#AS WE DANCE BY THE MOONLIGHT CAN YOU SEE. YOURE MY DELIGHT

[friendlyfangs]

Music to listen to 10 minutes before bedtime to totally fuck up the idea you'll be calm and restful enough to sleep in a timely manner

[diamonddaze01]

The Somerset Affair (TEASER)

pairing: lsk x fem!reader genre: Bridgerton AU, friends to (?????) to eventual lovers, brother’s best friend, SLOWWWW BURNNN teaser wc: 1.2k | series wc: ~20-30k warnings: alcohol consumption, societal expectations, eventual smut, more to be added a/n: this is my longest work yet and it genuinely took a village. // ENORMOUS thanks to indi @wongyuseokie for this GORGEOUSSSS banner // and thank you to my lovely betas shu @welcometomyoasis lou @tusswrites and haneul @chanranghaeys you all are amazing and i adore you for dealing with me // 1st part will be posted on Tuesday, with sporadic updates as I finish chapters

summary: the three times seokmin asks you to stay, and the one time you do.  

comment to be tagged when chapters are posted, or join the fic taglist here!

On the eve of your debut, you find yourself seated on the swing in the garden of the Somerset townhome, the night cloaked in an almost palpable tension. The sounds of Mayfair filter through the stillness—a symphony of distant laughter, the soft clatter of carriages, and the occasional rustle of silk skirts—as the ton settles into slumber. The air feels electric, crackling with anticipation, as if the entire world is holding its breath, waiting for the events of the morrow to unfold.

You take a deep drag from the cigarette you swiped from Minghao’s rooms, the smoke spiraling into the night like a fleeting thought. With each inhale, you hope to drown out the anxious fluttering of your heart, a dissonant rhythm that accelerates at the mere thought of tomorrow’s debut.

“Why, Lady Xu Y/N, are you smoking?” The voice breaks through your reverie, causing you to sputter and cough, hastily attempting to conceal the cigarette behind your back. You turn to see Seokmin, leaning casually against the sturdy oak tree that secures the swing, his figure silhouetted against the moonlight.

His presence is both familiar and disarming, the boyish charm of his smile juxtaposed against the weight of his title. “No, Seokmin, I—” you stammer, flustered.

“Shove over,” he commands lightly, and before you can protest, he plucks the cigarette from your frozen grip, taking a deep, leisurely drag. The sight of him—so confident, so carefree—sets your heart racing in a way that both delights and terrifies you.

“What on earth are you doing here?” you ask incredulously, half-exasperated, half-amused.

“I was with your brother at White’s,” he replies, amusement dancing in his eyes. “It was my mistake to forget how little he can imbibe before devolving into an utter fool. I was merely making sure he returned home safely.” His tone shifts, curiosity sparkling in his gaze. “Are you excited for tomorrow?”

“Excited? Hardly,” you grumble, kicking at the scattered rocks beneath your feet. “What my heart truly desires is to run away—pack my things, flee to Paris, and open a quaint little bookstore. Perhaps live out my days as a spinster, surrounded by novels and solitude.”

Seokmin’s expression shifts, a shadow of understanding passing across his features. “We cannot always have what our hearts desire,” he says, his voice tinged with a hint of sorrow as he exhales a plume of smoke. “Sometimes, we must accept that we can find happiness in what we have, not in what could have been.”

You watch the smoke dance and dissipate into the night sky, thoughts swirling as restlessly as the tendrils of fog around you.

“And you?” you ask quietly, the question escaping before you can catch it. “What does your heart desire?”

“Desired,” he corrects, taking another deep drag. “I once dreamed of being a fencer, of dueling beneath the sun. But above all, I yearned to find love.”

Your heart stutters at his admission. His thigh brushes against yours, an electric touch that feels so scandalously intimate you can hardly breathe. You suddenly become acutely aware of the nightgown you wear, the thin fabric doing little to shield you from the heat radiating from his body. If Minghao were to catch you in this moment, you are certain he would demand that Seokmin either marry you on the spot or duel him for your honor.

The very thought sends a shiver down your spine—an improper thought that both terrifies and thrills you. You are a young lady, poised to make your debut, and here you are, perched so closely to an eligible duke, the expectations of the ton looming like a dark cloud. What would society say if they were to discover you in this clandestine moment? The whispers would be deafening, your reputation in tatters, and yet… the thrill of it, the danger, pulls at you like a siren's song.

“And you believe you shall never find it?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I am a Duke, Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice so soft it barely pierces the night air. “Duty must come first. If there is any part of me left, which there rarely is, only then can I pursue love.”

The distance between you feels both impossibly vast and achingly close, the weight of his words pressing against you like an invisible force. You can see the vulnerability in his eyes, the unspoken longing that mirrors your own.

You hum, encouraging him to continue, yet the weight of his words presses down on your chest.

“But how fortunate am I,” he continues, his gaze piercing through the night like a beacon, “to have found such a remarkable friend who stands by me even as duty threatens to drown me where I stand.”

A friend. The word lingers between you, heavy and loaded. Is that truly all he sees you as? The realization sends your mind reeling, your heart racing in an entirely different way.

No, the trees whisper, urging you to reconsider.

Could it be…love?

That foreign sensation, long buried beneath layers of propriety and friendship, now unfurls within you, roots taking hold. You realize with a start that you have loved Seokmin, perhaps from that very first kiss on your hand all those years ago, long before you could articulate the feelings swirling in your heart.

Panic courses through you, and you leap up from the swing as if it has burned you. “It is late, Lord Lee. I must take my leave now,” you stammer, unable to meet his gaze. “I hope you find your way home safely.”

He reaches out, his hand brushing against your wrist, and your breath hitches at the contact. “Wait,” he says, his voice low, almost laced with concern. “Are you alright? You seem... distant.”

His eyes search yours, and you feel the weight of his gaze, an anchor that both comforts and terrifies you. Your pulse quickens, a frantic rhythm echoing in your ears. What would it mean to linger here a moment longer, to let the night wrap around you like a cocoon?

But all the books you’ve read offer no preparation for the heartache that comes with knowing he regards you as merely a friend. A friend, just like your brother. You are his friend, and the shattering realization settles in: he will never love you back.

“Tulip?” he adds softly, the word a whisper that brushes against your skin like the wind.

You swallow hard, every part of you aching to give in, to lean into the connection pulsing between you. But the truth looms like a storm cloud overhead, dark and inevitable.

You love Lord Lee Seokmin, Duke of Lancaster, but he will never love you.

And with that heavy knowledge weighing on your heart, you turn to leave, every step toward your room feeling like a betrayal to the emotions simmering just beneath the surface. 

You don’t sleep at all, thoughts consumed by a boy you had once known and the man you now love.

[heaven-lee-elven-embers]

I just found your blog and immediately fell in love! If requests are open then can I request a King Thranduil x wife reader she didn’t come from a royal background and they’re having a celebration and his wife is just beaming with excitement and asks him to dance with her to which he happily accepts!🤍✨

ᎠᎯᏁᏨᎨᏁᎶ ᏖᎻᏒᎾᏬᎶᎻ ᏕᎬᎯᏕᎾᏁᏕ

The grand hall of the Woodland Realm shimmered with the soft glow of lanterns, their warm light reflecting off the intricate carvings that adorned the grand pillars. The air was thick with the sweet scent of blooming silverleaf flowers, lovingly arranged for the occasion. As you stood before the mirrored glass, you took a deep breath, smoothing down the elegant gown that felt both foreign and strangely comforting against your skin.

Nerves fluttered in your stomach as you rehearsed the moment in your mind. What if he doesn’t think you’re enough? you wondered, your heart racing at the thought of facing the elven king. Today was a celebration of love, yes, but it also felt like an unveiling—an unveiling of your insecurities beneath the weight of his regal presence.

As the music began to play, the grand doors opened, and you caught your first glimpse of him. Thranduil stood at the end of the aisle, his ethereal beauty more breathtaking than you had ever imagined. His silver hair flowed like moonlight down his back, and his emerald-green robes seemed to harmonize with the lush forest surrounding him. For a moment, time stood still. The world faded, and all you could see was him—the majestic king who had somehow chosen you, a mere half-elf, to be his wife.

Memories flooded your mind—the countless encounters leading up to this day when you first met in the glade where wild blossoms bloomed during the spring and summer. His laughter had resonated like a melody, charming you with tales of ancient times while he watched you with a thoughtful gaze. Each meeting was a strand woven into the tale of your love for him, and you could see how he had gradually let his walls down, revealing glimpses of the kindred spirit that lay beneath his royal façade.

The soft chime of the elven bells brought you back to the moment, and you began to walk forward, each step steadier than the last. It was then that you noticed the warmth in Thranduil's eyes—the flicker of admiration, affection. In that fleeting instant, you realized that what had begun as a hesitant dance of courtship had flourished into something deeper—a bond neither of you had expected but both had yearned for.

With your heart in your throat, you approached him and felt a gentle smile grace his lips. As he extended his hand toward you, you took it, and the world around you blurred as if you were the only two souls destined for this moment.

"Fear not, my love," Thranduil said softly, his voice a soft caress against your anxieties. "Together, we shall weave our own tale among the stars.”

As the celebration unfolded in the grand hall, laughter and music filled the air, creating a symphony of joy. You stood slightly apart from the throng of elven guests, sipping your drink as your gaze wandered over the elaborately decorated tables piled high with delicacies—glimmering fruits, rich pastries, and fragrant wines. The atmosphere buzzed with excitement, and the flicker of candlelight danced across the room, but insecurities tugged at your heartstrings like an unseen shadow.

The regal figure of Thranduil dominated the center of attention, surrounded by guests who appeared beyond delighted in his stories. His presence was magnetic, a true beacon of beauty and grace that captivated all who beheld him. You marveled at the way the light caught the angles of his face, highlighting the sharpness of his jaw and the gentle curve of his lips—a king in every sense, embodying the essence of the Woodland Realm.

Yet, amidst the celebrations, a subtle fear lingered within you. You were no longer just a guest in his world; you were his wife. What if you weren’t worthy of standing beside him? As you watched him mingle, the full weight of this realization settled in. Your heartbeat quickened and your palms grew clammy. It felt almost surreal to think that the magnificent Thranduil had chosen you, a mere half-elf, as his partner for life.

Taking a deep breath, you steeled your nerves. The music swelled around you, a melody that seemed to echo your thoughts. The cheerful strains beckoned you, inviting you to join the revelry, but you felt fixed to the spot, a blend of admiration and self-doubt rooting you in place.

As if sensing your turmoil, Thranduil’s gaze found yours across the room. For a heartbeat, the world faded away, and it was just the two of you. His expression softened, and a smile played on his lips—a silent assurance that melted the tension coiling within you. The warmth of his gaze wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, urging you to take a step forward.

Gathering your courage, you stepped from the shadows, the soft fabric of your gown trailing behind you like a whisper. With each step toward him, the fluttering in your stomach grew more assertive, but resolve surged with it. You could do this. You had to ask him for a dance.

“Thranduil,” you began, your voice barely above the music but firm with determination as you reached his side.

He turned to you, his keen blue eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Yes, my bride,” he replied, as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of you. “What is it you wish to say?”

Taking a steadying breath, you found yourself smiling in return. “May I have this dance? As husband and wife?”

