#and I had a white phantom on my wedding day

[javelinbk]

[bejeweledblondie]

so excited about you having your requests open. I love your page!!

can I please request: Simon Ghost Riley x wife!reader?

Ghost and the rest of tf 141 are on a mission and end up getting detoured by who ever they are taking out (Russians, Hassan, etc). They need a safe house and quick! Well it just so happens simons place is right near by and simon takes them. the reader is home alone and just got out of the shower, she heard a bunch of men downstairs and gets freaked. In just her bathrobe, reader takes one of their safety guns and goes to defend herself against the “intruders” but really it’s just simon and gang

(sorry if this is long I got excited)

please and thanks

Hello! I’m so happy you’re enjoying my blog! I do apologize for the delay I was hospitalized for a lung infection (shit sucks dude I felt like a Victorian child dying of tuberculosis) but I’m all good now! So enjoy!

Simon “Ghost” Riley x F! Reader

Summary: After their mission becomes compromised Task Force 141 has to take up shelter in a safe house or the Riley Family home much to the surprise of Mrs. Simon Riley

Warnings: innuendos

“Come on I know a place.” Ghost grunted through his skull faced mask. The Lieutenant begrudgingly huffed & puffed leading the rest of his teammates through the forest that lead to the cottage where his family resided. After their location had been compromised Laswell ordered them to find a home in order to stay in where they’d go undetected. With them being only ten miles away from the cottage he called home with his wife, he knew it was the only option. Finally, after miles of hearing Gaz & Johnny complain about their feet aching they reached the wisteria ridden cottage.

He started to reach into his pocket & pulled out the key to his front door.

“Take your shoes off,” Ghost demanded. “We don’t want to track mud.” Photos of a very beautiful young woman in a wedding dress graced the walls of hallway leading into the living room. Simon could hear the water running in the upstairs bathroom indicating to him his beloved darling wife was showering.

“Simon, how do you know about this place?” Soap asked after he kicked his boots off. “I’m assuming you know the beautiful lassie in the photos.” Price chuckled to himself, knew about you. Simon had come to him to ask for advice on a lot of different things in regards to a marriage. His most recent was about children. It was just four months ago you had found out you were with child.

“Something like that.” Simon replied, & removed his mask. Gaz & Soap gave each other a glance knowing he must’ve felt very comfortable with his environment. A black & white cat rounded the corner out of the kitchen. He made a beeline for Simon & started to rub up against Simon’s legs. Bending down Simon grabbed the feline & started to pet him.

You had decided to run a shower, needing to wash away the grime of the day. Your current tired pregnant state made you incredibly drowsy. Resting your head against the cold tile you could’ve sworn you heard the door open. Chalking it up to pure exhaustion you ignored it. Then the all familiar sound of boots coming off by the front door made your head snap. You turned off the water, & dried yourself off. Wrapping yourself in your bathrobe & throwing on a pair of panties you grabbed the shot gun that laid next to the bed. If there was one thing Simon taught you was to defend yourself.

Slowly you started to make your way down the staircase shotgun pointed outwards. Once at the bottom you turned the corner into the hallway. Seeing the all familiar broad shoulders of your husband made you lower your shotgun.

“Si?” You asked clearly confused now cradling the shotgun in your arm. He turned around holding, Phantom your beloved tuxedo cat. “I thought you were supposed to be home in a few days.” You stated clearly confused.

“I’m sorry love, we needed somewhere to stay for a few days.” He replied. “Just until the heat dies down.” He gave you a kiss, much to the surprise of his teammates. “How the little one?” He asked placing one of his large hands on your lower abdomen.

“The usual,” You replied. “But overall we’re just fine.” Soap & Gaz stood there with their mouths wide open in shock.

“You have a kid?!” Soap asked.

“Back it up when did you get married?” Gaz asked. Price just stood there pinching the bridge of his nose at his teammates ruining the lovers moment. Simon holding his wife tightly now turned to face them.

“I got married three years ago, & we’re expecting our first child in five months.” Simon replied. “This is Mrs. Simon Riley, Y/N.”

“It’s so lovely to meet all of you.” You replied beaming. “Hi, John it’s nice to see you again.” You said waving at Price. Both Soap & Gaz looked at him shocked.

“What?!” John asked. “It wasn’t my responsibility to tell you.” Noticing your lack of clothing you excused yourself to change, & brought down old pajamas of Simon’s for the boys.

“The shower is open, & let me bake some cookies for you boys. You must be hungry.” You said. Simon took his usual spot on the couch & turned on Netflix. You loved taking care of Simon, he was the love of your life. The two of you depended on each other for everything. His job was a big stressor in his life & you wanted to make his home life as relaxing as you possibly could.

Soap, & Gaz were in seventh heaven in a world of hardened military men, the tender touch of a woman was exactly what they needed. Someone to just take care of them for a little bit to let them escape from the reality of their lives. Once the cookies were done you brought some plates out for them & then took your place right next to Simon on the couch. He pulled you in tightly, your head resting on his chest & his hand resting on your lower abdomen caressing the small bump. After a plate of cookies you both fell asleep on the couch. John himself was already knocked out in the little recliner that sat next to the couch his bucket hat covering his face. Gaz nudged Soap to look at their sleeping Lieutenant & his darling wife. It was so foreign to them to see him in such a soft state. They had seen him snap men’s necks the way you’d snap a Kit-Kat but here he was even in sleep being so gentle. Soon afterwards the two men also let sleep take over, letting the uncertainty of the situation become a problem for tomorrow.

[charmedreincarnation]

I got into the void using your challenge: live update

Day 1:

I said isn’t it wonderful once every hour: everytime I felt doubt I reminded myself isn’t it wonderful and the doubt went away. It kept me in very good mood and my desires did feel closer to me more than ever

Day 2:

Like the challenge said I started my day with Isn't it wonderful that I love and accept my godly ability to choose my reality, and I said that once and mediated on my limited beliefs to and tried to question why I should have them when I am god. I felt like a new person

I manifested so many things. Free coffee’, a cute man asking for my number, so many compliments from strangers which rarely happens, and not being late to class even though I’m always late. I was already becoming my dream self I envision after the void

I have a good vision board I was using for my visuals. Everytime something reminded me of my 3D, I stared at it on my phone to remind myself of the life I am living so why am I concerned, and I repeated isn’t it wonderful to remind myself of my wonderful life, it worked like a charm pun intended

It is night time so I am going to listen to the third video you recommended.

Tomorrow I will write about how grateful I am for all my desires that have manifested and meditate on the phrase it is done. My dream life is already here even if not in the 3D yet I have already become my imagination and I’m excited to fulfill my desires on the fourth day and I will message you my success story.

Day 3:

Today is my last day and I am already fulfilled. It really is wonderful. This morning I got up at 3 am (Happy Aïdd) and prayed on all the things I am grateful for. I went to sleep and woke up again. And journaled about all the wonderful things I have. My wealth, my beauty, my kind heart, the wonderful celebration in my beautiful house I am having with my family, my wonderful fiancé, mastery of the void state, the millions dollars of income I have flowing in my bank account yearly, my healthsafety and protection from god, all things that will be fulfilled the next time I close my eyes and open it. Then I wrote all my goals for the rest of the year, business plans, school plans, wedding plans, trip plans etc etc. this is a normal thing for me. All I could think is it is done this is my life MashaAllah

Update:

I was not planning into going to the void until after I went to bed. But I took a nap and woke up in the void thank you so much for this wonderful challenge

I woke up from my nap in a room I did not recognize I feared I had died, but it is here. I am not shocked or surprised, I don’t know how when I cried for this to happen for months but I have been fulfilled since the first day of the challenge so thank you dear 🙏

A shortened version of my desires

Living a luxurious life in Dubai

Living with all my family members in a 12 bedroom mansion in Dubai

Many house help who are treated with love and kindness and paid well

Loyal wealthy loving and god fearing handsome fiancé whom my family approve of

Attending zayned university

Hourglass body, and 36 inches of long healthy hair that never gets matted

Misgyony free household

10/10 beauty

Long natural nails that never break

High IQ that is respected

A white phantom rolls-Royce as my car

And a lot more 🙏 thank you to Loa tumblr and god himself. I pray all of this for you kind dearing souls

Another update

Tomorrow we throw a celebration and none of my family knows I did this, it is like we have always been rich and happy when we were poor and torn apart. I decorate and set up with my sisters, my mother is cooking 30 dishes, and my father for once is helping her clean up. He now worships here rather than abuses her. I am already getting many gifts, purses and jewelry I could only see in my dreams. My closet is very large the size of my old apartment 😂😂 I have hundreds of shoes and even more clothes and purses. I am in awe and greatful 🥰

Happy Aïdd😭😭🎉🎉💕 the fact that you got your desires on this wonderful day makes me so happy !!! You honestly did the challenge in more depth than I gave and it worked out so beautifully I am beyond happy for you beautiful anon 😭🫶🫶

[lumierexfics]

Chat Log Name : The smell of my love’s arbor

Chat Log Description : Eddie can’t seem to take his eyes off of you!

Online Users : Eddie Gluskin, Female! Reader

!! CW : Eddie being OOC, Phantom Pregnancy, Stalker-ish tendencies, Second Person POV!!

<< Ao3 link

Eddie was never allowed to have female nurses, oh how desperately he wanted to indulge in such tender flesh that he knew always wanted him. But his heart belonged to you, his flower. You were untouched; pure, a delicacy for him to unwrap and savor. How he watched from the window whenever you entered Mount Massive, not caring what the scientists did to him in the basement since your face is what he pictured during those experiments that made him feel his flesh rotting from the inside along the pulsating, wriggling bugs that danced within the rot.

He needed this. He needed to sneak out of his room and head towards the lounge where one of the windows perfectly overlooked the park lot though he would have never let you drive since it seemed too much of a demanding task—too delicate for you. His brows furrowed while he forced himself to stay awake to watch you leave your car but the dimly lit street light glowed around your car. Eddie’s eyes widened seeing you being walked down from the steps to your car by a man. You were clearly flirting back to him, the way you smiled back.

Today was a different day, a new day for him to watch you exit your car in the same parking spot that you have always parked in. He heard the whispers of your fellow nurses how you were graciously invited to Trager’s place but he didn’t know if you had accepted it. It tugged at his heart, you betrayed him but a small piece of salvation remained but the small piece of salvation flickered out as fast when it came to existence.

He couldn’t believe it, his eyes widened, seeing your pregnant stomach. Someone touched his pearl, his soon to be wife. He—Trager polluted your tender skin, no it was his wasn’t it? Did his wishes finally get answered?

Eddie hummed throughout the bloodied hallways.

“Rainbows day after day,” he mumbled the lyrics.

He smiled, scavenging through the bloodied rooms for clean cloth, sucking in breath and clicking his tongue in disappointment while using his knife to cut off pieces of white fabric that wasn’t coated in blood. He was near the entrance of the Mount Massive still scavenging and heard—smelled something so familiar from underneath the overwhelming aroma of metallic blood. His bloodstained black shoes walked towards a mixture pile of dismembered body parts and bodies.

“I will have to look around until.” He continued to say the lyrics while he knelt down and smelled a familiar perfume, moving organs till I reached it. “The right one I have found.”

He finally found you, nestled underneath the corpses; how the dried blood clung to your skin. You weren’t dead, he made sure that you weren’t dead. Clearly, you were happy to see him because you immediately wept out of excitement while desperately trying to escape; surely you wanted to get a view of your new home.

His back was turned, hearing the running water of the communal showers. He couldn’t have his new bride dirty and covered with the blood of other repulsive men. Dressing you in his homemade wedding dress that clung to your shaking wet skin with the homemade veil that he stuck to your head.

Eddie pushed away the rotting corpse of an unworthy bride, multicolored strips of fabric were scattered down the aisle and decorated ends of the rows of chairs. His hands adjusted the bow tie. He waited and waited to see you walk down the aisle, holding the bouquet of fabric flowers. You were taking a bit longer than he expected.

“Darling?” He asked.

His voice only echoed throughout the room, hearing himself from down the hallways. Stepping down the steps, his fingertips grazed the handle of his knife, eyes darted to the discarded bouquet of fabric flowers on the dirty hallway floor.

“Darling.” He picked up the discarded bouquet, looked around. “Where are you? Tell me that you’re alright.”

No response. Only the sound of his shoes crushing the shattered glass echoed throughout the ward. You were the same. All like the ungrateful brides that ever so desperately tried to flee from his loving grasp. He only wanted to love you, why couldn’t you do something so simple.

[amaramizuki666]

identity crisis part.3

   ‘tim’ felt safe, he felt warmth surrounding him. he didn't understand, was he dead, he doesn't feel dead. ‘tim’ opened his eyes to find himself in a fluffy bed.

He sat up swiftly in a panic, his hand flying to his shoulder. 'Tim' hissed under his breath as he felt his bandaged up shoulder.

"Good your up" a guy around 'Tim's' age spoke as he walked into the room. 'Tim' snapped his attention to the guy. His eyes glowed Lazarus green and what should have been the whites where black, his skin a pale green, his hair snow white and wispy.

He had long pointed ears and sharp fangs. He was wearing a sorta black jumpsuit with a white D on the chest. He also had a cape that looked to be made of stars.

Above his head was a crown made of aroura and a ring of light on his middle finger. 'Tim' couldnt help but stare, the man before him was incredibly handsome. "Um where am I? Did I die? Who are you?" 'Tim' spoke. The man walked over to 'Tim's' bedside.

"Firstly your basically in the ghost equivalent of a hospital, two no your not dead, and three my name is phantom, but you can call me Danny if you wish" the guy-Danny says with a gentle smile. 'Tim looked him in the eyes "if I'm not dead then why am I in a ghost hospital?".

Danny let out an amused hum "well before I answer that can you tell me what you remeber?".

