You shouldn’t inspire a married couple to fight. Especially you and Marley.

A: Normally, I wouldn’t, but like you said, it’s a version of me from another universe. Fair game, my dear. Trust me, we’ve all earned our fair share of teasing. 😌

Speaking of Connie, she’s never met Marley, but she’s heard stories upon stories. To meet him from another would would be like meeting a celebrity!

I think she would find kinship with Thorne, exactly like you said, because of what she faced with Orin. Also, he provides Percival with love and companionship, and they become a couple and family.

She adores Ebenezer, so to know that he found love in that universe with another, let along one he has such a storied past with, brings her happiness.

"I'm glad he's loved in your universe too." <3

Also, Connie finds out about the boxing, and begs to be taught, haha. She only know pilates, and promises to be a good student. "I have an ex-husband I may need to punch one day. Can you give me some pointers?"

I feel like I just barely scratched the surface, but I think there is a lot of fun stuff these four could get up to, haha.

I totally feel you about fic writing, haha. It's always worth the wait when you publish (the characterization, the banter, the imagery ... top-tier across the board), so please don't worry about taking those beats to make sure you love it! I will be SO READY to keep reading those updates!

[cipher00]

I come bearing a gift!

Alexander Anderson/Reader Smut

Aphrodisiacs

Tags:

Breeding Kink

Biting Kink

Dom!Alexander

Sub!Reader

Dirty talk

NSFW under the cut! Do not proceed if you're under 18!

He'd been acting distant from you all day. Your dear sweet Alexander had hardly spoke to you, much less come near you. You didn't know what was up with him, but you were determined to find out. It wasn't normal for him to act this way, especially not to you. You were his beloved, and you'd been that to him ever since he left the church years ago. You were his respite, his solace, and everything beautiful in life. Those were his words, anyway.

 

You were sitting on the couch in the living room, absentmindedly watching TV as you pondered what you should do. He had holed himself up in your shared bedroom, not even coming out for food when you knocked and told him that dinner was ready. Not even a reply. You would've assumed he was sleeping, were it not for the faint sounds of shuffling within the room. 

 

You considered going up to check on him, but if he was avoiding you like this for this long, he probably had a good reason for it. You didn't believe he would just avoid you for the hell of it. He was always affectionate towards you, from wrapping his arms around your waist while you cooked, to small things like twining his fingers with yours while you both watched the TV. Still, you couldn't help but be worried. You continued to stare at the TV, not really paying attention to what was going on in the show, debating on what you should do.

 

 

 

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

Alexander was restless inside of the little bedroom you both shared. He didn't like hiding away from you, but he sure as hell wasn't going to get close to you while he was like this. He didn't know what this feeling was, only the thoughts and images it plagued his mind with. It was unrelenting, almost uncontrollable, and it made him want to do... Less than holy things to you, to say the very least. He must have drank something he shouldn't have at the pub he visited, he figured. Earlier, he'd been out having a drink with some acquaintances, but this feeling hadn't really raged until he'd gotten home. Until he'd gotten near you. When you embraced him when he walked through the door, a white hot sensation had surged through him. Though he was the one in your embrace, he almost felt the desire to pounce on you. That's when he noticed something was wrong. He was always careful and gentle with you, given how strong he was, and how much bigger he was than you. 

 

He locked himself inside of your room shortly after. He wasn't entirely sure what this was, but he wasn't going to let it be the cause of harm towards you. He was going to stay up there, and wait this out. It would be easy.

 

That is what he thought, until he heard the sound of your footsteps coming up the stairs, followed by a call of his name. 

 

"Alex? You've been up there all day... Are you alright? Is there anything you want to talk about?" 

 

Of course you were worried about him, sweet little thing you were. It was adorable how you were concerned for his wellbeing, wanting to take care of him.

 

Though now, he'd like for you to take care of him in a different way. He'd just love to hear your voice wrapped around his name with a different tone of voice...

 

Stop.

 

He scolded himself internally, for allowing his thoughts to dip into that territory. It wasn't like sex between the two of you was a completely foreign concept, but in the few times prior, he was always very gentle, treating you like you might break. Which, was a very real possibility given his size and strength. You were so small, he really didn't want to accidentally hurt you, especially during something as intimate and as special as that kind of encounter between the two of you. 

 

But, despite knowing this, he couldn't stop the ideas that were trickling through his head, threatening to burst into actions if he didn't have more self control. In his thoughts, he'd have loved nothing more than to have you beneath him, trembling and begging for him to fill you up, taking you how he pleased while you took it like the good girl he knew you were. 

 

He once again shook himself out of this train of thought quickly. He couldn't- No, wouldn't do that to you. He didn't even know if you liked that sort of thing, if you'd even be okay with it. What if you saw him akin to some depraved animal? He wasn't going to have that, and he sure as hell wasn't going to have the possibility of hurting you. 

He'd just do this himself, if that's what it took to make this feeling go away. Right now he didn't care how sinful it was, how much it would've sullied his reputation with the church had anyone from his life years ago known this.

 

Even if they did find out somehow, he would've preferred that to the prospect of hurting you. 

 

What he had forgotten, however, was that you'd just come up the stairs to check on him. 

 

And you were outside the door.

 

 

 

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

You were really starting to worry about Alexander. He didn't even come out for dinner, and he always loved it when you cooked for him. The sun had set quite a while ago, and still no word from him. You would've thought he was sleeping, were it not for the fact he was an insomniac. Most nights he couldn't even sleep, but he was just content to hold you close to him, listening to the soothing sound of your peaceful breathing.

 

... Wait.

 

The sound you heard from the other side of the bedroom door also sounded like breathing, but it was anything but peaceful. It was ragged, shaky breaths. Now you were really worried. What if he was sick, or upset, or-

 

Oh.

 

The sound of a quiet, muffled groan pulled you out of your racing thoughts. He was most definitely not sick. 

 

Blush rose to your cheeks as you realized the situation. That suddenly made a whole lot more sense, so you thought. Perhaps he was pent up, and didn't want to take out any frustrations on you. You knew he handled you carefully for fear of breaking you, and he often wouldn't initiate because he didn't want to seem like he was trying to demand it from you, even though that's the opposite of how it came off. But still, he was always careful, always mindful. And even during sex, he'd refuse to let go any. His hands would tremble as he balled them up into the sheets, threatening to rip them through. Rather the sheets, which were replaceable, than you.

 

You figured this was the case, and you were half right. What you didn't know was he locked himself away in an attempt to save you from himself, or rather what he may do if he were to lose his self control. The good Lord knew how tempting you could be, how even when he wasn't under the effect of this aphrodisiac, you'd stir up thoughts he'd kept shoved down. Thoughts of making you submit to him, of pure indulgence in his darkest fantasies about you. He was only a man after all, and definitely not immune to your charms. 

 

You contemplated what to do. On one hand, this was extremely private, and even though you were his girlfriend, you shouldn't intrude on his business like this.

 

On the other hand, the sounds he was making was extremely fucking hot. You weren't going to lie to yourself about that. 

 

...Fuck it.

 

You were going to get in that room, and see if you could change his mindset about you being fragile. You could handle more than he gave you before. You could handle him letting loose a bit. At least, you thought so.

 

No better time than the present to find out. 

 

And even if you couldn't, you knew the experience was going to be 100% worth it.

 

You dug around in your pocket, finding the key to your bedroom and inserting it into the handle. Before you turned it, you knocked on the door gently. "Alex? I'm gonna come in, okay?" You heard scrambling, and some muffled protests as you turned the handle. You peeked your head into the room. It was dark, except for the ray of light that had entered from the slightly open door. 

 

There, on the bed, sat a very disheveled, embarassed looking Alexander. His face was flushed, his glasses askew, and his breathing hard. It looked like he was trying to cover himself, but he was having a difficult time. You could see his hands shaking as he gripped the sheets, trying to pull them over himself. Even with that dazed look on his face, he looked like a deer caught in headlights. His chest rose and fell quickly as his eyes scanned over you.

 

You looked so...

 

Your face reddened as you took in the sight of him. Sporting a very obvious hard on, even with his attempt at covering it with the sheet. That look of desperation on his face, the hazy look in his eyes. "Do you, ah... Need help?" You asked sheepishly. Alex's eyes darted away from yours, a look of shame crossing his face. "Ye weren' supposed te see me like this." He muttered, twisting and untwisting his hands into the sheets out of nervousness. Great, now you'd think he was no better than some animal. He'd done it this time.

 

You laughed lightly, a hand coming up to rub the back of your neck. "It's not like I mind... To be honest, you look... Really good like this." You admitted, trying to meet his gaze, but his eyes were still avoiding you. "I can help...? If you'd like me to?" He was surprised for a moment. You... Didn't think poorly of him for this? He was sure that this would lower your opinion of him. Masturbating was still pretty much a foreign concept to him; the nuns that raised him had drilled it into his head that it was something disgraceful. But here you were, even wanting to help him with this?

 

He wanted to say yes so badly, but still...