The laughter around you hushed for a heartbeat, and an expectant silence fell in the wake of your request. But in an instant, Thranduil’s expression shifted to something different well beyond the exterior of his usual regal demeanor; he extended his hand toward you, intertwining his fingers with yours. “It would be my greatest honor.”

As you placed your hand in his, a rush of warmth surged through you. He led you to the center of the hall, where the music swelled to a lilting tune. Thranduil pulled you close, his touch gentle yet commanding, guiding you as you swayed together. Time felt suspended, every note and movement weaving you deeper into his world, and in that moment, the anxieties began to fade, replaced by the undeniable connection binding your hearts.

With each step you took together, the silence of your self-doubt began to dissolve, and you allowed yourself to simply enjoy the dance—your dance. Thranduil’s lips tugged into a small smile as he expertly twirled you beneath the stars that glimmered through the hall’s high windows, and you couldn’t help but grin, your worries lost in the rhythm of the moment.

In that embrace, under the shimmering lights and the gaze of those around you, you knew one thing for certain—together, you could forge a path that was uniquely yours, filled with love, laughter, and whispers of forever.

“Thranduil?” You spoke quietly, your voice barely audible, but the king's keen ears could hear every syllable, every beat of your heart, every shaky breath. He gazed down at you, his icy, silvery eyes locked upon yours.

“What is it, my darling dove?” Thranduil gazed down at you. His usual intense, unwavering gaze held a rare softness. A softness designed only for you to witness. Your heart fluttered in your chest, feeling as though it were ready to burst.

“Why me? You could have fallen for any other elf in the realm. Why a mere half-elf like me?” The question left your lips with such an ease that it made your heart clench. The sharp lines of Thranduil’s face soften. He slowly brought his hands to gently cup your cheeks, brushing his thumbs against your cheek bones.

“Because you still loved me even when I could not love myself. You brought a light into my life that could puncture through any darkness. Most importantly, you taught me how to love again after centuries of guarding my cold and broken heart. That is why I chose you.” You felt a warmth spread through you, a light chasing away the lingering doubts. As his thumbs glided over your skin, the world around you faded, leaving just the two of you in that sacred space.

“Thranduil,” you whispered, emotion thick in your throat, “I never expected to find such a bond. You’ve given me so much more than I could have ever hoped for.”

With a tender smile, he leaned closer, his forehead brushing against yours. “And you, my beloved, are everything I never knew I needed.”

In that moment, all the fears and uncertainties evaporated, replaced by an overwhelming sense of belonging. The laughter and music of the celebration faded into the background as you lost yourself in the depths of his gaze.

[littlest-w01f]

Snow

Rhysand x Reader

For @officialrhysandweek

Rhysand Week 2024 Masterlist

Day 3: Loved one

Summary: You were just Rhysand's friend, that's what he kept reminding himself as he saw you experience snowfall for the first time.

Cw: Fluff, Rhys is a lil horny, Rhysand's scars, kissing

You were twirling around as snow fell on the balcony of The House of Winds, a giggle leaving your lips, you were from the Day Court, Helion's younger sister, and it was your first time ever seeing snow, since even in the coldest days of winter, it never did in Day Court. You were in a simple Night Court gown, glowing bright like the sun from pure happiness.

Rhysand was leaning against the railing, watching you as snow fell on both of you, the snowfall was gentle, and he enjoyed watching you and the ball of sun you became, "You look happy, my dear friend." He whispered softly, eyes on your lovely dark brown skin, blemish-free, thick black hair braided down your back, covered in little snowflakes, and brown eyes squinted in amusement. He had the thought to put a fluffy cap or coat on you, fearing you would catch a cold since your Day body was most definitely not meant for the too-cold weather.

As Rhysand watched you twirl and laugh, his eyes were drawn to the way the snowflakes clung to your dark cheeks flushed with cold, creating a picture of ethereal beauty that made him momentarily forget about the chill in the air.

You smile brighter, "It's snow! Ice is falling from the sky, Rhys!" You almost squeal from happiness, full of innocent excitement.

Rhysand snorts with amusement, the corners of his mouth curving up. "I do recognize snow, little one."

Rhysand's gaze lingered on your radiant form, his fingers itching to brush away the delicate flakes clinging to your hair and cheeks. Your laughter echoed through the chilly night air, a melodic sound that filled him with warmth despite the frigid temperatures. He'd never seen you so carefree, so unbridled in your joy. It was captivating, and he found himself drawn in, unable to look away.

"I suppose you're right," You said, holding out your palm watching as the snowflakes fell on your palm, "I've never experienced anything like this before. The way the snow falls, the silence… it's so pretty."

Rhysand's expression softened as he saw the happiness in you. "It is, isn't it?" He stood beside you, a snowflake landed on his nose.

You boop his nose making the snowflake melt, "I wanna stay in the snow for a little longer, if it's ok…"

Rhysand chuckled at your playful gesture, the melted snow trickling down his nose. "Of course, my little ray of sunshine. We can stay here as long as you wish."

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as another flurry of snow swirled around you. The icy crystals danced in the moonlight, casting an enchanting glow over the balcony.

As you leaned into his side, Rhysand felt a sense of contentment wash over him. In this moment, surrounded by the tranquil beauty of the snowfall, all the weight of his responsibilities as High Lord seemed to fade away. Here, with you by his side, everything felt right in the world.

You smiled, the snowing had just started to increase, "Thank you…" You chuckled, throwing your head back and sticking your tongue out to catch snow in your mouth.

Rhysand couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle at your antics, watching with amused fascination as you caught the falling snowflakes on your tongue. His own lips twitched upward in a rare, genuine smile, his violet eyes sparkling with mirth.

"You’re quite the delight when you let go of your serious demeanor," he remarked, nudging your shoulder lightly with his own. Despite the cold winter air, being near you warmed him in ways he hadn't expected. Your infectious joy was contagious, filling the quiet balcony with a cheerfulness that even the falling snow couldn't match.

"You should be careful though, Day’s blood makes you susceptible to the cold..." His voice trailed off, the concern evident in his tone.

You shudder softly. leaning into his warmth "How are you still so warm? Is it the Illyrian part of you?" I smile softly, looking up at him

Rhysand shrugged, his broad shoulders moving beneath the layers of his cloak. "Possibly," he admitted. "My Illyrian heritage does give me some resistance to the cold, but I'm also used to these kinds of conditions. My people live in the mountains after all."

His hand moved to rest on the small of your back, drawing you closer still. "But don't worry," he added with a reassuring grin, "I'll make sure you stay warm. Besides, Helion would slaughter me if you returned home from your time here with a stuffy nose. That brother of yours is so overprotective."

The heat radiating from his body was undeniable, enveloping you in its comforting embrace. It was a stark contrast to the biting cold of the snowfall, and you found yourself leaning into him more, seeking the warmth he offered.

You smile, resting your head on his chest, letting him warm you, "Your cold heart is so warm…"

Rhysand snorts, amused. He pulls you closer by wrapping his arms around you, letting you rest your head on his chest as he lets you enjoy his warmth. "You have quite the way with words, little one. You're a true bundle of joy, you know that?" He always called you little one, you were centuries younger than him and Helion, but you both were his first friends outside of Night Court.

Rhysand held you close, feeling the gentle rise and fall of your breath against his chest as you rested there. His own heartbeat slowed, finding a soothing rhythm with yours. In this moment, the title of 'friend' felt insufficient, it didn't capture the depth of connection he shared with you, nor the protectiveness that stirred within him whenever you were near.

"I think you bring warmth wherever you go, y/n," he murmured, his voice a low rumble against your ear. "Even in the dead of winter, your presence is a beacon of light."

His hands smoothed over your back, providing comfort and reassurance. Rhysand knew he shouldn't get too attached, that your worlds were vastly different, you came from different lands, but in the face of your innocent joy and kindness, he found himself wanting to bask in your company for as long as possible.

You yelped, hiding in his chest when the snowfall got heavier. "Oh by the Cauldron…" You sneeze from the sudden cold.

Rhysand chuckled, holding you tighter in his arms as he brought out and wrapped his wings around you and pulled you closer to his body to protect you from the snowfall. "This could continue for a while... You'll get cold if you keep standing here. Let me take you inside."

You nodded "Please take me in… I got too cold…" You sneezed again.

Rhysand's eyes flickered with concern as you sneezed, a clear sign of how much the cold had affected you. Without hesitation, he swept you up into his arms, carrying you towards the warmth of his chambers. His wings flapped gently behind them, shielding you from the relentless snowfall.

Once inside, he laid you down on his little cot near the fireplace, lighting it, "My poor little sunshine, there we go," he murmured, brushing back strands of wet hair from your face. "Better?"

You nodded, "Much better…" You sniff, smiling softly, sitting by the fire. "I think I got a little too cold..."

Rhysand hummed in amusement at your words, relaxed now that you were inside, walking over to look through a chest, pulling out a blanket and laying it near you. "You should change your clothes, little one, they will be colder against your poor skin."

Rhysand handed you the blankets, placing them on either side of you. "Here, they'll help warm you up faster." As he spoke, he began rummaging through another drawer, pulling out one of his thick nightshirts. "And here, wear this. It will be warmer than your soaked clothing."

"I can brew you some hot chocolate, if you'd like." There was something undeniably caring about his actions, a gentleness that made your heart flutter. You watched him move around his room, fetching things to help you feel better, and it struck you just how kind he could be when he wasn't playing the High Lord or trying to manipulate people.

"Hot chocolate sounds lovely, thank you." you said, taking the nightshirt, your back to the door.

When he left, you begin to pull at your wet clothes struggling to get the clothes that are stuck to your body off. Getting the dress only past your bust as you pulled it down from the full sleeves of it, your white cotton lingerie soaked through by the cold water of the melted snow.

Rhysand returned almost instantly with two steaming cups of hot chocolate in hand. Seeing you struggle with your wet garment, he set the drinks aside and approached with a smirk, reaching out to assist you. "Here... Let me help you," he offered, his voice soft and gentle.

You yelp when you see him, making him laugh, "Come on, it's nothing I've not seen before." He teased.

"Well, it's actually not." You shrug, trying to pull your arms from the sleeves, blushing as his eyes go over your soaked clothes. "You've not seen me naked before."

Rhysand shrugged, "Perhaps..." A smirk graced his face, "But it's worked on every other female stripping off her clothes in my room."

With deft movements, he helped you peel away the clinging fabric until you stood before him in nothing. The sight of your flushed cheeks and curves made his heart race as he did you the decency of looking away when you stepped out of your undergarments but he couldn't keep his eyes away for too long.

"Beautiful," he breathed, unable to tear his gaze away from your bare form. You didn't meet his eyes, but a part of you didn't want him to look away. The firelight danced across your skin, highlighting every dip and curve. For a moment, he simply admired the view, committing each detail to memory.

Then, remembering himself, Rhysand cleared his throat and held up the nightshirt. "Arms up," he instructed gently, helping you slip into the garment. The soft fabric engulfed you, falling to mid-thigh and smelling faintly of citrus and smoke, his scent.

"There we go," he murmured once you were decent, though the nightshirt did little to conceal the curve of your breasts or the tempting silhouette of your legs. Rhysand swallowed hard, trying to ignore the stirring of desire within him. "Now, let's get you warmed up properly."