'Tim' tore his gaze away from Danny's, he is unsure if it's safe to say anything about himself or what happened.

Danny saw 'Tim's rejection to the question and sighed. "how about I tell you what I know" Danny says and sits on the bed.

'Tim's eyes drifted back to danny. "I found you in green glowing goo, with a bullet hole in your shoulder and a stab wound in your gut" danny says and 'tim' felt is body go rigid in realization.

'Tim' pushed himself slightly away from danny "how did you get my body from the Lazarus pits? I know I should have sunk to the bottom". Danny snorted "you summoned me that's how".

'Tim' tilted his head and arched his eyebrow "summoned? What do you mean? Whst are you?". 'Tim' couldnt help being inquisitive, he may not be the Tim but he still had his originals memories.

Danny smirked at 'Tim' flashing his fangs. The man grabbed 'Tim's' hand and brought it to his lips, laying a gentle kiss on his knuckles.

Danny's lips where cold, but not in an uncomfortable way, but in s way that felt pleasing. "Well my dear, let me properly introduce myself. I am danny phantom king of the infinity realms, the balance between life and death, and holder of the stars. And you summoned me with the offering of the blood of a hero and made a deal with me to save your life" danny says.

"Deal" 'tim' inquired. Danny smirked and leaned in close to 'tim' "yes in exchange for saveing your life you would be mine". 'Tim' leaned closer to danny till their noses touched "in what way am I yours".

Danny pulled back and tilted his head, far more than any human could. And smirked at tim flashing his fangs " in what ways do you want to be mine". 'Tim' laughed awkwardly and joked "when's the wedding". "In 3 days" Danny answered without hesitation.

'Tim' sputtered " I WAS JOKEING!!!" "I wasnt" Danny laughed. "Anyway love I never did get your name" Danny says proping himself on his elbow.

'Tim' wasnt sure how to answer. He wasnt Tim, it didnt feel right using his name. "Uh Drake" 'tim' stuttered.

Wait no, that's so stupid why would he say drake! But then again 'Tim's' original did go by 'the drake' at one point sooo mabey they both arnt very smart.

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

Also feel free to add on your own stuff too, I love seeing people's stuff.

Part 2

[eyesthecolorofarson]

Two Weirdos Pt.2

A small scenario for these two lovebirds🖤💚🤍

————

He was watching him again

It was comforting, in a way, knowing he was never alone. Always having someone by his side. It was nice.

He felt him move closer. He wondered if he liked drawing. Would he like what he was drawing right now?

Damian didn’t stop drawing, the pencil scraping against paper the only sound. Well, now that he listened, he could actually hear him softly singing. It was cute. He had a lovely voice.

'☾@η∂¥ ḉꪮʟꪮяε∂ ḉʟꪮʊ∂ş, ʟḯḟ⊥ ღε ḟяꪮღ ⊥нε ɠяꪮʊη∂

∀η∂ ḉ@яя¥ ღε @ẘ@¥~'

He was right behind him, looking over his shoulder

'Ħḯɠн ʊ℘ ḯη ⊥нε şḱ¥,

Ꮥḯ⊥ş @ ��ḯηɠ∂ꪮღ ⊥н@⊥ ℐ

Ħ@ṽε яʊʟε∂ ꪮṽεя ḟꪮя ∂εḉ@∂εş'

Arms wrapped around him, his head resting on his shoulder

'฿ʊ⊥ яεḉεη⊥ʟ¥ ḯ'ṽε♭εεη

Ꮥꪮ

Ḻꪮηʟε¥'

Damian leaned back into him and listened

'ℐ ηεε∂ şꪮღεꪮηε ⊥ꪮ

ℝʊʟε

฿εşḯ∂ε ღε

Шḯʟʟ ¥ꪮʊ ♭ε ღ¥ ḱḯηɠ?

Ꭷя ⓠʊεεη

ℐ⊥ ∂ꪮşεη⊥ яε@ʟʟ¥ ღ@⊥⊥εя ⊥ꪮ ღε

∀ş ʟꪮηɠ @ş ¥ꪮʊ şẘε@я

✞н@⊥ ¥ꪮʊ'ʟʟ @ʟẘ@¥ş

Ꮥ⊥@¥♭εşḯ∂ε ღε

@η∂ ʟꪮṽε ღε ʟḯḱε ℐ ʟꪮṽε ¥ꪮʊ~'

Oh, how wonderful. It was obviously a proposal, he was obviously asking for his hand in marriage. And how could he refuse?

'ℐη ꪮʊя ḉ@η∂¥ ḉꪮʟꪮяε∂ ḉ@ş⊥ʟε

ℐ⊥'ʟʟ ḟεεʟ ʟḯḱε @ ∂яε@ღ

Ꮥḯ⊥⊥ḯηɠ ♭εşḯ∂ε ღε

@ş ʟꪮηɠ @ş ¥ꪮʊ şẘε@я

✞н@⊥ ¥ꪮʊ'ʟʟ @ʟẘ@¥ş

Ḻꪮṽε ღε ʟḯḱε ℐ ʟꪮṽε ¥ꪮʊ~'

Damian had to see him. He had to. He'd waited so, so long, dreaming day and night about his beloved. And now with this proposal he felt it was finally time. He turned his head—

And oh

He was breathtaking

Whispy white hair that danced as if underwater, light mint skin with slightly pointed ears and green dying stars for eyes, he was everything Damian ever wanted and more. Even his freckels were perfect, taking the shape of constellations.

He had to have him. He had to have him Now

Damian reached for him—

And flipped him over onto his lap.

He made as small 'eep' sound that made Damians chuckle. "Don't be embarrassed, my love. I should be, after that wonderful song. Did you write it yourself? You very talented."

His future husband blushed a beautiful dark green that made his freckles stand out, and then he smiled so wide Damian worried it hurt. It also showed him his fangs, which immediately gave him a new petname.

"You liked it!?" he asked, leaning up and wrapping his arms around him. Damian smiled and kissed his head which was so amazing and he NEEDED to do it again and again and again until he kissed every part of him

"I loved it. You want to be wed, yes?" Oh, he looked so happy. It was so cute, so lovely, so perfect.

He giggled and swooned, kissing his cheek and giggling again as he snuggled into him. Snuggling! Into him! Damian could die right now and he wouldn't care. He buried his face into his hair. He smelled like citrus and ozone.

"Oh yes! I've dreamed about it since I met you. Who do you want as your best man? What type of flowers do you like? A season you prefer? A place? Religion?"

He chuckled again. "Slowly, kitten." Damian liked that petname. It appeared his beloved did too. "I didnt plan our first date just for us to jump to the wedding. I dont even know your name."

His beloved smiled dreamily.

"My name is Danny. Danny Phantom."

[jessamine-rose]

✿⚘❁⚘❀ Astilbe ❀⚘❁⚘✿

Fufufu after all these months, here’s another Herbarium epilogue with more dark fluff and comfort. It was nostalgic to write for Capitano and his darling again (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

Tw:: YANDERE, unhealthy relationships, psychological trauma, Stockholm Syndrome

♡ 1.2k words under the cut ♡

The astilbe’s beauty has faded.

The pressed flowers are only a phantom of the radiant clusters you picked weeks ago. The petals have lost their brilliance. The feathery plumes have been reduced to flat shapes.

This is a natural consequence of preservation, one which occurs to all of your flowers. So why do you feel particularly mournful for the astilbe?

Maybe the flowers aren’t the problem. Rather, it’s you.

Your wedding ring twinkles on your index finger, an unavoidable sight. The sculpted flowers serve as a constant reminder of your marital status, disregarding the fact that you and your captor never had an official ceremony.

Capitano…what time will he be home? You usually accompany him to Zapolyarny Palace but he decided against it today. Important business, he claimed.

Nonetheless, he treated you so kindly before his departure. He’d given your new guard a stern warning which, even in his formal tone, sounded more like a death threat. You received a soft kiss, some new books, a promise of his immediate return.

Your life has never been happier. So why are you still plagued with your bad days?

You are used to this feeling, the ever-present melancholy which has haunted you even before you met Capitano—those hours spent trapping flowers in your notebook, escaping reality through storybooks, reliving memories better left forgotten. Perhaps it is your subconscious upset with you, the double curse of your self-awareness and resignation.

How can you believe in his love, knowing it is a twisted delusion?

Despite this, you’ve never smiled more since the day you accepted your fate.

Since meeting Capitano, you even remembered how to cry. Compared to your past tears and “tantrums,” the action feels oddly cathartic nowadays. Like a call for help finally answered by your own devoted knight.

The sound of heavy footsteps interrupts your thoughts.

Your husband is home.

The door opens. Capitano enters the room.

“______, is everything well?”

“Capitano.” You leave your desk and meet him halfway. “Did you mi—how was work? You arrived earlier than usual.”

He feels warm. You lean into his embrace, letting him be the first to pull away. His hands remain on your waist.

“The new recruits show potential.” He looks down at you, face hidden by his mask. After a short pause, he adds, “Did you take kindly to Sergeant Naiad?”

“Cyane was all right,” you reply, shrugging. “They just kept quiet and watched me from a distance. They are nothing like Ceres, if that is what you’re asking.”

The change in his tone isn’t lost on you. “That is acceptable. Should they infringe on your personal boundaries, inform me at once.”

Is that even necessary? He already has his spies to monitor your behavior.

Your notebook is still open to the astilbe. Capitano walks over to your desk, keeping one hand on the small of your back.

“I presume that your astilbe has been fully preserved.” He taps the corner of the page, careful not to touch the pink and white flowers.

You make no motion to retrieve it. “Yes. They’re…not as pretty as when I first saw them. Or maybe that’s just my perception.”

He turns to face you. “If you desire more astilbe, we may revisit the botanical garden.”

“No, it’s fine.”

Shouldn’t this be enough? What more must he do for you?

“Which flowers do you want?” You return to your chair, feeling a familiar stab of guilt. “I’ll let you pick first this time.”

“My darling, what troubles you?”

Huh?

Capitano caresses your cheek this time.

“You are in low spirits,” he observes. Anger creeps into his tone, faint yet palpable. “Did you tell me the truth about Sergeant Naiad?”

You quickly nod. “I was! I just feel…it’s nothing, really! Nothing worth your trouble.”

He remains adamant. “I would be an inattentive husband if I fail to care for my wife.”

What kind of expression is on his face? Even with his face concealed, you don’t want to look at him. Anything to prevent him from perceiving your distress.

From your peripheral vision, an image catches your attention—a framed drawing on your desk, illustrated by the same artist who painted the family portrait in your living room.

-

“Such an odd couple,” they muttered.

You had to agree with them. With his mask and fine armor, Capitano was an intimidating subject. You, on the other hand, looked small and delicate in your lacy gown. But your close physical contact left no doubt that the two of you belonged to the same picture.

The artist spent more time on you. They took a while to capture your face, describing your gaze as a dim mystery. You didn’t mind; it meant more time in your husband’s arms.

During a short break, you faced Capitano to chat with him. That was when the artist froze, staring at you with renewed interest. A silent look from the former, however, was all it took for them to fearfully return to their canvas.

The finished portrait came with a small pencil sketch. You were looking at Capitano with bright eyes and a fond smile, unrecognizable even to yourself.

-

“______?” He holds your hand. His own ring twinkles above your interlocked fingers.

“I…It’s not important,” you insist. Despite yourself, you feel your heart racing for reasons not borne from fear. “I’ve dealt with this before. The issue will go away on its own.”

Foolish girl. Since when was your captor one to leave you alone?

Ever the patient man, Capitano kneels down to meet your gaze.

“One word from you, and I will do everything in my power to alleviate your sorrows,” he tells you. The soft declaration is juxtaposed by his firm grasp on your hand. “How could I be at peace when my beloved flower is in pain?”

Words fail you. You stare at your lap, gripping the armrest with your free hand. It is his next words, spoken with quiet resolution, which spell your defeat.

“But if you refuse to smile, that is also acceptable. I will stay by your side regardless.”

You give up.

At first, Capitano tenses when you throw your arms around him. The hesitation which follows—the way he carefully reciprocates your hug, measuring his strength…it only tugs at your heartstrings all the more.

“Thank you,” you whisper. Your eyes feel damp; are you crying? Your tears don’t match your mood at all.

What is there to worry about? Time and time again, your husband has proven his unwavering devotion to you.

Why should you torture yourself with the truth of your marriage? Freedom is nothing compared to this false happily ever after.

Who cares about the astilbe? You already have the most beautiful, eternal flowers wrapped around your finger.

Capitano’s heartbeat is comforting. He traps you in his embrace, rubbing circles on your back. You don’t need to see past his mask to know what tender emotions lie in his gaze.

“You’re welcome,” he says. He lifts your wrist to his mask, imparting a soft kiss on the back of your hand.

A small smile tugs at your lips. “I feel a bit better thanks to you.”

♡

Side Story ๑ Epilogue ๑ Another Comfort Fic

A few months ago, I started this fic cuz I was sad. And now that I’m less sad, I decided to finish it and cry over Capitano again. Aahh he and Damsel always put me in a soft mood TvT

Once again, thank you to @diodellet for your support as my bestie and peer reviewer. Last year, she actually wrote her own Herbarium-inspired comfort fic which I beta-read and linked above. Her smut is amazing and well-written, so pls check it out <3

Do share your thoughts on this fic!! And if you read the teaser for Astilbe, look at me in the eye and tell me that the Captain isn’t the best at comforting his darling ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

Tag a Capitano enjoyer!! @bye-bye-sunbird @yandere-romanticaa @nicebonescomrades @harmonysanreads @ansy-tea @leftdestiny-posts @thescribeoflostmemories @kocherry @gum-iie @oofasleep @shumidehiro @ryo-ri @dulcetthorns @lambdrop @uhhhh-hi-im-sorry-for-this @the-dreaming-city @lyra-mew @yanmaresu @frogchiro @lcveaesop @micchikari

[alexlwrites]

From my notes app: grieving over your ex lover

Tw: sad as fuck

Based on this request from @morningglory18 : "Hey I just want to request you a fic where the fl had a dead first love , whom she always chases after but it is always Namjoon who catches her when he realised she is really gonna fly away"

***

It was April 29th again.

