#a concept that has enchanted me

[commsroom]

it's the right of every socially isolated weirdgirl to find at least one mythical creature to make a part of her personality and i think hera's would be selkies. but she could also be a mermaid girl.

[forcebookish]

it turns out my cousin is obsessed with asian (mostly korean) dramas so i rec'd her a boss and a babe because she enjoys corny comedies and if she doesn't like it i may never talk to her again

[leclerc-hs]

don't wake the kids - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x nanny!reader (fem) summary: in which you got his daughter to finally fall asleep but risk waking her up not too long later warnings: 18+, slight smut, oral (f-receiving), bad french (please correct me i was tired while writing this lmao), not proofread!!!! word count: 1608 author’s note: i think i’ll write more for them bc i like the idea of single dad charles LMAO. this was fun xoxoxo

PART 2

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

THERE WAS SOMETHING about Mr. Leclerc that always made you stare at him in admiration. Maybe it was the fact that he always excelled at everything he did. For instance, raising a daughter on his own couldn’t have been easy. Hell, merely spending a single night watching over his kid has you feeling thoroughly drained. So, when Charles came home to you sprawled along his couch with the TV on a low volume, he wasn’t surprised. In fact, the sight brought a grin to his lips. You were the absolute cutest thing he had ever seen. Aside from his own daughter of course.

You weren’t even aware of the impact you left on him and his daughter. There wasn’t a day where you weren’t mentioned by his daughter. She adored you, and he did too.

“Comment était-elle?” How was she?  His voice was deep as he dropped his keys on the table of the entry way table. “Fatiguée?” Tired?

You barely moved as he approached the room, too comfortable to even sit all the way up for him. His hands rest in the pockets of his dress pants as he leaned up against the arch of the living room, suit jacket slung over his shoulder, eyes never straying from yours. 

You felt yourself swallowing harshly at the sight of him. He’s so fucking hot. “Elle était un ange!” She was an angel! There was a soft glow of moonlight that seeped through the curtains, casting a gentle radiance on the room as you whispered those words. You were whispering, careful to not wake her in the next room over. But also, in attempt to hide the desire in your voice. It would be a complete lie if you said you didn’t find him attractive. If you didn’t think about him that way.

With a subtle exhalation, Charles gracefully moved away from the archway, making his way towards the couch. He lowered himself onto the couch beside you, his head finding a comfortable perch on the back cushions, a gentle smile gracing his features. His legs extended languidly, and the contours of his thigh muscles subtly asserted themselves through the delicate fabric of his dress pants.

Turning his head to look at you, “Would you mind staying in the spare room tonight?” 

His eyes, an enchanting shade of green, held you captive in a mesmerizing trance. Lost in their depths, his question became a distant echo, momentarily forgotten in the captivating allure of those verdant depths.

It wasn’t an abnormal question. At least, not anymore it wasn’t. You’ve been watching his daughter for months now and have occasionally crashed at his when it was too late at night. When you didn’t answer right away, lost in thought, Charles felt the need to wearily add an “I’m too tired to take you home.”

It’s not that you didn’t have your license, but you didn’t have a car. And because it meant more money, you always said yes. At least you always told yourself it was for the money. But it really was for all the times you got to see a shirtless Charles in the morning. His hair all disheveled, eyes full of sleep. The rasp in his voice. And also, the breakfast.

His hand swiftly dropped to your exposed thigh, the tennis skirt adorning your body doing little to cover you. He patted the area right above your knee softly for your attention, “Je suppose que tu n’as pas de vêtements; je vais te trouver quelque chose.” I assume you don’t have clothes; I’ll grab you something. The touch was so miniscule, so quick, that you could barely grasp the concept that it happened before he was already standing.

Although staying over wasn’t new, borrowing his clothes was.

You found yourself unable to speak as he stood from the couch and made his way to his room. The air was charged with a delicate tension. You were convinced it was the suit that had you stumbling for words, or maybe the fact you haven’t had sex in months and Charles is just that fucking hot, and in front of you, looking at you, touching you.

“J’espère que cela est assez bon.” I hope these are good enough. Bathed in the gentle luminescence of the room, Charles gazes down at you with an intensity the captures the essence of the moment. In his hands, he holds a neatly folded pile of clothes, extending them toward you with a certain grace. A faint, sleepy smile graces your lips as you accept them. 

With a languid elegance, you begin to rise from the comfort of the couch, only to find Charles extending his hand toward you. His fingers confidently entwine with yours, pulling you up. Although, it seems Charles underestimated his strength because you are sent flying to your feet, awkwardly tripping in the process. But before you can make a total fool of yourself, Charles is slipping an arm around your waist, holding you to his chest.

You can feel your cheeks redden in embarrassment, “Je suis tellement désole.” I’m so sorry.

You feel Charles laugh reverberate in his chest, making you more alert of just how close you two were. “Ne sois pas désolée.” Don’t be sorry.

In that suspended moment, time seemed to stretch, creating a timeless place where you and Charles were encapsulated. Locked in a shared gaze, the world outside this intimate bubble ceased to exist. Uncertainty lingered in the air, an unspoken question hovering between you two. Charles’ firm hold persisted, grounding the moment in the tangible warmth of his touch. 

As the stillness enveloped you, his eyes were fixated on your flushed cheeks, a canvas painted in hues of warmth. The intensity of his gaze conveyed an admiration that transcended words. To Charles, the sight of your blushing complexion was nothing short of captivating – an endearing revelation of vulnerability that only heightened your allure.

“Tellement jolie,” So pretty. The words were so soft. Barely audible if it wasn’t for your proximity. It was as if he didn’t even know he said them out loud.

You felt frozen while trying to decide if this was a dream or not. But when the pads of Charles thumbs made way to your face, tracing your bottom lip slowly, you knew you were fucked.

“Est-ce que je peux?” Can I?

You wanted to scream. Yes! You felt your stomach churning with need. But externally, you were calm. You needed to be quiet.

You made the move to nod your head when his lips collided with yours. It was slow and tentative at first. Like he was trying to test the waters. He pulled away for a moment, eyes staring into yours once again, as if he needed to make sure you were okay with this.

But as soon as he saw your lips draw into a smile, he knew he was fucked.

The second time your lips met it was feverish and messy. All tongue and no air. The clothes that he handed you previously, now lay on the floor in a messy pile, your hands sliding around his neck. You both go tumbling down onto the couch.

He groaned quietly into your mouth – a sound as if the taste of you was something he craved his whole life. His hands dropped from your jaw, closing around your neck, as you felt him push your further into the couch cushion with the weight of his body.

“J’ai besoin de toi,” I need you.  You managed to slip the words out, your fingers trailing through his hair on the back of his head.

Before you had the chance to press your lips back together, he was pulling away, leaving you breathless and a little confused until his hands dropped to the waistband of your skirt. His fingers shoving their way in and pulling them down, your underwear being yanked off in the process. His gaze met yours once more, filled with anticipation and eagerness.

“Tu as l’air tellement putain de bien comme ça.” You look so fucking good like this.

Like this. Spread out and beneath him. Completely bare and whimpering for him. 

You could hear him curse to himself as he draped your leg over his shoulder, seeing how wet you already were. 

The first drag of his tongue on you was enough to make your back arch instantly. He groaned, his nose brushing against your clit as he dipped his tongue inside of you. Every dip of his tongue sent you bucking your hips harder against him. And he loved it. 

With every stoke of his tongue, your fingers fisted his hair tighter. You began to buck your hips, so close to reaching your orgasm, but he denied. His hands were quick to push your hips down onto the couch. He wanted to hear you beg. 

“Charles,” you sighed softly.

“Hm?” You didn’t even have to look at him to know he was smirking. His tongue was placing slow licks to your clit, light enough to keep you right on the edge.

“S’il te plaît.” Please.

Charles was back sucking on your clit in less than a second, his hands sliding up to your covered breasts, squeezing them. He moaned into your pussy, the sound enough to send you spiraling over the edge. You gripped onto anything that was near and placed it over your face, trying to cover the moans that were escaping your lips.

Your body shook as you pressed the pillow into your face. He licked you as you came down and didn’t stop until you were practically shoving him off.

His lips were glossy and puffy, coated with you. A smirk on his face as he stood up and looked down at you completely flushed on his couch, half bare. You looked at the bulge of his cock, pressing against the seams of his dress pants, and then back up at his eyes.

“Bedroom?”

[shatteredsnail]

why are all my favorite characters in the second arc i’m going to go insane

[maysileeewrites]

it looks better on you || Coriolanus Snow

18+ content; mdni!

summary: Coriolanus is obsessed with you wearing his clothes | based off of this concept post

my Coryo masterlist

Coriolanus Snow is positively obsessed with you wearing his clothes.

Whenever he sees you in one of his shirts or sweaters, it’s like he can’t think straight anymore, every single thought wiped from his head - except one: you’re absolutely mesmerizing, somehow even more beautiful and enchanting, wearing his clothes. 

You’re his - and you wearing his clothes is just one more way for him to mark you as his, to show everyone that you belong to him, and only him. 

No one else gets to touch you. No one else gets to fuck you. No one else gets to fall asleep next to you, wake up next to you. No one else gets to feel the immense, overwhelming satisfaction that always overcomes him when you’re wearing his clothes. 

No one else - just him. 

As it should be, Coriolanus thinks, smirking as he watches you poring over your University books at your desk from his position on your bed. Initially, he came over to your apartment so that you could study for your test next week together. Though he hasn’t really gotten a lot of actual studying done.

You’re just too damn distracting. 

You always are, but especially now - wearing his shirt and playing with the hem of it while you’re trying to memorize the text you’re currently reading, your other hand absentmindedly running through your hair, your lips silently moving - it’s like he can’t think straight. 

His eyes are fixed on you, following your every move. 

The way you screw your eyes shut as you sigh frustratedly - probably trying to remember a particularly difficult aspect of your textbook article. The way your fingers keep playing with the hem of his shirt. 

Really, he thinks, watching you sigh in frustration and slamming your textbook shot, throwing it a dirty look, his clothes look so good on you - almost better than they do on him. 

„Something wrong, love?“, he asks you, getting up from your bed and walking over to your desk, where you’re still sitting in your desk chair, head in your hands. 

You shake your head, sighing again. „No, it’s just this stupid biochemistry test … I just can’t get the hang of this stuff, which means that I’ll fail that test next week, which will bring my overall grade down and-“

„Hey“, Coriolanus interrupts your nervous ramblings, stepping closer to you and taking your hands in his, gently pulling them away from your face. He squeezes your hands, before bringing up one hand and gently brushing his knuckles over your cheek. 

You sigh, closing your eyes and leaning into his comforting touch. 

„I know that this is all a bit overwhelming right now, but you won’t fail that test, you hear me? You won’t - I’ll make sure of that. Even if it means that we have to spend every minute this weekend studying.“ 

„But, Coryo-“, you try to say, but he shakes his head, his eyes finding yours. 

„You won’t fail, trust me“, he says, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your hairline. „We’ll continue studying for this, I promise, but right now, you need a break.“ His gentle, yet firm voice tells you that he won’t take an objection for an answer. 