"Why do you look like a 90-year-old fae male who saw boobies for the first time?" You teased him with a raise of your brows, warming your hands with the fire.

Rhysand laughed, shaking his head at your comment. "I saw my first pair of tits when I was 15, darling." He teased, leaning back against the wall beside you. The heat from the fire radiated onto your chilled skin, warming you gradually.

"You flatter yourself," he added, although his eyes kept drifting down to where the neckline of the nightshirt dipped, revealing more of your cleavage than he'd thought would show in that shirt of his, watching you unbraid your hair. "It's just been a while since I've seen such an enticing sight," he admitted candidly, looking up to meet your eyes.

"Now drink your hot chocolate," he suggested, nodding towards the cups he'd placed on the table. "It will help warm you up."

While you were distracted by the fire and hot chocolate, hair open down your back, wavy from being wet, he began to strip out of his own drenched clothes. As he began to remove his wet clothing, Rhysand's muscles rippled with each movement, showcasing their well-toned state. He peeled off his jacket, revealing a fitted black shirt underneath that clung to his torso, outlining his impressive physique and chiselled abs, dragging it off his body showed the scars and ink that littered his body.

He then slid off his trousers, revealing strong thighs and calves that flexed with each step. Rhysand tossed the damp garments onto the pile with yours, leaving him clad only in his boxers, black, tight, and leaving very little to the imagination.

The sight of his toned physique made your mouth water, and you couldn't help but admire him. But then, you remembered what you were doing and turned back to the fire, your cheeks glowing with your power, sipping your hot chocolate.

"Oh, you can look, sunshine." Rhysand purred, "I don't mind." With that he slipped his boxers off, throwing them in the same pile.

Your eyes widened as Rhysand discarded his final article of clothing, revealing his naked form in all its glory, you couldnt keep your eyes away from any piece of his magnificent body. His cock hung heavy between his muscular thighs, already semi-hard from the cool air and your lingering glances.

"In fact, I quite enjoy having your eyes on me." His voice was low and husky, sending shivers down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

Rhysand reached out, trailing a finger along your jawline and tilting your chin up so you met his heated gaze. "You're beautiful, little one," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "I want you to know that I find you incredibly desirable." His eyes flicked down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. "More than you can possibly imagine."

"Helion might roast you alive." You heat up almost instantly at the close proximity of his nude body to yours.

A wicked grin spread across Rhysand's face at your words, his hand still caressing your cheek. "Perhaps Helion might roast me alive if he knew I was lusting after his baby sister," he mused aloud, stepping closer to press his hard chest against your breasts. "But right now, I'm not thinking about consequences…"

His fingers trailed lower, tracing the curve of your neck before dipping below the neckline of the nightshirt, teasing the sensitive skin of your collarbone. "I'm thinking about how good you taste."

Your eyes are taken by the scar going over his side when your head bends to give him access to your neck, "Who did that to you?" You reach your hand to feel the mark

Rhysand chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead as his hand continued its descent, over the swell of your breast, feeling the firmness beneath the thick material. "Ah, that?" he asked, referring to the long, jagged scar that ran across his ribs. "A nasty fight years ago. No one worth mentioning, really. Just someone who got too full of themselves and decided to pick a fight with the High Lord of Night." Despite the casual tone, there was a hardness in his voice, a hint of the powerful fae leader lurking beneath the surface.

Seeing the way your eyes lingered on his scars, Rhysand felt a strange warmth settle in his chest. "It's alright, love," he whispered, noticing the change in your demeanour. "No need to hide those looks. I've been hurt plenty, but I've also healed. And in some ways, those scars make me who I am today."

He leaned in closer, his breath tickling your earlobe as he spoke. "Besides, they don't receive much of my attention. Not like how I want to give you." His hand moved from your breast to rest on the small of your back, pulling you even closer to him, completely pressed against each other.

Rhysand's fingers traced gentle patterns on your back as he gazed at you, his eyes drinking in every detail of your face. "Your beauty is mesmerizing, little one," he said, his voice low and reverent. "From the way your hair falls in soft waves around your shoulders to the delicate curve of your eyelashes, every part of you is a work of art. It makes me want to lose myself in you completely."

His touch seared through the thin fabric of the nightshirt. "And when you smile… oh, when you smile, it's like the sun breaking through the clouds after a storm, the storm has ended, and there is a bright full rainbow in the sky, like the world is smiling. It lights up everything around you and makes my heart skip a beat. I ache to touch you, to taste you, to explore every inch of your perfect self." Rhysand's thumb brushed over your lower lip, his eyes never leaving yours. "I love you, y/n. I've loved you for so long."

"Rhys…" You breathe out, lost in his intense gaze and sweet words. Your heart races at his intimate touches and the raw desire in his eyes. You feel yourself getting pulled deeper under his spell, all that matters is the heat building between your bodies and the undeniable pull drawing you together. You reach up to cup his cheek, marvelling at the contrast of your soft skin against his rougher texture. Your other hand presses flat against his chest, feeling the thud of his heartbeat pulsing steadily beneath your palm. You tilt your head up invitingly, silently begging him to close the distance between your mouths. The tension crackles between you, electric and charged with barely restrained passion.

His lips hovered tantalizingly close to yours. The depth of emotion in his eyes took your breath away, and the confession of his feelings sent a thrill coursing through your veins. His words echoed in your ears, resonating with truth and sincerity that touched something deep within you.

As you looked into his eyes, you saw the raw vulnerability there, hidden behind layers of charm and wit. In that moment, you realized just how much he meant to you. This male, this High Lord of Night, held a piece of your heart that no one else could claim. And you found yourself unable to resist him.

Slowly, deliberately, you closed the gap between your lips, capturing his in a tender, passionate kiss. Hoping it said everything you wished for him to know.

Rhysand's arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush against his bare chest as he deepened the kiss. His tongue swept against your lips, seeking entrance, and you opened willingly, losing yourself in the sensual dance of tongues and teeth. The taste of him was intoxicating - a heady mix of spice and darkness that left you craving more. Something you found yourself losing in.

{General Taglist - @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @dee-writes-smut @adalia-jaycee @anarchiii @alwayshave-faith}

{Rhysand Taglist - @yeonalie}

{RhysandWeek Taglist - @andreperez11}

[knoepfl]

“Through the Looking Glass”

Characters:

Jervis Tetch (Mad Hatter) – A deranged and lonely man obsessed with Alice in Wonderland, using mind control to twist others into playing roles in his delusions.

Reader (You) – A new obsession for Jervis. He sees you as his perfect "Alice" and will do anything to keep you by his side.

Trigger Warnings:

Obsession and mental manipulation

Kidnapping and mind control themes

Unreliable perception of reality

Masterlist

Words: 1063

The narrow streets of Gotham were shrouded in a thick mist, moonlight filtering weakly through the haze. You knew it was dangerous to wander alone at night, but something had compelled you to move through the darkness, as if pulled by invisible strings.

And then, you’d found him—or maybe he’d found you.

You woke up in a room draped with tattered silk and moth-eaten velvet, the air heavy with the scent of stale tea and dusty books. A single flickering lamp cast uneven shadows across the mismatched furniture, giving everything a distorted, dreamlike quality.

“Ah, my dear!” a familiar, singsong voice echoed from the doorway. “You’ve finally arrived. The long wait is over—at last, Alice is home.”

You blinked groggily, disoriented, your head pounding as you tried to sit up. Across the room stood a slender man dressed in a patchwork suit, his wide-brimmed top hat tilted at a jaunty angle. His pale face stretched into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“W-Where am I?” you whispered, glancing around.

Jervis Tetch clasped his hands together, a delighted laugh bubbling from his lips. “Where you’re supposed to be, my dear—right here, with me! The Mad Hatter and his Alice, just as it’s meant to be. Isn’t it wonderful?”

You frowned, rubbing your temples, trying to piece together how you ended up here. You remembered… nothing. Just foggy images—his voice, warm and inviting, guiding you through the night. And now you were here, wherever here was.

“Let me go,” you said, heart racing. “I don’t belong here.”

Jervis’s smile faltered for only a second before snapping back into place, though the cheer in his eyes flickered with something far more dangerous. “No, no, no, my dear… you mustn’t say such silly things. Of course you belong here—you’re my Alice. And every Alice needs her Wonderland!”

He stepped closer, movements light and graceful, as though he were gliding through a dream. “The real world is so… dreadful, don’t you think? But here, oh… here, we can play and dance and drink tea forever.”

You tried to stand, but your legs wobbled beneath you. Jervis caught you before you could collapse, his hands strangely gentle. “Careful now,” he cooed, “you’ve had quite the journey. You must rest, my dear. There’s so much to do, so much to see—but first, you must adjust.”

His words sent a chill down your spine. “What did you do to me?”

Jervis tilted his head, as if pondering the question. “I only gave you what you needed. A way out, a way here. You see, the world is cruel, my sweet Alice. It breaks hearts, crushes dreams…” His voice dropped into a hushed whisper. “But not in Wonderland. Not here with me.”

You pulled back from him, your pulse thundering in your ears. “I’m not Alice. I don’t even know who you are!”

The corner of his mouth twitched, his expression twisting into something equal parts disappointment and frustration. “Ah, my dear… You’ve forgotten, haven’t you? But that’s quite all right. Memory can be such a troublesome thing. In time, it will come back.”

He crouched before you, tilting his head like a curious child. “You see, everyone needs a story, my dear. A role to play. And yours… oh, yours is the most important of all. You are Alice, and I—” He gave a grand, sweeping bow. “—am your humble Mad Hatter.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, every instinct screaming at you to run, but your limbs refused to obey. A strange, hazy warmth clouded your mind, as though a part of you were slipping deeper into his web with every passing second.

“Don’t fight it,” he whispered, his voice soft and hypnotic. “The more you resist, the more it hurts. Just let go… and fall through the looking glass.”

Jervis took your hand gently, guiding you toward a small, cluttered table set with chipped porcelain cups and mismatched saucers. The teapot in the center let off a trail of steam, filling the room with the scent of chamomile and madness.

“Sit, sit!” he urged, practically vibrating with excitement. “We must have tea—oh, yes! A very merry un-birthday to you!”

You sank into the chair without meaning to, as though your body responded to his commands without your permission.

He poured tea with a flourish, eyes gleaming with manic joy. “Ah, isn’t this perfect? Just as it should be. No more lonely nights. No more searching. We’re together now, and we’ll never be apart.”

You stared into the swirling tea, mind racing as you tried to break free of the strange fog dulling your thoughts. “Please… let me go.”

Jervis paused, teapot still in hand, his expression darkening like a sudden storm. “Let you go?” His voice was soft, almost hurt. Then, slowly, it twisted into a low, bitter laugh. “Oh, Alice… You still don’t understand, do you? You’re already gone.”

He reached out, tracing a finger along the rim of your cup. “There is no escape from Wonderland, my dear. No way out, no way back. This is where you belong. With me.”

His hand drifted to your cheek, caressing it with unsettling tenderness. “We’ll be so happy here. I’ll keep you safe, my sweet Alice. No one will ever hurt you again.”