How long had it been since the last one? A couple weeks? 365 days? A lifetime? You weren't sure, but the earth had once more completed a circle without you even assimilating the last one.

Your body still ached from phantom pains - a non-existent weight in your left ring finger, the impact of a car crash you never lived, shards of a still broken heart and loss, dear lord, so much loss. How could someone even lose something that they already no longer have?

But every April 29th reopened a wound barely stitched together and you felt the burden of another year lost, a multitude of days that could've been lived as someone's wife but instead barely could be called a widow - after all, there was no wedding. There was only a white dress, a pair of rings and a call from the hospital that sent you into a spiral of unfortunate events and ripped your soul from your body.

Every April 29th brought a slew of what-ifs and if-onlys that buried you under the avalanche of painful possibilities. If that driver had never been drinking, if he had left earlier, if the wedding had been scheduled to the next saturday... Every minimal detail added to insurmountable strands - different paths and roads that could've been taken in a different life.

In a different life, you could've been Yoongi's wife.

In a different life, you could've kissed him on an altar and went on to start a new chapter written together. You could've watched him put together your shared furniture, made him coffee and kissed his pink tinted knucles. In a different world, you could've built a family together, slanted eyed babied and fluffy brown dogs, maybe even a black cat. In another universe, you would've watched someone's first steps guided by his long fingers wrapped around a tiny chubby wrist. In a separate world...

"Love" someone called snapping you out of your morbid fantasies and you turned to see Namjoon offering his hand.

You took it and stood up from the ground, interlacing your fingers with his and bringing them to your lips as you walked away from the forget-me-not adorned grave, silent and contemplative. In another life, things could've been different, but in this one you were given catastrophic grief by fate and its antidote by the same hand. The same prophecy that had taken away Yoongi from your sobbing grip had gifted you Namjoon.

Namjoon who also lost his best friend and had been the first one to reach for you as crumbled to the floor in a white gown; who had been forever patient and understanding, a buoy in the storm as disgrace had rained from the skies ; who stood back to back with you as you leaned on each other to stand up once more ; Namjoon who bought the forget-me-nots and took you where you needed every April 29th.

"I miss him" you said.

Namjoon nodded "Me too. Everyday."

Namjoon helped you into the car and drove away softly, his hand never leaving yours, tethering you to this lifetime where you were now his, six years after being someone else's.

***

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[yuurei20]

Ace Info Compilation part 14: Phantom Bride(pt2)

After the rescue from Eliza Ortho encourages Idia to thank Ace and the others for their efforts, but Ace is less than pleased with Idia’s reaction of, “Would’ve been nice if they hadn’t cut it so close.”

Idia resorts to self-degradation and Ace shifts gears to complimenting him, leading Riddle to respond, “What’s your angle?” Ace explains “I’m just stating the facts. Doesn’t Idia look cool today?…Also, the whole day culminated in him getting dumped at the alter. Who wouldn’t feel sorry for the guy?”

After receiving a wealth of compliments Idia’s mood improves to the point that he agrees, “People did call me a ‘promising prodigy’ when I was a kid. And I’ve only gotten better, so I guess it’s no surprise.”

Ace observes, “Well, you really are cool, Idia. So long as your mouth is shut.”

In the wake of the wedding the first year students are left behind to clean up the dining hall and Epel asks Ace if he has ever had feelings for anyone. (Ace responds, “What, you think I’m some kind of flirt?”)

Ace explains that he had a girlfriend in middle school and they’d go out to movies and the amusement park together, but she wouldn’t ride the rides he liked or watch the movies that he wanted to see and hanging out with her “was just plain boring,” so he ghosted her.

Ace says the worst part was “One day, a bunch of girls called me completely out of the blue. I didn’t even know who they were…they gave me the third degree! What’s up with THAT? That’s when I learned a valuable lesson: romance is way more trouble than it’s worth! It’s way more fun just chillin’ with my buds.”

(Grim follows with, “I just learned a valuable lesson too: you’re a big baby.”)

Ortho thanks Ace for saving Idia and Ace insists that he “wasn’t exactly invested. I was more caught up in the moment after escaping all those ghosts.”

Grim agrees with Ace, saying, “There ain’t no way Ace is some shining white knight at heart,” but Ortho says that “every possible data metric points to Ace having been sincere.”

Ace insists “I don’t got a romantic bone in my body! That was pure improv! I just said whatever I thought the ghost lady would buy,” but Ortho assures him that “You’d unquestionably win anyone’s heart!”

Epel says he wishes that he could have been there for Ace’s monologue and Ortho offers to send him a full recording.

Deuce says that they all should watch it together despite Ace’s protests: “None of that was the slightest bit sincere. Honest! Why’s everyone gotta mess with me like this! Seriously, can’t we just move on already?”

Rook has a voice line about Ace being “a passionate soul” who wishes that Rook wouldn’t praise him.

Phantom Bride is not Ace’s only dramatic line reading: during Spectral Soiree he stands up against a presumably possessed Malleus and declares that “The Hallowenders aren’t gonna lose…PERIOD!”, which he is later mocked for by Floyd and Leona.

[cho-aaacho]

(Flufftober 2023) Gift Giving

Main Masterlist I Archive of Our Own

Flufftober 2023 Masterlist I Prompts List

Tags : Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Domestic Fluff, Gift Giving, Wedding Anniversary, Flufftober 2023, Reader is genderless

(Flufftober Day 10)

Slowly, a gentle snowflake falls from the icy sky and renders a soft tint around your presence. As your gaze lifted to the wintry sky, you plunged headlong into the cloudy, white-kissed abyss, feeling the snowflakes tickling upon the tip of your nose.

Following your presence, Carlos draws closer, a rising tide of warmth starting to flood your senses. He met your gaze, gingerly slipped off to your lips, and touched them with his thumb, a gentle smile gracing his lips. In a voice as soothing as a lullaby, he said, "We should go inside; it's so freezing here, dear."

A mischievous glint danced in your eyes, and you responded with a playful pout. "I don't know that my Soldier Boy is so sensitive to the cold."

Summoning his strength, Carlos flickered his tongue, and he snugly adjusted your red scarf. His dark obsidian orbs glisten, fixating on you sharply, trying to pull your soul into his embrace and swimming in his beautiful eyes. "I may be a soldier, but I'm not the Winter Soldier," he said, once again retracing your eyes.

With a playful wink, he lightened the mood, adding, "Also, my dear, you're not a Yeti. Though if you were, I'm sure you would be fine standing on snowy days like this, but not this long, am I correct?"

"Uh... with so many mystical creatures, why did you choose to compare me to a Yeti?"

As you follow Carlos' shadow, both of you tread a path toward the cabin, where you and he are staying for a wedding anniversary. Though he's so bad at selecting a romantic destination to date. You're quite smitten with this hidden gem.

"Whoa, that's quite freezing. I have no idea about your ability to stay on a snowy day like that," he mused, tracing the contours of your gaze with his own.

With a playful voice, he lightened the mood, adding, "So what's on your mind, sweetheart? I remember you mentioning something, but Nikolai interrupted us. That stupid silver phantom is quite annoying, isn't he?"

You pinched his cheeks, pretending to be angry. "Hey, don't talk bad about your coworkers; Mr. Zinoviev is a good man."

Your laughter cascades into the air, alluring the whole room with a romantic aura. With a graceful dance, you glided to the corner of the room and reached the drawer. Your fingertips are sliding along the contour of a cardboard box, trying to feel the shape of it. The box was wrapped in hues of blue and yellow.

"This is for you, Carlos."

"Eh? You don't have to give me a gift!" he added playfully, mimicking a crying voice. "And now I want to cry, huhuhu."

"Hey! Stop that!"

As his fingertips glided through the box, a delightful smile curled on his lips. His eyes were glimmering, almost like the first stars you saw in the clear night sky.

He gingerly cradled the box in his hands, trying not to ruin the shape of the box. Because, for God's sake, he cherished every detail of you. He is always thinking that you are a good omen from his darkest past. He appreciates everything you give him; he doesn't even regret loving you.

"Oh..."

With a sigh of wonder, he let his shoulder sag, feeling overwhelmed with what he had just seen. His mind, trying to piece together the whole memory with you, the clouds above his head, has turned into a beautiful rainbow.

His glassy eyes, brimming with emotion, gazed at you in disbelief, tears flowing down his cheeks. The tenderness was real. Following his gesture, a soft kiss met your lips, followed by another one. Kiss again. Another and another.

In a trembling voice, he spoke. "Thank you... you've always been so nice to me. Even when we are strangers, your warmth always warms me."

"You like it, Carlos?"

"Of course I do. I hope I can carry this like a treasure to heaven."

The gift is a photograph of a moment between him and you. Captured beneath the beautiful cherry blossoms. He lost the photograph in the Racoon City Incident. But that photograph, by some magical force, reappeared before him. Giving him a romantic bond that ties you and him.

[violetlunette]

Horrortober Day 31: “I can make you feel better.”

(Inspired by the ride Phantom Manor)

“You look wonderful, Silver,” Lilia complimented as he helped his son dress for his wedding. “You look like a Prince out of a fairy tale! Are you sure I can’t get you to ride the white stead down the aisle?” Silver felt his face warm at his father’s praise, his heart aflutter at the excitement for this day.

He couldn’t believe this day had finally come. There had been struggles along the way, especially last week when his fiance told him of a job opportunity that would require them to leave Briar Valley. Silver, however, didn’t want to leave his family, so they came to a compromise where they could have both.

“Thank you, father. I hope you’re right; I want to look my best today,” Silver replied, nervously playing with his sleeve. Lilia tutted at his words.

“Do you doubt my judgment?” he said in a mock pout. Then his expression softened. “I can’t believe my little boy is getting married today. It seems like just yesterday you were trick or treating in the woods near our cottage, practicing swordplay… now look at you. All grown up.” His voice started wistful but cracked near the end. Silver instinctively reached out but Lilia stopped him.

“No, no. I’m fine, really,” he assured the other. He wiped a stray tear from his eye before beaming. “I’m proud of you, Silver. You’ve grown to be a fine young man, and I can’t wait to see how your future unfolds.” Silver nodded as butterflies fluttered around his stomach.

“Same here,” he murmured. At this point, there was a knock at the door. “Ah! Come in…” Silver’s voice trailed off when he saw who entered. “Lord Malleus…”

A tall, pale man with eyes of green flame and hair of midnight stepped into the room, ducking so his horns didn’t scratch the door frame. In his hand, he held a tall green bottle of wine.

Lord Malleus was the Lord of Phantom Manor and had been like a brother to Silver all his life. As such, they were quite close. However, there was tension as of late. 

When Silver told Malleus that he was getting married, the latter had been furious and even tried to forbid it. It took Silver’s desperate pleas and Lilia's stern scolding to get the other to calm down. Malleus apologized and even offered the mansion as a venue. For a while, it seemed things were fine between the two. However, this past week Malleus had been distant and closed off.

Silver shifted on his feet, like a small child, as his eyes darted away. Had Malleus come to try and talk him out of the wedding again? Or something else? 

Lilia seemed just as suspicious as his eyes narrowed at the other.

“Malleus…” he said in a low tone as he stepped between the two, warning the other not to start anything. Malleus may have been the Lord of the manor, but Lilia had a great deal of influence as well, having served his family for three generations now and being the power behind the family. Malleus held up a hand.

“I’ve only come to see if Silver needs anything,” he explained calmly. “And to speak with him alone.” Lilia folded his arms.

“Haven’t you had enough ‘talks’ alone?” he scoffed, recalling the many fights and arguments that had occurred, one that nearly got Silver tossed down the stairs.

Malleus glanced away in shame, lips pressed under a frown at the accusation. Silver’s heart went out to the man. Silver knew Malleus wasn’t a violent person, but ever since they opened that gold mine on Dwarf Hills, he had been acting—odd, and far more aggressive. There were even rumors that Malleus had been possessed by an evil spirit. Even Sebek, who was the most loyal supporter of the Lord could not justify or defend all his actions as of late.

Even so, Malleus was still someone very dear to Silver, and he wouldn’t turn him away for any reason.

“It’s okay Father, I don’t mind,” Silver said to Lilia. Seeing Lilia look unsure, he repeated himself, “It’s okay.” Despite how Malleus had been acting, Silver knew him, and he knew that the Lord would never do him any serious harm. The incident on the stairs had been an accident, he was sure of it and had told Lilia just as much. Lilia pressed his lips and then sighed.

“Oh, alright! But hurry; there’s not a lot of time before the wedding starts!” he said, smoothing his green suit out. He then floated up to kiss Silver’s forehead. “I’ll see you later to walk you down the aisle, dear.” Then, after shooting Malleus a look of warning, the fae left.

The silence that soon fell after his departure was thick. Neither were men of words, so neither knew what to say. Finally, Malleus spoke;

“You look beautiful, Silver,” the Lord said softly. Green eyes were glazed over with several emotions as he looked the silver youth over.

Silver forced a smile, his pleasure at the words drowned by a sense of dread that something bad may happen. He pushed the feeling aside. “Thank you.” Malleus stepped forward, and Silver held his breath as the other reached out a hand. Gloved fingers brushed against his temple as Malleus pushed a lock of hair behind his ear.

“Are you anxious?” he asked in monotone. Silver nodded, swallowing a gulp as his senses screamed at him.