 

He shook his head, his stare fixed on the floor. Despite the fact you wanted to do this with him, he couldn't look at you out of a mix of shame and embarrassment. "I... Drank somethin' I shouldn' have at the pub earlier today. I don't know wha' it was, bu' it has this really strong effect. I locked myself away to keep from hurting you by accident." 

 

'Hurt me? What-'

 

Oh.

 

Ohhhh.

 

"So, let me get this straight." You began. "You basically drank an aphrodisiac, and you've kept your distance from me so you wouldn't give in, accidentally hurt me?"

 

Damn.

 

It was a little embarrassing when you said it aloud. 

 

"...Yes, exactly. I wan' to do so many things to ye." The red on your face deepened. "Bu' I could never forgive myself if I hurt ye. Yer such a small thing compared teh me. I can barely even keep my self control together around ye righ' now," He admitted. You shivered at the implication. You said nothing, but stepped further into the room and closed the door behind you. 

 

His eyes slowly readjusted to the darkness, with the help of a ray of moonlight shining through the window. You were bathed in soft white light, and he saw you approach him slowly. "Wha' are ye doing?" The bed shifted with your weight as you crawled towards him. "I want to prove you wrong. I can take more than you think I can." You settled on his stomach, cupping his face with both your hands as you kissed him. It started off slow, but turned into something much hungrier. His large hands ghosted over your hips tentatively, shaking violently. He was trying so hard to hold back, still scared that he was going to break you if he gave in.

 

Alex was breathing heavily when you drew back from him, and in the dull light of the room, you could see the hazy look in his eyes. Pure lust. You moved your mouth to his neck, pulling at the skin lightly with your teeth. He let out a hiss as his hands finally settled on your hips, squeezing lightly. Just a bit more...

 

"I'm not going to break, Alex. And even if you did rough me up, to be honest... I'd probably like it." He tightened his grip on your hips, and you smiled. "I want you to be able to let go with me. I want you to have your way with me." You pressed another kiss to his lips, before meeting his heated gaze. "Please?" 

 

Oh, he couldn't keep it together after that. How could he when you asked like that? He planted one hand on the back of your head, pulling you back to him to meet him in another kiss, this one much more heated than the first. You whined, pressing your body firmly against his. He reacted immediately, a low groan rumbling in his throat as he slid you down so you'd be sitting in his lap. He ground his cock against your clothed heat, causing a gasp to slip from you. 

 

"Ye feel that, sweetheart? Tha's all because of yeh. Can hardly resist ye, pretty little thing." You squirmed in his lap, arousal filling your core. He was painfully hard, and you could feel that even through your clothes.

 

God, you wanted that inside of you.

 

"Shit, Alex," You whispered, pressing your hips down harder into his, trying to get more friction. He smirked at you, watching your expression change from coy to something needier. "Yeh're such a needy girl. And just for me? I'm truly blessed." His statement flustered you, causing you to look away, but he wasn't having any of that. He gripped your chin with his hand, pulling your gaze back to him. "Look a' me. I wan' ta see tha' pretty face of yours when I make ye see the pearly gates." You whined, keeping your eyes on him like he wanted. "Good girl. Such an obedient little thing," He purred.

 

Fuck, that sent a spike of heat shooting right through you. Alexander noticed how it affected you when he heard your breath hitch. He smiled at you mischievously.

 

Oh no.

 

"Wha' was that? Ye like it when I praise ye, hmm?" You were so flustered, but you didn't look away, per his previous instructions. "If tha's the case..." He brought one of your hands up to his lips, kissing your palm before continuing. 

 

"Yeh're so beau'iful, so good fer me. Not a day goes by tha' I don' think how lucky I am to have such a sweet little thing all to myself. Beau'iful when yeh're not even tryin'. When yeh're sleepin, enjoyin yer hobbies..." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper.

 

"When yeh're stuffed full o' my cock..." 

 

You let out a quiet moan at that, the heat in your abdomen growing as you tried more and more to grind against him, but he held you firmly in place. "Alex..." You whimpered. "Yeees, my love?" He drawled. "I want it." He raised his eyebrows at you, an absolutely devious look on his face. "Already? I've barely even touched ye, and yeh want me that much?" He didn't say it, but he wanted you far more than you knew right now. He loved to tease you, but he wasn't going to be able to keep this up for much longer. The aphrodisiac was still burning strong in his veins, and having you all over him had only made it worse.

 

"Well, you can't just say stuff like that and expect me not to." You admit, quickly pulling your shirt off and throwing it somewhere in the room. For once, Alex was grateful for your impatience. That, and he loved just how eager you were for him. "You're so fucking sexy when you talk like that..." You murmur, raising up from his lap so you could wriggle out of your pants. You went to unclasp your bra, but he stopped you.

 

"Let me. I wan' ta unwrap this little present yeh've brought me." You nodded, and he curled his arms around you to undo the clasp. It fell away from your chest, exposing you more to him. You shivered, the cool air of the room hitting you fully. He chuckled, lowering his face to your chest. "Ye cold? Poor little thing. Tha's alright, ye won' be fer much longer." He connected his lips with one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around it as his free hand went up to knead your other breast softly. You sighed, tangling one of your hands into his hair, your nails scratching his scalp lightly. He groaned, giving a light suck to your bud.

 

Once you started giving breathy whines, he moved on. He held you, swapping your positions. You were lying back into the pillows, and his face was between your thighs, giving soft nips to your lovely skin. 

 

He was going to have to prep you for him; He was proportionate to his size, and that was large. He towered over you easily, being over seven feet. He knew you'd struggle regardless, but he wanted to at least avoid discomfort for you where he could help it.

 

Your underwear was the last thing in his way, and you'd completely soaked those through. He hummed a laugh, before slowly pulling them down your thighs. "Ye look much prettier without these." He tossed the offending garment, and now there was nothing to cover you up. He spread your legs wider, putting your soaking cunt on full display for him. "Damn, sweetheart... Yeh're so wet fer me..." He groaned, taking in the sight of you. Your arousal was leaking down your thighs, and being completely exposed to Alexander just made your core throb in anticipation.

 

He swiped a finger up your slit, collecting some of your moisture before bringing it to his lips, tasting you. This just made you hotter as you watched him, wide eyed. "Ye taste so sweet. So sweet, just fer me." He whispered, before giving full attention to what was in front of him. "You can't just say things like- AaH!" Your sentence was cut short as he licked a stripe from the bottom of your hole to the top, before dipping his tongue into your soaked entrance experimentally. You placed one of your hands on the back of his head, trying to bring him closer to you, but he took both of your hands and held them firmly by your sides. 

 

"If I recall correctly, ye wanted me ta have my way with yeh. So, yeh're goin ta take wha' I give ye." 

 

Fuck, that tone was downright sinful. His words earned him a shudder, and a curse to fall from your lips. Alex chuckled, squeezing your hands lightly. "Watch yer mouth, or I might have ta put it ta work." He warned. You whined, your hips bucking involuntarily at the thought. "Oh? Does the thought of me usin yer mouth excite yeh? Such a dirty girl. Maybe I should teach ye the right way ta behave." He growled, his reprimanding only sending more heat to your core. 

 

"Please, Alex..." You whimpered. How could he deny you when you plead like that? Especially with your honeyed voice wrapped so beautifully around his name, too.

 

Finally he indulged you, wrapping his lips around your swollen clit as he collected more of your juices on his fingers, before slipping one of them inside you. His fingers were already quite thick, so he still took care when prepping you for him. You were all but mewling, your thighs spasming next to the sides of his head as he slowly worked you. He worked one finger in and out of your tight walls, delighted as he found no resistance. You were dripping for him, and he'd barely even done much to you. 

 

God, he loved you.

 

He added another, pumping them a little faster while he attended to your sensitive bud with his tongue, unrelenting in his ministrations. His long fingers eventually found that spongy spot inside of you, brushing up against it. You moaned rather loudly, bucking your hips wildly. You didn't even mean to, but it was all beginning to become too much for your sensitive little body. 

 

"Shit, Alex, there-!" You balled up your fists in his grasp, trying to find purchase amidst what was painfully slowly building up to orgasm. You could feel him smile against you as he pushed his fingers even deeper inside, hitting that spot repeatedly. Your moans got louder, and Alexander felt your walls tightening even more around him. "Alex, I'm-" Just when the twisted up coil in your belly was about to snap, he stopped altogether, pulling his fingers out of you, and backing off from your throbbing sex.

 

"No, yeh're not. Not yet." 

 

You cried out in frustration as the tension in your core slowly ebbed way, leaving you very much unsatisfied and needing more. "Why- I was so close-" You panted, trying to sit up, but he stopped you. He got up and settled between your thighs, gripping your hips tightly. "I need ye now. And yeh're more than ready fer me." You felt the blunt head of his cock prod your entrance, finding no resistance. You eyed his cock hungrily, reminded of the sheer size of him. You're definitely glad he prepared you. He leaned down, kissing you hungrily. You reciprocated happily, running your hands over his shoulders and tangling them in his beautiful blonde hair once again.