Tears stung your eyes as you fought against the haze, struggling to remember who you were before this nightmare began. But the memories were slippery, fading like smoke through your fingers.

Jervis’s gaze softened, and for a brief, haunting moment, you saw something vulnerable in his eyes—something desperate and broken, clinging to the only fantasy that gave his fractured mind meaning.

“Don’t cry, my dear,” he whispered, leaning closer. “You’re home now. And I’ll take care of you… always.”

His voice was a lullaby, drawing you deeper into the dream. The room seemed to spin, the edges of reality unraveling like threads pulled from a tapestry.

“You’ll see,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “In time, you’ll forget all about that dreadful world. And then, my dear Alice…” His lips curled into a soft, dreamy smile. “We’ll be together, forever and ever.”

And as the world faded around you, slipping into a haze of tea parties and riddles, you realized—maybe you were already too far gone to wake up.

Because in his Wonderland, the Mad Hatter always got his Alice...

[yuujispinkhair]

Separation Anxiety (Chapter 15 - Epilogue)

Put your lips on my scars and teach me to love

When a ritual separates Sukuna from Yuuji, Sukuna is delighted to find that besides having his own body, there is also another gift handed to him: The brat has lost all his memories and is now the perfect little plaything to take home and manipulate. At least, that's the plan. But the King of Curses isn't prepared for the feelings that come along with being human again. And another complication is how cute the brat is when he has no idea who Sukuna is and, instead of hating him, treats him with genuine love and affection. So, without realizing it, Sukuna suddenly finds himself on a journey of learning how to be loved and how to love.

++ Masterpost ++

Pairing: Sukuna x Yuuji Genre: Memory Loss AU, fluff, smut, light angst Word Count: 2.8k Playlist: Separation Anxiety Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of violence, dub-con (Yuuji has lost his memories, and Sukuna lies to him about being boyfriends). All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

Chapter 15 - Epilogue

We can meet in the middle, bodies and souls collide. Dance in the moonlight when all the stars align for you and I. (You and I - Stripped by PVRIS)

Sukuna's hand is clutched tightly in Yuuji's as they enter the small park in front of their apartment. Not for their daily morning run this time but for a stroll in the evening. Yuuji wants to see the fairy lights and LED decorations that have been put up all over the park for Christmas. And, of course, Sukuna can't say no to him, and so he lets Yuuji pull him excitedly along.

Yuuji is marveling at the pretty lights, and Sukuna has to admit that it looks pretty the way all those colorful lights turn the park into a magical-looking winter wonderland. Though Sukuna's gaze, more often than not, strays from the decorations along the path to the young man beside him.

He smiles softly as he watches Yuuji and sees the childlike happiness on his face as Yuuji takes in all the decorations. No matter how many terrible things have happened to Yuuji over the years, he is still able to find genuine joy in these simple things. An admirable trait, Sukuna thinks. Something he used to see as naivety, but now he knows it is part of the immense strength that Yuuji has.

Yuuji catches Sukuna staring at him and grins broadly, giving Sukuna's hand a squeeze as he jerks his chin towards the decorated park,

"Do you like it? It's beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. Just like you, my love."

Sukuna smiles at Yuuji, and Yuuji throws his head back, laughing that delighted laughter that lights up his whole face, before he bumps into Sukuna's side and presses a firm kiss onto Sukuna's cheek,

"Aww baby, you are making me blush!"

He keeps peppering little kisses all over Sukuna's cheek, making Sukuna laugh and call him a huge brat affectionately, gently pushing at Yuuji's shoulders until the boy stops and smiles at him, big golden eyes gazing pensively at Sukuna as Yuuji adds in a much softer voice,

"I am so happy to be here with you. I'm so happy we are together."

He is still standing so close to Sukuna, and his golden eyes gaze deeply into Sukuna's, holding absolute sincerity and that unwavering conviction that only Itadori Yuuji has.

Sukuna's breath catches in his throat. A few weeks ago, he thought he had lost Yuuji and everything that had been between them. He thought he didn't deserve Yuuji's kindness and love. And yet, now they are here together again, and no words could ever be powerful enough to convey how grateful Sukuna is for that. But he tries anyway,

"Yuuji?"

"Yes?"

Those golden eyes look at him with so much love, and Sukuna feels himself falling even deeper into the warmth and safety that Itadori Yuuji has become to him. All the people around them disappear. There is only Yuuji standing in front of Sukuna in the middle of their park, the place they have made so many memories in, and the words tumble so easily from Sukuna's mouth all of a sudden, so honest, so raw but unafraid because he knows Yuuji will always be gentle with Sukuna's heart.

"Thank you for wanting to stay by my side even after you discovered the truth. Thank you for giving me a chance to learn how beautiful it can be just to exist as a human being. For a thousand years, I thought the moment I would be reincarnated, I would bring a reign of terror over humanity and gradually destroy this world. But now I don't want that anymore. How could I destroy this world when you live in it and when I can find so much happiness in it with you? You taught me love and how to enjoy all these little human things, like this Christmas garden with those fairy lights.

There is a red string of fate tying us together. I didn't realize it initially, but it was always meant to be. You were made for me. And I was meant to find you in this life. Even when I forcibly separated us, I couldn't walk away from you because something bound me to you. Do you know that I felt a phantom pain in my chest because we weren't sharing a body anymore? I needed you near me to make it stop.

My first life wasn't a good one. But I am one of the few blessed ones who got a second chance, and I want to do it better this time. I want to walk a different path, and I think with you by my side, I can do it. Will you stay with me, Yuuji? Will you walk on this new path with me? Will you help me live a better life? Will you help me be a human man instead of a monster?"

Sukuna's breath comes out as little foggy clouds in the freezing night air, adding to the magical atmosphere the park has tonight. And Yuuji is smiling at him while tears glitter in his beautiful eyes.

"Of course I will. I will always stay with you. And as I said before, you aren't a monster to me, Sukuna. Let's try our best to live a happy life and be as human as possible."

A pair of strong arms wraps around Sukuna's waist, comforting him, anchoring him to this world, to this life.

Sukuna wraps his arms around Yuuji, too, holding him while he tells him,

"I used to think the only things that mattered were power and strength. But you showed me other things. These things that I have with you... going to the park, watching movies, cooking together, and all those other small things that bring so much joy and peace. I want this. I want what we have. I want this quiet, happy life with you."

Sukuna cups Yuuji's cheek, caressing it gently with his thumb. And he adds after a moment, with a soft voice full of tenderness,

"I want this until my last dying breath. You and me. Yuuji and Sukuna. I want us to be together in this life and every other life that comes after it."

He knows it will happen because he knows their souls will always find each other again in every life in every alternate universe. Their connection has been woven into what holds this universe together. There is no doubt about it.

And Yuuji seems to know it, too, with the way he beams at Sukuna and smiles that sweet, happy smile. He leans into Sukuna's touch and reaches out to mimic Sukuna's gesture, cupping Sukuna's cheek with his hand and cradling Sukuna's face gently in his palm,

"I want that, too. You and I, that's how it's supposed to be. You're my home, and I am yours. Forever. I promise you, Kuna."

Sukuna smiles softly. The phantom pain in his chest is gone completely, replaced by a comforting warmth. He closes the remaining distance between them by pressing his lips to Yuuji's in a slow, tender kiss.

Sukuna doesn't know how long they stand there in the park in front of their shrine, just kissing and holding each other while the world moves on around them. But Sukuna becomes aware of a cold sensation on his forehead, and at the same moment, Yuuji pulls slightly away to look up at the sky and exclaim loudly,

"It's snowing! Look how pretty!"

Of course, Sukuna is used to snow. There was a lot more of it back in Heian times than there is nowadays. Back then, it was a nuisance. Too cold, too wet, turning the paths that lead to Sukuna's temple into mud that stuck uncomfortably to his feet. But right now, here with Yuuji, Sukuna can appreciate the beauty of the thick white snowflakes that slowly fall down around them, as if time has slowed down and everything happens in slow motion. It's peaceful. Beautiful.

Yuuji laughs and takes a step back, grabbing Sukuna's hands and giving them a squeeze as his eyes sparkle happily,

"Come on, dance with me in the snow! I always wanted to do that!"

Sukuna huffs and laughs, but he reaches out immediately when Yuuji slips on some snow-covered leaves on the ground, catching him before he can fall, and it only makes Yuuji laugh louder.

One of Sukuna's arms is wrapped around Yuuji's waist, holding him, and their eyes lock. For a long moment, they just look at each other, two people lost in each other's eyes. Two people who are each other's world. And suddenly, Sukuna knows that, yes, he will dance with Yuuji in the snow. Because why not? In this life, he can have all those little joys. The boy he loves wants to dance in the snow with him, and Sukuna would be a fool to say no.

He grins at Yuuji and tightens his arm around Yuuji's waist, pulling him closer. Sukuna is leading the dance, steering Yuuji in the right direction, spinning him slowly around while the snowflakes fall down around them, joining in on Sukuna's and Yuuji's slow dance.

Yuuji is laughing unrestrainedly, loud and happy while Sukuna tries to keep an aloof expression, but he fails and instead begins laughing too, as he continues to spin Yuuji around, careful not to let him fall, a strong arm wrapped safely around Yuuji's waist, the fingers of his other hand gently interlaced with Yuuji's. Sukuna dips Yuuji down, causing Yuuji to laugh even louder as the snowflakes tumble down around him and land on his pink hair like a crown. Sukuna can't stop staring at him, mesmerized by Yuuji's beauty, not just by the beauty of his face but also by the beauty of his soul.

5 years later

Sukuna wakes up to the feeling of a warm, heavy body lying half on top of him and soft hair lightly tickling his chin. The feeling of Yuuji wrapped around him like a lazy cat. And Sukuna smiles softly to himself as he runs a large hand through the soft pink hair, caressing it in a gesture so tender it still manages to surprise him even so many years later.

Yuuji never got his memories back, but he told Sukuna he doesn't mind. We are creating new memories every day, and that's all that counts. That's what Yuuji said to Sukuna, smiling that sweet sunshine smile at him, a typical display of his optimistic nature. And Sukuna smiled back and kissed him.

Yes, that is all they need. Yuuji is happy with his life, with the here and now and the future that lies ahead of them. And Sukuna plans to make it a bright future for them both. Another thing Yuuji taught him. Seeking happiness and peace instead of war. Creating a life that is beautiful because of its ordinary nature, a peaceful life filled with little joys like eating your favorite dinner, watching a movie or reading a book you enjoy, taking a walk in the park with the man you love by your side, or making love to him on your shared bed while you look deeply into each other's eyes.

Sukuna hums softly in the depths of his chest as Yuuji stirs lightly, but only to cuddle even closer to Sukuna.

"I know you are awake, darling."

Sukuna says, his low voice full of affection. Yuuji whines and hugs him tighter, mumbling sleepily against Sukuna's chest,

"Just a few more minutes, baby."

And, of course, Sukuna gives him those few more minutes. They still have all day to celebrate their anniversary. Five years of being married to each other. Sukuna booked a table at their favorite restaurant, and hidden in his nightstand is another gift. A poem. Just like people used to write them in Heian times to court their beloved. Sukuna had been an enjoyer of poetry back then but never wrote a poem on his own. The themes of those poems, love and beauty, had seemed too far away from him. Unreachable for a monster like him.