“A little,” he admitted, telling himself that the emotions he was feeling were wedding jitters and had nothing to do with his Lord. “It is my wedding day, after all. My whole life’s gonna change after this.” At the reminder Mallus’ face became as hard as stone, his body just as tense.

“Yes. You’re right,” he said, voice tight. Then his voice shifted, becoming distant. “After today, everything will change.” Silver stiffened at his words, which sounded more like a threat than a thought said aloud.

“Lord Malleus?” But before he could question the man, Malleus turned away.

“I can make you feel better.” As he said this, he held up the bottle he brought in his hand. Malleus didn’t drink, nor did anyone else who lived in the manor, but Malleus kept some liquor for guests and parties.

“I...I don’t think I should,” Silver said, feeling uneasy, his palm sweaty. “The wedding will start soon…”

“One glass won’t hurt. In fact, it’ll help calm your nerves,” Malleus insisted. “Besides, this is a way for me to apologize… for everything.” His eyes drifted to the side at this, and his grip tightened on the bottle. Seeing his anguished features, Silver ignored the warning bells in his head and nodded stiffly.

“Alright,” he agreed. “One glass should be fine.” Malleus hummed.

“One sip will be all it takes.” The Lord poured two glasses of wine, which reminded Silver of freshly spilled blood, a sight he witnessed as a child due to a mistake during sword training. Malleus had bandaged him that day. Despite the rough time they’ve had since Malleus started working in the mine, Malleus had looked after Silver his whole life. He would never do him harm.

Silver took the offered cup, and Malleus held his own above his head.

“To your—new life,” he toasted. Silver nodded and thanked him before gulping the cup, his nerves getting the best of him.

At first, he felt fine. Though the taste was off and tasted of iron and something else--

Silver stumbled into the tray beside him, spilling the contents. His world became hazy as he tried to steady himself. His breathing became hard as his throat tightened like something was strangling him.

‘What in the world…?’ “Malleus…?” Silver’s legs gave out and he fell forward. Two strong arms caught him before encircling him in a tight grip.

“I’m sorry,” Malleus' voice said softly into his ear as he stroked the moonlight hair. “But I won’t let you leave me. Not now, not ever.” Silver’s head fell against Malleus' chest.

“Malleus...” Darkness overtook Silver. 

The last sound he heard was Malleus’ heartbeat.

[draguta]

.a court of fate and fortune | three.

pairing: lucien vanserra x fem!reader

summary: | book two | lovers separated, powers that won't be controlled, a doomed wedding. with the threat of war looming over prythian, lucien, Y/N, tamlin, and rhysand's inner circle must scramble to find allies and prepare themselves for what is to come. but Y/N only has one aim; to find her way back to lucien, and protect him at all costs.

chapter warnings: n/a

chapter word count: 4369

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Ianthe

“Will it change?” Lucien finally said. He and Tamlin had been sat in the dining room for what seemed like hours in complete silence. Feyre had retired to bed long ago, but the two males had continued to nurse their wine, just as they once had done every single evening, until Feyre’s appearance in the Spring Court. The moment that Feyre had killed Andras everything had changed, some good and some bad, but all of it different nonetheless. How long ago that seemed now. The days when Tamlin and Lucien had been so close, and Lucien would have done anything for his High Lord, the friend that had saved his hide when he had fled his home and been exiled from the Autumn Court.

Tamlin looked to Lucien, raising an eyebrow in a silent command to explain. Lucien pursed his lips, and took a large swig of his wine; liquid courage.

“When you and Feyre are married, will it change?” He asked again slowly, refusing to look Tamlin in the eye, focusing on the wine that sloshed around in his glass as he turned it in his hand. “Or will she remain a prisoner in her own home?”

Lucien didn’t need to look at Tamlin to know the expression that he would be wearing - he knew Tamlin too well. His brow would be furrowed in annoyance, lips a thin line, white as he pressed them together between his teeth. His eyes would be flashing, and Lucien wouldn’t be surprised if those claws made yet another appearance.

He had seen them too many times over the past few months for his liking.

“What exactly are you asking me, Lucien?” Tamlin asked, voice tight and stern. Lucien sighed, finally looking up at his friend; the picture in front of him was the exact one that he had painted in his mind, right down to the little tick of his brow.

“I just think that Feyre deserves some…freedom,” he said quietly. “After everything she’s-”

“After everything she’s been through, she deserves safety,” Tamlin snapped. “She deserves to feel as if she doesn’t have to keep looking over her shoulder. We all do.”

“I was going to say after everything she’s done for us,” Lucien corrected, planting his glass firmly on the tabletop. “Do you not think that, perhaps, it might be worth actually listening to her?”

“She has only lived in Prythian for a short while,” Tamlin said dismissively. “She doesn’t know the dangers that these lands hold, especially now - I do.”

Lucien sighed again, fighting the urge to throw his head back in frustration; there was no talking to him these days. “I know that it’s dangerous, but she is more than capable of looking after herself, and if not her, then Silas could accompany her,” Lucien suggested. “Just, let her out for a ride or something every now and then. I’ll even go along with her myself-”

“I need you with me,” Tamlin said curtly. “And Silas has his own duties to attend to. She can remain here, where she is safe. And she can paint, and just be happy.”

“You really can’t see that she’s not happy?” Lucien countered, his voice raising slightly. “Tam, she hasn’t painted in months. I can hear her vomiting every night even from my room. Feyre has been through a lot.”

“We’ve all been through a lot,” Tamlin countered. “Or did you forget that I was Under the Mountain too?”

Lucien rolled his shoulder, the ghosts of the scars that had once been there echoing with a phantom pain, a reminder of twenty lashes against raw skin, struck by his very own High Lord - his friend. “I know that,” Lucien said quietly. “We all have demons to fight, but Feyre more than any of us, and now with Y/N gone, it’s just getting worse.”

“Y/N being gone is exactly why I’m keeping Feyre here,” Tamlin snarled, as if the mention of his sister had unleashed that anger within him. “She was taken from my very home, and now she is gone and I can’t get to her, can’t protect her. Not even from herself.”

Lucien rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. “You’re doing everything you can to find her-”

“And yet it’s not enough, because she’s still not here,” Tamlin snapped. “So, if I can keep Feyre here, where I know she will be safe, where I know that he can’t get to her, not when I’m here protecting her, then that is what I will do.”

“So, you intend to keep her locked away just like you did Y/N?” Lucien bit back, his grip around his glass tightening to the point of snow-white knuckles. “Should I expect to see a collar on her soon enough too? Or will simply throwing a box of paint into the room and locking the door be enough to keep her trapped?”

Tamlin’s nostrils flared with anger. “I did what was best for Y/N, you know that.”

“No,” Lucien growled. “You did what you thought was best for her, and now she’s gone. If you had just thought to consult with me, or quite literally anyone else in this damn court, then we would have all told you it was a ridiculous notion. Perhaps this time you might have learnt your lesson and will actually heed my warning about Feyre-”

Tamlin shot from his chair so fast that it knocked over his glass, red wine staining the white tablecloth in a pool that reminded him of his own blood that had seeped onto the stones when his eye had been stolen from him… He grimaced. Tamlin leaned forward on his fists, hints of claw piercing through the soft skin of his knuckles. Lucien had never seen the glare that Tamlin wore in that moment before, and the way that it made his blood run cold told him that he never wanted to be on the receiving end of it ever again.

“You do not tell me how to protect my own betrothed,” he snarled viciously, and his voice sounded almost unfamiliar, nothing like the friend that Lucien had used to share wine with on an evening before. This was a male haunted, a male doing his best to keep himself tied together; Lucien could see that now. “Do not push me on this, Lucien.”

But Lucien didn’t falter, instead rising from his own seat slowly, swirling the wine in his glass one last time before throwing back the contents, and turning to stride toward the door. He didn’t even turn to Tamlin as he said, “I hope that you are able to realise that being protected does not always equate to a good life, old friend, sooner rather than later.” He paused at the open doorway, turning back to his High Lord, chin held high. “If not for Feyre’s sake, then for your own.”

A resounding growl was the only response Lucien received.

You stood under the water, letting it wash away the toils of your day, of your training. Cassian had pushed your body to the brink, and your limbs ached with every movement. Azriel and Rhys had pushed your mind to the brink, and the weariness in my head seemed to weigh you down heavily. The odd little waterfall that sat in the centre of your washroom was your favourite part of your room; water that flowed from a little clutter of rocks on the wall above your head and flowed down over your body before pooling at your feet in the little basin, disappearing down a plug on the floor. You had never seen anything like it before, and Rhys had been quick to proudly inform you that the water came from a mountain stream nearby, and that the very few of these contraptions in existence all sat within the House of Wind. You hadn’t cared that much about the mechanical workings of the waterfall, but had relished in the feeling of it, of how clean it made you feel, of how warm it made you.

You leant against the wall of that little waterfall; you could hear Mor chattering away in your bedroom, babbling about the clothes that filled your wardrobe, but you were hardly listening. You were too exhausted, even if you knew she meant well. You closed your eyes, and drew in a deep breath.

It was then that you felt it, the ache in your heart. You winced, placing a hand over the space where your heart was on your chest. But it wasn’t an ache at all, it was a tug, and it wasn’t against your heart…it was against that bond, the strings that tied you to your mate.

Your mating bond.

An overwhelming wave of frustration and anger seemed to wash over you in the same way that the water did, followed closely by another tug, and you realised that whatever this was that you were feeling…it was what Lucien was feeling in that very moment. You let out a small sob - you could feel him, could feel his emotions as if you were two pieces of a whole, as if you were one. But he didn’t know that. He couldn’t feel you on the end of those strings, you were certain of it. If he could, you were sure you would know. That tug wouldn’t feel so vacant.

Your heartbeat thundered in your chest, only…that wasn’t your heartbeat. Yours beat out of sync under your palm. Yet you could hear it, reverberating around you. A heartbeat that belonged to someone else, that belonged to Lucien. The sound grew and grew, like drums beating in time with the very ticks of time that culminated his life. There was something else there, something interlaced with each beat, with each pounding of your own heart; a voice. It was as if the words were coming from your very own mind, a voice echoed in your head, ringing in your ears, like they were being spoken right into your ear.

‘I hope that you are able to realise that being protected does not always equate to a good life.’

A strangled cry, unlike any sound you had ever let out before, etched its way up your throat. Your knees buckled, and it took everything in your to keep yourself standing, pressed against the slick wall of the waterfall. Because that voice, it wasn’t your voice. It was his. It was Lucien.

You could hear him, almost as if he was right there beside you. You could feel him, could sense him.

But that feeling was gone as fast as it had come, and you had lost him again.

Lucien very rarely wanted for anything. He’d always lived a life of luxury, even if it was one that he didn’t necessarily feel that he needed or wanted, or even deserved. But there had never been anything he wanted that he couldn’t have. Any female that he set his sights on would, at some point, end up in his bed. Even Jesminda, who had been so against him at first, he had managed to work his magic on, and she had fallen so incredulously for him. When she had been killed, he had been broken, had mourned her, but he had known that he’d found the love that he had wanted - that he had needed - in her arms.

But this - this never-ending ache for Y/N - that was the one thing that he had been denied. And he hated it. Hated that he would, out of instinct, wake each morning and roll over in search of her, as if she had been there all along, only to find an empty and cold mattress in her wake.

He seemed to forget, sometimes, that she wasn’t there anymore. He would wander into the library and look up to that desk by the window where she used to reside so often, expecting to see her sitting there hunched over a book. He would go to breakfast or dinner, and would go to fill a plate of food for her only to remember that she wasn’t there. He would find himself talking away, telling stories of his day, and would turn only to find the chair beside him empty.

So when he let himself into his room that night and saw the figure of a female sat at the end of his bed, face shrouded by the darkness of the evening, he couldn’t fault himself for thinking that it was her.

“Lucien,” the female crooned, and as soon as he heard his name on her tongue, he knew that it wasn’t Y/N. No, that voice belonged to someone else, someone more malicious and cruel than she was. His name sounded like a sneer from her lips, not the tender way that Y/N would say it. Not like the prayer to only him that she had whispered as he had been buried inside her.

“I don’t remember inviting you in here, Ianthe,” Lucien said firmly, moving to the table in the corner of his room and unbuckling his baldric and sword from his waist. “What are you doing here?”

Ianthe sprung to her feet, wandering into the moonlight, a flick of her wrist bringing a faelight to the chandelier from the ceiling, lighting the room properly. She smiled at him, one that he had no doubt would have brought any other male to their knees before her, but it wouldn’t work on Lucien. He thinned his lips, rolling his eyes as he turned to remove his waistcoat.

“I was feeling lonely, down there in the temple,” she said, her voice low and sultry. She stepped forward toward him, gently batting his hands away from the buttons of his waistcoat and beginning to unfasten them herself, her teal eyes never leaving his, kohl-coated lashes batting gently against her cheeks. “I thought I might come to find you, for some company.”

Lucien sighed, gripping her wrist and pulling them away from her. “I thought I had made myself perfectly clear,” he said, irritated. “I’m not interested.”

“That was years ago,” she giggled, turning away from him and seemingly floating across the room, her robes whispering against the wooden floor as she went. Lucien rid himself of his waistcoat and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up, crossing his arms over his chest impatiently. She paused at the fireplace, her fingers dancing along the wood of the mantlepiece as she glanced over her shoulder with a coy smile. “I think we’ve grown quite a bit since then. Surely you can see as well as I can how strong of a match we are.”

“We aren’t a match at all,” Lucien gritted out. She paused, and Lucien’s entire body stiffened when she picked up the crystal rock, turning it over in her hand; the crystal that Y/N had gifted him for Winter Solstice, that sat on his mantlepiece at all times as a reminder of who he was fighting for, who he would ultimately do anything to get back to. “You need to go.”