 

His lips trailed down your neck, leaving you open mouthed kisses against your pretty, sensitive neck. You relaxed for a moment, but a cry was wrenched from you as he sunk his teeth into the juncture between your neck and shoulder lightly. You arched into his chest, your nails dragging down his sides. He bucked his hips into yours at your reaction, causing the tip of his length to slip inside your entrance with ease. You gasped, trying to push your hips into his to take more of him in, but he held you firm.

 

When he pulled back, he was met with the beautiful sight of your flushed face, half lidded eyes, and your chest rising and falling quickly with your choppy breaths. "Please Alex, I want it, want you inside." Your plea came off of a whiny exhale, and this ignited something in him. He cursed under his breath, pulling you even closer to him as he leaned down next to your ear. 

 

"Yeh'll be lucky if I can even hold back for yer sake, if ye keep talking like tha'." He muttered.

 

"Don't. I told you already I want you to let loose. I'm not gonna break, Alex. So, ruin me," You whispered, pecking a kiss to his lips. 

 

You heard him whisper to himself, something about how lucky he was as he adjusted himself, before slowly slipping into your heat. You grit your teeth as each inch entered. It did sting, and even when you felt full, he still hadn't bottomed out yet. Finally, when he was fully seated in you, you let out a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding. He stretched you out so good, and he hadn't even started moving yet. You reached a hand up, petting his hair as you waited for a moment to adjust to his massive size. Alexander gave you the most lovestruck look - There you were, beneath him, filled to the brim with his cock, taking it so well. Your hair was splayed out in a halo on the pillows, and he thought to himself that he must have been blessed, angel that you were.

 

Finally, you bucked your hips against his, signaling for him to move. He slowly pulled out, leaving only the head in, before thrusting back into your heat with earnest. You gasped at the sensation, the drag of his cock against your tight walls sending delicious waves of pleasure rolling throughout your entire body. Alexander sucked in a sharp breath, both at your noise and at the feeling of you. He spread your legs further apart, before setting a harsh pace, following your earlier instructions to ruin you. You were quickly turned into a moaning mess as his cock drove deeper into you with each meeting of your hips, rubbing up against your sweet spot and kissing your cervix. 

 

One of his hands left your hip in favor of giving attention to your clit, and your moans got even louder as jolts of electricity shot through you. "Alex-!" You cried, digging your nails into his shoulders. This only spurred him on, causing him to curse and drive himself into you even harder. You pushed your hips against his, causing him to slip in even deeper than before, causing a whimper to slip from your lips.

 

Alex looked down at where the both of you connected, watching his cock disappear into you with each thrust. You also looked down, but instead your eyes were locked onto your belly - You could see his length appear there, and this only served to add to the liquid fire coursing through your veins. "You keep doing that, you're gonna end up getting me knocked up-" You chuckled, but that was quickly replaced with a whine as his hips stuttered momentarily, but turned into him grabbing your legs, folding and pressing them upwards against your chest, so he could hit even deeper inside of you. You had no more quips; every sound that came from your mouth had devolved into incomprehensible praises and lewd noises.

 

He leaned down, so his mouth could be level with your ear. When he spoke, his voice was gruff and thick with desire. 

 

"Yeh'd look so fuckin' beau'iful, with yer belly plump with my child. Make such a lovely little wife, just fer me. Maybe I'll give ye one, yeah? I'll stuff ye so full of my seed, there's no way ye won' end up with one." He groaned, just envisioning the sight of sweet little you, with child. A family of his own, with you, his beloved. 

 

Just the thought of that made your gut stir in the best way. You released a breathy moan, your walls squeezing even tighter around his cock, and he smiled at you. "Ye like that idea too? Raising our child? Yeh'll be such a good mother, and an amazin' wife. All fer me." He captured your lips, this time the kiss being less hungrier than before, rather with more passionate fervor, and love. You reciprocated, doing the best you could to cup his cheek with your hand while your body rocked back and forth with the intensity of each roll of his hips against yours.

 

You really did love this man... The idea of having a family with him sounded like your own personal slice of heaven. 

 

Your high was building up quickly, a combination of the ideas he put in your head, and the white hot pleasure that every harsh thrust sent rolling through you. Your mind was fuzzy, at a loss for words. 'I love you's and his name tumbled repeatedly from you, your poor head not being able to conjure up many other things to say. Alexander's pace was becoming inconsistent, a mix of deep and shallow thrusts, signaling his end was also fast approaching. 

 

"A-Alex, I'm close-!" You whined, your nails scratching down his back. You were on the edge, so ready to tumble over. "Cum fer me, my love." He grunted, his voice strained as he took in that beautiful fucked out look on your face. He did that, he was the one to make you feel so blindingly good.

 

Your high hit you like a freight train, and you all but screamed as burning hot pleasure ripped through you. Your walls clamped down hard on his cock, and your release spilling over him is what caused him to reach his end. You felt his warmth flood you, making you feel so very full. 

 

Alexander was bracing himself on his arms overtop of you, hovering there in favor of falling on top of you. The both of you were panting hard, trying to catch up. Finally he pulled out of you, almost reluctantly. A final whine slipped from you as he dragged against your overstimulated walls. He watched his cum leak out of you, the sight of you being filled so full with him almost lighting him up again. He reached down, pushing a finger into you to keep the rest from leaking out. You were flustered once your mind finally caught up to where you were and what had just happened. Alex leaned in, pressing one last slow kiss to your lips. When he leaned back, he was smiling at you sheepishly. 

 

Damn, talk about a 180. He looked so embarassed after basically trying to get you pregnant.

 

...

WAITTHATWASSOMETHINGTHATHAPPENED.

 

Memories of all he'd just said flooded back to you, and you covered your face with your hands out of newfound shyness. He wanted you to be his wife? And to raise a kid with you??

 

And you didn't even dislike the idea.

 

When you uncovered your face, you were looking at very confused, but cute Alexander.

 

"Alex, sweetie. You really want to raise a kid, with me?" 

 

A genuine smile spread across your face as you watched a pretty shade of pink spread across his, all the way up to the tips of his ears. Adorable.

 

He covered part of his face with one hand, trying to hide his now flustered self as what exactly he said came back to him. "Lord, I didn' mean to say tha' out loud-" He mumbled, his voice muffled slightly by his hand. "But you diiiid," You teased. " 'I'll stuff you so full of my seed, there's no way ya won't end up with one'~" You mimicked a scottish accent, though it was pretty shoddy. He made a sound that was a cross between a laugh at your attempt at his accent, and a small noise of embarrassment. 

 

You sat up, crawling towards him as you took his hand in yours, moving it away from his face. "Hey, look at me." Alex met your gaze, almost taken aback by the sheer amount of love you looked at him with. "I'm not opposed to the idea..." You said, sheepishly. "As long as it's with you. Especially the idea of being your wife." Your tone dipped to something soft, genuine, loving. He smiled at you, so full of happiness as he pulled you into his embrace. "I love ye so much, sweetheart. How did I ever get blessed with an angel like yeh?" He murmured against your skin, littering it with small kisses. 

 

You hummed a laugh, leaning up to reach his forehead as best you could, planting a kiss on it. "I love you too, you big softie."

[black-dhalias]

Questionable Decisions

Love Triangle!Caius X Reader X Mate!Alec

This was requested by: @princessofthornsandroses

WARNING: Implied SMUT/Nudity, mentions of plague and illness, mentions of violence. AN: I know this has taken a lot longer than anticipated, but I really hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

~•~•~•~• ALEC •~•~•~•~

Your initial arrival at Volterra sparked quite the controversy amongst the Guards, they could not understand how you earned immortality. Could not fathom what good you brought to the Guard, but Lord Caius found you fascinating. Even as a human.

Before here, you knew nothing more than poverty and loss—stricken with grief and a need for vengeance. You were barely staying afloat, family ravaged by the sickness and death.

Now, you are a long standing member—not a necessary component, but you kept Lord Caius less cruel. Busy. That was necessary enough. He practically doted on you from the get go—and it drove Alec crazy.

Comparatively, Alec didn’t want to keep his distance from you—didn’t want to be away from you at all, but Lord Caius held the stronger hand. Cards on the table, Alec didn’t stand a chance and that infuriated him.

So the distance remained, it only served to push you closer to Caius; unbeknownst to you, deep down you knew you shouldn’t remain at his side. But he saved you. Turned you. Protected you. And you won’t lie, you enjoy the affection he gives. He would burn the world down if it meant you were happy. Kill anyone if you asked, without a single question.

That kind of devotion—it’s addictive.

In the same way, you were adamantly and unshakably loyal to him. Betrayal was unthinkable, and that sensation is what drove you two together. Absolute devotion. Even his wife, his trophy that sits in the tower, could not fathom it.

The grand doors open to reveal you to the throne room, burning the room with a cataclysmic grin. One that sends shockwaves through Alec, sets him on fire without a single touch. Painfully aware of you, struck with pique interest. Both healed and hurt by your presence.