Now, Sukuna can't seem to stop the words flowing from his pen anytime he sits down to write. Poems about golden eyes and warm smiles. Poems about the person who became his home. Poems about true love.

Love.

It used to be something Sukuna thought he'd never be able to feel. Something he didn't even want to feel because it terrified him. But things have changed. Sukuna has changed. But he knows that he would have never been able to learn love by himself. He needed Yuuji to teach him. Sukuna needed the man who is the other half of his soul.

That's why Sukuna was never able to love before. Because no one else was Yuuji.

- The end -

OMGGGG THIS WAS IT 😭 Thank you so much for staying until the end!

Separation Anxiety was my biggest project. I started writing it in 2021. But at that time, I knew I couldn't do this idea justice because it was a very complex story to write, and I feared I wasn't skilled enough to write about the gradually changing emotions in a convincing way. So I kept it in the drafts and occasionally added something to the story. And then, as I grew as a writer, I finally decided it was time to start editing and posting this fic.

I had wanted to finish it for months but never got into the right headspace to put the finishing touches to the final chapter. And then Gege dropped those amazing epilogues and that beautiful art of Sukuna and Yuuji dancing in the snow, and it gave me the motivation to finally finish this story!

I have been crying for days over the new content Gege gave us 😭😭 I wrote the first draft of the final chapter after going to a Christmas Garden three years ago, and now everything has come full circle after Gege finished JJK with an epilogue about snow and that picture of Sukuna and Yuuji dancing in the snow. It just feels so right. The ending for Separation Anxiety was always planned to happen during Christmas time. And now I decided to also add the dancing scene after Gege blessed us with that picture 💗

I hope you enjoyed the ending. Separation Anxiety is a work of love, and I hope you can feel this love when you read it. No other characters have ever touched me as much as Yuuji and Sukuna, and I am so happy that I could explore them and their relationship in this story.

Thank you again for sticking with this story until the end and for all the sweet comments and patience. I am so sorry that I wasn't able to respond to all of your comments, but I read all of them, and I cried so many happy tears about them. I will always be grateful for all your love and support!

THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU WHO WENT ON THIS JOURNEY WITH SUKUNA, YUUJI AND ME 😭😭💗

[the-fiction-witch]

Water

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Jacaerys Velaryon Couple - Jacaerys X Reader Reader - Y/n Tully Rating - Sweet Word Count - 1029

Jacaerys was forced through the dragon stone corridors, to met with his betrothal. He was to marry her tomorrow morning. He was... feeling both excitement and trepidation. He had dressed himself in his finest clothes and styled his hair carefully, his nerves mingling with anticipation. Arriving at the designated chamber, Jacaerys took a deep breath to steady himself before raising his hand to knock, the sound echoing softly in the corridor.

A soft voice answered his knock calling him inside.

Jacaerys makes his way into the chamber seeing the fire burning bright, the balcony to the water that surrounds Dragonstone, and most importantly a woman…

She stands by the fireplace watching the flames burn, she has long curls braided intricately for this meeting, and she has eyes that glimmer She wore a gown of deep blue and silver with embroidered waves and scales across the fabric, She turns to him and bows low her eyes on the floor "Prince Jacaerys, of house Velaryon," she greeted

Jacaerys bowed his head in respect, a small smile playing upon his lips.

"The honour is all mine, Y/n," he replied warmly, his eyes taking in the intricate details of her gown. His gaze wandered over the embroidered waves and scales, feeling a familiar sense of admiration for the sea-themed motifs. "You look absolutely lovely, if I may say so. Your gown truly embodies the beauty of the sea."

"I thought it fitting for us, yourself a velaryon. Myself a Tully. We are creatures of the water you And I. But I must admit I'm sure you prefer fire given the Targaryen half of yourself"

Jacaerys chuckled softly, the mention of his Valyrian heritage bringing a hint of a dragon's glint to his gaze. "Ah, yes, the fire in my veins does stir at times," he confessed with a wry smile. "But let me assure you, my Tully betrothed, the water runs strong in me, too. The Velaryons are a sea-faring house, and the salt is just as much a part of my blood as the dragonfire."

"I'm glad, Tully's have a long history of the waterways our castle even known as river run. I hoped water filled both our blood somewhat"

He smiled at her words, his fondness growing for her already. "Then it seems our affinity for the water will bond us further. Our union shall be a true joining of our houses, connecting the sea and the river in the most profound way," he proclaimed, his eyes shining with warmth and a flicker of something more as he gazed at her.

"I can but hope so Prince Jacaerys" she curtsied once more,

"No need for formalities, my Lady," Jacaerys replied softly, extending his hand to her. "We are soon to be married, after all. Let us enjoy these moments together without titles. Just Jacaerys will suffice."

"very well, I suppose it is foolish to have such need for formalities when we are to wed in meer hours." She chuckled "Then just Y/n I insist,"

"Y/n," he echoed gently, his voice laced with warmth. "It suits you."

He then gestured to the window, where the sea stretched out beyond the horizon. "Would you care to join me on the balcony? The fresh evening air could do us both some good." He extended his arm, offering to escort her to the open air.

"I'd be delighted Jacaerys" she nodded taking his arm and happily being escorted like a proper young lady out,

As they stepped out onto the balcony, the cool evening breeze brushed against their skin, carrying with it the salty scent of the sea. Jacaerys leaned against the rough stone of the battlements, his gaze fixed on the moonlit waves in the distance. He turned to Y/n, the corner of his lips tugging into a smile as he noticed how the moonlight seemed to dance in her hair. "Beautiful, is it not?" he said softly.

"it is truly, I admit I have never seen the coast before it is beautiful, dare I ask what is across the way?"

"That," Jacaerys said, pointing towards the moonlit horizon, "That is Essos. Beyond the Narrow Sea. Across those waters lie continents, cities and villages, cultures and people that are worlds different from Westeros." He turned to Y/n, his eyes filled with excitement. "I've always dreamt of exploring beyond the water's edge, exploring the lands our ancestors left behind. Perhaps one day we'll have the chance to see it together."

"I'd like that, I have heard tales of the distant east, of the boiling isles, or ashi, old valyeria and yeen. Such places seem impossible but I suppose I think Dragonstone seemed impossible once" She chuckled

He laughed softly at her words, his heart warmed by her curiosity. "Dragonstone is nothing more than a stepping stone for such grand adventures," he agreed, the spark of wanderlust igniting within his eyes. He reached out to gently tuck a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering for a moment on the curve of her jaw, his touch as delicate as a feather. "The world is vast and full of wonders, Y/n, and I would be honoured to explore them with you by my side," he said in a low voice, his gaze fixed on hers. His hand, still holding her chin, gently turned her face towards the moonlit sea. "Look at the moonlight dancing on the waves. Don't you think it's as though the water is calling out to us?"

"they do seem to" she nodded "I admit I can somewhat imagine us taking to the water someday, to explore the far east, ship at our command, Vermax flying over head, it seems so perfect"

He nodded thoughtfully, the image she painted of their future adventures taking hold in his mind. "The sound of it is tantalizing, isn't it? The wind in our hair, the spray of the sea, and Vermax soaring above us, leading the way." As they stood on the balcony, he found himself imagining the possibilities. "Perhaps someday we will make that dream a reality," he added with a soft smile, his gaze fixed on the alluring expanse of black waves.

“Perhaps, someday,” she smiled as she took his hand and gave it a squeeze, he smiled back and kissed her hand softly.

[chericheribaby]

mid-story line tag!

10 lines from the middle of 10 fics & tagging 10 people

ty for the tags <3 @lifeisabitch-butimcute & @rae-lune sorry for taking so long!

beyond the horizon

“I’m losing it, Remus.”  “Shut it James, I’m driving through a fucking corn field and I can’t see shit—” “Language.” “Are you being fucking for real right now? You absolute— Watch out!” His uncle takes another sharp turn to avoid a combine and they’re back to another road, a smaller one, in between the crops.  Harry can see the thing they’re chasing a little better. It looks like an orb, like a big shiny ball. All gold exterior with big translucent wings. It’s a really pretty thing, if Harry says so himself. “System of Non-Intrusive Technology for Crops and Harvest, ” his dad explains, without Harry even saying a word. “Or SNITCH, for short. It’s a powerful drone. The wings alone could power up an entire farm.” “That’s why we’re chasing it?”  His dad’s smile is full of teeth. “We also like the thrill of it, don’t you agree?”

moonlight serenade

Sirius remembers the day they brought him home, all rosy cheeks and wild raven hair. Sirius remembers being scared out of his mind when his brother passed the tiny bundle to him, and Moony, what if I drop it, that would make me the worst godfather in the world, but he didn’t, and Harry held Sirius’ finger with his whole tiny hand and Sirius—well, he was the one who ended up falling. “I will take him back to bed,” James offers, standing up. Regulus nods and Harry leans away, letting his father kiss him goodnight on his forehead before he lets himself be scooped up by James. “Goodnight Siri,” he says, still yawning. “Goodnight, Haz.”  Harry looks over his dad’s shoulders at Sirius the whole way to his room.

the way home

“There will be a time when you will have to uphold the Black name and make something of it but if you insist on keeping this ruse up, you will leave us no choice, Regulus. The families are talking, and they’re not saying anything good about you.” “I don’t care about what they say about me.”  “I’ll make you.” Regulus bites back his panic. “What does it matter that much? I’m not even the heir, mother. Sirius is.” “Sirius belongs to the Black name, yes. We always planned it as such. But you, Regulus.” His mother smiles, cruel. “You belong to me.”

as warm as the Calabrian sun

“Is it for that fancy pants restaurant you work in?” Regulus splutters. “ No, I know how to make chicken soup. I’m a chef, dumbass.” “Then why do you ask? Why would you need my chicken soup recipe if you know how to make one already?” Regulus can literally hear the change of his tone, from curiosity to poorly concealed glee. "Is this about that crush of yours? The baker?” “No,” Regulus responds quickly, perhaps a little too quickly. “It is! ” his brother singsongs, delighted. “What happened to him, is he sick?”

light as a feather, soft as a kiss

“I— I don’t think anyone wants me there,” he says, swallowing the shame. “I want you there,” Harry frowns in confusion, as if the thought of anyone not wanting Draco is preposterous. Now it's Draco’s turn to feel his cheeks on fire.  “I— I’ll think about it,” he says, like he would ever say no to Harry. “Yeah, okay, fair enough,” Harry smiles the most dazzling smile at him and Draco can’t help to return the favor, only with a most reserved one. “You ready, Harry?” Weasley’s voice reaches them from the hall. 

slow dancing in the dark

It was a stupid meaningless fight and yet, one moment James was there, listening to his petty commentary and the next, he wasn’t. Regulus was really worked up to actually noticed the steps going away, door opening and closing. James used to go away when he was frustrated and needed it to cool off, but it never went on more than a few hours, James said he couldn’t spend too long away from him, no matter how mad he would get.  So at first, Regulus didn’t care.  Right now, though? Regulus feels miserable. He just wants to hold his husband, hide in the curve of his neck and tell him that he didn’t mean to, that his temper sometimes gets the better of him. He wants to say that he misses him and that he will put in  the work, that he’s going to change and—  The sound of someone knocking on the door cuts Regulus’ rambling.

some sunny day

“Bite me, Pettigrew,” he hisses, dropping the seawater in the dry sand for Lily to mould another tower.  “Put your money where your mouth is and I might Evan, don’t think I wouldn’t,” Peter winks at him and James suspects the red on Evan’s cheeks is not because of the sun.  “That’s my boyfriend you’re talking about! What, am I invisible or something?” Barty chastises from where he’s helping Pandora dig a hole in the sand to fill with water.  “That was for you too, Crouch, unless you two don’t come as a package? a pity, then,” Peter shrugs ignoring Barty’s poor attempts to say anything back.  Lily groans from behind her castle.

when it rains

Oh, that man. Sirius is fucking blushing again. What is going on with him? He somehow has the power to make Sirius into a stuttering mess. He wants to snog him just for that but he can’t. What if Sirius is misreading things? Padfoot, on the other hand, has no such qualms. After all, he has always had a wicked sense of humour. Sirius could bet anything his dog can almost sense Sirius’ attraction to the man next to him. In times like this, when Sirius’ future is at stake, Padfoot is the kind of dog that can’t help but give his human a hand. Or a paw. Or in this case, a push.

np tags: @angel-daydreams @veryinnovative @static-radio-ao3 @residentrookie @kaaaaaaarf @lavenderhaze @ecstarry @messymoony @fruityindividual (sorry if you already did this im so late hehe) and open tag!!