Ianthe pouted her plump lips, batting her long lashes once more as she turned; Lucien almost let out a breath of relief when she put the crystal back in the same place she had found it. She took a confident step forward until she was standing directly in front of him, and Lucien did nothing but look down at her with a look of distaste.

“Are you sure, Lucien?” She asked, voice low as her long fingers pulled at the string on the front of her blue robes, the entire cloak brushing against her arms as it fell to a pool around her feet on the floor. But even with her naked form before him, his eyes never left her face, never trailed down. He had seen true female beauty, and he knew that the snake in front of him could never come close to it, not even when she prettied herself up; he could still see the scales. “Feyre and Tamlin have found their matches. Surely, you want the same thing for yourself.”

She stepped closer once more, pressing her hands against his chest. “We could be great together, you know?” She said, so focused on her unsubtle attempts at seduction that she didn’t even notice Lucien reach behind him, toward the baldric that he had left on the desk. “A coupling that could conquer courts, you and I.”

The hilt of one of Lucien’s daggers found its way to his hand, and he gripped it tightly, his jaw ticking as he pulled it up, close to her face, not close enough that it might harm her, but enough that it made her eyes widen and her mouth part in shock as she took a step back.

“I’m not going to tell you again, Ianthe,” he said as firmly as he could, brow low. “Leave. Now.”

She seemed to stumble over herself as she grabbed her clothes from the floor and fled his room, and as soon as he heard the door click shut behind her he slumped against the edge of the table, dagger falling from his hand to hit with a soft thud against the carpet, that same hand coming to pinch at his brow.

“Forgive me, Y/N,” he whispered. Because he had thought that devil-female, that she-witch, had been her. Had been the female he loved. And Y/N was far from that. She was ethereal and beautiful and perfect. Y/N was his entire soul.

Dinners with the Inner Circle were…interesting. At first you had barely interacted with any of them, and they had seemed all too willing to let me sit in your self-proclaimed pity. But as the weeks drew on, and you found yourself drowning in your loneliness, they had seemed to glint that you needed their company, even if they didn’t need yours.

“How is your training coming along?” Mor asked, reaching over to take a spoonful of potatoes onto her plate. She looked at you from under thick lashes, her red lips beaming brightly. Those lips reminded you too much of someone you would rather forget; someone with red hair and a preference for jewellery made of the males who had wronged her.

“She’s doing well,” Rhys interjected before you had a chance to answer. “We’re definitely making some headway, I think.”

“Hopefully I’ll have it controlled at least soon,” you agreed, taking a sip of your wine and leaning back in your chair. “And then I can start learning how to use it to my benefit.”

“And she’s a deft hand with a sword,” Cassian cut in, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “She’d make a pretty good warrior, if it weren’t for the attitude.”

She glowered at him. “You would have an attitude too if a great brute of a male made you run one-hundred lengths of the rooftop,” you muttered under your breath. Mor giggled, and even Azriel let out a low chuckle.

“Sounds like you’re running her ragged, brother,” Rhys laughed, popping a torn-off piece of bread into his mouth. His violet eyes drifted to you with an amused smile. “I’m surprised you let him. The you I know isn’t the type to let a male make her do anything without a little arguing first.”

You both smirked in unison, likely thinking back to the many squabbles you’d had Under the Mountain. You wondered if he was reminiscing about the same one as you were, the numerous times he kept catching you lingering outside Lucien’s door.

“Well, you were the one who told me that she needs to be in top shape,” Cassian reminded the Night Court High Lord, raising an eyebrow toward him. “Or did you forget?”

You narrowed your eyes, turning to Rhysand expectantly to ask him why, exactly, that was the case, but when you saw the way the colour had paled from his face, you knew that something was bothering him. He clenched his fist - his right hand - where you knew Feyre wore a tattoo in the same place as a marker of their bargain together. And you knew in an instant that he was feeling whatever it was she was feeling in that moment. The same way you had felt Lucien.

Because she was his mate, or so Rhys had told you. They had been made for each other, in body and soul. Yet she was to wed another, your brother, and Rhysand would remain here longing for her for the rest of his days. The closest he could get to her, without invoking the bargain that he had made with her, was through those feelings that encompassed her, the ones that he would feel through that bond each time. Her anger, her sadness, the small droplets of happiness sprinkled in between.

Until that afternoon, you hadn’t felt that with Lucien. You had tried, on more than one occasion - had closed your eyes and searched for any glimmer of emotion that might have been coming from him, from your own mate. But there had never been anything there. She had assumed it was because the bond still hadn’t snapped into place for him, and you had been left without anything to remind yourself of him, or of the love that you shared.

But that had changed that evening. You had felt him, and whether it happened again or not, you would cherish that moment for the remainder of your immortal days.

Whatever the feeling was that had eloped Rhysand in such a statue-esque state seemed to fade, but that didn’t stop him from slamming his fist against the table. You and Mor both flinched as he inhaled, lividly, through his nose, and proceeded to storm from the dining room, running a hand through his hair in frustration, barely sparing any of the rest of us a glance.

You didn’t even think, pushing out of your own chair, ignoring the slight shake of his head that Azriel sent you, and followed after the High Lord. You caught up with him further down the hallway, reaching out to grasp him on the arm and bring him to a stop. He spun, eyes wide, but he calmed when he saw that it was you.

“She had another nightmare,” he said quietly, almost as if it were taking everything in him just to say the words. “She had another nightmare, and he’s doing nothing.”

Of course. Tamlin never did anything to help her when she woke from a nightmare. You remembered from the nights that she would sneak into your room looking for comfort. He had his own demons haunting his sleep.

“She’ll be okay, Rhys,” you soothed. “It’s only a nightmare. She’s not in any danger.”

“She deserves better than that,” he countered, turning away from you, staring at the wall ahead. He paused for a moment, just staring, thinking, shoulders shaking with shuddering breaths. “It’s the wedding tomorrow.”

Your eyes widened. Had it really come so quickly? Had you really been in the Night Court for that long? Away from Lucien for that long? “What will you do?” You asked. Rhys drew in another shaking breath.

“Nothing,” he said finally. “I will do nothing. This is what she wanted. This is what will make her happy - he makes her happy. I won’t stand in the way of that. I just…I just wish I could be there to see her face, to know that this is the right decision for her. To know that she needs him, not me.”

“So then go,” you said slowly.

“No,” he scoffed, shaking his head and stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Tamlin wouldn’t let me get two feet close to that wedding. I’d probably have to winnow right to the altar to get close enough to actually see her.”

“And let me guess,” you said quietly, all-knowingly. “If you did go, you may not be able to stop yourself from stopping the wedding.”

He looked at you then - really looked at you. He took in every feature on your face, every freckle and speck of colour in your eyes, and it was as if he were seeing you for the first time. He grinned lazily. “You know,” he said, back to the picture of coolness that you had always known him to be, “you’re a lot wiser than you look.”

“Is it wisdom? Or is it more likely all the wine you fed me at dinner?” You chuckled. Rhys smirked knowingly, shrugging his shoulders.

“What can I say?” He chuckled. “Wine is, from my experience, the best way to mend a broken heart. And it would seem we’re both in need of that.”

You winced. He stared.

And stared. And stared.

And then, he reached his arm out toward you. “Are you lonely?” He asked slowly, and when you did nothing but blink, he seemed to take that as a confirmation. “Perhaps we could make each other less lonely.” It was just the same as it had been the last time. Because you knew that he was lonely, and he knew that you were too. You knew that he was seeking a distraction from the fact that the female he loved - his mate - was to be married to another male the following morning.

But everything was different now. You weren’t just a fool in love, you weren’t reeling from an endless stream of rejections. You were mated, even if he didn’t know that, even if your own damn mate didn’t know that yet. And the thought of falling into bed with anyone else made your stomach churn with nausea.

“I can’t,” you said almost apologetically. “You know I can’t, and you know that it wouldn’t make you feel any better even if I could. But, if you’re looking for company, I could certainly do with another drink, and maybe a chat, if you’re up for that instead?”

Rhys peered at you for a moment in wonder; clearly he wasn’t used to being turned down. But eventually he nodded his agreement, and you looped your arm through his, and allowed him to escort her back toward the sitting room as friends.

Taglist

Complete: | @loveshineslikethesky | @elleclairez | @lostpirateinwonderland | @judig92 | @old-enough-to-know-better73 | @atrashsith |

Lucien Vanserra: | @luna-foxglove | @lumos-barnes |

[blackswaneuroparedux]

In the name of Bacon will you chicken me up that egg. Shall I swallow cave-phantoms?

- Samuel Beckett, Collected Poems in English and French

I went to a restaurant once that said it served "breakfast at any time" so I ordered French toast during the Renaissance. My waiter got the joke.

What isn’t a joke is the traditional English breakfast as a national institution. Most of us love a full English breakfast; you can even travel abroad, to the Mediterranean resorts in Spain for example, and find this quintessentially British dish on sale in cafes and restaurants.

Sometimes also called a ‘fry-up’, the full English breakfast consists of fried eggs, sausages, back bacon, tomatoes, mushrooms, fried bread and often a slice of white or black pudding (similar to bloodwurst). It is accompanied by tea or coffee and hot, buttered toast. These days, breakfast may also include other items such as baked beans and hash browns.

There are many regional versions of this staple. For example, the Ulster Fry includes Irish soda bread; the Scottish breakfast boasts a tattie scone (potato scone) and even maybe a slice of haggis; the Welsh breakfast features laverbread (barra lawr, made from seaweed); and the Cornish breakfast often comes with Cornish hogs pudding (a kind of sausage).

The tradition of breakfast dates back to the Middle Ages. At this time, there were usually only two meals a day; breakfast and dinner. Breakfast was served mid or late morning, and usually consisted of just ale and bread, with perhaps some cheese, cold meat or dripping.

A lavish breakfast was often served by the nobility or gentry at social or ceremonial occasions such as weddings. A wedding mass had to take place before noon, so all weddings took place in the mornings. The first meal the new bride and groom ate together would therefore be breakfast and became known as the ‘wedding breakfast’.

By Georgian and Victorian times, breakfast had become an important part of a shooting party, weekend house party or hunt and was served a little earlier. The gentry loved to entertain lavishly and that included breakfast.

Breakfasts were unhurried, leisurely affairs with plenty of silver and glassware on show to impress the host’s guests. The breakfast table would groan under the weight of the produce from the host’s estate. Newspapers were available for the family and guests to catch up on the day’s news. Indeed, it is still socially acceptable today to read newspapers at the breakfast table (a definite ‘no-no’ at any other meal).

As well as eggs and bacon, which was first cured in the early 18th century, the breakfast feast might also include offal such as kidneys, cold meats such as tongue and fish dishes such as kippers and kedgeree, a lightly spiced dish from colonial India of rice, smoked fish and boiled eggs.

The Victorian era saw a wealthy middle class begin to emerge in British society who wished to copy the customs of the gentry, including the tradition of the full English breakfast. As the middle classes went out to work, breakfast began to be served earlier, typically before 9am.

Surprisingly, the full English breakfast was also enjoyed by many of the working classes. The punishing physical labour and long hours of work in the factories of the Industrial Revolution meant a hearty meal first thing in the morning was necessary. Even as late as the 1950s, almost half the adult population began their day with a good old English fry-up.

[thrilling-oneway]

I made a post about a year ago now probably saying I didn't have any ideas for prsk mixed events anyway i do have ideas now.

I still want an animal event. SIF is dead now and there’s no more animal costume sets in the world. Plot doesn’t have to be deep it can just be hanging out at a zoo or something. Anyway: cat Airi, platypus Rui, hamster Kohane, penguin Haruka. Bunny Mafuyu if you want as well. Could work with MinoKoha as well because they’re in the animal caretaker club.

TANABATA EVENT. Please be the June->July lim event. Why has prsk not done one of these yet?? Anyway these cards are always so pretty in other games so project sekai should do one. Idc who’s on the banner they just need to do a tanabata event. Thank you.

Rooftop event. I want an event that just studies Mizuki and Rui’s time in middle school vs now under a microscope. Neither of them have second mixed banners yet so there is hope. Throw in Ena and Tsukasa as well because I love parallels a normal amount.

MafuHona event. Listen, they are so similar I need them to have an event about it. They both would do anything anyone wanted and it destroyed Mafuyu’s identity and caused Honami to leave her friends. You ever think about how Mafuyu wanted to be a nurse and Honami wants to be a caregiver. Yeah. Also you can put Kanade and Saki in if you want (this was my wedding event prediction but then Mafuyu got a lim)

Cat Cafe. Okay honestly this probably works better as a mmj event but then again they had the penguin cafe event so mixed could work actually. Not to say cat Airi again but I’m going to say cat Airi again. Or you could do this with MinoSaki since they work at the cafe.

Gardening club event. Is Rui the only known member of the gardening club? Yes. Do i care? No. Give us a set with dungarees and cute wellies please it’d be worth it colopale. Also I want a Rui and Saki event (i did have an explanation for this but then I forgot what it was) and I think Saki would suit this kind of costume.

MizuAn event. I think something to do with fashion could be fun. Street style Mizuki and lolita style An do you see my vision? Shinonome sibs could go here as well since they both like fashion.

Continuing the trend of “double date” events, I think ShizuAiri + Shiho & a Leo/need could be funny. Yeah that’s all I have to say about this one.

Wait project sekai has never had an ice cream parlour event before has it? Ohoho this could be a great one. Mmm… I think Saki would be a good fit on the note that this is interchangeable with diner theme and have you seen her new birthday card it is so retro diner coded. Actually this would be cute as a Tenma sibs event.

Steampunk event. This is just because I like steampunk and need something better than 3/5 of the Revival cards. I still think it fits with Rui though.