You sigh, even though you know your boyfriend only has your best interests at heart. He can be so stubborn sometimes …

„A distraction …“, he continues, something in his voice changing that causes you to shiver involuntarily as he leans down, stepping between your legs, looking at you with a teasing smirk on his face. 

„What do you-“ 

Your words are swallowed by his hungry, wild kiss. 

You make a surprised noise, wrapping your arms around Coriolanus’s neck out of pure instinct as his hands settle on your waist, drawing you closer to him as he keeps kissing you, his tongue coaxing your mouth open. You can’t help but moan as you feel his tongue moving against yours. 

Then, suddenly, he’s picking you up from your chair and you wrap your legs around his waist out of instinct as he carries you over to your bed, not once breaking the kiss. Your back hits your soft mattress and Coriolanus swallows the surprised noise you make with his hungry, desperate kisses. 

He breaks the kiss then, looking down at you with a teasing smirk on his lips, before lowering his head to the crook of your neck, sucking at the soft, sensitive skin. His lips curl into a possessive smirk when he hears the mewling, panting noises you make. 

He knows that he’ll leave bruises on your skin - pretty, purple marks that will mark you as his, showing everyone who you belong to. 

„Coryo!“, you gasp, trying to make sense of the world, tangling your hands in his blonde curls and trying to ground yourself, as he continues to relentlessly suck at your soft skin, all the while grinding his hips into yours, creating a delicious, nerve-wrecking tension. 

His lips leave a trail on your skin, from the soft, sensitive skin of your neck, to your collarbone and then lower and lower, until the hem of his shirt you’re wearing gets in the way. 

Breathlessly, your hands leave his hair and you reach down, trying to free yourself from the bothersome garment, but then suddenly, Coryo’s hands are there as well, stoping your motions. 

„No, keep it on“, Coriolanus says, reaching out with his hands to tug the dark grey shirt you’re currently wearing - one of his that you’ve ‚borrowed‘ - back down. His voice is low, his eyes are dark, the expression in them sinful and challenging - a promise. (A threat.) 

„It looks better on you anyways.“ 

You swallow upon hearing the arrogant possessiveness in his voice and clench your thighs together. 

When he notices, Coriolanus just smirks at you. 

You whine, reaching for his hands. „Please, Coryo“, you beg, your eyes finding his. You can’t have him teasing you - not right now, not when he’s already got you this worked up. 

„Please what?“, he asks, still smirking. 

„Please, just - touch me; just do something, Coryo, please.“ 

When he still doesn’t react to your pleas, just keeps smirking at you, you reach out with one of your hands, brushing over the bulge in his pants, before growing bolder and cupping his already hardened length through the material of his trousers. 

Coriolanus closes his eyes then, a low moan escaping his lips. 

„Fuck.“ 

His voice is something between a groan and a whimper as you keep stroking him through the fabric. 

For a split second you toy with the thought of doing the same thing to him he did to you - teasing him, edging him on, only to cruelly withdraw your touch at the last second. But he looks so good right now, his head thrown back, his eyes screwed shut, his lips slightly open, soft whimpers escaping him, you can’t bring yourself to do so. 

You don’t need to - because the next thing you know, Coriolanus is impatiently swatting your hand away, getting rid of his trousers and briefs in mere seconds, before placing his hands on your waist, shifting you, until you’re straddling his lap, your legs on either side of him, your core brushing against his erection. 

You can’t help the loud moan that escapes you then - the friction feels so good and you just want to feel him inside you already. 

„Coryo-“, you start to say, but his hand is already there at your core, roughly yanking at the thin material of your panties. You hear the material tear and you gasp loudly, when, without warning, he pushes two fingers inside you, curling them inside you, immediately finding your sweet spot. 

„Y-you really o-owe me a v-visit to the clothing store“, you pant, trying to form a cohesive sentence as Coriolanus continues to pump his fingers in and out of you at a merciless pace, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust of his fingers. 

Coriolanus just smirks, groaning when he feels your walls clenching around his fingers. „Fuck, not yet“, he pants, removing his hand and causing you to whimper at the sudden feeling of emptiness. „Need to feel you, need to be inside you.“ 

All you can manage is a nod, moaning when he positions you in his lap. You try once again to take of the shirt you’re still wearing, but Coriolanus swats your hands away once again. 

„Keep it on“, he says, his voice low and dangerous. 

All you can manage is a weak nod, because then his grip on your waist is tightening, shifting you forward even more until you’re sinking down on his hard length. 

„Fuck, Coryo.“ Your voice is nothing more than a breathless whimper as you continue to sink down on him, trying to adjust to the stretch. 

Coriolanus however, is too impatient to give you time to adjust, bucking up his hips to thrust up into you the moment you’re fully seated. 

You whimper, feeling his cock hit that spot inside you that has you seeing stars. 

Coriolanus groans, his grip on your waist tightening to guide your movements as he continues to thrust up into you. „Fuck, baby, you look so good riding my cock like that, wearing my shirt …“

You whimper, squeezing your walls around him. 

Coriolanus groans again, his expression clouded with pleasure. „Fuck, keep doing that and I’m not going to last long …“ 

You can’t help it - your walls squeeze around him again. 

A strangled moan escapes him then and you whimper when his thrusts get harder and faster and one of his hands finds its way to your core, brushing over the bundle of sensitive nerves. 

„Fuck- Coryo, please“, you whimper, as the pressure inside you keeps building and building and building. 

„Don’t worry, I’ve got you“, he says, as he continues to thrust into you at a relentless pace, his fingers teasing your clit. 

You do your best to meet his movements with your own, glad for his bruising grip on your hip, guiding your movements. 

„Just like that, you’re doing so good“, Coriolanus praises, sitting up to claim your lips in a hungry kiss. 

You whimper, overcome by all these different sensations - Coriolanus moving unrelentlessly inside you, his fingers on your clit, his lips on yours; turning you to mush in his arms. 

„Coryo!“, you breathlessly try to warn him when you feel your walls clenching around him again, you’re so close and you just want to feel your sweet release. 

„I’ve got you“, he repeats his earlier sentiment, his thrusts becoming even more erratic. „I’ve got you - fuck, you look so good, I could watch you riding me in my clothes forever, fuck-“

It’s his words that do you in, sending you over the edge. 

You come with a loud cry, his name on your lips, shaking in his grip, your walls squeezing him. 

„Fuck, fuck-“

It only takes two more thrusts and then Coriolanus is coming as well, spilling inside you. 

„Fuck, Coryo“, you whimper, still overly sensitive from your orgasm. 

„I’ve got you“, he repeats, pulling out of you, before closing his arms around you, shifting you around until your head lands on his chest and your back hits the soft mattress of the bed. 

You close your eyes as he settles a hand on your stomach, drawing you even closer for a moment. 

You stay like that for a long moment, both of you trying to catch your breath. 

Once you’ve calmed down enough, you notice how unbearably hot you feel - Coriolanus’s body heat is more than warm enough, but you’re still wearing his shirt that’s now drenched through with your sweat. 

You press a quick kiss to his cheek, ignoring the protesting noise Coriolanus makes as you move to sit up again. 

„My turn“, is all you say, as you finally take off his shirt and throw it to the floor, baring your chest to him. 

„What-“ Coriolanus’s remark is swallowed by the loud moan that escapes his lips when you settle back down in his lap, brushing against his erection. 

„My turn“, you repeat, grinning, „and I think it looks better on the floor.“ 

You swallow his reply with a hungry, desperate kiss. And judging by the way he’s squirming beneath you, trying to brush against your core, he probably doesn’t mind too much. 

someone please get me some holy water so I can cleanse my mind from these smutty thoughts

It’s finally here!! Sorry that it took me so long to get to it, but I’ve been in quite a writing slump these last few days.

Anyways, I’m wishing you all a Happy New Year <3 and thank you so much for all the love you’ve shown my writing lately! Here’s to more content in 2024!! :)

tagging:

@qoopeeya @honey-flustered @spectr3inl0ve @reader-bookling123 @itsnocturna @toogardenheart @theamuz @livius-codex @dominqueeekk @ebsmind @damagdcoda @snows-wife

[slytherinslut0]

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Twenty Five-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

Tags: 18+, Dirty Talk, Threats of Violence, Jealousy, Toxic Behaviours, Possessive Behaviours, Mentions of GunPoint (enchanted gun but still), Italian, Flirty!Theodore!Nott, Angst, Sexual Tension.

FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

"I don't know about this, Em..."

Giggles danced through the air, originating from your blonde companion, currently immersed in a thorough investigation of your shared closet. Her voice, laced with amusement, murmured something indecipherable, the words muffled by the solidity of the wooden door. A long sigh escaped your lips, a potent release of pure exasperation.

"This is crazy," you muttered to yourself. "Nott is going to need an entire bloody medical team when he catches sight of me..."

The enchanting red dress, a gem sourced from a privy boutique in Hogsmeade under Mattheo's explicit direction, molded itself to every contour as you confronted your reflection in the mirror. As your eyes traversed the fabric's journey, or rather, the lack thereof--there was no escaping the undeniable truth; the dress was exquisitely tight, sparing no nuance of your silhouette to the imagination.

"Doubt he'll even get the chance..." Emily replied, finally reemerging from the closet, "lover boy will likely claim his head the moment he fixes his gaze on you for too long."

Emily's cheeky response added a layer of playful anticipation to the charged atmosphere, earning an exaggerated eye roll from you in response as you fought hard to suppress your smirk.

When you'd embarked on the hunt for the ideal dress, you had brought Emily along for her valuable opinion. As your gaze fell upon this specific piece, uncertainty gripped you, convinced it might be a touch excessive. Yet, Emily staunchly opposed that notion. Her unwavering belief in its perfection became a contagion, subjecting you to prolonged minutes of relentless persuasion. Gradually, her infectious enthusiasm chipped away at your resistance until, inevitably, you succumbed--reluctantly handing over Mattheo's gifted galleons.

"And do I truly wish to burden my conscience with the death of the schools most popular Italian playboy? And not to mention Riddle's certain Azkaban sentence...all but a couple months from graduation?" you deadpanned, fingers instinctively rising to massage your temples in an attempt to alleviate the burgeoning headache. "Maybe I should just borrow something from your-"

"Absolutely not," Emily interjected, her voice cutting through your proposal with firm decisiveness. She approached you, a sparkle in her eyes, and added, "you look perfect. Trust me on this."

Meeting your eyes in the mirror, Emily's irises shimmered with a warm reassurance. She adjusted her flowy emerald green dress, a garment she had acquired at Tom's request--they were going to the masquerade together, though the status of their relationship still remained uncertain.

Emily, ever the advocate of going with the flow, a concept apparently foreign to Tom, said she wasn't in any rush to make things official, understanding that perhaps it would look a tad bit odd for him to start dating her after he'd just paraded you around to all of his friends, merely less than a few weeks go.

And as a result of this, you and Emily had a long, in depth heart-to-heart conversation where you made sure to unravel any lingering issues--the liberating honesty and the comfort of having someone in your corner again felt tangible. Although initially perturbed by the extended secrecy, Emily eventually grasped the rationale behind your discretion, acknowledging the protective measures taken for yourself and your desired career.