[satureja13]

Jack's Therapy Game (From the beginning: -> here)

After Jack cared for the horses and Lou prepared the room for Jack, they went over to the Pub. Jack didn't get kicked out like Vlad and no one asked about his 'status'.

Jack: "About the money for the room and stuff... I'll get a job right tomorrow morning. I heard the sculptor is hiring." Lou: "Oh no, no one works for the sculptor." Jack: "I don't have problems to take my shirt off." Lou: "It's not this. We don't talk about it. Don't you worry, you can help me at the shop."

Lou noticed Jack's rash. Lou: "Isn't this painful? I've heard about this. Did your Alpha die? If you don't get this treated you might die too, you know that, don't you?" Jack: "No, he didn't die - it's uhm... complicated and yes..." Now that he thinks about it, it doesn't hurt! He didn't even pay attention since he was so stressed about being locked up. But as far as he remembers, it didn't hurt since he entered the game!

Jack: "I'm fine :3 So, are these your horses?" Lou: "No, Lunatic belongs to no one but he kind of lives here and Val is the horse of my best friend from the neighboring village. But he's here all the time because they are deeply in love." Jack: "Is that so." Does that mean this friend is NPC Jeb? Well, since Ji Ho and some of their other friends are also here as NPCs, it would make sense. Jack hopes he can talk to one of them soon to see how 'real' their NPC versions are. Tiny Can maybe does this so they feel comfortable in their therapy.

Even the Queen and the Prince Caleb are here tonight. And he's seen NPC Leander, Barfolomew and: Greg -.- But the Queen and Greg don't sit together. Like at the Arena. That's good news! Jack: "Is the Queen married?" Lou: "No. And she's only the Queen here until the Prince gets married to Princess Jihovere." Princess Jihovere? Caleb and Ji Ho will get married here? OMG! And the Queen will not stay the Queen here so his chances to hit on her just increased! (Omg Jack!) ('Jihovere' refers to 'Guinevere', the beloved wife of King Arthur.)

Jack and Lou had a good time at the pub and Jack has a good feeling about this therapy. For once he can try to act like a 'more normal' person in this world and see what he could achieve. No one here knows about his disorders and hardships. And here he can experience what his life could be if he overcame/worked on some of them. He's fully aware that he can't be 'healed' and he knows that his friends love him and worry about him and try to protect him. But he also gets the feeling that this keeps him from prospering. He'll talk about this with the others when he's back. But he's going to stay a little longer because he really likes Lou and they have so much fun together. And the pain is gone. Jack hadn't felt this good for a very long time.

'Everybody here is out of sight They don't bark, and they don't bite They keep things loose, they keep 'em tight Everybody was dancin' in the moonlight

Dancin' in the moonlight Everybody's feelin' warm and bright It's such a fine and natural sight Everybody's dancin' in the moonlight

We like our fun and we never fight You can't dance and stay uptight It's a supernatural delight Everybody was dancin' in the moonlight'

Dancing in the Moonlight - Thin Lizzy

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest Current Chapter: 🕹️ 'The One' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

[llondonfog]

twst (horror) tober — day 1 (listen)

and we're back for round 2!! to keep my sanity this year, i'm going to do my best to keep prompts to ~500 words. if some go longer, then more delight for us all, but this is to keep my expectations manageable and who knows? perhaps i might come back to some of these prompts the way that i still am so very fond of 2022's twstober drabbles :) anyways, i do hope you enjoy the first day's piece! (fun fact: this is a snippet from a fic idea i have buried away....) and of course, these will eventually go up on ao3 when i have the time<3

➤ Day 1: Listen | "Listen to me!"

Sebek is haunted.

Not in the way that his family and friends and neighbors who pass him by on the street and cast him pitying, sorrowful glances think— but oh, how he wishes that he was.

He hears their whispers and murmured commiseration, the hushed voices that speak of a lonely boy lost to the clutches of the unforgiving woods. They shake their heads weighed with grief like the cattails by the river, unable to imagine the gruesome sight that one of their own had stumbled upon— ah, but it was the nature of the world they bargained to live in. A true shame, a tragic reminder, that the youngest Zigvolt was fated to learn such realities from the death of his dearest friend.

Sebek does not correct them.

It is better to let them believe that his drained expression was on account of having found Silver's body mauled in the woods by the animals they are familiar with, rather than the true ones that lurk deep within those ancient glades. It is better to let them cling to their ignorance, to think that the madness of paranoia scratching at his spine is only too understandable by having to discover one's best friend at the scene of his death and the ensuring nightmares that would follow— not that he doesn't have nightmares, that is to say, only that the contents contain horrific figures very much among the living.

Either way, his family knows no better when they find him tangled within his bedsheets, trembling and choking on Silver's name.

No, Sebek is haunted by a presence far too real than the ghost of memory, and his unnerved fingers twitch in the curtains of his bedroom window as his sleep-deprived gaze blinks out to the forest's edge where he can see them.

Three figures where there had once been only two, weaving in and out of the tree line like fish in the stream beneath the call of the moonlight. If he squints, he can make out the lethal curl of dark ivory spouting from the top of one of the figures, and the way that the smaller of the trio does not touch the ground as it tugs their newest member along in a macabre vision of a dance that Sebek cannot pull his gaze away from no matter how hard he tries. There is no mistaking the gleam of familiar silver hair in the beguiling welcome of the night— and even from a mile away, Sebek can all too clearly hear the words that smiling, laughing mouth is speaking, as if Silver himself stood directly behind him in the stillness of his bedroom.

(He wonders if he turns to look, if the boy will surely be there as Sebek remembers him last; blood-stained and smiling so sweetly even in death as Sebek had found him, reaching in the dirt as if to take the hand of one who had led him to his doom.)

"Malleus begs of you to join us, he misses you terribly," Silver's voice all but sings against his strained thoughts, tremors anew bursting down his spine like shrapnel. "Please, Sebek— don't you remember the promises we made? Father came back for me, just as he said he would."

That thing is NOT your father, Sebek wishes to shout and scream in spite of how it would wake his entire family to the horrors lurking outside, the entities cursed to wander the woods and tempt those desperate enough to find solace in their gleaming smiles. But Silver is right, as he often is; Sebek does remember— he remembers a childhood of playing in the woods with Silver, an orphan his family had come to foster and adore. He remembers two imaginary friends who could breathe fire and fly, who could coax butterflies to dance along the breeze and flowers to bloom into the prettiest of crowns. He remembers how much Silver would cling to the affections of a figure with burning crimson eyes, and how much he would the same for a being that smiled down at him with crinkled emeralds older than time itself.

As he had grown older, such strange fantasies had become just that: the result of lonely and imaginative children left to their own devices, spinning stories in the fertile soil of an enchanting landscape. Sebek did not question the time Silver continued to spend within the shadowed trees, for the other boy always did have a unique aptitude for the local wildlife, nor did he find himself with time to spare to wonder about the dreamy smile Silver would often return with, or the odd snatches of unfamiliar songs he'd hear the boy humming tunelessly to himself.

In hindsight, he'd have grabbed a torch and burnt the whole fucking forest down.

Sebek's fingers force themselves to move with a herculean effort that he did not know himself to possess, yanking the curtains shut and blocking out the terrifying sight as Silver's voice rises and fades like radio static, a nauseating sickness pitching forward in his stomach.

"We're supposed to be a family now, Sebek, aren't you listening? Can you not hear them call for you too? I won't let them leave here without you, I promise we'll stay and wait—"

They'd already waited forty-five days. Sebek rocks forward on his heels, squeezing his eyes shut and swallows a hoarse, empty sob.

How many more remained until he found himself walking out to join them?

[4kingz]

Holy shit! Do yandere Ben x water fairy reader x yandere Bill! I need to see my two favorite characters! They are both manipulative and sadistic as fuck. I weirdly find that attractive Lmao!

The reader would be like this https://www.pinterest.com/pin/sugar-apple-fairytale--122160208636441325/

i got u, may ur fantasies become reality! *wand effects*

you shimmer like dew in moonlight—soft, glowing, almost too lovely for something so breakable. and they hate that.

it’s not that you’re fragile—no, it’s that you’re elusive. slippery as water, like they can’t quite hold you in their hands, no matter how tightly they try to grasp. and it drives them wild. because someone like you, someone who glows like the moon and dances with magic, was never meant to be near someone like them.

but that only makes them want you more.

you lie beneath the stars, skin glistening in the moonlight, hair spilling like liquid pearls down your back. there's a quiet kind of beauty to you, a radiance that draws their eyes even when they don’t want to look. and that’s when they know: mine.

ben’s eyes catch the moment he sees you—watching, lurking in the shadows, pretending like he isn’t already marking you as his. because in his sick mind, seeing you first means he owns you. and he's content with that, for now.

but ben's not the only one with thoughts of ownership.

bill sees you the very next day. he finds you lounging on a rock, your skin basking in sunlight, glowing almost as if you were a part of nature itself. he watches you from a distance, eyes narrowing as ben sits close to you—just close enough to keep an eye on you, just close enough to stake his claim.

but bill? bill doesn’t do distance.

he strides in, his presence dark and looming. ben glances over at him, irritated, but the tension is thick, like an electric current charging the air. bill’s grin is all teeth, sharp and hungry, and he speaks without hesitation.

"thought i’d join the party," bill hums, his voice slick and dripping with malice.

you sit up, your brow furrowing as you look between them. it’s a game to them, a twisted dance of manipulation, each of them trying to outdo the other. you’re caught in the middle, not sure whether you should run, scream, or submit.

the way ben watches you, possessive and patient, and the way bill circles, mocking, toying—it makes you feel small. like a thing to be fought over. and they both know it.

there’s no space between them anymore. they share everything. even you.

ben, for all his control, has never been good at sharing, and yet here you are, the object of their sick affections, drawn into their chaos. his gaze is cold, calculating, as he watches you look back and forth between them, trying to figure out who’s the bigger threat. bill leans in just a little closer, his lips curling into a smile, eyes glowing with delight as he watches you squirm.