Phantom Thief. I am still salty that they put Phantom Thief in the title for the first White Day event and then made a knights set. Tbf this would probably work better as a WxS set but it could be a fun mixed event. I don’t really know who would go on this banner.

Holy shit this got long so I’m just gonna end it here. Anyway none of these are ever going to happen but if you read all that then have a cookie 🍪

[dottielovegood]

Trick or Treat - part 2 (Elriel)

Chapter 2/2: Music of the Night Chapter 1: What to wear? Rating: Explicit Read on AO3 ________________________________

It’s been a year since Elain and Azriel met at a Halloween party. That time, they were dressed as Kylo Ren and Rey. What will their costumes be this year?

—————————————- This is the second part of my Halloween fic that I wrote last year. If you want to read part one, you can find it here

Let me present the GIF that inspired this entire fic:

Floating, falling, sweet intoxication Touch me, trust me, savour each sensation Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in To the power of the music that I write The power of the music of the night

---

I was standing in the middle of the living room with my eyes closed, per Azriel’s request. It was the morning of the Halloween party and I had spent the better part of the last day and a half nagging him about the Halloween costumes. In my orgasmic bliss a week earlier, letting him decide the costumes hadn’t seemed like that big of a deal. But since waking up the day after, I had been worried. I didn’t know why really. Azriel had good taste and we did enjoy similar things. And I was pretty certain that he hadn’t bought me a Shrek/Donkey costume. But what if I had planted that idea in his head? What if he went with it? What if I had to go to a party dressed like a freaking donkey? I would have to fake an illness. I should have just kept my mouth quiet…

“You can open your eyes.”

I waited for a few seconds, praying to gods I didn’t believe in that he had chosen something that looked good. It didn’t have to be sexy - I had never been one for sexy costumes - but I did want to look hot. Or at least interesting. 

I crossed my fingers behind my back, hoping that he had gone along with my request of Anakin and Padme. 

Slowly, I opened my eyes and took in the fabric he held in his hands. It was white. A white dress. Or was it even a dress? The fabric looked thin and I could make out more than one ruffle. 

I stared at him. 

“Is it a…nightgown?” I asked, clueless to what his plan was. I couldn’t think of a single character wearing a dress like that. 

He shook his head. “No. It’s a dress.” 

Once again, I looked at the dress he was holding in one hand. White, ruffles– oh god. He hadn’t…

“Azriel…” I began, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “is that a wedding dress?” 

A smirk played on Azriel’s lips. “Elain, when I want you in a wedding dress, you’ll know.”

My eyes met his and I couldn’t help but smile. “ When you want me in a wedding dress? Not if?” 

“When,” he repeated, nothing but sincerity in his eyes.

I didn’t know if he understood how much that little word meant to me. How many meanings that word held. When . Our future held so many possibilities and knowing that Azriel intended on spending his future with me made me want to toss that white thing to the side and kiss him like my life depended on it. 

I took a step toward him to do just that but my plan was interrupted when Azriel handed me the dress. “Try it on.”

“Azriel,” I laughed and took the dress from him. I held it up in front of my body, hoping that I would understand his thought process if I could imagine myself in the dress. I couldn’t. “I still have no idea who’s dress this is supposed to be.”

“Wait,” Azriel bent down to the bag he had left by his feet. He pulled out another white item. “It comes with a corset.”

I took the corset from him and he looked at me like I had to get it now. I looked at the items in my hands and I still drew blanks. Maybe because my mind was still stuck on wedding dresses and the fact that Azriel wanted to see me in one someday . 

He reached into the bag again and pulled out a third white item. “I’ll be wearing this.”

He held it up in front of his face and that’s when all the puzzle pieces finally came together. 

“Phantom of the opera?” I asked, even though the answer was ridiculously obvious now. That mask could only belong to one character.

Azriel scratched his neck, suddenly looking less confident. “Do you like it?” 

I smiled at him and went up on my toes to kiss his cheek. “It’s not as good as Shrek and Donkey, but it’ll do.” 

In all honesty, it was the perfect costume. 

A few hours, and a few mental breakdowns later, I was standing in the bathroom, trying to tighten the corset. It had taken all my energy to curl my hair into something resembling Christine’s and this corset was making me question Azriel’s sanity. Why did he buy me this stupid thing? And how on earth did women in the past dress like this everyday? They deserved a fucking medal. But then again, their corsets were probably better quality and made from their measurements. But still – trying to put on this corset felt like a workout, and I definitely didn’t want to sweat right now. 

There was a light knock on the door. “Elain, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I gritted out. “Almost done.” 

“Okay.” Azriel knew better than to question a woman while she tried to get ready. 

I tapped my phone to look at the time. Shit. The party started in ten minutes and I hated being late. I had to admit defeat. 

“Azriel,” I called out.

“Yeah?” he answered, and his voice told me that he was standing just outside the door. 

“I think I need some help.”

The door to the bathroom opened and Azriel stepped inside. He was already dressed and god, he looked good. How could a man possibly look this good? He was wearing a black suit, a white shirt and a black cravatt. His dark hair was slicked back and the mask was already in place. If we hadn’t been running late already, I might have fallen to my knees just at the sight of him. 

“You look so good,” I said, running my hands over his chest. 

He chuckled. “Better than Gerald Butler?”

“Mhm,” I hummed appreciatively. 

“Watch out Elain, you telling me that I look better than celebrities might go to my head someday.”

“But you do look better. I think you might be the most attractive man who ever walked this earth.”

Azriel caressed my cheek and placed a soft kiss on my lips. “And you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

I smiled at him, holding his hand against my cheek. “We really are a ridiculously attractive couple, huh?”

Azriel just chuckled at that comment. “What do you need help with, angel?”

I pointed at the corset. “This torture device. I can’t tighten it properly.”

“Turn around.”

Even though he wasn’t suggesting anything sexual, my body clearly didn’t get the memo. I felt my nipples stiffen at the command and I knew, without a doubt, that if Azriel lifted my skirt and wanted to take me right here, I would be more than okay with the fact that we would be very late. 

But Azriel did no such thing, which was probably for the better. He just reached for the laces and expertly started to tighten the damned corset. “Tell me if it’s too tight.” 

I placed my hands on the sink and looked at us in the mirror. His dark form towered over me and I couldn’t help but smile at the picture it painted - we really did look good. And we did look like the characters. The dark, tortured soul that lived in shadows and the ethereal angel who was his muse and love. I made a mental note to never doubt Azriel’s costume buying skills ever again. 

Azriel tied the laces in a bow. “How’s that?”

“Perfect,” I said and stroked the stiff material. It hugged my body perfectly, and if I could say so myself, it made my boobs look great. Maybe corsets weren’t all bad? 

Azriel’s hands traveled up my back. He pulled my hair to one side, giving him access to my neck. He placed a soft kiss there, sending tingles down my spine. “You are perfect,” he murmured against my skin. His hands came around my body, holding me close to him. In the mirror, our eyes met. 

“We could skip the party,” he said and pressed another soft kiss to my flushed skin. 

I laughed and shook my head. “Why? Do you have some sort of role playing fantasy?” 

“Maybe,” he murmured, a smirk playing on his lips. “Did I ever tell you that I had a crush on Christine when I was younger.”

“Really?” I wasn’t really surprised. I knew that Phantom of the opera was one of Azriel’s favorite movies, another fact that didn’t surprise me. Knowing his past, I could see that teenage Azriel might see himself in the Phantom. His childhood had been full of darkness and the scars on his hands were a constant reminder of that part of his life. In the mirror, I could see that Azriel was lost in thoughts, maybe remembering things he would rather forget. I placed my hands over his where they rested on my stomach. We were still looking at each other in the mirror and I could see his features relax when I smiled at him, silently telling him how much he meant to me. 

“I love you,” I whispered and tried to turn around but Azriel's grip on me was firm. He pressed his lips against my hair and whispered, “We should probably go if we don’t want to be late.”

“I thought you wanted to stay home.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“And what if I want to tempt you?”

His gloved hands were still holding me close and the stark juxtaposition between the black leather and white ruffles did something to me. In the mirror, I could see his gaze grow darker. 

“Then I would say that you are succeeding.” 

I bit back a smile. “I have heard that all the fancy guests arrive fashionably late.” 

“Have you now?” He smirked. One of his hands traveled lower, gripping my skirt. “What would people say if they knew you arrived late because you wanted to be fucked?” 

“How would they know?” I asked and arched into his touch. I could already feel him growing hard against me. God, I needed him. How could I feel such an intense desire for this man still?

Azriel met my gaze in the mirror. “But you just got dressed, Elain. Do you really want to do all of this all over again when I’m done with you?” 

“I’m wearing a dress, Azriel,” I said, looking down to where his hands caressed the white fabric. “I’m pretty certain that you can make me come without undressing me.” 

“Is that a challenge?”

Yes. Yes it was. 

“Do you want it to be?”

A grin played on his lips as he let go of me, taking a step back. I watched him in the mirror with a confused expression. Was he really going to deny me?

But all my questions were answered when Azriel told me to turn around and face him. 

“You really are a needy little girl, aren’t you?” he teased, and there was no point in denying the fact. 

“I always need you, Azriel.” 

His eyes traveled down my body, taking in the white dress he had bought for me. “Tell me exactly what you need. What do you want me to do to you?”

I took a step toward him. “I want you to make me feel good.”

“And?”

“And I want you to fill me up,” I placed my hand on his chest once more. “I feel so empty,” I pouted. 

Azriel just chuckled at my lame attempt of seeming innocent. 

“Then kneel, Elain. And open your mouth for me.” And as if his words were a spell, I could do nothing but fall to my knees in front of him. 

I looked up at him as he reached for the fastenings of his pants. He quickly unbuttoned them and pulled out his hard cock, holding it just out of reach. I was aching for a taste. 

Before Azriel, I had never cared much for giving blowjobs. It was just something I did to keep my boyfriend happy, and it was usually something quick that didn’t require too much effort on my part. But then I met him, and that all changed. With Azriel, I craved having him in my mouth, I craved the taste of him - the feeling of him filling every part of me. 

Azriel placed the head of his cock against my lower lip and I let my tongue taste the small bead of precum there. One of his hands went to the back of my head, grabbing my hair. 

“You’re gonna sit there like a good girl and let me fuck that pretty little mouth of yours,” he growled. I nodded, eager for him to do just that. I placed my hands on his thighs for support. 

Without saying another word, Azriel slid the head of his cock into my mouth. I kept my eyes on his as he filled me. When I felt him at the back of my throat, I squeezed his thighs, silently telling him that he was reaching my limit. He slowed his movement, letting me get used to having him in my mouth. He was so big and my jaw already ached. But it was a good ache - one that could distract me from the ache that was already building between my legs. 

“You know what to do if you want me to stop.”

That was all the warning I got before he grabbed my hair with both hands and started fucking my face. Within seconds, I felt my eyes tear up from the intrusion. I couldn’t think, could barely breathe. I didn’t care. Everything was Azriel and I was in heaven. 

“Fuck, you look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, angel. Such a good girl for me,” he gritted out. “I can’t believe all the things you let me do to you.” 

I couldn’t believe it either, but I loved them all. The dirtier, the better. 

I tried to relax my jaw to take even more of him. Azriel didn’t let up. He fucked my face and I knew that I would have to fix my make up before we left because there was no chance in hell that everything had stayed in place after this. 

“I’m close,” Azriel warned, giving me the chance to signal for him if I wanted him to pull out. 

I did no such thing. Instead, I hummed around him, taking his cock just that little bit further. Azriel swore under his breath as his strokes became more erratic, the rhythm lost as he neared his orgasm. He held my head still and pushed in one last time, his fingers tangled in my hair. The groan he let out as he came in my mouth made me feral. The taste of him on my tongue made me, if possible, even wetter. 

When Azriel pulled out, I felt a drop of his spend run down my chin and Azriel reached down to wipe it away before it had a chance to ruin my dress. “Show me,” he commanded.

At his request, I opened my mouth and showed him his pleasure pooled on my tongue. He kneeled in front of me, one hand moving to grab my throat. “Swallow.” His eyes were dark with pleasure and need. 

I did as I was told and I could tell that Azriel was pleased to feel my throat work as I swallowed his seed. I opened my mouth again, just to show him that I had done what he asked. 

“Good girl,” he purred. “Always such a good fucking girl for me. What have I done to deserve you.” 

It didn’t seem like a question that needed a response so I just smiled at him, my eyes seeking his. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine, kissing me softly. I melted against him. Azriel moved the hand that wasn’t holding my throat to my thigh, finding his way under the skirt of my dress. When he reached my panties, his eyes grew even darked. A dangerous smile spread across his lips. 

“Such a needy girl. All wet and desperate from sucking my cock.”

“Yes,” I rasped, my throat still raw from him using me. I was needy, and I needed him to make me feel good now too. I was burning up for him. 

Azriel’s fingers stroked me over the panties, finding just the right spots to drive me wild. “Please,” I breathed. 

“You need me to fill you here too?” he teased. 

I could do nothing but nod as his fingers pressed against my entrance. I suddenly questioned my decision to wear panties. I should have just gone without. 

“Stand up and put your hands on the sink again and wait for me.” 

Before I could ask what he meant with that last part, Azriel stood up and walked out of the room. Confused, I stood up too. My legs already felt like jelly but I did as I was told and turned around to face the mirror, my hands firmly gripping the sink for support. 

When Azriel returned, I could tell that he was carrying something but I couldn’t see what. He placed it on the edge of the bathtub behind me and as he stood to face me, his body covered whatever it was that he had brought with him. 

Once again, Azriel's hands snaked around my waist until he could hug me close - my back to his front. He kissed my temple and I let myself relax against him. 

“I want your eyes in the mirror at all times. I want you to watch what I do to you.” Azriel's breath was warm on my ear and I felt a shiver run down my spine at his words. 