“Y/N…” Your name rolls off Caius tongue, even sung by the worst of men—it sounds like a choir of angels. Alec cannot help, but wonder how you would say his name; would it wash over him? Would he be able to fight the urge to take you into his arms, leave this castle with you tucked away from Caius. Where Alec does not have to wonder what happens when the palace turns dark.

Alec would never worry again.

Faster than a blink, you are beside Caius without another word—smiling at him with perfect contentment. The eldest twin averts his eyes, the tiles had become a sanctuary away from the image of you.

If this is love, then Alec surrenders himself to the ache and burn. The Volturi has many rules, but one is absolute—what belongs to the Kings, is theirs alone.

Do you even realize you belong to Lord Caius? Do you care? Alec is sure you do, because that’s just how it is.

Alec pines after you in the silence that follows your departure with Lord Caius—if he knew physical pain, he imagines it would feel like this. Knee buckling and raw, like the universe has given him a burden too heavy for him to carry.

At the same time, he would carry that same burden from today until the end of time—so long as you are there. Maybe that’s too much to ask of forever, but it’s the only way eternity sounds nice. Alec couldn’t imagine a world without you, or a Volterra empty of your presence.

So the ache shall remain. A cruel, and heavy reminder that you have chosen Caius at every crossroad. So why would today, or tomorrow, be any different?

“Dearest Alexander…” His eyes rise to meet Aro’s, trying to push down the invading thoughts of you. Particularly his wild imagination and hope, wishes for you to choose him. The King flicks his hand out, flexing his fingers and while Alec fully knows Aro will know.

Somehow the eldest twin wishes that he could silence the thoughts, as he places his palm into Aro’s. Subverting his gaze to elsewhere as the King picks through his mind— “How very curious?” Alec looks up at him, lips tightly together as he shoulders his burden more pressing. “Have you always felt like this?”

However, Alec doesn’t need to respond—in fact, he unconsciously recalls how he completely froze the first time. How he saw you, and that was it… The feared Volturi guard had become a servant to your complexities—and you didn’t even know.

“Fascinating.” Aro drops his hand and Alec tucks it protectively behind his back, folding it into his other hand. “Not very many can withhold their affections, especially our kind.” Aro would have been whispering, like a hushed venomous tongue—which makes Alec’s stomach twist.

“I handle myself just fine.”

The Volturi king hmmms, almost as if he knows something that Alec does not--which is more frustrating than the king just ripping off the bandaid. Leaving the guard to his own struggles, the ache that he is certain will last forever.

That is the burden of knowing that you can not have what you want, and you are not willing to take the step. That is how Alec feels, and he will never be able to change that. To play this game, it has always been a losing game--one that he is going to continue regardless of what is to come.

Bowing his hand, he keeps that hand protectively tucked behind him and sets aside his own desires to take his leave.

In the same breath that he exhales, your scent--allusive and alluring, it is hanging on the air and clings to Alec in a manner that he did not expect.

You were addictive. An ever dangling desire, and it just happens that you leave right here--and he'll never be rid of you. Not so long as you belong to Caius.

"Alec-" He pauses, heading adjusting and glancing back just enough to show that he is listening to Aro. "Remember your place." He did not need a reminder of his place, and so he leaves. Well into Volterra, far away from everyone who could hurt him. Honestly, the list is short, with only one name at the top.

~•~•~•~• CAIUS •~•~•~•~

Once the throne room is out of range, Caius pulls you into his arm with a smile only you can match. To be with you is surreal, like water meeting the coast—you tore through each other similarly as well. A dangerous and catastrophic insanity, one that gave him just enough of a challenge to sate his desire.

To be fair, you were not his mate, but you were something more desirable to him. More challenging and unknown—you were the one that set the room on fire rather than calm the flames, then you would dance as the smoke embraced the stone. That is what made Caius so devote, you were the religion he could not shake. The hymn that he sang, your name dancing off his tongue as his hands grab at your hungrily.

The way your lips curl into a smirk beneath the kiss, he could only describe them as a scripture.

Is that not a religion? Something or someone so divine, that the fact that the grace you with their presence is enough to send you over the edge. Confuse the mind, and the intuition, change the way the brain processes information. In fairness, he held the same chokehold over you, but you were much younger. Much newer to this life, sired to him through blood and venom.

That is why he seemed so much more enamored than you, because no one believed he was capable of that kind of feelings. When it is all said and done, he was completely and irrevocably wrapped up in you. In everything you are.

No one would ever say anything less than ideal, never whisper anything Caius might here—feared you, just as they feared Caius. When your bodies fell through the doors and limbs tangled up, hair falling in whisps together. A blend of shades that meld on the sheets as he embraces your form as close to the mattress as he can.

You lean into the touch, cupping the back of his neck with the sensation of the soft blonde strands wrapping up at the base of your fingers. Vampires did not need air, but you were the breath that Caius needed to survive and that was enough.

Clothes had become nothing more than a barrier between bodies, that's the thought that crosses Caius' mind as he finally begins ripping through the barriers. He can hardly contain the urgency—the needy touch of your fingers enough assurance as you tear through his shirt. Another to the pile of ruins clothes.

While Caius tended to take his time, stripping away every layer and admiring how your body seemed to exist—you cared far less, and needing him as a human needs water. Buried in the sensation of Caius, of the certainty that comes with being in this bed. Nothing made more sense to Caius than the scripture of moans you release at every touch, the tickle of breath against your ear.

You are intoxicating to him. Not a drug or drink, but a fix nonetheless—something that he could not go without.

"To have you like this, I know no greater treasure." His words taste of that same certainty, you like the idea of knowing you are safe at his side. He is protection, a shield from the horrors you once knew. He would burn the world to see you bare beneath him as you are now.

The way your back curves up as you tug yourself forward, his hand at the small of your back—just still as he sees your lips move to form a word. "So long as you swear to take me as I am."

His lips twist into a smile, just briefly Caius is reminded that you are his match in every way. You were just as brutal and cruel, just as vengeful—filled with ugly scars and he loved every piece. He would admire the sharp and angled edges of your soul, knowing only how much he needed you day to day.

"Whether sun or moon—" He intertwined his fingers into yours, lowering your body, but never separating from you entirely. Lips inches apart until your back is against the mattress, and you feel him nearing you. So close. "I would take you regardless, steal you away from all the jealousies of the world." Caius seemed to recite poetry, the words rolling off his tongue every time you were near. Was that infatuation? Love? Devotion? Whatever your influence is, it is is stronger than any other desire—he would choose you before anything else.

Under the careful protection of these walls, with only the stone to hear your confessions—here in these rooms. You fear nothing, and know only pleasure and satisfaction.

~•~•~•~• YOU •~•~•~•~

In due time, you find yourself leaving the King’s room—door clicking back into place roughly as you turn around. In your distraction, the halls had become expansive and barren. While the Volterra was never quite quiet, it is during the early hours of the evening that the palace is the most empty. The Kings having retired to their sanctuary’s, and the guard to either their posts or rooms.

You had thought you would do the same, go to your rooms and wait for time to take its toll on the night. Not much to do beyond that. Some of the guard could leave into the city when the moon was high and the sky dark, but you—it was out of the question.

However, listening to the steps ringing off the stone floors—you find a rhythm in the steps. The sound seems to echo off the walls, and create a symphony of music... But then it is quiet and you are still. Reminded of a life you lost, and a world that you are no longer a part of—could you grieve any longer?

The way the air catches despite not being needed, its like your ache manifested physically. How could you be sure? While the certainty is nice, the rest is less than desired—you are a prisoner of circumstance. Your devotion seemed to make it more complicated, Caius is simply that—you rationalize you do not know love. You have never felt that, only know the poisonous poetry Caius sang every night. He held that power over you just as any king does his subject, maybe he believes he needs you the same way you feel you need him.

A hum of song, the hymns of piano notes dance through the air and you hesitate. You have to go this way regardless, to your rooms—so you continue along.

Its like heaven is touching earth, the music coming to an epic crescendo just as you pass the ajar door. You bite down on the inside of your cheek and glance towards your door, your room is only three doors down. It is close. You could just ignore the music and walk away without ever wondering, but you peek inside. You satisfy your curiosity and become even more intrigued—Alec.

You watch how his fingers glide across the keys, he does not hesitate or even seem to need music sheet. It is as effortless as you walking into the room, the way your feet carry you before you ever form a coherent thought. It was that easy.

If someone asked for the moment you knew, it was then—the way you couldn't tear your eyes away. Only interrupted as he abruptly stops, fingers hovering over the keys as you sit beside him. Wordlessly and ask nothing, except to be near him. Just for a second.

"Please keep playing..." Your words are like an electric current running through him, you note how his chest moves—inhaling and exhaling, eyes glancing at you only briefly. If you were not watching him with such care, you never would have noticed.

"Okay." The way his voice tremors on the second syllable, it is not broken, but woven in the same grief. It is familiar to you. When you want something, but have been denied it for far too long.

So he continues to play and you listen, only knowing the way your lungs fill with air. How your eyes close and feel the sensation of freedom, imagining yourself far away from Volterra. Once you wanted safety, but that safety has become a prison of gold. A royal palace of bars.