The depth of your longstanding friendship played a pivotal role in fostering this understanding, and you'd never been more thankful to have such a wonderful, supportive friend in your life.

"What do you think Michael will do when he spots you wearing traitor colours?" you teased, an impish grin playing on your lips as you watched Emily fix her long blonde hair, adjusting herself in the reflection.

"I reckon he'll be rather unamused," she snorted, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "But he'll be in for a real surprise when he sees you cozying up with Theodore Nott, the traitor extraordinaire."

"Cozying up with Theodore?" you retorted with a smirk, feigning innocence. "Absolutely not, I just recently cleared my conscience, I intend on keeping it that way."

"I wouldn't underestimate the Italian playboy; word on the street is he can be quite insistent..." Emily spun back around to face you, a cheeky smile playing on her lips. "My suggestion is that you tell him about Mattheo before he unwittingly finds himself sharing a bed with Berkshire."

Your expression sank, and a twist formed in your stomach. "Oh, gods, Emily, I need to change," you exclaimed, spinning around and making a beeline for the closet. "Surely there's a garbage bag or your grandmas old moo-moo hidden in here that I could wear instead, right?"

Emily's sudden snort echoed through the room, reverberating far louder than you'd expected. With swift precision, she wielded her wand, slamming the closet door shut before you could reach it.

"Come on, it's going to be fun," she teased, a mischievous sparkle in her eyes. "Give those cocky Slytherin boys an experience they've never had before. Making them squirm is a rare opportunity--after all, they're not used to being denied anything."

You hesitated, a reluctant smile crawling across your face at her words as you silently considered the prospect. Mattheo had always made it abundantly clear that girls were typically within arm's reach for him, and he could have anyone he desired. The idea of driving him to the brink tonight, knowing he couldn't do a thing about it after explicitly instructing Theodore to ask you, ignited a rebellious spark within you.

"Alright, but this better not turn into a disaster," you responded, your internal thoughts dancing between uncertainty and a subtle thrill. "If the mafia comes after me because I smacked their most prized possession, I'm blaming you."

"You look fucking hot. Own it," she encouraged, a playful smile dancing on her lips. Turning her attention to the door, a sudden realization struck her. "I've got to run. Promised Michael I'd help him with his bloody tie--but don't forget to check the mail. Something arrived for you earlier."

With a swift goodbye, she whisked away, grabbing her matching emerald green eye mask, leaving you to contemplate the mysterious package. Not one to dawdle, you approached the table by the door, spotting a small brown box with your name inscribed on it.

With eager anticipation, you unwrapped the package, unveiling a stunningly bejeweled red mask. A note accompanied the alluring accessory, bearing the cryptic message:

"Something about me, I fucking hate the colour yellow."

A smirk played on your lips as you extracted the exquisite gift from its velvet cradle. The crimson mask lay in your hands, a stunning creation adorned with gemstones that caught and reflected the light with each subtle movement. Blush flooded your cheeks as you approached the mirror, slipping the mask on. Turning your head in every direction, you marveled at the way it enhanced your features, making you feel like a mysterious enchantress.

The beauty of the mask was beyond words, and even though the logical part of you knew it had to be from Mattheo, the sheer magnificence of the gift made it feel almost surreal.

After what felt like an eternity lost in the mirror, admiring the stunning mask, the realization hit that you needed to meet Theodore. He'd mentioned waiting for you at the entrance to your common room, so as swiftly as possible, you adjusted your dress, attempting to cover up your chest, and gracefully slipped out of your room, navigating the familiar halls with a sense of purpose.

The chilled corridor welcomed you as you emerged, and after a brief moment of searching, there, like an awakening spell, you spotted Theo--and your stomach nearly leapt into your chest at the sight of him.

"Holy shit, Nott...are you...are you actually wearing enemy colors?" Your jaw dropped as you beheld Theodore in a Ravenclaw blue suit, a sight you'd never expected in a million years. "Hold still, I need to take a bloody picture of this."

Theo's arrogant response came with a sly smirk, his dark eyes tracing hungrily over your figure. He stood before you in a pristine suit, accompanied by matching vest, and a crisp white dress shirt underneath. The ensemble was adorned with exquisite gold links and buttons, showcasing his impeccable taste. His confident demeanour suggested that he indeed cleaned up more than nicely, and this was only a slight indication of his professionalism.

"Sure, have your laughs," he quipped, an arrogant smirk playing on his lips. His eyes moved deliberately, scanning the curves of your figure. "Enjoy the view while it lasts, little bird. This suit's debut is a one-time thing—I might just set it ablaze once the night is over."

"Well you certainly know how to make a girl feel special, don't you?..." you teased, grin stretching past your ears as you took another step closer. "How honoured I am to accompany you in this suits first and only outing."

"Your wit is far too sharp for a Ravenclaw," Theo huffed in amusement, his stormy eyes glistening behind his dark blue mask. "You look properly fucking flaming by the way...do pardon my French."

You snorted, gracefully taking his arm as he offered it, intertwining yours around his. "French? I was under the impression you were Italian, Signor Nott."

"You speak it?" Theo raised an intrigued eyebrow, briefly glancing down at you as the two of you strolled towards the ballroom.

"Partially," you replied, a playful glint in your eye, your attention split between the conversation and the challenge of navigating gracefully in your black heels. Each step resonated with a confident clack on the school floors. "I dabble in a multitude of tongues...a side effect of an inquisitive mind."

"Is that so?" he said, pure intrigue in his tone. "Talk to me in Italian then,"

"Are you serious?" You snorted, far louder than you'd intended, waiting for him to say he was joking. He simply looked down at you, eyes locked on yours behind the mysterious mask.

"Absolutely serious," Theo chuckled, the breathy tones dancing in the air, a subtle spark of challenge in his eyes. "A little ball of knowledge, huh? Prove it."

A warm flush crept up your cheeks as you stifled your laughter. Theo had a charm of his own, a natural way of drawing people in much like Mattheo, although the troublemaking wizard had a slightly more breathtaking allure with those dark, intoxicating eyes and that unruly mop of chocolate curls. It wasn't a shortcoming on Theo's part--it was simply the irreplaceable magnetism that Mattheo possessed, but you couldn't deny the way Nott was making you feel.

"Alright, you want me to put my money where my mouth is, I respect that." You teased, clearing your throat as you pondered an Italian phrase that might leave an impression. After a brief moment of contemplation, it dawned on you. "Non c'è rosa senza spine."

(There is no rose without thorns.)

"Buona scelta," he replied with a smirk, his tone holding an air of both appreciation and subtle challenge. "Sei più astuta di quanto pensassi."

(Good choice; you’re more clever than I thought.)

"You underestimate me, Nott," you chuckled, a surge of pride coursing through you. "Consider that your first mistake."

"You know, the more I get to know you, the larger my desire to figure you out becomes,” he said, dropping his tone into a husky whisper as the two of you turned a corner. "You are...intriguing."

It was at this moment, as the two of you entered into the bustling main hall, that you were extremely thankful this event was a masquerade. The mask provided a welcome veil of anonymity, shielding you from the prying gazes that threatened to make you uneasy. It seemed you were blending seamlessly into Theo's arm, a part of the enigmatic allure rather than a subject of scrutiny.

"You couldn't figure me out in a million years," you retorted, a sharp edge to your tone, the corners of your lips subtly playing with a hint of a smirk. "Better men have tried."

Theo, as expected, didn't like that response. "Don't tempt me, little bird...I will make it my life's mission."

You rolled your eyes, chewing on your cheek. "You're far too sure of yourself, Theodore."

"Look at that, Bella...you're already using my first name," he quipped, smirking. "I'm making progress without even trying."

You fought the urge to smack him, your eyes narrowing in a playful challenge. "To know me, Signor Nott, I'll put you through hell...just ask Riddle, he can certainly attest."

"Mm, thats precisely the thing, little bird..." he said, his smirk holding a touch of intrigue. "Riddle's a closed book when it comes to you. Doesn't spill a damn thing, makes me wonder what secrets the two of you are hiding.”

"Quite a conspiracy, I'd say," you chuckled, relishing the light banter between you two as the distant sounds of music and laughter from the ballroom grew louder. With a nod and a playful smile, you gestured toward the entrance. "Shall we?"

Theo nodded, a playful glint in his eyes, as he released your arm and extended a hand to the small of your back, ushering you forward. "After you, milady"

Upon crossing the threshold into the ballroom, a breathtaking scene unfolded before your eyes. The room was adorned with vibrant spring decorations, an enchanting celebration marking the approaching end of the term. The fragrance of fresh flowers wafted through the air, and the soft glow of enchanted lanterns bathed the room in a warm, golden radiance. Hogwarts students from all years, dressed in their finest attire, wore a dazzling array of masks, each one a unique work of art.

As your eyes darted around the room, the search for familiar faces led you to a moment of anticipation. The diversity of masks, ranging from intricate designs to whimsical shapes, made it challenging to discern familiar faces.

Finally, your gaze landed on the only man you'd ever go out of your way to search for, his distinctive chocolate curls drawing your attention like a magnet amidst the sea of masked enchantment. The mere fucking sight of him, cloaked in newfound sophistication, sent a thrilling pulse through your veins, awakening sensations in your body that you were unprepared to face.

He stood there, like a fucking silhouette of elegance, adorned entirely in black--black mask, black suit pants, a sleek black dress shirt, and a finely tailored black suit vest. The only splash of colour adorned him in the form of a satin red tie, perfectly mirroring the shade of your dress. The entirety of your being froze in place, your throat resembling a parched desert, the sole reminder to keep moving coming from the steady pressure of Theo's hand on your back, coaxing you forward through the enchanting crowd.

As the two of you veered closer to them, the tension in your body was almost painful. Truth be told, it wasn't the singular presence of Mattheo that set your heart racing like a high-performance sports car on race day--oh, no, the true accelerant was his fucking date. The very girl from the washroom, the one you had directed him to accompany, and the vibrant colour of her long, flowing dress:

Yellow.

"Riddle, Malfoy," Theo uttered, initiating a firm handshake with each of his Slytherin comrades as they exchanged greetings. "Parkinson, Lanalock."

"Nott," Parkinson remarked, a smile gracing her features. "Never expected to see you in blue. You could easily pass for a Ravenclaw, you know."

Theo's response carried a touch of cunning arrogance, sneaking you a glance. "A choice made with utmost consideration, you might say."

In the midst of the social dance, your gaze and Mattheo's remained locked, an unbroken connection that felt more like a silent conversation than a mere exchange of glances. The unspoken tension between you two hung thick, and in that charged moment, it was uncertain if either of you had even blinked. Your heart pounded not only in your throat but also seemingly echoed in another, more intimate part of you as well.

Mattheo had never looked more fucking captivating, and the longing for him intensified by the millions--that merciless irresistible force effortlessly working to pull you closer.

Just as the tension threatened to become all-encompassing, Professor Dumbledore's voice reverberated over the lively chatter, his warm tone weaving through the air.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the enchanting Spring Masquerade. I hope the magic of the night unfolds to your desires. Now, if you would kindly make your way to the dance floor, we are about to commence the first slow dance of the evening. So, let the celebration begin."