He bent down and started to gather the skirt of my dress in his hands. The cold air against my hot skin was welcome as he pulled the skirt over my ass. He lifted the edge of my corset and pushed the fabric of the skirt underneath, making sure that it would stay in place for whatever he had planned. 

In the mirror, I watched him as he worked and I could feel my underwear grow even more damp. I couldn’t even explain the relief I felt as Azriel kneeled behind me and started to slide the panties down my legs. When Azriel had removed the lacy fabric from my body, he placed a kiss just under my ass. I arched into the touch of his lips on me, silently begging him for more. 

When I felt the leather of his glove between my folds, I sighed and closed my eyes, trying to savor the feeling. “Is this where you want me?” he asked, teasing my entrance. 

I nodded. “Yes.” 

He gathered the wetness there and moved his finger higher. Higher. 

“Oh,” I gasped as his finger started massaging me there .

In the past couple of weeks, we had experimented quite a bit with anal. We hadn’t really talked about it before and it wasn’t something I thought I ever wanted to try. It seemed scary – like something people only did in porn. But then one night, Azriel used his finger to massage me there as he ate me out, which resulted in the most mind blowing orgasm. It led me to evaluate everything I thought I knew about that kind of sex. And since then, we’ve tried fingers, plugs and even smaller dildos, and to my surprise, I loved it all.

“And what about here,” Azriel asked. “You need to be filled here too?” 

I had no idea what to answer. Did I want that? And if so, what was I agreeing to, exactly? As if he could read my mind, he said, “I’m not going to fuck you here, yet. But there are so many other naughty things I could do to you. Do you want that, Elain?”

I swallowed around the lump in my throat, remembering just how good he always made me feel. “Yes,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper. 

“Good girl,” he praised. I could hear him shift behind me and my best guess was that he was reaching for whatever he had brought with him when he left the bathroom just moments ago. And before my mind could run wild with possibilities of what exactly that thing was, I had my answer. 

I felt the cold slick of lube before something cold pressed against my ass. “What is it?” I breathed, though I could almost guess. 

“A plug,” he said matter of factly. “The pretty one with the blue jewel on it.” 

I knew exactly which one he was talking about. We had bought it just two weeks ago and it had already become a favorite of mine. It was the perfect size and weight.

He pressed the plug against me and I tried to relax for him. I pushed back slightly and felt the tip go inside me. Azriel returned his fingers to my pussy, easily finding my clit. He massaged it, making me relax even more. I whimpered as I felt the widest part of the plug stretch me, making me edge somewhere between pleasure and pain. “Fuck,” I whimpered when the rest of the plug slipped inside. It felt heavy, big. It stretched me so good, yet I still yearned for more. 

“Such a sweet girl, taking everything I give you," Azriel cooed. 

And then his lips were on me, his tongue finding all the places that made me see stars. 

“Azriel,” I gasped as he grabbed my hips and started fucking me with his tongue. I reached back, twisting my fingers in his hair. I didn’t know if I wanted to pull him closer or push him away. I wanted to sob, it felt so good. 

“Please,” I begged and tried to move against him, desperately seeking the friction I needed. He let me do so, and I was right at that sweet, torturous edge. “I–fuck, I need– please,” I babbled, not really making any sense. When Azriel closed his lips around my clit, I shattered, my pussy clenching down on nothing as I came for him. Azriel’s tongue guided me through the pleasure and when I felt myself return to my body, Azriel was once again standing behind me. I could already feel the head of his cock at my entrance. I hadn't even noticed that he moved.

“Can you take more?” his jaw was set, as if it took everything in him to stay in control right now. 

I nodded, too spent to do anything else. I’ll take anything you give me. 

Without wasting any time, Azriel started to sink himself into me with a groan. The plug made me even tighter, which made his cock feel impossibly big. As he bottomed out, I felt my eyes roll back in my head from the pleasure of being so completely filled. 

“Fuck,” he growled and buried his head in the crook of my neck. “So fuck tight. How do you always feel so good? Fuck.” 

His dirty mouth would be the death of me.

Azriel stayed still for a few moments, one of his hands moving my hair to one shoulder. He licked my neck, sucking a bruise into the tender skin just below my ear. One of his hands spanned over my stomach and the other rested against my throat, holding me against him. In the mirror, he met my eyes and I could see the same desire I felt reflected there. As I looked at myself, I almost wanted to laugh. I looked so lost in pleasure. So desperate for anything this man could give me. And my make up was a mess. My mascara had run and the foundation around my mouth had rubbed off. 

I couldn’t even find the energy to care. 

At least my hair still looked great. 

Azriel pulled almost all the way out before pushing inside again with one, long stroke. I could feel everything, and it was pure bliss. My hands gripped the sink tighter, trying to hold myself steady as Azriel started to fuck me. “Taking me so fucking well,” Azriel growled in my ear. “Such a dirty girl, begging me to fuck her. Was this what you needed, huh?” 

I nodded. No words except ‘please’ and ‘yes’ would come to me right now, and my brain couldn’t even decide which word to use in this situation. I was too lost in pleasure. Too lost in Azriel. 

With every thrust, I could feel the plug shift slightly inside me as Azriel’s hips pressed against my ass. I tried meeting his thrusts, tried giving him everything he was giving me. 

I moaned when he hit a particularly good spot inside me. I was so close. And as if on cue, Azriel moved his hand from my waist to my core. He massaged my clit with two fingers and seeing that black glove between my legs was hotter than anything I could have imagined.

Yep, I definitely had a glove kink. Good to know. 

“You need to come,” he said, and it wasn’t a question. But even if it had been, I was pretty sure the answer was painted on my face. I did need to come, and I needed him to come too. I needed him to show me how good this felt for him. I needed him to give me everything. 

When I felt Azriel bite down on my shoulder, I could no longer hold back. I came with Azriel’s name on my lips and he held me close as pleasure coursed through my body, setting every nerve ending on fire. I felt like I was floating. 

It didn’t take long before I felt Azriel tense behind me and with one last stroke, he filled me with his cock and with his seed. My eyes rolled back at the sensation of being so completely filled by the man I loved. 

We stayed like that for a few moments trying to catch our breaths. When I met his gaze in the mirror again, I couldn’t help but smile. “That was…” I began, but I had no words to describe what just happened. 

“Yeah,” Azriel said, his voice low and gravelly. I felt his seed run down my thighs as he pulled out. God, I loved it when he made a mess of me. 

Azriel reached for a cloth on the shelf beside the sink and made quick work of cleaning us. When he gently slid the fabric against my sensitive core I had to bite my lip to keep from whimpering. I was so sensitive. I had no idea how I would be able to go to a party right now. 

Hopefully, my body would calm down in the fifteen minutes it would take to fix my make up. 

“Lift your legs, angel. One at a time,” Azriel said from where he kneeled behind me. I did, and felt him slid the panties back in place. When he was standing behind me again, I looked at him incredulously. 

“Azriel,” I said, turning around. “Didn’t you forget something?” 

He shook his head. “You asked me to fill you up and I’m pretty sure that’s what I did. So no, I did not forget anything.” 

“The plug is still inside me,” I hissed, keeping my voice low, as if anyone could hear us. 

“Yes, it is. And it will stay there until we get home.” 

I stared at him in disbelief. “What?” 

Azriel cupped my cheek and pressed his lips to mine. I could feel him smile as he kissed me, that bastard. “Only bad girls ask their boyfriends to fuck them when they’re already late to a party. I think that deserves some kind of punishment.” 

I narrowed my eyes at him. “How am I supposed to act like a normal human being when I can’t even move without being reminded of it.” 

He shrugged. “Should have thought about that before you begged me to fill you. I just gave you what you wanted.” 

With one last brush of his lips, Azriel let go of me and walked out of the room. I stood there, staring after him, my mouth hanging open. This man would surely never stop surprising me. 

I turned to the mirror again and reached for my make up bag. And as I expected, every single movement made me feel just how filled I was. I both hated it and loved it. 

This was going to be a long night. 

Twenty minutes later, we walked out the door and headed to the party. Luckily, we only had to take the elevator up to the top floor to get to Rhys and Feyre’s apartment. I was carrying a tray of cupcakes I had made the night before in the shapes of little pumpkins and ghosts. They were adorable, if I could say so myself. When the elevator doors closed behind us, Azriel started humming the melody to “The Music of the Night” from Phantom of the Opera. I smiled at him, wondering if he knew that it was my favorite song from the movie. The knowing smirk he gave me in return answered that question. 

“Are you doing okay?” Azriel asked as we stood outside the door. 

“No.” I muttered, trying to not think about the freaking butt plug in my ass. Azriel just chuckled and reached out to knock on the door. 

“You’ll sing a different tune in a few hours, I promise.”

I stared at him. “Hours? As in plural? I might die.”

Before he could answer, the door swung open and we were met by an excited Feyre. 

“Elain,” Feyre exclaimed when she saw me. I handed the tray to Azriel so I could embrace my sister.

“Hi, Feyre.”

Feyre took a step back to admire our costumes. “You look great,” she said and gestured to Azriel’s face. “Why am I not surprised to see you in a mask?”

Azriel chuckled. “At least this one only covers half my face.”

Feyre ushered us to come inside and took the tray of cupcakes from Azriel. “You’re late,” she remarked and I looked at Azriel because I had no idea what to say to that. I had totally forgotten to come up with a good excuse. 

Azriel smiled, his face giving nothing away. “Elain had some trouble with the corset,” he explained, and miraculously, Feyre seemed to accept that excuse. 

I followed my sister into the kitchen where she placed the cupcakes on the kitchen island. “I’ll put them here with the alcohol. Drunk people love cake.”

Feyre was positively glowing tonight and I wanted to compliment her outfit too, but I had no idea what she was supposed to be. She was wearing a yellow dress with matching yellow tights. She also wore a yellow diadem that sort of reminded me of the Statue of Liberty, but also not. 

“Feyre, I’m sorry, but what are you supposed to be?” I asked just as Rhys walked up behind her. He smiled at us in greeting and bent down to kiss the top of Feyre’s head. God, those two were disgustingly cute together. Rhys was wearing black jeans and a black jumper with a bunch of planets on it. He gestured to the shirt, “I’m the solar system,” he pointed at Feyre, “and she’s the sun.”

I couldn’t hold back the laugh that bubbled up. It was such a ridiculously sweet couples costume, even though it was a bit cheesy. And it kind of painted Rhys as a simp, which I guess he was in some aspects. 

“I lost a bet,” Rhys explained, and from the blush spreading across Feyre’s cheeks, I wondered what kind of bet he had lost, but I knew better than to ask. I really didn’t need to know intimate details about my sister and her fiancé.

“We had planned to go as Mr. and Mrs. Smith but that didn’t work out,” Feyre said and smiled warmly at Rhys. 

“Why not?” Azriel asked.

Feyre looked at him, seeming lost for words. Someone who didn’t know her as well as I did might have thought that she was just pausing before answering the question, but I could tell that she was hiding something. The way she looked to Rhys just after Azriel asked about the costume definitely gave it away. I just didn’t know what it was. 

Interesting. 

“I ordered the wrong sizes. It was all my fault,” Rhys answered quickly and I think that both Azriel and I could tell that it was a lie. 

Feyre bit her lip to hide a smile. “Yeah, it really was all your fault.”

I left my sister, Rhys and Azriel in the kitchen to go look for Nesta. I didn’t find her, but I did find Nuala and Cerridwen in the living room. The twins were dressed as two of the members in the Cheerleading squad ‘East Compton Clovers’ from Bring it on . According to me, they should win the costume competition if there was one. Bring it on was, after all, one of the greatest movies ever made, and they truly looked like they could have been part of the cast. 

“Ellie,” they both shouted at the same time as they saw me walk up to them. 

“Why are you so late?” Nuala asked. 

I gestured to the corset, trying to seem nonchalant. “This thing was a bitch to get on.”

The twins narrowed their eyes. “Uh-huh,” Cerridwen said, clearly not believing me. 

“Was it because Azriel had to help you get into it again after you role played the sexy scenes from Phantom?” Nuala asked, a knowing smile on her face. 

“Shh.” I looked around to make sure that no one heard. “That’s not– I mean, we didn’t do that.” The blush that spread across my cheeks definitely didn’t help me make the lie seem convincing. 

“Good for you girl,” Cerr said and patted my arm. “He does look ridiculously hot in that costume.” 

I looked at Azriel where he stood by the door, talking to Cassian. He really did look handsome. Cassian looked good too in his Geralt of Rivia costume. From this distance, he almost looked like Henry Cavill. 

God, Nesta would be pissed. 

Nesta had told me that she was going as Yennefer this year and the knowledge that Cassian and Nesta now wore accidentally matching outfits had me biting back a grin. Fate was funny like that. 

–

Azriel and I stayed at the party for an hour and a half before I forced him to take me home. Not that he needed much convincing. Luckily for us, most people knew that we hated parties so no one was surprised that we left early, but I could definitely see the knowing looks the twins gave each other when I told them that I was tired and needed to go home. I decided to ignore it for now. 

There was only one thing on my mind…

__________________________________

(I'm sorry if this isn't particularly good. I decided to re-write the entire chapter last minute because I hated the first draft. Ah, the joys of being a writer! So yeah, sorry if some parts seem a bit rushed.)

As always, thank you for reading!

[strangelockd]

I'll Give You The Moon And Stars

Tumblr somehow deleted this story so I had to repost it.....So here I am once again. (Don't let this flop lol)

Pairing: Sinister!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: It finally here! Your wedding day to Sinister Strange. But he has a few surprises up his sleeve to make your best day ever even better than you could dream.

Word Count: 2.9K

Warnings: None really just tooth rotting fluff, Mutual pining

A/N: This story is somewhat of a self indulgent piece. It came to me one night bc I have always wanted to Waltz, let alone with Mr.Sinister.

