#fic: once upon a dream

[hana-no-seiiki]

sorn from bg3 (the male prostitute drow) is such a mood cause like people always get flustered whenever i use nicknames on them (like baby/sweetheart/etc). i’ve been called all the petnames too (my current favorite being cloudhead/mooncake atm) and those that i date often tell me that it makes their heart stutter when i use those

but on the other hand i get so unbelievably and irrationally flustered n shy when people who don’t usually call me by my name just use ‘yun’ like smiling and butterflies and all augh

and my friends keep calling me out saying i act like a horny/fetishizing/problematic teenager despite having the vanilla fantasies of a victorian woman

SO I WAS THINKING

QUICK YANDERE SOFT PRETTY BOI SEX WORKER BRAINROT??

could be a camboy, host club worker, pornstar, etc. your choice and imagination

Like ya boi who’s whole job it is to fulfill the most depraved fantasies imaginable. Who lived almost his whole life doing all sorts of kinks and fetishes

but absolutely crumbles when you ask him to have sex with him in the missionary position and maybe even the lights off

like he’ll join massive orgies no problem. host/strip for celebrities like it’s no business

but when you ask if you can hold his hand while you two make love. or kiss him gently with all the love in your eyes

he just

he just ceases to function.

you aren’t a regular of his, as much as he hates that fact. but everytime you schedule a meeting with him, he just has this dopey smile on his face and he’ll often uncontrollably giggle and squeal when you hit him up.

he has some pretty rich and dangerous clients

so sometimes he may or may not drug you when you visit him sometimes.

i mean you can’t blame him if your legs are too weak the next morning (or afternoon/evening, this man has stamina) or if you only wanted to have a nice chit chat but suddenly that pink sweater you bought him started to look really nice especially with his even prettier legs exposed like that.

opens up an exclusive rent-a-boyfriend offer but in actuality it’s just you in that list

overall a menace

you know how some of my readers uses yan harem to beat the yan harem

he definitely uses his fans/clients to keep you leashed

besides, no one else can serve you like he can, so might as well stay for some more hm?

[his-lost-one]

should i be asleep? yes. am i? no. so anyway i was thinking about my misophonia and decided to write a pan x reader story where the reader has misophonia. it’s very self indulgent tbh but i needed that, for my soul.

ship: pan x gender neutral!reader

title: eating alone

warnings: none really, but ofc there’ll be talk of misophonia and there’s a happy ending :)

(there are two endings for this, just choose whichever you prefer!)

word count: 1295

(ao3 link)

(fic under the cut)

You had just arrived on Neverland earlier today. It had been maybe 4 hours by now? You couldn’t really be sure, since you had no way to tell the time. However, Felix- the second in command had just given you dreadful news.

Well, dreadful to you. He probably didn’t think much of it. He told you that it‘ll be dinner time in about half an hour.

You hadn’t told anyone on this island yet about your …condition. And you had frankly hoped you wouldn’t have to, but apparently everyone here eats dinner together. At the same time.

And probably not just dinner, but all meals- You just hadn’t been there yet for breakfast and lunch.

From time to time, you almost felt lucky that your trigger sounds were limited to things like eating, drinking, chewing, swallowing and other related sounds. You had heard stories of people with much more common triggers and it made yours seem bearable in comparison- But right now, that is not how you were feeling.

You knew why you were here on Neverland. The shadow brings people who feel lonely, lost or unloved - That’s what you‘d been told. And for you it was clear which one you fit into. Lost. And maybe lonely too.

How could you not feel that way? Misophonia was a cruel fate- A condition most people hadn’t even heard of and just seemingly could never understand no matter how often you tried to explain it. So much socializing happens while people are eating together, and missing out on all of that… how could anyone avoid feeling isolated? It wasn’t fair, but it was something you had to deal with.

You weren’t exactly feeling hopeful that it‘d be different here. At best, maybe you could finish your food fast and then just run away until everyone is done eating. But who knows; apparently Pan can be really strict. What if you’ll be forced to stay until everyone is done? Sounds like horror. Or torture. Maybe both.