The resonance of Dumbledore's voice snapped you from Mattheo's visual captivity, prompting a few deliberate blinks and an expelled breath laden with tension. Theo, with a gentle glance, took your hand, guiding the group to choose spots on the dance floor directly adjacent to one another. It required every fiber of your being not to steal a glance at Mattheo, aware that the mere sight of him holding another girl would induce a wave of nausea within you.

Your attention became an exclusive affair with Theo. As he placed his hands on your hips, his grip was tender, a sensation entirely distinct from anything you'd experienced with Mattheo. A sharp intake of breath accompanied the elevation of your arms, led your palms to find a gentle perch on Theo's shoulders. In the depths of his stormy blue eyes, you unintentionally delved, oblivious to the intensity of the eye contact you established--you were so lost in your own thoughts that a bomb could go off in this very room, and you were certain you wouldn't even flinch.

Then, Theo's voice broke the silence. "Little bird, are you alright?"

"Oh, yes," you blinked, your voice escaping your throat in a cracked whisper, as though each word were a struggle for breath. "And you?"

"More than," he quipped, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

Your watchful eyes tracked the journey of his gaze, starting from your eyes, sliding leisurely to your lips, lingering provocatively before venturing lower, dipping over your chest with a seductive grace before sinuously slithering back up. The subtle intimacy of the visual exploration ignited a warmth within you, and you glimpsed his lips, recalling Emily's advice from your dorm. Make these men squirm.

"Glad to hear it," you mused, a playful edge to your tone, your fingers tightening their grip on his shoulders as he delicately drew you closer. "Wouldn't want the Italian playboy to be anything other than alright."

His grip tightened perceptibly, the sensation almost tangible as if his nails could breach the delicate fabric of your dress. The room plunged into a soft dimness, signaling the beginning of the slow dance. The shift in atmosphere was unexpected, enough to make you jump slightly. For a fleeting moment, you locked eyes with Mattheo, finding his gaze fixed on you, his hands scarcely making contact with his date.

Hastily looking away, Theo's voice reached your ear, dangerously close, "Italian playboy, hmm? Is that what they're calling me these days?"

"Don't act like you weren't already aware," you chuckled softly, the resonance carrying a hint of mischief. "Though, I must say, the rumors might be onto something."

Theo smirked, his voice a low murmur tinged with arrogance. "Well, uccellino, despite the rumors, I assure you I am a proper gentleman..."

A sharp intake of breath caught in your throat as his nails dug deeper into the fabric of your dress, compelling you closer as the two of you gracefully swayed to the music.

"How gentle you are, indeed," you mumbled, chewing your lip as you met his gaze, the two of you dangerously close together.

Theo's gaze deepened, his lean frame bending down as his lips brushed against your ear. "I may be a gentleman, Bella," he murmured, the words a seductive whisper. "...but if you keep looking at me like that--with those big eyes, biting on your goddamn lip...we might just be fucking on the nearest surface I find."

Oh, no. This was bad. Your response stammered out before you could even think to stop it, panic flickering in your eyes.

"I-I, excuse me," you stuttered, hastily breaking away from the dance just as the song was nearing its end. The abrupt departure carried a mix of flustered embarrassment and a desperate need to collect yourself.

Seeking refuge, you maneuvered toward the drink table nestled in the far corner of the room. The dim light and distant chatter provided a momentary escape as you began to slam back drinks, attempting to drown the intensity of the encounter with Theo.

As the remnants of a calm facade settled within, a subtle shift in the atmosphere stirred your senses. A tingling awareness compelled you to glance over your shoulder, only to find yourself ensnared in the dark, intoxicating depths of Mattheo's eyes. A strange yet undeniable wave of relief washed over you, despite the fact that he stood looming directly behind, adopting the guise of casualness while pretending to grab a drink.

"Mattheo," you breathed his name, the syllables escaping your lips like a breathless sin, a recognition of the forbidden allure that surrounded him. "What are you doing?"

Mattheo's breath, a tantalizing whisper, brushed against the nape of your neck, setting your nerves ablaze. "I can't stand the way he's touching you, Raven...I can't even stand the way he's fucking looking at you..."

Your lungs seemed to stall. "This was your idea, Matty..."

"I'm well aware," he hissed, the energy radiating from him palpable in the charged air. "Fuck, you look so fucking sexy...you are so goddamn beautiful, you know that?"

"I'm not sure I do..." your heart melted, a subtle heat pulsating through your thighs. "I think I need you to tell me again."

"You are so, so fucking beautiful..." he muttered, his voice a deep husk, strained with lust as it left his throat. "You are the most captivating girl in this entire fucking room...I can't stop staring at you...I can't stop needing you..." you gasped as his hand grazed over your ass, subtly, but a feeling you'd never miss. "What do you think you're fucking doing to me, hm?"

You nibbled on your bottom lip, the flush of blood coloring your face. "At this moment...nowhere bloody close to enough."

Mattheo's voice, saturated with desire, responded, "You're absolutely right, princess...and I can't wait to have you all to myself, as soon as this dumb fucking dance is over."

A soft hum escaped you as your lids fluttered, reveling in the warmth of Mattheo's body behind you. "Unless Nott gets to me first..."

As though a switch had been flipped, Mattheo's hand seized your wrist with a subtle yet undeniable warning, a silent caution against uttering anything remotely similar again.

"Don't even joke about that, Raven," he growled, the intensity in his voice cutting through the air. "I swear to Salazar himself, what I did to Berkshire will pale in comparison to what I'll do to Nott."

"So jealous, Matty..." you purred, smirking as he slowly released your wrist. You couldn't deny that his possessive tendencies did something to you, however fucking insane they were. "So angry..."

"You like that, don't you?...dirty little slut..." you could practically hear the smirk on his perfect fucking lips, your entire body vibrating with need. "Keep tempting me, princess...I'll bend you over this table, fuck you in front of the whole fucking school...I'll point my gun at Notts fucking head and make him watch, on his knees in front of you as I fuck you stupid...how does that sound for jealous, hm?"

Breath eluded you, the sheer intensity threatening your consciousness. "Godric, help you..."

"Sorry, Raven, but the only help from above that I believe in is a sniper on a rooftop..." Mattheo's voice, a deep, honeyed drawl, slipped from his lips. "And just so you're aware, I know eighty different ways to kill a man--and I can make an easy seventy nine of them look like a bloody accident...understand?"

"Fuck..." your mind struggled to form coherent thoughts. It had been days since his last touch, and the way he spoke now made you crave him more than the very air you breathed. "I don't think I do...I think I need you to tell me again..."

"I've never been a jealous man, Raven..." Mattheo's gaze swept the surroundings, ensuring no lingering gazes were watching. Satisfied, he shifted slightly, his lips now at your other ear. "I've never envied someone for what they have or who they're with, and yet, I'm damn jealous of every asshole you smile at, everyone you openly converse with...I've never fucking wanted something that I couldn't have, a girl I couldn't get...so this, all of this...is fucking maddening."

Your lungs seemed to stall, a momentary freeze as if he'd submerged you into the heart of a raging inferno. A surge of warmth flooded through every fiber of your being, an intoxicating heat.

"I need you," your voice murmured, the words dripping with a desperate longing. "I need you in every fucking way imaginable..."

"Mm," Mattheo hummed, the warmth of his touch tracing the curve of your hip. "Such a delightfully dirty mouth for a princess..."

Feigning innocence, you lifted your gaze to meet his, a coy smile gracing your lips. "Perhaps...but even princesses have their secret pleasures, don't they, Matty?"

For a moment--a fleeting, beautiful fucking moment--your eyes locked, and it was in that secret realm, where slight smirks played on each of your lips, and the tension was fucking so thick that you could hardly breathe--where you both knew you've found what the whole fucking world was still carelessly searching for.

And it was there, that you knew--no man, no job, no fucking career could ever make you feel as happy and needed and treasured as Mattheo Riddle did. In his own, crazy, fucked up way.

Mattheo blinked. "Meet me in the washroom in forty minutes.”

—————————

Chapter 26->

[cosmicdream222]

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・。.。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Affirmation & Subliminal Audio Download: Self-Concept & Void Concept

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・。.。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

I made an affirmation/subliminal tape for myself and felt like sharing in case it helped anyone else! This is meant to completely saturate your mind so you fully believe you are the creator of your reality and already have your perfect life.

If I were to summarize it with one affirmation, it would be “I easily entered the void, and now my life is perfect.”

The affirmations all center on the three overlapping themes of: My life is perfect, I’m a master manifestor, and I enter the void easily.

Kinda had too much fun making this and included 7 layers total. There are a LOT of affs in here but they are all are fairly non-specific, blanket/umbrella self-concept that can be used by anyone, and are completely unisex.

I created my own affs, some are from my Master Manifestor vaunt, and I modified some basic ones I found on Tumblr and Pinterest. They are all safe, no negative words, no religion, no witchcraft etc lol :)

The audible affs are layered with two layers of Kottie’s & Enchanted Workshop’s Wake up in the void subliminals courtesy of @gorgeouslypink

Since I believe in honesty and transparency, I’ve listed all the details below the cut. If you just want to download and get listening, here are the Drive links:

✩Folder with all 3 versions

✩Version 1: Affirmation tape & subliminal

✩Version 2: Same as above but with echo effect for more repetition

✩Version 3: For overnight use through phone speakers. Aff volume is lowered and rain sounds from the subs are louder.

Actual pic of audio file :)

Made with love! Let me know if this helps you! 💕

Version 1: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1fKLb-mLw4aXbYrO-uIEAzEkvANNkkMA4/view?usp=drive_link

Layer 1: Master manifestor, the void is easy, self-concept affs - entirely in the left ear

Layer 2: The same affs, in a different order - entirely in the right ear

Layer 3: “Perfect life” self-concept aff tape - includes both “you” and “I”, in both ears, at a lower volume

Layer 4: The affs from layers 1 & 2 but in a different order, in both ears, at a lower volume

Layer 5: Enchanted Workshop’s Wake up in the void subliminal

Layer 6: Kottie’s Wake up in the void subliminal

Layer 7: Self-concept affs and perfect life affs (from previous layers) at the lowest subliminal volume level

Version 2: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1lujZ7M1hQu09fbJnq4ks2bOA_ss9dfzq/view?usp=drive_link

Same as Version 1, but an echo effect is added to layers 1 & 2. This makes the affs repeat multiple times, and can give you more of a trance-like effect.

Version 3: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1oVuIgj96NLNfIY0u5yzi8vAh89qSiwD_/view?usp=drive_link

Version 1 modified for overnight use through your phone speaker. Layers 1 & 2 play in both sides at a lower volume, and the volume of layers 5 & 6 is increased so the rain sounds are louder and affs are quieter.

These can be downloaded to your phone or PC and looped:

iPhone: AudioRepeater and Audio Looper are both free apps that will loop imported audio files.

Android: Several free apps will let you loop, including playing two audios at the same time (if that’s your thing) try Loop Player.

PC: The default Windows media player has a loop function.