Theres references to The Phantom of the Opera & Outlander!!!!

I have a strong headcannon that he is very light on his feet. Plus I can’t help but think of Sinister without Once Upon A Dream playing in my mind.

Steadily pacing around the grand room back and forth with the feeling of butterflies in your stomach, you kept wiping your outstretched hands on your legs because your palms wouldn’t stop sweating. Eyeballing the long A-line black and purple ombre dress hanging off the four-poster bed. Gathering your courage to shuffle towards it, lifting it gently off the plush hanger. The soft taffeta texture along with the outer tulle feeling soft against your skin; fingers gently dancing over the moonstone beads. The constellation patterns embellished on the waistline giving off a shimmer in the light. Tears welling in your eyes, for it was finally your wedding day. 

Sure, it wasn’t the ceremony you first envisioned since you were a little girl. The typical tradition of a Church and a huge gathering never resonated with you anyway. But Sinister latched onto your heart and swept you off your feet. He was without question the love of your life. Ever since you arrived in his world you slowly began to change him. His heart thawing like Spring warning away the frosty ice of Winter. You couldn’t wait to become his wife. 

Wiping away the gentle tears cascading down your cheeks to slide off the silken nightgown from your shoulders, tossing it to the side. Sliding into the gown gently right foot first, then the left. Zipping up the side of it, the corset snugging all the right places. Taking the extra time to adjust the black lingerie stockings giving them a light snap against your thigh. Tussling your hair slowly walking towards the embellished mirror you couldn’t believe how gorgeous you looked. You really did feel like a true Disney princess. That is, if princesses were into gothic attire.

Strapping on the black wedges to stand upright, making your way back to the four-poster bed reaching for the blood red rose bouquet that was decorated with purple lace. Peaks of white babies’ breath sticking out between them. Grabbing the perfume bottle off the vanity to generously sprits yourself with ‘Into the Night’ perfume. Its delicate amber scent danced around your senses. It was your signature scent and Sinister adored it. His heart always skipping a beat when walking into a room and knowing you where just there from the smell alone. The sheer intoxication of it all leaving an imprint on his mind and his senses. 

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, fingers wrapped around the silver door latch finally making your exit to the grand sanctum. This is it……The next time you returned would not be (Y/L/N), but Mrs.Strange. The thought of it making your heart flutter faster. 

Shoes quietly stepping on the floor to turn the corner slowly; finally arriving in the main room. There by the glowing window of the seal of Vishanti was your fiancé and soon to be husband, Sinister Strange. His tall lean frame silhouetted forming his hands behind his back facing outside the giant window. Safe assumption that he was in deep thought. 

Stepping out of the dark hallway looking up to him swallowing back tears you beckoned playfully, “Hello handsome.” His head perked to turn, slowly shifting completely around finding himself almost falling over if he wasn’t struck dead in his tracks. 

Eyes wide scanning up and down your gorgeous frame, his admiring gaze never wavering. A look full of pure uninhibited love. You looked like an angel. My angel of music. His sea glass eyes blown wide; mouth slightly open. She is absolutely beautiful. Just keep composure…and don’t cry. Its not everyday the worlds most powerful sorcerer is rendered speechless.

Face beaming, finding yourself in awe at how handsome he looked as well. He always took your breath away. Instead of his usual tunic he opted for a black victorian jacquard swallowtail frock coat with a matching vest. Completing the look with a dark purple ascot necktie. His Pressed black trousers accompanied by the solid black wingtip oxford shoes. The usual disheveled silken hair swept back neatly with a pomade. Of course, except for a few strands cascading down his forehead, slightly veiling his chiseled cheeks. The uniformed look of his silver strands on his temples giving off a soft glow from the light. He truly looked superbly divine and delectable. The things I would do to him tonight……

With an endearing grin he extended his left hand outward, the baritone in his voice dropping an octave that always drove you crazy sending an electric shock up your spine, “Darling……come here”

A wide smile spreading across your face emitting a giggle from you. Your smile always to sent a flood of warmth through his chest every time he saw it. Stepping closer grasping his hand bringing it up to his velvet lips, eyes never breaking contact with yours to slowly place a soft kiss on your fingers. Blue eyes shimmering like two glowing pools causing the heat to rise from your chest up to your cheeks.

Clearing his throat Sinister couldn’t help but to speak above a whisper; gently turning your hand over. Lips caressing your delicate palm to steal more kisses from your open hand between pauses, “You look…absolutely divine my love…so breathtaking. My angel.”

Smiling back sheepishly, “You’re not so bad yourself Stephen, you cleanup nice. Always such a gentleman to me.” Stroking his goatee giving it a light tug winking at him, noticing the tips of his ears turning pink with his cheeks.

Returning to stand upright never releasing your hand Sinister slowly guided you to the center of the Sanctum Hall, his oxford heels echoing off the wooden floor. Surrounded by snuffed out candles and musical instruments he waved his free hand to illuminate the candles surrounding you. Filling the hall with soft glowing warmth. The elegant glow dancing off your faces, accentuating his defined face and cheekbones, it felt like a living fairytale. 

Giving a heartfelt sigh, “You never cease to impress me Stephen, I always love when you use magic,” giving his hand a light squeeze.

“My bride deserves the best. This is the start of the rest of our lives, and I want to give you the moon and the stars. I love you with my whole heart (y/n),” guiding your hand bringing it up to his chest.

Being how it was just the two of you in this fractured world together you mutually agreed to exchange vows and rings with each other. Over the course of a year the two of you noticed this world slowly beginning to rebuild itself. Plants where sprouting, and you even pointed out some baby doves outside nesting on the library window. A normal explanation couldn’t be placed as to why, but Sinister deeply believed that it was your love and inner magic that was helping to sew this universe back together. He convinced himself he would be destined to wander it alone. For years his heart pined for companionship, but loneliness along with time began to calcify his heart due to the shame of his past. But you came into his life and repaired a broken man who believed in love all over again. A debt he could never fully repay. The closest he could muster was to ask for your hand and become his for eternity.

A loving smile formed on your lips, “I love you to Stephen…so much”

Feeling his rapid heartbeat through his vest you brought your palm up to cup his face, he leaned into it grabbing urgently with both hands. Like you were a dream, and he was afraid he would wake up from it.  After some time you spoke gently, “I would like to begin my love, for I can not wait any longer for you to be my wife (Y/N)”

Smiling at his eagerness you nodded, his stance erect he pulls out a folded parchment. Hands shaking a bit more then usual as his slender fingers unfolded the weathered paper. A clear sign he has taken many a time to write it out. Reaching for his hand once again for support feeling it get tighter as he read, “I Stephen Vincent Strange, take you to be my loving wife. To have, to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish you with every fiber of my soul till death we do part, and this is my solemn vow. Today I promise to respect you always. I will share the good times and bad times with you, be a support and guide. I promise to worship you at your feet for all eternity. You know me better than anyone else in this world and somehow still you manage to love me…...You are my best friend and one true love. Above all, I will love you from now until our day’s end.” 

 Suddenly breaking eye contact he gazed down away from you, hearing a sniffle to notice a single tear stream down his cheek. Bringing your soft hand up brushing it away with your thumb. A small smile on your lips you gently guided his head steadily upwards with your thumb and index finger, “That was perfect my love. I couldn’t have put it better myself.” Sinister couldn’t help but chuckle sheepishly at your affection. 

It left you speechless with your stomach doing somersaults. Fighting back your own tears your heart felt like it was going to burst. It was your turn to speak your heartfelt vow. Opting to not write anything you always spoke from the heart. But suddenly your brain was like a deer caught in the headlights.

 In a moment that felt like an eternity Sinister gave a chuckle to mouth the words, “you can do it my love,” squeezing your hands reassuringly. Giving a somber smile returning your hands downward gazing at Sinister straight into his blue eyes boldly professing, “I (Y/N), pledge to you Steven Vincent Strange, to always catch you before you stumble, and lift you over every threshold. I will always be by your side not only as your lover, but as your best friend. I promise to love you every day that I’m breathing. This is my solemn vow. You have the core of my heart beating for you, a love beyond what a metaphor can ever express.”

Closing his eyes releasing a heartfelt sigh that seemed like he was breathing in your words; he brought your hands to his lips. Waving his hand summoning light purple magic, a small ring box floated into his palm. The slender scarred digits slowly fishing out two matching wedding bands that were black with silver lining. Your ring accompanied by a small white diamond embedded into the jet black metal. 

Taking a band in each of your hands sliding them onto each others left ring finger. A symbol of undying love to your heart-lines. Holding Sinister’s fingers in the delicacy of yours rubbing your thumb over the band. His slender fingers even more beautiful than before. 

Together you had one last step in the ceremony to perform. Taking the purple lace from your bouquet to wrap your hands in unison. Sinister’s palm resting above yours, snugged between the soft fabric. Creating a bind symbolizing the bonding of both your lives. Reciting the planned vows, eyes never leaving each other in perfect unison to recite.

“You are Blood of my Blood, and Bone of my Bone. I give you my Body, that we Two might be One.  I give you my Spirit, ’til our Life shall be Done”

Sinister unraveled the purple fabric to magic it back onto your bouquet. Both releasing a joyous sigh, returning your hands back together. His thumb rubbing across your ring finger. With slightly choked up tempo you said, “I now pronounce us husband…...and wife.” Slightly bouncing up and down hardly containing your excitement, a huge smile beamed across your face.

Sinister wasted no time gently grabbing by both sides of your face. His large hands cradling you like precious porcelain. Pulling you in eagerly for a deep passionate kiss; lips melting together his mouth giving promises of love and protection. It felt like eternal bliss. Surrounded by the flicker of candlelight and for a moment forgetting the world around both of you existing. Pulling away glacially to look up at Sinister smiling down at you. 

“I love you; I love you with all my soul (Y/N Strange).” Rubbing a thumb gently across your cheek you blushed at the sentiment of using your newly claimed last name.

“I love you too Stephen Strange”

“I believe your husband owes you a first dance”

Your ears perked up at the sudden thought. You have always wanted to dance. It’s something you missed greatly. 

“That sounds incredible Stephen, yes please let’s do it.” Trying to contain your excitement, your hands still clasped together. Releasing from your grasp Sinister once again made a gesture with his hands; purple glowing magic emanating and surrounding all around you both. With wide eyes you saw the candles begin to hover and the instruments began to play. Finishing it off with a giant glowing chandelier up above. Hearing the familiar tempo of the music travel in your ears, tears formed in your eyes. Noticing the sound of the familiar score of Tchaikovsky’s Sleeping Beauty Waltz.

“Stephen…but how did you know”

Hands behind his back he paced slightly in front of you. “I know you more then anyone my love. You spoke about how you wanted to be a Disney princess. I felt this score fit perfectly. What kind of a husband would I be if I did not fulfill your every dream”

 Heart beating faster in your chest, feeling like you were on cloud nine. The familiar mm-bap-bap of the score leading the opening musical bar, Sinister taking a bow before you returning upright. His hand extended outward for you.

His baritone voice speaking gently, “May I have this dance my princess”

“I’d be honored”

Setting the bouquet on the grand piano to take his hand in yours, grabbing you by the small of your waist. Slowly at first guiding you across the sanctum floor with upmost grace. Not surprised that he was very experienced with waltzing. His steps ever fluid with the ¾ time, keeping up the pace with ease. No partner you’ve ever had could hold a candle to his dancing skills. The tail of his coat lifting with every gentle hop. His movement’s sweeping like a ghost across the dance floor. 

The score began to swell louder while keeping your pace together in perfect unison. Gliding across ever faster on the floor; your wedding dress swishing majestically like a work of moving art. Sinister couldn’t take his cerulean eyes from you. For all he cared the world would be burning and he would die a happy man.

“Ive said this a thousand times and I’ll keep saying it till my last breath, but you are beautiful. You are the sexiest thing in the world, never forget that” he breathed against your ear. 

“And I’ll never get tired of your sweet side Stephen”

 As the music began to die down so did your pace. Spinning around slower and slower until you fell into a deep embrace. His arms felt like home, the candles twinkling like lights from fairies. Sinister drew you closer to wear you were a breath away from each other. Noses nuzzling pulling you in for another kiss. Softly at first his mouth brushed against your lower lip. The beard tickling your soft skin. Melding together finally to tilt your head up deepening the kiss. Releasing a soft moan in sweet unison you lunged forward deeper on your tiptoes to get the most of his mouth. Tightening his grip around your waistline, he dipped you back to steal another kiss. This time his velvet tongue penetrating your lips, claiming access to your warm silken mouth. You welcomed it greatly never wanting to let go.

Releasing to catch your breaths Sinister leaned his forehead against yours, a huge smile radiating off of your faces. Gently rising you back up to kiss your forehead softly. Clutching each other with a loving embrace. Your cheek resting on his firm chest feeling it rise and fall. 

 “So…,” he trailed off. “What shall we do next?”

A smirk forming on the corner of your lip you knew exactly what he was hinting at. Placing your palms to his strong chest, leaning up with just a whisper of distance to form the most seductive voice cocking an eyebrow, “If I’m not mistaken, this is where we go upstairs and make our marriage official”

A growl emitting from his chest, eyes forming with lust he didn’t miss a beat and swooped you up bridal style to briskly carry you upstairs towards your shared chamber.

“Say no more, as the saying goes happy wife…...happy life,” he winked at you with that sideways smirk you loved so much.

Exclaiming boldly, you realized, “But wait! What about the candles?!” 

Biting your earlobe gently he growled into your ear.

“Those can wait, for I have more important things to tend too. For I’ve got an appointment with heaven and an angel needs tending to.” Giggling into his steady frame your cheeks flushing the deepest red. It was the best day if your life. 

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