Could you live with yourself if you stayed another day? Yes, because you would be alive. However, a piece of you dies with every breath you take within this walls.

The notes carry you away and you fear nothing for a second, you see a tavern filled with laughter. Perhaps a symphony, or opera. Perhaps you see France, or the Americas... You always wanted to see the city. You've lived centuries and never seen a skyscraper.

Alec shifts on the long bench, eyes shift to see you with your eyes closed—admiring you, losing track of the notes until he embraces the confusion. Embracing you close and tucking his hand behind your head, just watching you with a very new certainty. One that is not made of stone, but seems to radiate the certainty of the sun. Your eyes widen, but settle almost in the same half second.

"What are you doing Alec?"

"Asking if I can kiss you—just this once, so I can know what it is I let slip through my fingers." Is that the difference? Of being a treasure versus being everything. Caius has everything and you are another treasure in his trove, but as Alec eyes you—it is as if you are everything to him.

"Only once..." You lean in, whispering the words.

"Just once." He whispers breathlessly, his touch is not urgent, but it is deliberate as if he aims to remember every sensation. Your arms wrap around his neck, and fall into him—he does not come up for air, but separates your lips from his. You feel the warmth of breath against your lips, "I would pay any price to do that again."

.

.

.

Devotion. That is what got you into this mess so long ago, and in the same strain, it is what binds you to promises. Leaves you sitting in the dark of your rooms for a day and night, burying the thought of Alec deep in your chest. Yet his eyes, although the same ruby shade manifest and stir something deep within you.

For those seconds, after he hushed himself and just held you. You could see forever in the ruby irises, imagined a greater eon than sitting idly as a treasure. You see a home, tucked away in the mountains, the green of trees hiding you away and the song of the birds to comfort you through the doubt. Through the fear.

You rarely felt fear since being turned, but Alec stirred that feeling up and intertwined it with every hope. Every dream and thought, seemed to be veiled by the fear that someone can take that away. As swiftly as you found it.

You tuck your knees up to your chest, sitting in the window seat—thick curtains of red behind you as you glance around the courtyard. You are not a guard, but a servant. That word seemed to hang onto your memory of Caius, of how you were there—hopelessly devoted to him.

No one touches what belongs to the kings, but Alec did—and it reminded you of your first day in the Volterra.

You tremor beneath the heavy duvets of your clothes, breath caught up in your throat and tied into a knot. You had watched your entire family die of plague, one by one and someone seemed to skirt by without ever tasting the bitter taste of the disease. You were left unscathed and that burned you even deeper than before.

"Stay here." The thing hisses, the haunting eyes of red seem to glue you into place as your heart beats ferociously in your chest. You have become a slave to your fear and terror, practically certain that you are going to die here. Even as the monster disappears behind a door, you are greeted with another.

You stumble back, but their cool hands grasp you and hold you upright with the softest of smiles. "Its okay." And you believe him—how could you believe him? You weren't stupid, but somehow you trusted him more than the others.

"Are you sure?" He nods, your lips purse together and you wrap your arms around you as a shield. Just wishing that you understood what was happening, but you just don't. You are stuck. Completely locked in place. You see the hesitation as he reaches out, but he does and places a hand on your forearm and rubs a soft round of circles in your skin. He does not hurt. He does not move too fast. He just watches, before speaking.

"You're safe here." There is a human veil of gray hanging over the memories, but you are certain—the first to show you kindness and comfort, had dark hair that curls close to the head.

You had twisted the memory, made Caius into your comfort for saving you, but it was Alec you made you feel safe. He was the last sense of human safety you ever felt, and it bonded you tightly to that misguided protection. How did you forget?

When the day turns to night, you rise from your position and feel the burning sensation of urgency. Different than you ever remember it feeling, and for the first time in a century, it is for more than Caius. It is for yourself, what you want... That is enough to send you running through the halls, certain of only one thing.

One person.

Of the love you know you can learn from Alec.

"I'm leaving." You announce rather abruptly, entering the throne room with a presence that is unfamiliar to most of them. You seem to dominate the space with your voice, standing taller than ever before.

"What?" The blonde king snarls, rising from his throne and while anyone else would cower—you stand a little taller.

"I. Am. Leaving." The words break through the walls of his affection and suddenly he is in front of you, practically nose to nose.

"You will do no such thing. You sound ridiculous."

"What's ridiculous is you thinking that's going to make me stay." You do not think there is a thing he could say to keep you here for another day.

"I can make you do whatever I want." He roughly grabs your arm, and while it does not shake you—Alec moves to your side, pushing Caius off. His eyes widening as he realizes exactly what he just did, and tries to stand as tall as you. Caius seems to grow crueler.

"Do it. Command me to stay and I'll hate you forever." That seems to cause something in Caius to falter, even in front of the other kings and the guard. He couldn't imagine you hating him. Hated the idea. You were so much more than anything Caius has ever been.

"Why now?"

"Because I have something, found the one thing I needed." Your eyes glance over at Alec, he follows your lead. He would follow you anywhere, but he doesn't have a clue what you are going to do next. You look back at Caius. "And I need to figure out what it means."

Everyone expects Caius to kill you both where you stand, Jane's fist clenched as she watches and tries to ground herself away from here. A stupid thing.

"Then go." He does not go back to throne, but walks out of the throne room, door slamming behind him. He is gone just like that, and you swallow. Suddenly not as afraid, but just as certain. Your eyes flicker up to Alec, edging closer until you take his hand. Without a word, you leave with him and walk until you are out of Volterra and deep in the countryside. Just you, him, and the stars.

You were still strangers in many ways.

"What now?" There is no waiver in his voice as there was at the piano, he does not seem as unsure. His grasp on your hand tightening as if it is a lifeline.

"We'll go anywhere." When you look into his eyes, a soulmate you almost lost—one that you almost let go. "But we do it together."

[fire-but-ashes-too]

(Writerblr) intro post!

Hi! welcome to my blog! this is my (very late) writerblr/general/artblr intro, or just somewhere with all my general informations :)

please, go on and read *bows*

☆ Ash is my name on here and i go by she/her

★ Im a teen writer and artist, but i dream of acting

☆ im from italy

★ pan ace and quoiromantic (or wtfromantic its the same) (im still kinda questioning tho??? probs demiromantic??? idk?? feelings r weird atm)

☆ entp and introvert

★ im always up for tag games or stuff like that :)

☆ recently added tags! #ash writes- my writing ofc #ash and her rants- just me talking abt random stuff could be anything serious or not #ash on fire- probs me fangirling over something lol i may get overexcited beware

★ i relate to a spiritual and psychological level to black cats and all their other forms (aka regulus black, tori spring, aristotle mendoza etc etc etc)

i mostly write fantasy or fanfiction, but sometimes i engage in various genres as mystery, dystopian or surrealism :)

★ So I've been scheming like a criminal ever since

genre: fanfiction

audience: general/ teen and up

tropes: rivals to lovers, college AU, slow burn, a lot of fencing, paris✨

cw/tw: past rape/non con, ptsd, homophobia, wounds/blood

progress: i try to update every week but nothing's promised 🥲

snippet here:

Years ago he’d learned to mask his handwriting, so now he could easily forge any handwriting he wanted, if he was given a good example of it being used. There was something extremely interesting in how each person connected two letters to each other. How they wrote an “ar” was different from how they would write an “or”, how much the words were apart from each other and how much pressure they put in the paper told a lot about someone, to him it was like zodiac signs. He didn’t always have to copy other handwritings, not unless he wanted to throw the blame on that person. He just had to invent a brand new writing style, and be careful to not slip his between the cracks. And that’s exctly what he did in the letter. Before Jesper could finish his monologue about how much he had missed out in the past few months holed up in his office, a blackmail threat was ready to be closed inside the paper envelope, just the signature was missing, but he didn’t bother to add it. A proper threat always had to be anonymous, it was always better to give as little information you could. Everything could be used against you. The maroon wax sealed the opening with a satisfying fizzling and a single wisp of smoke. The clock chimed on the wall, it was already 6 pm, he had to go finish some assignments.

(previously titled: questionable decisions)

☆ The Rogue

genre: fantasy, dystopian

audience: teen and up

setting: a fantasy world im currently busy (trying) building

progress: just vibes really, two mainc characters, a couple sides and an outline plus one of the first chapters, not much really but im working on it

characters:

anne: the rogue from where i took the title.

shes a 17 y/o girl who lives in a bunker in a forest, on the run from the government as she's a "high traitor and liar who must be destroyed".

she has the ability to modify her face and appereance for a while and she has a prosthetic arm connected to her virtual friend Indigo.

thanks to it she's able to teleport and keep track of various things.

alexander: the son of the dictator, he's lived his life in a bubble until 2 years ago, when he finally managed to get more social contacts with people and (slightly) catch up on what he's missed, behind his father's back of course.

he meets anne when she's captured and figures she's his best shot at escaping his father domain.

snippet:

This time, she materialised in the shadows behind a bulding, which gave her enough cove for her to shift her facial features. Her nose a little bigger, her hair some shades brighter, her eyes more elongated and greener than the grass growing outside her doorstep and a splash of freckles to top it all off. It was way harder to do it without a mirror, and way more dangerous. For all she knew, she could’ve been looking like a girl with a fish head, and she didn’t know if that would be better or worse than looking like herself. Anne took out a hat and a silk scarf, she wrapped it around her neck and jumped in a group of tourists gazing at the city. In no time she was in the square, vendor’s stands circling her, colourful flags waving in the wind. She could’ve stayed like that for ever, stuck in the memories of her old life, but she knew it couldn’t last forever.