You hadn’t met him yet, so you couldn’t be sure, but you really really hoped he would understand at least a little.

You felt a pit in your stomach just at the thought of having to endure dinner, surrounded by countless loud Lost Boys. You trued to suppress a shudder and made your decision in this moment; you couldn’t want until dinnertime actually arrived, you had to find Pan and talk to him now.

Felix seemed to look up to him like some savior; Devin seemed almost afraid of him. You could only hope that Felix was the correct one here.

You walked to the tree with Pan’s treehouse. There was no ladder, since he can apparently just teleport up there and doesn’t need one. Probably useful to keep out unwanted visitors. But your situation was urgent, so you attempted something you’d never done before. You tried to climb up the tree.

You had managed to get up maybe a meter above the ground when a branch broke and you fell down right on your behind. You groaned in annoyance and were about to stand up and try again, when someone, probably Pan, appeared out of thin air in front of you.

“What in the world are you doing?” He looked down at you with a confused expression and one eyebrow raised.

“Pan..?” You asked, just in case he’s not the only one with teleportation powers.

“The one and only. Now, answer the question.”

“Right, right. I needed to talk to you. About dinner.” Your voice was shaky already- This had never been an easy topic to address.

He picked up on the nervousness and laughed as he completely unknowingly misinterpreted it. “Does the cute Lost One want to sit next to me?”

You visibly cringed at that and he immediately looked surprised at that reaction. Most people probably would not have reacted so negatively to the thought of sitting next to him at dinner.

“I have a problem actually.”

“Oh. And what would that be? Don’t tell me you don’t like the food, because that’s not a problem, that can be changed.”

“Oh, you’d be willing to change the food for me?” This had nothing to do with the actual topic, but you were still surprised.

He rolled his eyes before nodding. “Not the food, but your food. I’m a quite skilled magic user, so there are practically no limitations.”

You giggled, you weren’t sure why, but this hint of a willingness to accommodate already made you feel better. “Well, that’s cool, but not what I wanted to talk about. Uhm… Can I maybe eat separately from everyone else?”

He tilted his head to the side a little. “Why would you want that? You’re new here, don’t you want to get to know the others? Socialize?”

“I do, I do actually- But uh… I have misophonia.” You said the last word in a really quiet voice, but he seemed to have understood you anyway.

“Oh. Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” He seemed so nonchalant and he seemed to… know what you’re talking about? How had a guy living on an isolated magical island heard of this when most people around you in your old life hadn’t?

“I don’t know, I didn’t expect you to… understand?” You avoided his gaze nervously.

“Why would I not? I mean, you are the first Lost One with this condition, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t heard of it.”

“So… you’ll allow me to eat alone?” You look up at him, hope in your eyes.

Ending One:

He grinned as he held out a hand to help you up off the ground, where you were still sitting. “I’ll do you one better. I’ll enchant you, so you’ll never be bothered by any sounds again.”

You took his hand almost absentmindedly and looked at him in awe and admiration as he pulled you to your feet in front of him again. “You- you can do that?”

“Didn’t I just tell you? There are almost no limitations to my power, and a spell like that wouldn’t exactly even be difficult. Do you want it?”

You nodded furiously immediately. He smirked again and waved his hand, which was emanating a gentle green glow and for a moment you felt like nothing happened until a sudden, serene feeling of calm washed all over you. And only in this moment had you realized that all of the ambient sounds that hadn’t even been irritating enough to be called trigger were suddenly all neutral and not even a minor annoyance- Hell, some even sounded pleasant now. Like the wind or the birds chirping.

He looked quite smug as he saw the changes in your facial expression. “I take it you like the change?”

Instead of answering you just hugged him. You had never been this grateful for anything in your life- this was the biggest burden you’d ever had, lifted off your shoulders, just like that.

“So about that sitting next to you later, is that still an option?”

He rolled his eyes and nodded softly as he smiled at you. You didn’t notice the slight flush that appeared on his cheeks the moment you hugged him, but you did notice your own cheeks getting a bit warmer as he hugged you back.