“don’t bother trying to choose,” he says, voice a low, teasing purr. “you won’t escape either of us. not now.”

ben doesn’t speak, but his eyes flash with warning. you can feel the anger bubbling beneath the surface, even if it’s barely a ripple right now. he doesn’t like bill’s proximity, the way the demon taunts you, but he won’t act on it. not yet.

they’re always like this—competing, testing boundaries, pushing each other’s patience. but you? you’re the prize. the one thing they both want to possess. and they’ll keep fighting over you, playing their little games, until you break. or maybe, just maybe, until you give in.

bill chuckles, leaning down closer to you, his eyes dark with intention. “i think we both know you don’t really want to choose.” his fingers graze your cheek, tracing the outline of your jaw with a touch that feels like fire. “after all, we both want you. and we’ll have you, one way or another.”

the words hang in the air between them, a thick, choking tension. ben’s gaze sharpens, his jaw clenched, but he doesn’t move. not yet. he knows bill’s game. but the longer this goes on, the more he wants to break you, wants to see you crumble beneath their touch.

"you’re a mess," ben murmurs, his voice low and almost tender in its cruelty. "you’ll come to me eventually, sweetheart. you’ll see who really owns you."

your breath hitches, and the flutter in your chest has nothing to do with fear. it’s the same pull you’ve felt before, the helpless tug of their desires and your own confusion. you can’t run. you can’t hide. and as much as you hate it, you feel yourself growing weaker by the second, trapped in the twisted, intoxicating dance they’ve pulled you into.

[calmcoldevening]

Dance

TW: no

Characters: Vincent Sinclair

Description: just a little comfort from this pretty boy.

English is not my native language, so sorry about misspells.

The night always seemed like something forgotten and beautiful. Magical. The sky binds its entire boundless being into the embrace of a light black mantle decorated with a scattering of shining stardust; the wind begins to play with a bit of inexplicable tenderness, winding calmness and inner satisfaction; gentle songs of chirping insects and night birds hover in the air. You can also see something mysterious in the silent, cold light of the moon: the thrill with which silver rays encircle the roofs of houses and streets, wrapping the gloomy shadows of familiar things in beautiful unobtrusive images. There is something unearthly and painfully delightful about it. And to all the oddities that may seem to our wandering mind at this mystical time of day, we will certainly give one name, 'sleep'.

You were sitting in the kitchen, with your head propped up on your hand, with your other palm wrapped around a striped mug. The clink of a metal spoon occasionally hitting the ceramics cut the crystal silence. The tea has been cold for a long time, but you didn't pay attention to it, continuing to periodically sip the sweet liquid. The moonlight from the window gently outlined the features of your face when you once again looked at the wall clock; it's 00:30 a.m. You were sitting in the kitchen for a long time, continuing to burn through the impenetrable darkness on the other side of the window. Bo and Lester had been sleeping with full bellies and happy smiles for a long time, satisfied with tonight's dinner. In principle, they liked that there was a person in this house who could take care of them, as my mother once did.

The only thing that worried you and prevented you from falling asleep in every possible way was Vincent lingering in the workshop. At this time, and usually even earlier, a few hours after dinner, he was already in your room and listened to your measured reading of some book that you particularly liked. The man did not delve into the text, he was only interested in your pleasant, caressing voice, echoing in his head.

But for some reason, today he decided to break this peculiar tradition, and you were worried about it. Having gathered all your thoughts in a heap, you decided to visit the culprit of your inner anxiety. After all, if he's avoiding you on purpose, you should talk about it, shouldn't you?

Putting the mug in the sink, you look at the clock again and go towards the stairs. Climbing to the second floor, you tiptoe to your bedroom with Vincent, trying once again not to step on particularly creaky floorboards. You've been in this house for a long time, so you knew some of its features: for example, that the third step of the stairs is quite flimsy and makes a nasty creak to the point of trembling, as if you were forcefully rubbing a dry rag against a mirror polished to a shine; or that the farthest light bulb in the corridor has been blinking unpleasantly for a week, but no one dares replace it.

Closing the door tightly, you walk past the double bed and stop over the hatch. It was nice that a kind of doctor's or scientist's office was converted into a bedroom for the two of you; you are sure that the initiator was Lester, who immediately saw in you a really nice girl who would certainly take care of his older brother.

As soon as you opened the hatch cover, an unpleasant piercing creak of unoiled parts rang through the room. A pleasant enveloping warmth flows up from the basement, as well as from Vincent himself when he leaves the workshop: his body was so saturated with the smell of old wood, moisture and something else that distinguished this man from millions of others, what you really liked about him.

Going down the stairs, you wiped your sweaty palms on your t-shirt. Taking clothes from Vincent's closet turned out to be a good idea, at least you weren't so hot in it. When you got to the door, you covered the wet wood with your palm. The warmth touched your cold fingers, pleasantly calming and giving quite tangible confidence. The door, surprisingly, opened easily under your slight pressure, without making a sound.

It was even hotter in the workshop. How could Vincent work here in a sweater and a tight jumpsuit? It seems that the boiler was recently stopped: threads of steam were still streaming over the vat of hot wax. The room was spacious enough to accommodate all the equipment a man needed. Now the couch, habitually located in the middle of the makeshift office, was pushed to the wall, freeing up most of the room. An old radio was playing somewhere, giving out classic songs.

At the very end of the workshop, Vincent was hunched over a table. Now he was without his usual overalls, but in simple trousers and a long-sleeved jacket. No new 'guests' have come to Ambrose for a long time.

You quietly approached the man from behind, towering over his tense body. His entire desk was littered with a variety of sketches, ranging from projects of future figures to simple sketches of everything that caught Sinclair's eye. But most of all there were drawings with you. These were all kinds of portraits, both in full growth and in various poses.

"Vinnie."

You whisper, and the body under you shudders, straightening up to its full height. You step back.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," the man hurriedly puts the sketches in one pile, "Hey, don't. They are very beautiful."

You grab one of the most eye-catching drawings and see yourself sitting on the windowsill in your bedroom. The image was fuzzy, rather more like an unfinished work, just a sketch, but it already looked impressive. Pictures immediately appeared in my head, hanging on the first floor of the museum. You chuckled briefly. The next sketch that came into your hands was your portrait in profile. You were struck by the accuracy with which Vincent depicted all the outstanding features of your face: the shape of your nose and lips, the softness of your gaze and the moles on your skin. The last drawing you managed to get out of Sinclair's possessive grip was a sketch where you and a man were spinning in some kind of dance. You were dressed in a light light dress, playfully developing at your feet, he was wearing a classic suit and leather gloves, which he gently wrapped around your smaller fragile body. He must have fantasized when the right music was playing.

"It's beautiful, my love."

You hear a quiet, lingering whine under the mask because of a pet name. Cutie. You'd like to tease him a little longer.

"It's true."

You smile at him affirmatively. Vincent's eyes are barely visible under the mask. You look at the drawing again. Did he want to dance? You pay attention to the music playing for a moment. Something like a waltz should have come up. At least you're familiar with this dance because of a few years in music school, so it shouldn't be a problem.

You put the drawings on the table and cover Vincent's massive hand with your palm. He looks at you questioningly.

"Would you like to dance?"

You give a man a gentle smile, holding out your hand to him. He looks back uncertainly. You wait patiently, rolling from heels to toes in longing. Finally Vincent makes up his mind and puts his hand in your palm. He gets up from his chair and, putting his arm around your waist, leads you to the middle of the room. The man squeezes your hand, interlacing his fingers, puts his free palm on your side. You touch his broad shoulder with your fingers.

Only now do you see this difference in height, which is why you have to lift your head to see his eye through the mask. You hear this wonderful music, and the beating of your heart echoes the pleasant notes. Your breathing quickens, and you look at Sinclair with eyes shining with anticipation.

A particularly strong note sounds, and Vincent begins to lead you. The man gently squeezes your supple flesh, you modestly look away, trying to focus on the music. Vincent grins at your sudden shyness. Your feet move quickly and skillfully on the hard floor; the sole of your favorite sneakers rubs against the stone slabs with force; you hear the light click of Sinclair's heels when he once again, holding your palm with his, spins you around. You can't see his face, but you can feel his gaze watching the movement of your body with fascination. A man strokes the delicate skin of your palm, and you feel goosebumps running down your back. His every touch or glimpse makes your heart flutter wildly in your chest, and long-lost butterflies come to life in your stomach. It is at such moments that your inner rhythm gets lost and your feet begin to slide incoherently on the floor, causing Sinclair to chuckle. You try to regain your inner composure when his big hand presses you especially hard against his body behind the small of his back.

Finally, the waltz ends and is replaced by some light melody. Probably just a few minutes, but it felt like hours to you. Vincent wraps his arms around your back, hugging you to him, and you wrap your arms around his neck. You put your head on his chest and press your ear to his fast-beating heart. Now you can clearly smell his body. The gray turtleneck is soaked with a light aroma of smoke and oil candles that you gave Vincent for Christmas, his sweat-soaked skin smells of citrus soap, and his tousled hair has the smell of your shampoo. You close your eyes, enjoying the moment while a man rocks your couple in an impromptu dance.

He gently runs his palm along your spine, and you shudder, a satisfied laugh comes from under the mask. Small electrical impulses seem to run through the body, they burn, but they do not carry pain, but rather a strange warm feeling accumulating in your stomach and chest. His fingers, rough from constant work, touch your hot skin and gently massage, from which you relax in his arms. Sleep begins to exert its direct influence.

"Shall we go to the bedroom?"

You ask, and Vincent nods, touching the mask of your forehead with his lips in a simulated kiss. You giggle, and he picks you up in his arms, heading for the stairs.

[vintagelacerosette]

💖Tag o’clock🩷

I was tagged by the most precious bunch of starlights

Ice @spookygingerr Jade @jademickian Georgia @iansw0rld

Sarah @sleepyheadgallavich Willow @ian-galagher Evie @energievie

Face @burninface Nosho @creepkinginc Becki @francesrose3

Thanksss 😘💕

I was a lil late bc I was making my first gif!!

Favourite nickname someone gave you:

One by @svltburn I've never been someone's beloved before, but it's our petnames.

I legit felt heart in my eyes & danced around when I was first called that by him. 🩷

And then my dad giving me the nickname Ani-myn bc my name is pronounced as Main even tho spelt as Myn. So that nickname makes it sounds like anime haha

Favourite thing in your room/house: I've put up a small whiteboard on the back of my door which is use for gratitude/manifesting wishes. There's pics of family/friends & I've made something I'm manifesting for this year hehe✨️

Pretty proud of these edits hahaha

Your favourite thing about a friend/partner/family member: My best friend is bold & adventurous & she brings it out of me too! We just egg each other on & I never feel any shame will her I can be my truest self & I love heeer ����

What is something you’re grateful for today?: Amazing workmates we spent the last 15 min just goofing off then my other coworker dropped me off the the train station & I was able to catch an earlier bus home 🥰

What’s your favourite thing about this fandom?: How friendly, creative & encouraging everyone is!!! Y'all are my first fandom & my first online family I have felt like

if one song could describe your day today, what would it be?:

Felt like a contemplative kind of day

finally let’s spread some love: pick one of your pocket pals and tell them something you admire about them:

Sorry couldn't pick one I love y'all <3

@lingy910y my sweet friend who is incredibly talented in both art & writing! I was extremely touched that you reached out to me to collab on gallacrafts & I love how our art came together. Definitely one of my fave ppl to collab creativity will & I am excited to see more art that you'll share!!