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥

[rose-tea-and-strawberries]

Three's A Crowd (a.k.a: when deuce is jealous of his tsum)

Deuce Spade x Reader

I write reader as female

Masterlist

“Who’s my adorable little Deucey? Yes, you are. Yes, you are. Aren’t you a good little boy,” you cooed, nuzzling your face closer to the little tsum tsum in your hands. Ever since the small plush version of your boyfriend descended from the sky and bounded into you, the two of you have been inseparable.

For the past hour, you’ve been cuddling and kissing the little critter like there was no tomorrow and the tsum was soaking up your unrelenting attention like a cheeky little sponge. The little rascal didn’t even want to stop at just receiving your love. Oh no, it seemed perfectly happy leaping up and planting its face on your cheeks, jumping for joy when you’d smile at it and say your thanks

Meanwhile Deuce was sulking beside you, his thoughts were at odds with each other. On the one hand, he gets to see your smile and hear your angelic laughter - a sight and sound that never makes his heart swell with devotion - but on the other, he has to witness you doling out your coveted affection to someone else. He was being third-wheeled on his own date - and by himself no less!

He knows he’s being silly - pouting like a child because you’re doting over a creature less than ten centimetres large. He already had to endure Ace’s smug grin and teasing laughter at his ‘whipped behaviour’ but he can’t help it. He’s been wrapped around your finger for so long that he’s already made a home there.

He knew that if his plush counterpart was anything like him, then there was never enough of you. That you were just so beautiful and loving and breathtaking, that forever with you just felt too short. Your gentle words and soft caresses, your warm kisses and loving embrace, the sweetness that just pours out of everything you do was so enchanting that he was helpless against the force of it all. The love he had back then was so consuming that he thought it couldn’t possibly grow, that it’s mass was simply insurmountable but he was so unbelievably wrong - that was a mere drop compared to the ocean of desire he’s perpetually drowning in, and every day he sinks deeper and deeper. He was a fool to think that once he was yours, that he could be at ease. He should’ve known that every kiss, every touch he shares with you makes him more and more addicted to them, catching him in this vicious cycle that neither of you are planning to stop. So he knows perfectly well firsthand that a few hours with you would not satisfy the navy haired tsum in your grasp.

After all, he knew what he was like back then, when his rightfully atrocious reputation and frightening expression drove people away, when the concept of having someone close like this was a concept as fanciful as his book of fairytales. And now that he had someone to love and cherish, to worship and protect, he swore that he would never be the reason you felt scared or upset or angry. So if he had to deal with his irrational jealousy, he would.

But it was just so hard. For some reason his already aggressive and quick-to-anger tsum was exceptionally rowdy if it was over a centimetre away from your person (and no, he was not going to unpack that and yes, he was ignoring all of the looks his fellow Heartslabyul students and first years were giving him whenever his smaller counterpart would throw a tantrum or be so openly affectionate) so the only way it would behave was if it sat on your shoulder. This meant that he had to deal with an entire academic day of his mini me being nearer to you than him - of it rubbing against your cheek or being carried in your hands or snuggling up against you, you even hand fed it during lunch (you’ve never done that with him and no he most certainly did not splinter the table from how hard he was gripping it) - and he’s pretty sure he’s at his limit.

“Who’s my darling sweetheart?” you continued to coo, petting the tsum on its plush head, “who’s my handsome boy?”

“I am,” Deuce whined, dropping his head onto your shoulder. 

You immediately stopped and turned to face him. He could feel his face burning from something other than the heated glare of the tiny thing in your hands but at this point, he was desperate.

“I am,” he repeated, lifting his face and looking up at you with wide, pleading eyes, “so, please. Can you pay attention to me?”

You smiled at him, so lovely and warm, and was about to open your mouth before, to both of your shock, the tsum tsum leaped up and planted a kiss right on your lips before landing back down looking immensely pleased with itself.

You blinked in surprise as Deuce looked ticked, glowering at his tiny counterpart, who just looked smugly back at him.

“You little,” was all you could hear before you felt a gloved hand grip your forearm and draw you forwards and another pushing against the back of your head, and his lips were on you, pressing hard against yours. It took a split second for you to get over your stupefaction and you kissed him back, just as hard, moving your mouth to the rhythm the both of you set. You felt the familiar haze of ecstasy clouding your senses before it was over, much too quick for the both of you. 

He smiled at you, and you gave him a red-faced smile back, letting the oxygen once again fill your lungs and your rapid heart rate peter down to normal. 

“I’m your boyfriend,” he pouted, “I know this is really silly of me but, but please look at me as well.”

“Oh Deuce,” you sighed affectionately, taking one of his hands and rubbing circles with your thumb on the back of it, “I’m always looking at you. I’m sorry, handsome, I guess I got a bit too caught up looking after the tsum tsum.”

“Don’t apologise,” he said hurriedly, “you were just helping us out. I should’ve said something sooner.”

“But still,” you cut yourself off at his look, “alright. But you have to understand. He’s a little version of my boyfriend - how could I not love him?”

“Yeah, I guess-”

“Almost as much as I love you.”

You - wha - why do you have to be so dangerous to his heart?

And he kisses you again. When the little guy launches itself up to headbut him in the cheek, he expertly catches it in his fist, opening an eye to look at its squirming body and smiles.

I win

[st4rtar0t]

How would your future lover describe you

Please reblog to support!

Picture one

Dear diary,

Today was extraordinary because I encountered someone truly enchanting. Amidst the bustling crowd, she stood out like a radiant star. Her smile was so captivating that it felt like a beam of light. I couldn't help but be mesmerized by her sheer beauty. Everything about her was like a spell – the way she laughed, the conversations with her friends, even the casual gesture of tucking her hair behind her ears. It's strange, diary, but I believe I might be experiencing love at first sight, a concept I never thought was real. Her presence has left an indelible mark on my heart. I find myself eagerly anticipating the chance to see her again each day. Perhaps, one day, I'll gather the courage to approach her. Until then, I'll be content admiring her from a distance, cherishing the glimpses of her that make each day extraordinary.

Picture two

Dear diary,

As I strolled down the bustling street, an extraordinary moment unfolded before me – the sight of the woman I believe to be my future wife. It might sound a bit fanciful, but the instant our eyes met, an inexplicable certainty dawned upon me, a conviction that she is the one with whom I will share my life. I find myself yearning to embark on adventures together, to fulfill her every desire, to build a family with her, and to remain by her side until my final breath and beyond, into my next existence. It's almost surreal, and I can't shake the feeling that I might be losing my mind. Yet, with each passing second, my love for her deepens, creating an enchantment that I wholeheartedly embrace. She has cast a spell on me, and I find myself not only under its influence but utterly content with the magic she brings into my life.

Picture three

Dear diary,

I need to tell you about someone who is like a beacon of hope in my life. You probably already guessed it – yes, I'm talking about her again. I realize I might have been going on about her a lot lately, and you might be getting tired of it. But how can I not talk about her? This relationship is unlike any I've experienced before. In moments when I had nothing to offer, she extended her helping hand without expecting anything in return. Her love is a pure and selfless kind, something I hadn't known before. I find myself deeply in love with her, and that love is unwavering. Regardless of what the future holds, my affection for her remains constant. Even during those difficult nights when I felt lost and shed tears in search of love, every ounce of pain and longing seems justified now. It's as if all those moments were leading me to her, making our connection even more precious.

[leieatsmen]

song jia , jennie kim and wonyoung affirmations

꒰ა i have the most beautiful aura ever, when i walk into a room everyone looks at me in awe

꒰ა i’m the ultimate it girl, i have it all

꒰ა i’m on everyone’s mood board, i’m who everyone wants to be

꒰ა i have angelic beauty, i look heaven sent and just give off otherworldly beauty

꒰ა i’m effortlessly beautiful. i wake up beautiful , go to bed beautiful i live beautiful. beauty is all around me in every aspect

꒰ა i’m a muse

꒰ა i’m so perfect and so beautiful i deserve to be in museums and galleries

꒰ა i attract abundance, love and kindness

꒰ა i’m barbie personified

꒰ა i don’t care about what anyone has to say about me because i know im the person everyone wishes they were

꒰ა i act the way i want to be treated

꒰ა i can make a room quiet just by walking in

꒰ა i’m highly magnetic and i leave everyone shocked with my charm, presence and charisma

꒰ა i have people wanting more of me because i draw them in

꒰ა i’m always true to myself and confident

꒰ა i’m so mesmerizing and enchanting i attract people on another level like a spell

꒰ა i don’t let any negativity get to me, i’m so unbothered, unfazed and nonchalant towards hate because i’m better than it

꒰ა i have the best self concept ever , my mindset is on top of everything

꒰ა i’m irresistible , i get what i want no matter what.

꒰ა i love myself

xtra ⤹

vaunting : it’s so hard being so beautiful, everyone looks at me and i’m automatically the center of attention, i turn heads wherever i go because people are always sucked into to my presence. i have the most beautiful and perfect self concept ever. everything always works out for me and it’s so crazy how successful i am because i’m so worthy of everything i desire

quote : "as soon as we succeed in transforming ourselves, the world will melt magically before our eyes and reshape itself in harmony with that which our transformation affirms." - neville goddard

thank you for reading and sharing if you did i really appreciate it and i hope you enjoy this:) these were highly requested so i hope this helps. until next time!

ఇ  lei

[thisonehere]

Not sure if your requests will be open by the time you see this but I want to know it you would do a scenario where Bi-Zhan and the Y/n who were childhood friends who were gonna be bethroned when their were older for a alliance between both their clans, however Y/N’s clan is attacked and disbanded due to a coup/enemy or something. So Bi-Han and the rest of the Lin Kuei thinks they have died until years later. (How ever you write I would be thankful)

A/n: Omg, the very concept makes me feel so😭 I hope I did your request justice. If there are any rewrites or changes you'd like to make feel free to send another ask❤️ C/w: Arranged Marriage, Mentions of violence, angst, fluff

Bi-han always remembered you kindly. Though you were from a different clan, you were allowed to interact with the Lin Kuei.

When you were children, he remembered how you used to play with his brothers and how he always watched from a distance. He wasn't the most social when he was younger, and not a fan of interacting with people. But you did something to him, you brought out a more adventurous side to him.

He loved to spend time with you, he loved to hear your laugh, your smile was so enchanting, and he found everything about you enchanting. Whenever he would talk down to Tomas you wouldn't hesitate to defend him and argue with Bi-Han, You never backed down from him. Others had respected Bi-Han even at a young age and feared him even, though he was next in line to become grandmaster, but you didn't. You never hesitated to argue with him, giving him a piece of your mind. You had spunk, he admired that. Even though he hid it all under a cold and harsh facade, he really liked you.

As you both grew up, you had more duties to fulfill so you could not spend much time together. But that didn't stop Bi-Han from thinking of you. You would race around his mind often. Every word you said, every gesture you made, your...body...etc.

If Bi-Han found you attractive when you were a kid, he finds you even more beguiling now at this age. You walked with an air of confidence and elegance that took his breath away. His bitter and harsh nature grew with time while you still kept your joy and loving nature. Many times Bi-Han had to leave the room whenever you were around to calm down, you still made him feel that warm feeling inside after all these years.

Years passed and the day came when the talk of you two marrying to form an alliance.