Ending Two:

“Of course. Why would I not? I have no use for you being needlessly miserable. I’ll enchant your tent to make it soundproof, that way you’ll really have an escape whenever you need it.

You basically jumped up off the floor and hugged him, gratefully. “Thank you!! Thank you so much! I didn’t think you’d understand!!” The joy and relief in your voice was enough to make even Pan smile as he hesitantly hugged you back.

[avionvadion]

Yana Toboso should just hire me to write for Twisted Wonderland because at this point several things I have written in my fic have become canon so far. 🤣 Also the coincidences are getting ridiculous at this point.

1: Grim scratching the players hands. (I had Grim scratch up El’s hands at the very beginning of the fic, and she had scars ever since)

2: You have to seperate Overblotter from the Overblot Monsters. (El pulled Riddle away from the monster so it wouldn’t absorb him)

3: Malleus’ mood and magic changes the weather. (I had written a short story where his bad mood caused a storm, and had it rain in the main fic.)

4: Malleus’ mom is named Meleanor. (My OC who is paired with Malleus is named Eleanora.)

5: Meleanor laid a curse/blessing on Malleus that would make all humans fear him, but the fae revere him. (In a past life, Eleanora, who had been a boy named Ellis, had been cursed by Maleficent.)

6: Lilia had believed himself incapable of love, rough and coarse and having seen way too much bloodshed, but ended up being the one to hatch Malleus and wake Silver- both things being possible only through love. (El has an avoidance to relationships due to all the horrible things she’s seen in her world and doesn’t trust people because of it, but has gained strong feelings for Malleus and trusts him immensely.)

Like?????

Yana, please, I beg you, hire me.

[96crewlove]

chapter two is up ⭐️ please show it love <3

[kazoosandfannypacks]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

Open to Interpretation- This one's about Captain Swan and art, two things I'm very passionate about!

Wildflowers- It's simple, sweet, just the right length- and who doesn't love libraries and flowers, with just the right blend of situational comedy? I also loved the time I took to research different kinds of flowers for this one. Plus, it's August and Belle. What more can I say?

Operation Lunchbreak- This was the first OUaT fic I finished and posted. I loved being able to explore Killian and Henry's father/son dynamic, (and pepper in a bit of Captain Swan as well)

Dreams of Adventure- This one was one of my favorite Tangled fics I wrote. It was fun to play around with an au where Rapunzel and Eugene grew up as royals but still ended finding each other and falling in love 💜

How The Vicar Says "I Told You So"- I love being able to write fanfic for The Shuttle by Burnett, partly because the whole readerbase is already used to big, flowery, flowy, lofty language, but also because it was such an influential book for me, so I'm blessed to have the opportunity to give back to it, in a way.

Thanks for the ask, beloved!

[the-darklings]

in part 1 of x is the “here in the darkness” like an insight into how wanderer was cursed or does it directly have to do with dream being trapped? just curious about how wanderer reacted to it! this is genuinely the greatest collections of literature i’ve read in a while and just wanted to let you know how much i’m loving it!!

both 👀

[mira--mira]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Naruto Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara Characters: Senju Hashirama, Uchiha Madara Additional Tags: HashiMada Week 2023, Sharingan, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Genjutsu, Worldbuilding, Pre-Village Founding, Love Confessions, First Kiss Series: Part 5 of HashiMada Week 2023 Summary:

“You know, I’ve never met anyone who likes being in a genjutsu as much as you do,” Madara says as they sit on their cliff and stare out at the world. The faintest red tint at the edge of Hashirama’s vision and the bustling village below are the obvious markers that this isn’t reality.

Day 5: Sharingan for @hashimada-week

[arianatwycross]

Chapter 3

continue reading below or read on AO3 here

“Told you he liked you.”

Lily rolls her eyes. 

“Just because I made him blush, doesn’t mean he likes me still.”

“But it does.”

Lily groans, pulling herself from the floor and giving Mary another exasperated look. 