@look-i-love-u Vey you absolutely gem of a friend I adore our DM sharing literally warms my heart 🥰 You an amazing writer & how wonderful you are at being one of the mods of galladrabbles 👏

@deathclassic Molllyyy you are such a sensational artist & writer. You're an absolute badass & I admire you so much ✨️

@jademickian an fantastic poet & a delight to see on my notifications. You make me smile 🥰

@darthvaders-wife Such a lovely person & a talented artist that inspires me all the time 💖 I love commissioning you!! You bring my dream art alive & I high recommend if anyone wants beautiful art!!

@mikhailoisbaby my man Harveeeeyyy you sweetpea I love ya & seeing your art evolve has been an absolute pleasure 😍

I'll tag these dearhearts if the wanna play & anyone else is welcome to join!!

@lupeloto @look-i-love-u @mikhailoisbaby @7x10mickey @mmmichyyy @suzy-queued @callivich @howlinchickhowl @too-schoolforcool @blue-disco-lights @wehangout @darlingian @ms-moonlight-inn @andthatisnotfake @mickittotheman @depressedstressedlemonzest @heymrspatel @gallawitchxx @heymacy @michellemisfit @deedala @whatwouldmickeydo @sam-loves-seb @mickeym4ndy @notherenewjersey @crossmydna

[m-jelly]

hey jelly! this is only my second time requesting so sorry if i made any mistakes or if it’s not understandable you can ignore this!

it can be a long or short fic (whatever you prefer) but can we get a knight! levi with princess! reader who is always teasing him, calling him a ‘good boy’ and etc, which gets levi always flustered/irritated, but they end up falling in love, trope she fell first and he fell harder with levi eventually becoming king and him and the queen live happily ever after?

you can totally ignore this if you don’t like the idea!

@ladycheesington <3

Dear, sweet knight

Levi x fem!reader

Royal au, flustered Levi, knight Levi, princess reader, fluff, romance, teasing, playful, flirting.

You fell for Levi when you first met him a few months ago. You wanted him to love you with just as much passion. While you tease Levi and try to get his attention, he falls very hard for you and decides to act on his love for you.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird

Levi's cheeks burned pink as the other knights chuckled at your flirting and teasing. He stormed over to you as you smirked at him. "Listen here, you brat."

You leaned your cheek on your hand and tilted your head. "Your Highness."

He growled a little and spat the words out. "Your Highness."

You giggled. "Yes?"

"If you don't stop with this teasing I will tie you up and gag you."

You gasped in delight. "That a promise?"

Levi went bright red as he thought about you tied up. "You..."

You shifted in your seat and reached out to Levi. You played with the hilt of his sword. "Such a big thick sword you have." You looked up at him. "You're incredible at using it."

Levi gripped the back of your chair and your chin. He leaned closer to your face. The smell of leather and lavender filled your senses. "I have a talent for it. I'm happy to show you first hand."

You squeaked a bit as rude images filled your mind. It was a shock to hear Levi speak this way, you loved it. You tried to turn your head away, but he had a firm grip. So, you lowered your gaze. "Levi."

Seeing you all shy and submissive was fun to Levi. He smirked. "This is a good look on you, being all shy and flustered."

You pouted a moment. "It looks better on you."

He pulled back and hummed a laugh. "Still being able to bite back, huh?"

You looked up at him. "Yes."

He folded his arms. "Why do you tease me so much?"

You played with your dress. "Because I like you."

He felt his heart skip a beat. "Mm...I...you..."

You stood up and pulled a ribbon off your dress and tied it to Levi's sword. "Now, go fight the other knights like a good boy."

Levi blushed. "Good..." He groaned. "Every time you say that..."

You giggled before kissing his cheek. "Win for me."

"Yes, your Highness."

"Good boy."

You sat nicely for your maid as she combed your hair for you. It was late at night and she was getting you ready for bed. You turned your head when you heard Levi's deep voice. "Levi."

The maid pulled back and giggled. "Be careful on the balcony, your Highness."

You lifted up your long form-fitting night dress and ran onto your balcony. The night was slightly cold due to winter on its way. You leaned on the bannister and looked down at Levi talking to a knight in training. You removed your shawl and dropped it down.

The shawl slowly fluttered and danced in the wind. A smile spread on your lips when Levi raised his head at caught your shawl. Your heart fluttered in your chest when he brought it to his face and inhaled your scent.

He released a long sigh. "Continue patrols without me."

The knight in training bowed. "Yes, Captain."

Levi tied your shawl around his arm before turning to look up at you. "Are you demanding my attention again?"

You hummed a laugh. "Maybe."

He smiled as he took in your beauty in the moonlight. "Very well, your Highness. You have my attention." He walked towards the wall. "I will be with you soon."

You leaned your cheek on your hand and hummed a little song as Levi climbed up. "I'm impressed, Levi." You gasped as Levi's face appeared right in front of yours. Your heart fluttered. "Le-Levi."

He hummed. "I was right."

You pulled back a bit. "Right?"

He climbed over and stood in front of you. "Yes. You are enchanting and beautiful."

You turned and tried to get away. "I should rest."

Levi wrapped an arm around your waist. He spoke against your ear. "Where are you going? You wanted my attention."

You gripped his arm and hummed. "Levi."

"I have to ask. are your flirtatious ways with me..." He turned you in his arms. "Do you mean it, or am I just a fun toy?"

You gazed deep into his eyes to see he was pleading with you. There was a mixture of hope, pain and love. You gripped his armour. "Levi. I fell in love with you at first sight. All this teasing has been my terrible attempt to flirt. I am sorry if it made you uncomfortable. I will stop."

"I don't want you to stop." He crashed his lip against yours and kissed you with all the love in his heart. "Please continue. I adore you with everything in my heart. I've fallen so deeply in love with you. You are my life, my everything."

You gripped his armour and pulled him with you into your bedroom. "Stay with me."

He lifted you up. "I would love nothing more."

You smiled with pride as the last of the laws that you worked so hard on with Levi was passed. You bowed your head. "Thank you all. Meeting adjourned. I hope you enjoy our upcoming autumn festival." You slipped out of your chair and walked through the hall and outside. "Where's my husband?"

Your knight chuckled. "He is shopping for you. He said something about finding the right gift."

You released a long sigh. "Knowing him he'll get a carriage full of gifts." You giggled at the thought of Levi getting all excited about things for you. He was such a tough and hard man, but he was so soft when it came to you. "I want to see him..."

"I'll take you by carriage to him."

"Thank you." You took his hand and climbed inside. You gripped your dress as you travelled into the city. You longed for your husband. You smiled when you saw him in his royal clothes inside a jewellery shop. "Levi." You hurried out of the carriage and squealed in delight. "Leviiii!"

Levi turned in his royal robes and looked like the perfect King. He smiled brightly at seeing you. He called your name and hurried over to you. "My love!"

You jumped into his arms and held him tightly. "I missed you."

He showered your face in kisses. "I missed you too. I love you so much. I love you more than anything." He sighed. "You are so beautiful."

You giggled. "You've said that already today."

"I need to say it more." He covered your face in kisses. "How was the meeting?"

"Everything was passed, my wonderful and smart man. Thank you for helping me."

He squeezed you tightly. "It was all you. It's always a pleasure to work with you." He gasped and gripped your waist. "Does this mean you're done for the day? Are you all mine?"

You giggled. "Yes. I am all yours."

Levi lifted you up and ran with you to the carriage. "Yes!" He bundled you and himself into the carriage. He held you close and covered your face in kisses. "I love you."

You hummed a laugh. "I love you too."

[zealouswinds]

"Lady Hear me tonight 'Cause my feeling Is just so right As we dance By the moonlight Can't you see You're my delight Lady I just feel like I won't get you Out of my mind I feel love For the first time And I know that it's true I can tell by the look in your eyes..."

[oflostinfound]

Which God Chooses You?

Ater, the God of Void Between Stars

As you stand in the final chamber, awaiting your judgement, you are aware of the light dimming around you. The few candles that stand about sparkle in the gloom, flickering this way and that, their light bleaching to white. But you are in the centre, in the gloom, in the silent dark. That is when you are aware of her. A presence, all around you. Lurking in the places where the light does not touch. She says nothing - can she speak? - but you feel her icy fingers on the back of your neck, tracing the sign of a question mark. You feel your skin grow colder, tiny crystals of black ice forming across your body, freezing down to your torso and up to your head. And as frost forms over your eyes, they snap wide open. You know. You understand. The depths of space hold room for all the secrets of the universe. And now they ricochet through your head, a babbling chaos of mysteries and answers. Her finger brushes against your lips, teasing. You feel her cold hand slip into yours, an outline of pure darkness against your flesh. Smiling, you let her lead you between the stars' light, to lose yourself in the never-ending secrets.

Glass, the God of Mirrors

Everything stays dark around you as a silent shadow slips into the chamber. It stands before you, mimicking your pose - arms straight, knees slightly bent, head cocked to one side - then falls still. Even in the gloom you can see the glimmer from its skin. It is silver, shining in your shape, your own face staring back at you from its mirror-glass form. You take a tentative step back, and it does the same. You tilt your head the other way, and it copies your motion. You raise one hand, and it lifts its own in perfect unison. Slowly, you find yourself moving your hand forward, until it touches the mirror-shape's palm. Its translucent skin is strangely warm, and you can feel a pulse beat gently underneath. As you watch, its fingers clasp with your own, and a silver shine spreads from your palm down your arm. You both turn your heads to watch the moonlight shimmer creep to your elbow, to your shoulder, and down your body. Staring into the god's face, you see your own blank features reflected; and in your face, its own shines, mirroring each other into infinity. Staring into it, you understand. How you came to be here. Every choice you made, and why. Though you no longer have lips, you find that you are smiling.

Melani, the God of Flowing Ink

The chamber fills with light. You cover your face, shielding it from the glare - and there, floating before you, is a being made from coloured ink. She holds no form, flowing this way and that, her iridescent colours shifting from one thing to another, shades you have never seen before in your mortal life. When her voice sounds in your ears it is light, melodious. "A new canvas!" Delight shines from every syllable. "A new brush! My dear, I am delighted to meet you!" One glowing orb of cerulean ink floats closer to you, alighting on your chest - it sinks deep into your skin, and from it springs a curling tattoo, snaking vinelike over your body. You watch in wonder as it traverses your arms; you can feel it, like a soft touch, tracing over your face and legs. "What we shall build! What we shall create!" her voice crows. Ink and paint seeps from your fingertips into the air, bubbling and dancing before you. It flows out of your veins, an endless supply of colour. A grin spreads across your face. You stretch out both hands and see them flush with rainbow hues, vivid pigment pouring from your body. "Time to work!" The god's voice is jubilant in your ear. "What beauty we will create!"