When Bi-Han first heard the whispering of your potential arranged marriage, he had a mix of emotions. Half of him was upset, he had no desire to marry and it angered him that his right to choose was being made for him. On the other hand, this was you he was being married off to. He struggled to fight his desire for you. The need to have you. By his side, in his arms, on his lips.

Bi-Han would argue at first, that though he really liked you, he still refused to marry. But he silently relented when the news of your marriage became official. His fury was now replaced with a nervousness about you.

As was the custom, Bi-Han and you would meet alone (mostly) and he presented you with gifts. when he saw you arrive in your most formal and elegant attire he swore he almost melt right then and there. He has never seen you like this before, and he liked it.

Bi-Han was so silent and distant during the meeting that you thought he wasn't interested. When in reality he was barely holding it together. His mind was racing with thoughts about you. He wanted to know what was going through your head. If you were as nervous as him, do you even want to do this? His eyes never left you the entire time.

Bi-Han waited anxiously to hear back from you after departed from each other, he had hoped he had made a good impression. He knew that you'd be married if you wanted to or not, but still felt the desire, no, the need to know that you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

Bi-Han waited anxiously for a response, the future plans for your wedding day, the living arrangements afterwards, anything. But days passed and he didn't hear a word from your clan.

Unbeknownst to anyone trusted members of your clan had been plotting a coup against you and your family for years. The planning of the marriage to Lin Kuei had given them the perfect moment to strike.

You can remember it, you being awoken by a sudden and loud loud commotion outside. Like an entire battle was taking place, clan members rushed into you and took you away. It took only a few days and nights before anyone knew it, your clan was gone. reduced to ash, rubble, and memories.

Word of the sudden uprising took weeks before they could reach the Lin Kuei. When it did, the grandmaster dreaded breaking the news to Bi-Han. He was not blind, he could see how desperately he waited to hear from you. He knew this would destroy him. Fortunately, Kuai rose and offered to be the one to tell him.

"What is the meaning of this?" Bi-han asked gruffly, he was sitting by the window sill in his personal chambers, Kuai stood before him awkwardly. "Bi-Han, I come to bring news about Y/n and your marriage arrangements". Bi-han looked over to his brother almost instantly. He hated how quickly he looked, but he was desperate to listen and he couldn't care right now. "Well? Out with it." he barked. Kuai bit his and stared at his brother. He saw the anguish in his eyes. How could he possibly tell him?

"Well?" Bi-han asked again, getting impatient. With a gulp, Kuai told him everything about the coup and your potential death. The room went painfully quiet for a minute. Kuai searched Bi-han's eyes to see some kind of response. He swore he could have seen his brother's heartbreak. "Well...that is unfortunate," Bi-Han said abruptly, a strain in his voice. Kuai sympathetically looked at his brother "I am so sorry, I know how much you-" Kuai began to say. "That is enough. " Bi-Han interrupted. "you have delivered me this news. I thank you for it. Now, would you be so kind as to leave?" he said coldly. Turning his back to Kuai.

Kuai was taken aback by this. He clenched his jaw and turned to the door. "I understand. I-If you ever want to talk I am here. Kuai quickly left the room and closed the door behind him. but he didn't leave quite yet, he leaned close to the door to listen in. He heard a cry of anger and a cacophony of things being thrown, walls being punched, and muffed sobbing. After some time, couldn't bear to listen to this anymore and he left.

After this moment, Bi-han changed. he was already cold before, but he became even more frosty and apathetic. He began to bark orders more aggressively, and he became more ferocious and violent whenever he trained, he never hesitated to snap at Tomas, Kuai, or anyone who caused any minor inconvenience to him.

Kuai attempted to reach out to Bi-han many times to get him to talk about it. But Bi-Han didn't hesitate to hut him down at every turn.

As time passed Bi-han grew older and became Grandmaster after his father's untimely and mysterious death. It was obvious that he wasn't over you. He would sometimes send spies to hunt down anyone who was any bit involved, as well as investigate the aftermath. He held on to hope that you miraculously survived and came back to him. but as the years passed, that idea seemed less and less likely.

Eventually, he just gave up hope that you survived. It hurt him to let you go but had no choice but to move on. Part of him still desperately clinging to your memory, hoping that the day would come that he would see you again.

As Grandmaster Bi-han soon grew to have many responsibilities. One of them included looking after lesser clans and villages that he took under the Lin Kuei's protectection. One day he had news that he had buisness in one of those small villages, thus he made his way there. Once there, he found himself in a meeting. He listened intently, not breaking eye contact and making sure they had his full attention.

But then he heard something. A laugh. The most enchanting laugh that he has heard before coming from outside. His entire focus was disturbed as jumped at this sound. his head snapped to the direction he heard the noise, causing the people he was having a meeting with freeze in confusion and ask if he is okay. Bi-han doesn't respond, instead he rises to his feet and begins to follow the place he heard the laugh. It was like he was in a trance as he walked outside. His mind was racing. It can't be? Can it? Please, let it be....

His eyes darted this way and that to look for the source of the noise. He prawled the premises, searching every corner for the chance to see whatever that noise was coming from. But he found nothing, he sighed, feeling silly for doing this. He turned to return inside, until he heard it again. It was closer this time. Bi-han didn't waist a second as his feet moved like lightning. He turned the corner...and there you were. Walking the down the street with two warriors walking with you to keep guard.

Everything in Bi-Han froze. All hecould do was stare at you. It all was coming back to him, the times you would spend together as children, arguing you did as teens, you to-be marriage you had as yound adults. An icy trailed down his face, he hadn't realized just how much he missed until today, until this moment. he wanted to speak, call out to you and let you know that he was there, you could be together. But he couldn't find the strength to utter a single word. he could only watch as he watched you walk away.

Even after he retreated back the building and finished the building. afterwards he went he resting place for the night. But he couldn't sleep. Not after seeing you again. The years had passed but you had retained your youthful smile and you were more beautiful than ever. Visions of your smile haunted Bi-han mind. You looked so happy, as if you didn't have a care in the world. Didn't you even remember him? If he had approached you, would you have welcomed him into your arms with joy, or would you just stare at him like he was a stranger. He turned over in his bed and looked at the empty spot next to him. If things hadn't happened the way they did, it would've been you laying next to him.

The next day, Bi-Han's buisness with the people was done and he prepared him and his men to return home. But Bi-han still couldn't get you out of his head. He exscued himself as he went back into the streets, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. But you were nowhere to be seen. Bi-han lowered his head inshame, he had lost you again. He felt a strange feeling erupt inside of him, loneliness, if he couldn't be with you, he couldn't be with anyone else. Perhaps this was his destiny, being alone. maybe that was the best for him. he turned once more to go back inside the house.

"Bi-Han...?" he heard a gentle voice behind him. His heart dropped in his chest. He had heard his name being called many times before, but this voice mad him feel like he was hearing it all for the first time. He spun around to face who was addressing him. It was you, staring up at him with you awe-inspiring eyes. "Y-Y/n..." he stammered, something he never usually did. All his life, Bi-han had been a dominant man. Never stuttering or faultering in his words and would be move with an intimidating confidence. But before you, he was a dodderig fool. His eyes shoot all around you face, there was a hundred different things he wanted to do but he was unsure on what to even say.

Thankfully, you act for him. you rush into his arms and tightly embrace him. Bi-han's arms wrap around with an incredible strength, as if he feared you would be taken from him all over again. You pull a way for a few moments to look at each others face. Bi-Han's hands gently touched your cheeks as he stares into you eyes. Tears were forming in them, and tears were forming in his as well. "Y/n, how are you...I..." He struggled to find the right words. All he could do was look into your eyes and weep.

When you both had finally calmed down, you explained to him how you managed to escape, how you went into hiding for so many years struggling rebuild your clan. It had gotten easier when many of the people who launched the coup began to mysteriously die. You had finally managed to rebuild your clan back to a decent state, still working on retaining it former glory, but it would do for now. Bi-Han could barely contained himself, he was overwhelmed with emotions he had suppressed when he had first though you were. dead. He smiled at you, marveled with how much a great leader you have become.

You continued to talk. The world was moving around you, but you couldn't care less. You were lost in each other, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Soon you began to talk about your failed arranged marriage. You laugh, admitting how nervous you were to meet him...and how much you wanted to marry him.

Bi-Han stared in silence for some time. He took it all in. For years he had agonised on whether or not you even wanted bo in the same room as him.You saying this had an unknowingly powerful effect o him. "Y/n..." he said, taking your hand. "I...I always lov-was fond of you. Perhaps you are still interested in joining our clans through marriage....If that is what you desire of course. Even if that is not the case, I would still be honored to be allowed to support your clan, help bolster it's proper status. Anything for you..."

Bi-Han patiently waits for you reponse, immeditalty regretting saying that. "Forgive me, that was foolish. I-" he tries to explain himself. "I accept." you say abruptly. Bi-Han was struck dumb for a second. You quik response left him speechless. He places his hands back onto cheeckas he looks into you eyes. His lips quivered as his eyes get watery. "Y/n...I won't let a single soul take you away ever again...I swear this to you."

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Resident Evil Village characters with a chubby fem s/o

Dating Headcanons (+ Some bonus drabbles for a few)

Including Alcina Dimitrescu, Karl Heisenberg, Donna Beneviento, Salvatore Moreau and Mother Miranda

(Reader is somewhat coquette? Princesscore? Just the dainty feminine type)

Credits to dividers used are on this post.

Rules for requests

If you don't want to send requests through Tumblr, my Instagram is always an option.

Please interact with this post as much as possible, it helps a lot. Thank you <3

A/n: Hi lovelies, Lia here. I'm back after a long time. I hope you enjoy this post and I'll be setting up my schedule soon, I'll be posting once or twice every 1-2 week/s. If you can't tell, purple has always been my theme. I'll add more to these and edit it if I think of more to add. Any mistakes will be corrected upon checking.

This is just me but I love the concept of like a girl who is so sweet and her style just looks so fem and she's just surrounded by all the creepy things that are resident evil.

I'll be checking and if this post does well I will write more.

Warnings/Disclaimers: English is not my first language so please don't come after me. Blood, gore?, violence, typical resident evil stuff and mentions of insecurity. Slight suggestive content if you squint.

Alcina Dimitrescu

First of all despite your plush stature, she still treats you like a porcelain doll.

She just adores you so much (I mean she herself is tall and plus size).

Motherly nature and all, she has three daughters and honestly if she ever sees you interact with them. It would just warm her cadou infested heart.

Insecure about stretch marks? She'll kiss that shit away right then and there. She'll even show you hers because let's be honest here stretch marks are beautiful, you just don't like them on yourself.

Anyone insults or talks shit about you? She'll get rid of them, in any way possible depending on what they said. She'll pick a suitable punishment for them, ranges from "you're fired" to "I'm going to skin you alive and tear your heart out".

Alcina is a confident and dominant figure, she isn't swayed by something so small as beauty standards. Especially in herself, therefore I think she'd even help you build your confidence up.

Gifts galore with this woman, she love to spoil you with her riches. Loves to see you adorned with luxurious items that she give you.