“Who likes who?” Dorcas interrupts. 

Lily groans once again. 

“Lily fancies-” 

“Nope! Not here Mare.” Lily chastises, her tone grave. 

Mary just smiles. 

The common room is not as full as it could be - being a free period for a few seventh years, there’s only a handful of them milling around. 

“Who do you fancy?” Dorcas whispers theatrically, sitting on the edge of the sofa behind Lily. 

“I don’t fancy anyone.”

Mary laughs. 

Before Dorcas can interrogate Lily, the boys wander in - loud and distracting. Lily’s eyes instantly travel to James. He’s taken off his jumper - recently, she deduces but the way his hair sticks up haphazardly. His shirt sleeves have been rolled up and she clocks his forearms straight away - she inwardly groans. 

“Oh,” Dorcas whispers behind her. 

Lily swivels around on the floor to question her oh but finds her looking at James and then back to Lily with a twinkle in her eye. 

Lily just rolls her eyes again. 

“Evans!” Sirius calls out when he spots her. She raises an eyebrow in response. 

“James is going to go for a fly this afternoon, wanna join him? I know how much you love watching him fly.”

Lily should have expected this. She can either rise to his torment, let him embarrass her, or - agree. 

“Ok.” She shrugs, pulling her hair into a ponytail. 

James watches her movement with his mouth wide open, Sirius laughs at Lily’s blase response, Remus walks into the back of James and Peter blinks curiously at the group now standing oddly in the middle of the common room. 

“Wait, what?” James finally says. 

“I don’t mind watching, I need some air anyway.” She manages to say it calmly, however, her heart beats dramatically in her chest. 

“Oh. Ok, cool.” James says, his hands flying to his hair, his eyes darting to Sirius and Remus. 

She cooly watches Remus whisper something into James's ear and Sirius slaps his best mate on the back.

“I just need to get changed.” He says, briefly looking at her before darting up the stairs. 

The entire group bursts into laughter and Lily feels strangely like the butt of a joke. 

She frowns, watching her friends laugh. Mary wiggles her eyebrows at her, making Lily swat her hand away from her ponytail. 

“You want to wear my coat? It makes your eyes pop.” Mary offers. 

Lily stands, brushing down her skirt, smoothing the crinkles. She ignores her friend for all of one minute before she nods and says thanks. 

Surprisingly, it's not awkward between them as they walk down to the pitch. Whatever James did while getting ready, alleviated the tension she saw in his shoulders just ten minutes before. Instead, James seems quite giddy. He’s put on a dark blue hoodie - the aura of cosiness makes Lily feel something almost uncomfortable - too much. He’s got a kick in his step as he leads them to the back of the castle, telling Lily about his previous training session the day before. The one she watched. 

She’s always been entranced with the way he tells stories - an aspect of his personality that she previously tried to ignore but James is the type of person to capture someone's interest whether they wanted it or not. 

She laughs as he describes the way a fourth-year student by the name of Betty, flung herself through one of the goalposts in an attempt to get away from a rogue bludger. She takes the opportunity to touch his shoulder when they pass through a crown of sixth years near the pitch, the action coming naturally to her. She notices a slight pause on James' behalf as her hand touches his jumper, but he gracefully takes a hold of her arm and pulls her through the throng of students. 

They stay touching like that the entire way, brief elbow touches, him guiding her by the back, her smiling as he talks - it’s more intimate than they’ve ever been and it's thrilling. 

He leaves her by the gate towards the pitch as he goes to pick up his broomstick. It's cold outside that afternoon, grey clouds cover the large pitch, making the green of the grass seem dull. She wraps her scarf around her neck tighter, trapping her ponytail and fringe. James appears suddenly, shocking her from her stupor. He chuckles but doesn’t speak as he pulls her fringe from her scarf with two fingers. She watches intently as his eyes track his fingers. Lily can physically feel the air thicken around the two of them, her entire body electrified by just a small touch -that small moment fuelling her need and vanishing her doubts towards him. She knows it could be good between them. 