★ Flowers and Homicide

genre: mystery

audience: general

cw/tw: blood, dead bodies, autopsies

main character: Giada

she's a forensics student who one day stumbles (metaphorically) over a dead body in her neighbour's lawn and starts investigating.

progress: actually finished but in italian sadly so in the translation process

☆ Confessions of a timeless man

genre: short story, surrealistic

audience: teen and up

content warning: suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts, depression

plot summary: a man is stuck living the same day over and over, after almost 10 years there, he tries to escape his curse by killing himself

progress: completed XD

(here's my ao3 btw)

you want to know more about me! why than you, here you go!

★ my favourite artists are Taylor Swift, Conan Gray, Arctic Monkeys, Chase Atlantic, Marina, Lana del Rey, Sabrina Carpenter, Mother Mother and Billie Eilish (theres more but i cant remember whoops)

☆ synesthetic bitch

★ other than writing, art-ing and reading i love baking/cooking and crocheting

☆ theatre kid over here, always up for screaming my lungs out

★ uhhh im a vegetarian

☆ i know a scary amount about death and murder (especially poisons)

★ i dont have a specific vibe, it usually changes every few months or so

☆ i probably have anxiety but ive never been to therapy so idk 💀

★ always up for fangirling :3 (im in too many fandoms *cries* buuut im most active on pjo, marauders, grishaverse and osemanverse, musicals and some books that i have boards for on my pinterest :D)

☆ i am terribly scared of insects, needles and dogs

★ my (quite unusual) sport is aerial dance, a circus speciality that looks really cool but is acctually really painful

☆ my pinterest, spotify and goodreads if by some reason you're really interested in the chaotic human being that i am :)

thank you for reading this farrr🥹🥹

have a great day/night/life :D

[ticklinglady]

You know, I find it to be truly fun to think about connections of various writers and wonder how those might play out in the story, however then I remember that Asagiri himself isn't particularly interested in doing this, aside from some exceptions. For better or for worse, which is a matter of preference, he truly creates an entirely new story with some references to the real people, despite using their names and alluding to their works. Usually I'm rather cool with that, "Let the man go wild, he's awesome! 🥰", however sometimes I can't help, but feel like it results in some missed opportunities for the story. If you name characters after real people, might as well play with the allusions to them a little more. Here are just some examples of the connections between the real writers, that I am aware of, yet they played no role in the BSD at all:

Akutagawa Ryunosuke was the student of Natsume Soseki and loved his teacher dearly - zero interactions between the two during the story

Q/Yumeno Kyusaku was quite a huge fan of Edogawa Ranpo and Edogawa later became the benefactor of the writer - zero interactions between the two during the story

Tayama Katai and Mori Ogai became acquaintances during the Russo-Japanese war and spent lots of time talking with one another while at it - zero interactions between the two during the story

Edogawa Ranpo was the first person to translate and introduce Lovecraft's writings in Japan - zero interactions between the two during the story

Akutagawa Ryunosuke loved Poe's works and translated them into Japanese - zero interactions between the two during the story

Nathaniel Hawthorne and Herman Melville were great friends and Melville adored Hawthorne so much, that it influenced the creation of "Moby-Dick" a lot and from what I have seen many people say he was actually in love (maybe the writer was indeed in love with him, but I am afraid, I'm not qualified enough to talk about this. Feel more than free to add info to the post) - zero interactions between the two during the story

H. P. Lovecraft was quite a fan of Edgar Allan Poe and his works were heavily influenced by him - zero interactions between the two during the story

Nikolai Gogol and Alexander Pushkin were great friends and influenced each other a lot - zero interactions between the two during the story

Fyodor Dostoevsky was one hell of a fanboy of Alexander Pushkin and even had the honor to give an official speech at the anniversary of the latter's death - zero interactions between the two during the story

And etc.

I mean, don't you guys think it would have been interesting to see Mori and Katai interact, given Katai's heavy dislike for the mafia? Hell, Mori might have even been made the main reason behind Katai's strong emotions! And then there's the situation with Akutagawa and Natsume. I find it to be truly surprising that Mori and Fukuzawa were made Natsume's students in the BSD, yet the person who was actually Natsume's student in real life hasn't even talked to him so far. Nathaniel and Melville are actually part of the same organization, yet there's nothing about it, though to be fair, the Guild members suffer from the lack of screentime in general. But just imagine if there was a tragic love story between the two instead of the one we got with Margaret arffufgbh. However, like I said in the beginning, it's a matter of preference. The story still works on its own and Asagiri still gives us from time to time such interesting references so in general I am very content and happy X3 I'm just saying here my thoughts on how fun it would have been, if he had gone even further

[football-and-fanfics]

Sick - Trent Alexander-Arnold & Dominik Szoboszlai

Who: Trent Alexander-Arnold, Dominik Szoboszlai Request: puhleaeaease write a sickfic with Dom and TAA?! 😍🤩 I love these two & their weird bromance thingy 😁 ur the best! Requested by: anonymous Warnings: mentions of being sick

The sixth day of Liverpool's two week training camp in Austria was about to start. The team gathered in their hotel's restaurant for breakfast, but there was one very significant absentee.

"Wheres Trent?" Dominik was the first to notice the Scouser's unusual absence. Since he had been named vice-captain, Trent always was among the first to arrive for any team activity. But now he was nowhere to be seen, while even the most notorious latecomers were already present.

Andy, sitting at the same table as Dominik, looked around. "Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen him yet." "That’s not like him at all." Dominik shifted a little uncomfortably in his seat. An uneasy feeling was creeping up on him somehow. He had absolutely no reason to, but there was a gut-feeling not to trust this situation.

As if their conversation had been overheard, Virgil suddenly appeared behind Andy, holding up his phone and looking equally worried. "Have any of you seen Trent today?" The Dutchman asked, sounding serious. "No one’s seen him yet, and he’s not answering his phone either." "That’s it." Dominik threw his napkin onto the table and resolutely got to his feet. "I’m checking his room. I’ve got a bad feeling about this."

With Virgil and Andy close behind him, Dominik hurried up to the floor of Trent’s room. "Trent!" Dominik pounded his fist on the door. "Trent, if you’re there, open up!" Dominik shared a concerned look with Andy and Virgil as he listened for sounds from inside the room. He was just about to slam his fist into the door some more, when he heard the weakest voice from inside.

"On my way… no need to kick the door down…"

The hotel room door finally opened up to a completely dark room. Trent stood in the door opening, clearly still in his nightwear, and looking absolutely miserable. "Are you okay?" Dominik immediately asked, although Trent swaying visibly on his feet should already answer his question. "Sick…" Trent’s voice sounded uncharacteristically lifeless and raspy.

Dominik was glad they had located Trent, but the state in which they found him was definitely cause for concern. "Can I come in?" Dominik asked. "Sure." Trent shrugged minutely, already turning around to go back to bed.

Before he stepped in, Dominik shared another look with Andy and Virgil. Given Trent’s current condition he didn’t think it wise for all three of them to go in. His two teammates understood wordlessly. "We’ll go inform the gaffer," Andy said, before he and Virgil left.

Dominik silently closed the door behind him. "Can I turn on a light?" "Yes." Came a muffled reply. Dominik switched on a small light. He found Trent lying on his front on the bed, looking very much out of it. "What’s wrong?" He sat himself down on the edge of the bed, looking down at his vice-captain’s sweat-covered shoulders. "Just… sick," Trent mumbled, "my head’s killing me, and I’m pretty sure I’m running a fever." Dominik shortly held the back of his hand to Trent’s neck, feeling the heat radiating off the skin. "You are most definitely running a fever."

Dominik strode over to the bathroom to run a wash cloth under the cold tap, which he then gently placed across Trent’s neck. Trent groaned a soft word of thanks in reply.

"I’m going to get you some aspirin," Dominik announced, "and maybe it’s best if I stay here today, too." The fact that Trent did not protest to that in any way, was all the confirmation Dominik needed to indeed watch over his friend all day.

---

For most of the day, Dominik sat in the sitting area of the room, reading a book or watching something on his phone, while Trent slept. Occasionally Dominik would check up on his friend, but could only conclude that Trent was sound asleep.

Halfway through the afternoon came the first signs of life from Trent again. He groaned softly a few times, before slowly rolling himself onto his back. He still felt rather feverish, but at least his headache was a lot less. A slight movement to the left side of the room made him look, and he found Dominik sitting there.