Love dressing up with you, seeing you all dolled up for her. Has custom made clothes for you, sometimes opts for an outfit that matches or contrasts yours perfectly.

Knows what compliments your features best since she loves to bring them out.

Her hosting soirees and balls with you as her special guest, having you wear elegant dresses that she bought for you.

I see her as this almost touchy type. She'll love having you curl up on her lap while she gets paperwork done.

Her reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to her:

You called Alcina's attention wanting to see her reaction to the new dress you bought, Alcina's eyes lit up at your elegance and charm. She smiled warmly, taking your hand in hers. "You look enchanting, my darling," she purred, proud to have you by her side.

Karl Heisenberg

Stinky metal dilf here actually loves that you're so soft in contrast to his gruff and abrasive nature.

He hasn't had physical affection in a long time so having someone soft and warm to hold is new to him.

Karl is naturally protective over you, especially because he thinks you're fragile. I mean compared to whatever's in the village, the rest of the lords and Mother Miranda.

I bet you this man has tore down someone for you, he chopped them off limb by limb for insulting you.

I can't get enough of the dynamic you'd have. It's like the grumpy x sunshine trope, this man has a sharp tongue. Especially when you hear him insult Lady Dimitrescu.

This man has a soft spot for you, I'm pretty sure you're the only one who can make him take a bath after being all sweaty from working with machinery all day.

I feel like he has scars all of his body, especially his very toned back.

Doesn't mind you leaving scratches when you're in the bedroom

Alcina sometimes tries to piss him off by commenting at the fact that you are soft and dainty while Karl is just the opposite and offers you an opportunity to be with "Someone refined" (She ain't wrong).

It really is just to get to Karl's nerves.

His reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to him:

Karl smirked, trying to play it cool, but you could see the admiration in his eyes. "Not bad, princess," he teased, pulling you into a hug. He whispered softly, "You're somethin' special, ya know?"

Donna Beneviento

You know Donna understands what it's like being insecure about looks but to her you're just perfect in every single way.

Donna just doesn't give a shit in a good way, she doesn't judge people based on their appearance. It's dumb and shallow.

Donna would absolutely adore making clothes for you or altering your current ones. It's a skill she's proud of and seeing you appreciate it makes her all the more in love with you.

Angie has made a few comments resulting in her getting kicked off into space but once Donna warms her about that and how you don't like it, she'll stop in respect towards you. Which is rare considering how Angie is.

Donna's personal style definitely helps contrast yours, though it's the opposite from your soft light colors.

Thinks you're so pretty, she's smitten. Even though yours are different from you, she still makes use of her skills to fit your clothing tastes.

I can just imagine her staring at you in awe as you spin around and show her how the dress she made fits you. I like to think she has your measurements memorized from head to toe.

She take one look at something and already know how it would fit on you or if she needs to alter.

You once asked her to make a doll that looks like the both of you (and Angie but like a smaller version that fits the doll's arms).

Donna entered your shared bedroom to find you but noticed something on the shelves. It was the dolls she made sitting against the book. She noticed how you positioned them. Holding hand while the tiny Angie replica was on the doll version of her's lap. Donna swore at that moment she was gonna melt.

Her reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to her:

Donna's expression softened as she saw you in the vintage lace dress. She held your hand, wordlessly conveying her affection and admiration.

Salvatore Moreau

God so help him, he was flabbergasted when he first heard about your insecurity. Literally why? Like you are just the most beautiful thing that walked the planet in his eyes.

He just worships the ground you walk on, he isn't as wealthy as the other lords but still, he give you his best efforts by carving you small trinkets out of wood.

Gifts you natural things he finds like crystals and whatnot.

Best of efforts when he comforts you. Sometimes he's too scared to physically touch you because he thinks he'll hurt you.

You're relationship is filled mostly by nature, despite the wasteland that surrounds your living area. It's hauntingly beautiful in it's own way. (Some of it I suppose)

Feels more at ease around you, think about how much he wanted to just make Mother Miranda proud of him, he's that with you but 10x more the effort.

His reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to him:

Salvatore couldn't contain his delight at seeing you in the dress. "You're my beautiful water nymph princess!" he exclaimed, spinning you around with excitement.

Mother Miranda

You peeked her interest when she first saw you, I mean you're her complete opposite. She finds beauty in dark items and almost gothic stuff, so her taking an interest to you just made her even more curious.

She works a lot so gifts and trinkets to remind you of her are an occasional thing. I can just imagine you taming crows and she's just in awe.

Loyalty of crows means they leave you shiny trinkets and sometimes Miranda takes them for herself when she likes whatever they bring.

Again she's one to think you're fragile because of your style, you just look so cute and soft.

Nobody dares insult you, I mean if you really won the heart of Mother Miranda they are fucked if they even speak a little out of line.

Likes to keep you by her side despite working a lot. So you'd often be by her side during her meetings with the four lords and honestly you are such an eye candy.

Her reaction seeing you in a dress that you wanted to show off to her:

Mother Miranda's composure remained regal, but her eyes showed approval. "You look exquisite" she acknowledged, holding your hand with reverence. To her, you were a jewel among mortals, deserving of admiration.

[joydemorra]

Do you ever start something as a joke and lose complete control over your life?

In a world of dwindling hope, love has never mattered more... [read the full blurb here]

What is Hunger Pangs?

Hunger Pangs, often shortened to “Phangs” by the self-proclaimed phangdom, is my debut romance novel, published in Nov 2020, featuring a deaf, disabled werewolf, a neurodivergent, mad scientist vampire, and an all-powerful enchantress who is the last of her kind.

It is the first book in a slow-burn, polyamorous gaslamp fantasy romance series focusing on the relationship(s) and antics of the three main characters, Nathan Northland, Vlad Blutstein, and Lady Ursula, as they work to save the world they love from imminent magical and ecological disaster.

The first book primarily focuses on the relationship between Nathan and Vlad, with Ursula heavily alluded to in the next book (Pride and Folly) via some shameless flirting and stolen, impulsive kisses.

No love triangles here. Just three highly competent, world-saving bisexuals sharing the same brain cell the closer they get to each other.

There are two editions of the novel. The Flirting with Fangs edition depicts on-page sexual acts, and the Fluff and Fangs edition which uses alternative scenes/fade-to-black scenes for those who prefer not to read depictions of sex. You can read more about why I decided to do this here.

How Did Phangs come to be?

Like most things on my blog, the original concept began as a joke. My friend and enabler, @jeneelestrange, and I were talking about our least favorite tropes in romance/erotica, including but not limited to toxic “alpha” werewolves, brooding stalker vampire boyfriends, and the absolute profound bullshit that is the Conflicted Love Triangle and Bury Your Gays.

Eventually, it culminated in this post:

(source)

It was meant to be a joke. I really cannot emphasize this enough. It was meant to be a shitpost between friends.

A throwaway ADHD impulse.

Tumblr, however, wanted more of these posts, and like a swarming mass of drift-compatible rats in a trench coat, grabbed hold of my lack of impulse control and Ratatouille'd me into becoming an international bestselling author, and, well, here we are.

I also started writing the series while dying, which I highly do not recommend as a functional creative process.

Absolutely do not start a 500k five-part novel series about love and hope while dying from an undiagnosed genetic disorder. Or if you do, make sure you actually die so you don't have to edit the damn thing. (I am mostly kidding.)

What are the themes/tropes/character dynamics of the book?

In the simplest of terms, Phangs is a queer-polyamorous-paranormal-satirical-romance series featuring vampires, werewolves, and all other manner of creatures that go bump in the night.

It is set in a pseudo-regency meets fake-Victorian Gaslamp Fantasy world, complete with gothic castles, enchanted forests, and just a smidge of industrial coal dust.

Style-wise, Phangs has been described by readers as "like reading the queer, goth love child of Terry Pratchett meets Jane Austen," and I've never been more proud of anything in my life.

If Game of Thrones ascribes to the idea that the night is dark and full of terrors, Phangs is the monster-fucker politely sidling up to them at the bar and asking if they can buy them a drink.

It is also primarily a love letter to fandom, which has led some people to believe it’s fanfiction with the serial labels filed off. But as the person who spent five years agonizing over the world-building, I can assure you this is all very much the product of my weird little ADHD brain picking up tropes, shaking them upside down, and running off with whatever fun and interesting things shake loose.

As already stated, the first book, True Love Bites, focuses primarily on the relationship between Captain Nathaniel J. Northland and Viscount Vlad Blutstein.

The first part of the book primarily focuses on Nathan coming home injured from war and trying to find his place in the world as newly deaf and disabled -- something which alienates him from his werewolf family, who don't know what to do with an injury that can't be mended by a full moon.

While working on the island of Eyrie, he encounters Viscount Blutstein -- Vlad-- a neurodivergent, mad scientist dandy vampire with an enthusiasm for demonic botany and a streak of unfailing kindness as broad and expansive as the sky.

It's not so much love at first sight for the pair as instantaneous lust hampered by the restrictions of polite 1880 society and old ingrained prejudices that make them think the other couldn't possibly be interested in them that way. They're just misreading all those heartfelt stares and sexually charged chess games.

(The love is requited, your honor, they're just idiots.)

Both characters are explicitly queer/mspec, as is Ursula, who drops into their world like a magical atom bomb going off, but not before she spends her own parts of the book desperately trying to figure out what manner of dark entity is killing the magical shrines around the world that keep the world alive.

Thematically, the series touches on many things, but the book’s overriding theme is love. Romantically, of course, and love between families, both found or otherwise. But also love as an act of courage. As a choice. An act of defiance in dark and troubling times, and what it means to be loved and belong even though you’re different.

Especially when you’re different.

And I really fucking hope you enjoy it.

To read the full synopsis and check out the heat ratings, buy links and content tags, go to www.joydemorra.com

[raayllum]

ALRIGHT, time to talk about the poster in lovely HD.

First things first, I want to talk about these two ladies (?). The upper one closer to the moon looks more like an elf, and is gazing down at the second, closer woman. I've seen people speculate Ziard due to the hair, but none of this usual clothing appendages are there, so I lean towards a new character, and possibly being the human Aaravos had a special connection to. We see what looks like the arches of the Moon Nexus framed behind them, which was the case both when Rayla went through the portal in TTM and when Lujanne used historia viventum to show Callum the way things looked before. Souls of hate and love, maybe?

We see other Moon symbols throughout the posture sure as archangel lunarises, which seek out Moon magic (1x01) and can be used in illusion spells (2x03, 3x09). We also see the enchanted lotuses from 3x03, though for what purpose is unclear (more on that later).

Moving down, we have a fully celestial, quite happy Aaravos. He's in full flourish and clearly using Moon magic for someone, as begetting the moon behind him, though whether he's constructing lotuses or channeling energy into his Key (perhaps making it able to sense Moon magic) is unknown. While the lotuses in 3x03 were occasionally different colours, the deep purple here makes me think of dark magic. If he is channeling his cube, perhaps he's taking moon energy from the lotuses (or moths) surrounding him to put inside.

I don't think I need to scream much further than I already have about the Moon rune glowing on his Key and having it displayed with his usual star symbol (rune cube foreshadowing symbolism my beloved). This bodes well for theories in which 1) Callum goes too far and does something knowingly risky to free the Moon fam for Rayla's sake or 2) does something risky to help Aaravos to protect Rayla's life, each subsequently to being possessed and/or playing into Aaravos' hands. Thank you goodnight.

Then we have the book, which is deeply fascinating. It seems like a very Moon book, the fragments framing it similar to the ones we see on the lotuses and possibly evoking one of the archangel lunaris' flying around. It wouldn't surprise me if the book contains a variant of Deep moon magic of some kind, whatever that would look like. The crescent curved moon is also similar to the symbol we see on Aaravos' poem page for the Midnight Star in show (2x08). I do wonder why each side of the book looks so different though, with no actual visible moon in sight besides the tiny gemstones and the crescent moon, the other side being entirely dark (which, to be fair, is pretty moon-y).

We also sort of but don't quite see Aaravos' famous chest piece, though it is a-glowing. Whether it glowed all the time pre-Fall we just don't know, as the only time we've seen it glow/be filled in is 2x09 when he's channeling magic through Viren, but who knows. It does mean that the cube is even older than his banishment and that if it does hold his chest piece, it was placed after (if it's tangible at all, which has always been one of the biggest questions).

This is perhaps the weirdest thing that I am the most interested in, as alongside his crown and bangles, this is the biggest design difference between Aaravos in-show and out. In show, both in his mirror and even 'pre-Fall' (aka the timeline for the 1x01 shot is probably a lie anyway), Aaravos' hip thingy is a lot more simplistic.

However, Aaravos does have all his flowery (and I mean that literally, it looks like petals) adornment in his concept art.

The fact they have a lotus flower flair to them always felt interesting but ultimately like a coincidence, but perhaps not. Either way as pictured below, it seems like he's either constructing or dismantling the lotuses, which is Eyes Emoji either way.

The most... surely metaphorical / abstract portion of the poster, though, is I'd imagine the very bottom. I hesitate to read into things too literally (one of the S5 posters had Finnegrin's ship being blasted with lightning and Domina watching the waves, and while she featured in the season and played a role in Finnegrin's aims, the scene itself as portrayed did not come fully to fruition) so I'm gonna go with a more symbolic read, just as as disclaimer.

Lastly we have these two figures. I'm assuming the one in white is an elf and betting on young Aaravos or Leola, though it could be someone else connected to the Moon arcanum (the elven daughter who vouched for exiling rather than eliminating humanity?). The red and black shadow figure feels far more sinister (blood and stardust, anyone) but if you lighten the shadows, you get something even more... interesting, shall we say.

Rather than standing up straight, this figure almost seems to swoop down with a draconic like claw and a face that reminds me the most of Sir Sparklepuff's features, honestly, perhaps boasting a similar kind of blood (Viren's) and star (Aaravos) and dark magic (the staff?). It is also clearly moving toward the more humanoid figure on the bottom right, which gives a "corruption is reaching / coming for / offering things to you" sort of vibe.

[aphroditelovesu]

could you write a love letter 💌 of yandere Simon Basset x gender neutral reader and I also have a question do you can answer it as a concept do you think reader could ever convince Simon to have a baby I can imagine reader begging him with her pretty eyes and I think Simon’s heart would melt away but I don’t know if he would agree because of the promise

Dear Miss/Mister (L/N),

How sublime it is to delve into the deepest corners of your being. Every beat of my heart echoes your name, wrapped in a desire that consumes my soul. You are the very essence of perfection, a ray of light that illuminates my dark world.

My days unfold in an incessant search to find you, to feel your soft and soothing touch on my restless soul. My love for you overflows the limits of reason, consuming me like a voracious flame that cannot be contained.

I promise to protect every piece of your being, even if it means building walls around us. I know my devotion to you may seem like too much to handle right now, but it's just the fear of losing the light that brought meaning to my existence.

How difficult it is to contain the voracity of my feelings for you. Every time I see you, my heart stirs into an indomitable frenzy, yearning for your presence, your enchanting smile and the grace that emanates from you.

May the heavens bear witness to my eternal devotion to you, my dear. Even if the whole world opposes you, I will be by your side, ready to defend our love tooth and nail.

Allow me to be your shield, your guardian, and, above all, your unconditional love. May my existence be a tribute to your happiness, my beloved, because without you, my life would be a shadow, devoid of meaning and purpose.

With love and devotion,

Simon Basset, the Duke of Hastings.

Although Simon doesn't want to have children at first, I don't see him changing that desire even as a yandere, however in some situations I can see him wanting to get his darling pregnant. If she begs, Simon will probably relent since he has sworn he will make her happy and if having children is what she wants, then so be it.

I can also see him wanting to get his darling pregnant for more selfish reasons, like keeping her tied to him. A pregnant woman becomes more vulnerable in his eyes.

[todorokies]

DEATH AND THE MAIDEN - choso kamo

✩࿐ choso finds meaning in this hellish world within the confines of your bedroom . . .

contents: smut, softdom!fem!reader, cunnilingus, hair pulling, implications that reader is someone with high status of royalty, choso is reader’s courtier, sub!choso, slapping (just once), power dynamics (?), choso calls reader ‘m’lady’, nineteenth century gothic victorian era, installment of my spookfest event

a/n: this is a bit more lengthy than my usual work however i hope u all enjoy !! pls support by reblogging

the haunting hours of midnight has struck causing the grandfather clock from above to make its presence known with three loud echoing chimes rumbling the surface below. the silent night was perfect for the noticed to go unnoticed within the dark palace.

choso finds himself hurrying his pace, swiftly avoiding the huge stained glass windows that reflected the moonlight throughout the long corridor. leaning towards the shadows despite the residents having long blown out their candles that rest on their nightstands the fear of getting caught cannot be shaken out of his psyche.

with each thudding step he took it felt as if the corridor was elongating on it’s own preventing him from reaching his one and only, his small taste of spring after an everlasting winter, the only one to pull him out of the ongoing cycle of misery.

soon enough, he finds himself stationed infront or your detailed baroque door. his body thinks faster than his mind raising his chuckles to knock a specific tune to notify you it’s him.

the door opens with faint creaks revealing you clad in a white frilly nightgown that hit just above the knees. the sheer and delicate fabric cascaded your body and heavily outlined the curve of your tits. choso silently cursed himself for already feeling his cock pathetically throb at the mere sight of you,

“would you care to come in?” you break him out of the enchanting spell you unknowingly cast upon him.

he sheepishly clears his throat, “yes of course, m’lady.” he steps in, taking note of the spike in temperature compared to the cold hallway, “you can drop the formalities when it’s just us, you know?”

“i rather not m’lady, i still want to show you respect despite how improper we act towards each other.” you simply hum in acknowledgment, moving to face him to soak in his beauty that must only be examined under the divine moonlight.

the hefty dark circles that clings onto his skin leaves you in awe. as you lift a finger to graze his thick birth mark that gracefully paints over his nose, he stills his breath, leaning his forehead against yours with his eyes closed.

“something on your mind, cho?” he falters a bit due to the nickname —the concept of improper name calling is new to him— having to catch his own footing before tripping; your voice is dipped in honey. it stirs warmth in the pit of his stomach.

“same old stuff that usually sits on my mind,” he grimaces and you sport a frown knowing he is hinting at the stubborn thoughts that trouble him at night.

he notices a few creases on your forehead and plants a chaste kiss to calm your nerves, “don’t worry, that’s my job remember? i’m here to service and cater to your needs.”

“is that why you’ve ask me to accompany you tonight? you need my services?” he refers to the note you slipped in the palm of his hand earlier in the day regarding a fitting of a dress. when in truth, it was a hoax to lure him in your quarters alone. if anything in that note was truthful, you wanted him to take off the current sleepwear that covers your body.

dismissing his inquiry, you wrap your arms around his neck with your fingers finding solace at the nape leaning in to enclose the small distance of air between the two of you.

soft mostizured lips captures his icy cold ones, it’s uncomfortable at first, jagged with errors and teeth clashing until choso’s hands sneak around your waist to pull you closer finding himself relaxing to your scent that engulfed him.

feeling him melt against your figure you take the initiative to dip your tongue into his mouth swirling around, exploring new territory. his knees buck wildly, feeling his bulge graze over the feathering fabric of your nightgown; feeling everything he beholds.

you’ve got him right where you want him.

you abruptly break the kiss, a thin string of saliva shimmers in your retreat from his lips as you lead him towards the foot of your bed.

with gentle force you send him onto his knees and a light thud echos from the wooden floors. you then take a seat on the bed positioning yourself directly infront of him.

“i do demand a unique kind of service only you can preform for me.” with furrowed brows, he looks up at you with curiosity not understanding your vague statement until you hike up your thin nightgown and widen your legs to give him a closer glance at your glistening cunt dripping with arousal.

choso’s breath gets caught in his throat. his mouth suddenly runs dry as his eyes flicker from your face and back to your slicked folds, needy and ready for him.

just for him.

a sharp stinging pain across his check snaps him out of his daze, “it’s rude to stare choso, especially at a lady waiting for her demanded services.” your stern voice combined with the quick slap has him scrabbling to attach his mouth immediately onto your throbbing clit.

he uses his tongue to expertly swirl around it, lewdly lapping at the sensitive nub. slick smears his chin as faint suckling and squelching bounces off the walls. his cold callused hands etch soothing patterns on your outer thighs. you hands grips at the root of his black locks of hair tugging occasionally to serve as encouragement.

soft whines and angelic moans carelessly leaves your lips. his tongue moves in vertical strides from your hole to your puffy clit then finally dipping his wet muscle in your drooling hole. he moans as he can taste you better like this, so sweet and savoury.

he darts his tongue in and out at a slow antagonizing pace. wanting nothing more than to collect every last drop you’d offer for him —a privilege he refuses to take for granted— whoever his speed did not please you in the slightest, you forcefully tug at his hair to bring him eye to eye, his already fucked out expression proves he wasn’t thinking clearly.

“you are in no position of power to prolong my pleasure, remember that choso.” you warn him cautiously.

he nods profusely seeking your forgiveness, “my apologies m’lady you just taste so sweet, can i please continue?” you don’t give him an answer instead you tug his face back at your pussy.

he moves his tongue vigorously with confidence this time, even adding his thumb to rub tight circles on your clit. the room gets even hotter as if the fireplace was roaring it’s scorching flames. breathy groans seep out of choso’s mouth bringing you closer to your release.

for as long as he can remember, choso has always questioned his existence. what sole meaning does he serve on this earth? but once he sees your face scrunch up in pleasure and thrashing your pretty little head around while gently pinching at your perky nipples everything clicks.

his sole purpose is to serve you. to please you in very aspect of life and in return he gets filled with a warm sense of belonging and love that softly kneads at his usually cold heart.

you cum hard on his tongue with a loud moan that would surely awaken the entire palace but at that very moment, choso would only gently lick you clean while being mindful to not overstimulate you, kiss you with devotion to calm you down and help you hydrate yourself.

you are his hopeful source of life that accompanies his woeful death; hand and hand you both complete each other’s soul.

tags: @chososwhoresblog

reblogs and feedback is extremely appreciated !! <3