"You really did stay." Trent’s voice sounded somewhat raspy from not being used for a while. Dominik startled slightly, but he quickly recollected himself. "Of course I did." Trent propped himself up on his elbows. "You didn’t have to do that." "You didn’t see yourself this morning." Dominik chuckled wryly. "No way we were going to leave you alone, mate." Trent frowned. "We?" "Yeah, the whole team’s been worried about you." Dominik answered, "but, more importantly, are you feeling any better?" "A little," Trent mumbled, "I’m not rid of it yet, though."

Dominik slowly rose to his feet, walking the few paces that separated him and Trent. "May I?" He asked. Trent nodded, even though he didn’t know what his teammate was asking permission for. Without any further advance notice, Dominik held the back of his hand against Trent’s neck, just like he had done that morning. "You feel less warm," Dominik concluded, "but still a bit feverish I imagine." "Yeah." Trent lay back again.

Dominik watched as Trent made himself comfortable again, ready to sleep off the rest of the flu or whatever this was. "Are you staying?" Trent mumbled. "Would you want me to?" Dominik asked. There was a short moment of silence before Trent answered. "If you don’t mind."

Dominik chuckled softly and sat back in the armchair he had occupied for most of the day so far. "Don’t worry, I’ll be staying right here."

Tags: @stonesyyyy, @footballffbarbiex, @football1921, @laurasstufff1, @ella33

Request an imagine | Add me to the tags list Trent Alexander-Arnold masterlist | General masterlist

[alexanderlightweight]

Hiiiiiiii, (tries to look at you with the biggest puppy eyes) is there a chance for more in the cider verse? What happens post wedding? Relationship reveal with a bang? The terrible trio crashing and burning? „Surprise, the cup is safe!“? #wednesdayprompt

Cider verse tho I don’t have a name for the sequel yet!

Haha not much happens just yet. Magnus and Alec are waiting for the right time and Alec finding out his siblings stole his stele and committed treason is not great for those honeymoon vibes.

Alec needs to figure out how much damage he has to salvage before he blows up the ground under him and everywhere else

Hehe the cup is a problem ^_^ but it’s not Alec’s problem (not yet at least)

I hope you enjoy

💜 lumine

—

Alec wants nothing more than to bask in the glory of a warm afternoon sun and the gorgeous, relaxed body of his husband.

Alec can’t help his grin, the way he moves closer so he can press his lips adoringly against Magnus' chest.

Magnus grumbles, a sleepy protest at Alec’s stubble against his bare skin and Alec just nuzzles closer still.

Magnus arms come up, solid and strong and keeping Alec close in a way that has Alec aching to shut away the world for just a little longer.

Despite the fact that he knows he can’t, he shuts his eyes and tries to let sleep steal him back under.

“Alexander—“ he hears what feels like an instant and a lifetime later, all at once. Alec shakes his head, a stubborn refusal as he inhales the scent of Magnus and his shampoo and them.

It’s addicting and Alec whines, shaking his head when Magnus insistently pets his back.

“The world will not wait for us, darling.” Magnus reminds him gently, “we’ve stolen away all that we can risk already, Alexander.”

Alec knows that.

He does.

But he selfishly loathes the thought of once again, fighting for every chance to see Magnus. And not only that, but fighting a war on all sides when it comes to his siblings, parents and the clave.

“I can’t be kept from you.” Magnus reminds him gently — the strength of his grip giving away his own concerns.

Alec knows that.

It’s why they did what they did.

Magnus and he are tied together in every possible way that can protect them.

Knowing all of that doesn’t make it any easier though.

—

When Alec had made the choices he did, he hadn’t realized his siblings would be stupid enough to commit outright treason.

The sheer gall of it has him pacing the deck as he pulls every active-duty shadowhunter in his Institute and puts them on alert.

Alec had barely given himself and Magnus thirty hours to just be with each other, and now he finds himself forming teams to search.

As he’d already reported the theft of his stele to Lydia, Alec can’t be incriminated. He’d purposefully taken himself out of the equation for Lydia to take charge for a few days and while it’s kept him from trouble, he’s in no position to help his siblings.

It means that Alec has to be cold, nearly voiceless as the power he gave to Lydia to be used against his parents is now used against Jace and Izzy.

Alec still isn’t sure exactly what anyone was thinking throughout the entire debacle — Lydia ordering Meliorn interrogated is a step far beyond the power he allowed her — but regardless, it’s happened.

Alec can’t even deal with the fallout just yet, not when he needs to let Lydia see this through.

“I did warn you to secure them and to not act overly hasty.” Alec hears Mirai murmur to Lydia, his second is less than impressed with the clave’s envoy and he doesn’t blame her. Alec and Mirai had finally been making progress and Lydia… well Alec’s not sure her purpose or plans but they no longer mesh with his own.

“I couldn’t risk that he had information we needed.” Lydia replies and then she winces when Mirai gives her a dark look.

“It wasn’t your risk to take, Branwell. But it is your mess to clean up. Alec extended a hand of trust, to both the clave and you through his actions. His trust was poorly received.”

Mirai isn’t wrong, and Alec is relieved to find his professional trust not completely betrayed. That she is watching his back without knowing he can hear her is a boon and one Alec needs.

Especially after his parabatai and sister who committed treason — Alec is refusing to think about Max’s role — it was under the clave’s watch that it happened.

After all, the last thing Alec needs is a charge of treason on the night he married the love of his life.

—

Magnus: darling… not to play devils advocate for your siblings but he is one of my favorite uncles and you need a distraction. Did you not do something similarly risky and Ill-advised recently?

Alec: babe the difference is I didn’t get caught. It would be one thing if they ONLY got caught. But they didn’t just get caught. They announced that they were breaking the rules loudly and happily and almost gave the cup to Valentine while also letting him know exactly where it is… allegedly

Magnus: true, you’re much careful with your attempts at sedition

Alec grumbling as he gets ready for bed: they’re not attempts if they’re successful

[loosesodamarble]

Welcome to the Black Bird Part 2: Alexander the Bodyguard

Summary: Introducing Sukehiro as Alexander, the strong and stalwart bodyguard butler of the Black Bird. Genre: general Word count: ~800 A/N: I commissioned the art of Yami from @cringeyvanillamilk.

..........

“We just don’t think you can bring what our business is looking for.”

“There aren’t any open positions, sorry.”

“Sorry, kid, given your record, we’ve decided against hiring you.”

Sukehiro threw his phone onto his bed before flopping down on the mattress.

What was the fucking point of applying to every job he could find only to get turned down by every place? He was starting to believe that there wasn’t a point. He’d be stuck going nowhere. He’d spend the last of his savings on renting out a shithole apartment and once he was out, he’d be on the streets.

He’d probably wind up dead in a ditch soon after.

Because no one would bother caring for someone like him.

And then one day, when Sukehiro was walking to the convenience store for some cheap shopping, he ran into a man.

Short blond hair. Dark purple eyes that seemed wise beyond their years. The oddest name Sukehiro had ever heard, Julius Novachrono.

“The moving crew I hired is a little overwhelmed by how much I have,” he explained with an awkward laugh. “Would you mind lending a hand? It’s just at the apartment building next door. I’ll even pay in cash if you’d like.”

The money was a hundred dollars an hour at minimum. Of course Sukehiro took the chance.

And one chance encounter was all it took…

…..

“My lady, I humbly offer my arm to you so that you may walk without fear of falling on your way to your table,” Sukehiro said as he slightly bowed from his waist.

“No need today, Alexander,” replied Charlotte Roselei, one of the regulars at the Black Bird. She was also a regular to Sukehiro’s butler persona, asking for him whenever he was available.

“I shall still guide you, and I will take care to watch for anything that might endanger you.”

Charlotte laughed softly then replied, “Fine by me.”

On the way to the table, Sukehiro made a bit of a show of himself. He put his arm out, stopping fellow waiter “Flynn” from crossing in front of Charlotte.

“Watch your step, Flynn. You could’ve bumped into my mistress and done her harm,” Sukehiro said sternly, glaring into his coworker’s eyes.

“Flynn” clicked his tongue and replied, “You gotta be a real loser to be so protective.”

Sukehiro scoffed. In the corner of his eye, he saw Charlotte pass by, and so he put his arm down and let “Flynn” by. He hurried back to Charlotte’s side, guiding her. No words were exchanged, not until Charlotte was seated and had the menu in hand.

“I don’t find it lame at all,” she muttered.

“Hm? Whatever do you mean, my lady?” Sukehiro asked, already knowing but feeling the need to entertain a brief conversation.

“Being protective of others, whether it be as intimate as family or casually for a customer, is noble in my opinion. Although…” She turned the page of the menu and stared at the entree selection. “I feel like your effort is wasted on someone like me. Since well…” Charlotte lifted her arm and flexed, showing the lean muscle of her bicep.

Against his better judgment, Sukehiro chuckled. “I would only consider it wasted effort if you didn’t appreciate it.”

…..

Shielded Sea Fry. One of the pricier dishes on the specialty menu, but only because it so heavily relied on seafood.

Sukehiro grew up in a coastal town, eating more fish than beef or pork. So of course a dish based on who he was would have to involve seafood. He preferred cracking a crab open and eating it plain but for the sake of the cafe’s aesthetic, he agreed that a crab salad served in a cleaned out shell would suffice. The entree also had seared scallops, a boiled lobster tail, and an acidic seaweed salad to balance the richness of the crustaceans.

The seafood was plated within the shells, reflecting the protective persona that Sukehiro put on for his customers.

Reflecting the shield that Sukehiro had hidden himself behind for years before. Because, back then, no one was going to protect him except himself.

That was then. In the present though, he was at the Black Bird.

Where everything was clean and polished, even himself. Where the customers would admire his physique rather than take his appearance alone as a threat to be mugged. And where he met some weirdos and made some wonderful friends too.

Never did Sukehiro believe he’d end up where he was. But he was there and he didn’t plan on leaving any time soon.

“One Shielded Sea Fry for Table #10!” the head chef yelled.

“Picking it up!” Sukehiro called back.

.....

[spaghettinoodlesworld]

The English Love Deception Pt 4

“my second favourite thing to do”

Part1 - Part2 - Part 3

Jude Bellingham X Reader ft Trent Alexander Arnold

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension, reader slaying

Noodles: not the best but at least it’s an update*wink*

now give me your notes ;)

Last night was a mess or actually last night made you a mess. You rarely lose your cool and yesterday was definitely one of those moments.

You try your best not to think much about what happened but then again you’re here sitting on the bleachers watching the English team practice even though the players are on vacation from their respective clubs but you guessed that’s their idea of having fun and enjoying each other’s company.

Jude told you that you need to subtly start acting as his girlfriend so yesterday he invited you to watch him practice with him teammates as if the little stunt he pulled last night wasn’t subtle enough.

You were really enjoying watching them that you didn’t feel the time pass but a certain bitch decided to show up and ruined the day for you.

“Oh y/nnn what are you doing here?” You hate how she stretches your name like that.

“Hannah, I came to watch the boys practice I’m guessing you came for the same reason.”

“I always come here when trent is practicing with the boys.” you’ve concluded that Hannah’s personality= Trent by now.

“Oh I see,” you tried to finish the convo and hoped and prayed really prayed that she keeps her little mouth shut.

“so what’s up with you and jude.”

“What do you mean I don’t understand.”

“C’mon it’s extremely obvious. Stop faking it”

Okay that’s when you started sweating I mean you didn’t even start the act apart from that tiny moment from last night and here she is claiming that you’re faking? Faking what exactly you didn’t understand

“faking what Hannah don’t be ridiculous”

“it’s either you’re dating him or something is going on between you guys. You guys were extremely too comfy with each other if you weren’t dating that would be fucking weird given the fact that both of you people are seeing other people,” she quickly shot at you.

“Okay okay calm down yes Judy and I are seeing each other for a while now actually,” okay now you felt dumb you wanted to give him a nickname to prove that you’re not lying but you ended up with Judy?? Making you look stupid.

“you do know he hates it when people calls him that?” Okay now she’s acting as the know-him-more gf. You hate the fact that she didn’t directly tell you that she’s his ex and that she’s just merely implying it so you do the same.

“That’s not what he says to me every night though.”

As much as you wanted to give this bitch more because yes she deserves it, your attention was drawn back to the field by a whistle.

you didn’t see what happened because Hannah was busy eating your ear with her idle talk, but all you’ve noticed is that both Jude and Trent are on the ground and it seems that their knees got injured or something.

“OMG TRENT ARE YOU OKAY?” Hannah’s loud voice woke you from your daydreaming and went running to him.

“Well I need to do something right?right?” You said to yourself as you went down to Jude to check up on him.

You ran to him to add the dramatic effect but ended up tripping in front of him with your knee now hurting too.

“We should make a club for people with injured knees,” you mumbled to yourself clutching your knee.

“y/n here get up,” you heard Jude telling you giving you a hand.

“God this is embarrassing I came to check up on you and you end up checking on me,” you said taking his hand.

“I’ll go take a shower and I’ll be back wait for me,” Jude said before heading to the locker rooms limping a bit.

After a few minutes you decided to get some salve you found in the medical kit and went to the locker room, entering without knocking as if it was your bedroom.

Only to find Jude shirtless drying his wet hair.

“Oh you came to check up on me? How sweet of you.”

“How about you put a shirt on?”

“oh? Cause by the way you’re eating me up with your eyes I thought you liked me like that.”

“yea I knew it, coming here was a bad idea I should’ve left your wound get infected at the end of the day why do I care?”

“Mhm tell me more about the ‘why do I care part’”

“yea I just said I don’t care Jude suit yourself”

“and what if I said I wanted you to care?”

“that’ll be stupid”

“not gonna lie keeping you on your toes is slowly becoming my second most favourite thing to do these days.”

“well fucking congratulations Jude cause you do that effortlessly now bend your knees and stop talking this is going to hurt.” You said as you asked him to put bend knee stepping on the bench for support.

“I extremely thank you for your hones- oh fucking hell y/n you didn’t even give me a warning.”

“come on Judy don’t be such a baby you wanted me to give you a countdown boo,”

“Y/n you do know that your knee might be scratched too. Let me see what faces you’ll make when I apply that on your boo-boo,” he said making fun of you,”and since I’m a good man I’ll be humble enough to help you.”

“yes but we don’t know if I am scratched yet Im wearing jeans”

“One way to find out then,” he said slowly you don’t understand this man and from literally the two days you’ve known him you’ve grown to know that you need to expect the unexpected when it comes to him.

“What do you-“ you were interrupted by a sharp pain in your knee because Jude touched your now surely scratched knee.

“Yes 100% scratched”

“You didn’t have to do THAT” you hissed at him.

“What and leave you like that when you so humbly suggested to help tend my wounds?I can’t let you win a point against me.”

“this is not a competition plus I’ve had it mind that I’ll check my knee at home.”

“I’m pretty sure we agreed it’s a competition last night remember? My dora the explorer tends to forget a lot do you want me to remind you?”

he said walking towards you as if he had a goal in mind and he should implement as soon as possible.

“I’m dying to have a decent conversation with you without being dragged somewhere or pushed to something” you said as soon as you felt the cold surface of the lockers through your shirt.

“I have zero idea what you’re talking about,” he said caging you very close that you can tell he uses Oral-B as a toothpaste,” you y/n say the weirdest things care to explain.”

You try your best to not breathe very hard you don’t want his chest to touch yours which was kinda hard given the current situation. You’re monitoring the distance between his bare chest and the front of your shirt forgetting the snarky reply that you prepared to smash him with.

“Anyone would call this a one-sided conversation but to me silence is an answer.”

“What do you want Jude?”

“I want peace and love around the world I wan-“

“What do you want from me Jude?”

“oh I just wanna make sure that my knee is working and that I can bend it again,” he said slowly bending his knee dangerously getting too close to your legs, “umm I think we have a problem here. It’s a dead end.” He whispered slowly as his bent knee taps at the line between your thighs.

“It won’t be a dead end if I left right now that my job is done.”

“Now that’s a bad doctor there, what good doctor will leave their patient with an injured knee without further inspection.”

“Jude I have been gone for a while now people will talk.”

“Let them talk I couldn’t care less what they say and I guess I have you given you a bit of a hint last night. But again you don’t really remember what happened right? I really need to remind you what happened last night y/n this is driving me crazy.” You really can’t keep up with what he’s saying but a part of you was excited with the idea that Trent now knows that you’re in a locker room with his friend doing god knows what.

“I’ll ask the question again,” you said trying to gain control over the situation you are in.

“I’m listening.”

“What do you want jude?”

“God you ask a lot of questions,” he said pushing his shoes between yours so now your legs are slightly open, “ don’t you look at that it’s not a dead end anymore. Now I guess I can really try to see if my knees are functioning.”

He said bending his knees flexing its muscles that they are touching the inside of your thighs. Close but not close enough.

“I guess you’re a very good doctor y/n my knees are actually perfectly fine.”

“Just because I let you do as you please doesn’t mean I can’t stop you Jude.” You said pushing his thighs away looking him straight in the eyes.

You raise your arm in front of you only for it to meet his toned stomach and him hissing at how cold your hand is.

“See you’re so much more fun to be around when you’re silent or actually silenced,” you corrected yourself pushing him hard causing him to sit at the bench behind him, “you’ve said I’m a good doctor but i can’t say the same to you cause you’re a bad patient,” You said looking at his dark expecting eyes,” and yes it was a one-sided conversation because I wanted it to be so,” you said as you’ve started to glide your cold little fingers at his visible clavicle going up to his neck imagining yourself stabbing him in his jugular vein only stopping when you felt him gulping,” I thought I needed to do more to get that reaction out of you. guess I don’t even have to sit on you to leave you breathless damn I underestimate myself sometimes.” You said laughing to yourself moving towards the door saying,

“If there is one lesson that you’ve learnt today Jude is that don’t play a dangerous game you can’t play unless you can deal with the consequences.”