[nyandereneko]

An Open Fire

Word Count: 553 Summary: “Nova buried her face against his shoulder in response; she couldn’t think of anything better to do. Arcanum simply smiled.” Author’s Note: I found another prompt list and I’ve decided to play around with it for December, thank you for reading as always!

*****

Flickering tendrils of popping, crackling flames danced and swayed from within the protective maw of the hearth’s ornate mantle. Nova observed the mesmerizing display intently from where she was perched on the couch as the sight reflected brightly in her dark eyes, seemingly unable to tear her gaze from it. The incessant snaps and cracks of splintering, charring wood spurred a flick of her ear here and a twitch of her tail there, involuntary tics that carried on as she admired the blaze in silence, entranced. 

“Tea’s ready!”

The sudden intrusion of that familiar voice as it pierced her flame-fueled stupor summarily rattled her out of it. Blinking a few times as her vision and thoughts came back into focus, the woman anchored her gaze on the individual to whom the intrusive voice belonged. She could never find his voice intrusive to any degree, though, could never find his words tedious or tiring. Because to Nova everything about Arcanum was a soothing balm that she could trust to temper and smooth her patchwork, sandpaper heart.

“Thank you, it was really nice of you to prepare this.”

“Nonsense, it’s my pleasure,” they replied with a wink and an affectionate peck to her cheek, setting the elegant teacups down before following suit themself. 

There was an irresistible quality to his voice that made Nova blush just to hear it sometimes. She counted herself lucky that in this case she had a number of excuses to choose from should the need arise, from the infectious heat of the fire to the blooming warmth of the tea she cautiously began to sip. His very being was her principal distraction now, and she did her best to keep her mischievous thoughts from getting away from her as she savored the rich flavor that tickled her tongue.

“Really, it’s my pleasure to spend time with you like this,” she countered, cozying up to his side as his arm adjusted to accommodate her. He chuckled as her ear brushed his jaw, warm lips caressing the fur he found there as a deepening blush simmered and spread just beneath her skin. “You’re always so nice to me. Too nice to me.”

“Shh. Nonsense,” xe counseled, pressing a chiding finger to her lips that only served to muddle xyr mind in much the same way xe often manipulated hers, consciously or not. “Now, was there anything specific you wanted to watch today?”

She wanted to argue, but she knew she couldn’t. Instead, she took another sip of her steaming brew and laid claim to his lap with her legs and glittering tail. He took to petting them and she purred and nestled against his chest, mulling the options over as his rhythmic touch tamed her restless anxiety. The sounds from the fire were less disruptive, less noticeable as the air calmed around her; the warmth from both the room and his body enveloped her like a cocoon. 

“We can decide in a second,” she whispered, eyes fluttering shut. “Right now, I just want to appreciate this moment.”

“That sounds wonderful to me,” he replied as his cheek met the top of her head. “Every moment with you is worth savoring, after all.”

Nova buried her face against his shoulder in response; she couldn’t think of anything better to do. Arcanum simply smiled.

[dreamlandcreations]

Imagine being Robert's sister and Eames falling for you on the job

You remember him. He flirted with you before the take off.

None of them knew Robert had someone to train his unconsciousness and they certainly didn't expect you to be better at it.

Inception was nearly impossible, double-inception in a shared dream was never intended but like this, it was truly hopeless.

The even bigger problem was that you couldn't wake up. None of you. So it was up to the charmer to gain your trust.

They put him under with you separately but all his tricks failed and he knew the others were running out of time so he tried something he never had before. He told you the truth.

Though the method was not up to your liking, you agreed to help them because you believed it would benefit Rob to fix the relationship with your awful father as he so desperately wanted it while the man lived.

When you woke up, confused and disoriented Eames' heart skipped a beat, afraid that you forgot the dream. And him.

Your gaze locked with his before he sighed in relief at the slow recognition he witnessed in your widening eyes.

You remember him. He flirted with you before the take off.

Then all of a sudden a rush of memories flood your mind, and your eyes flicker to his sinfully full lips as you remember that almost kiss that still has you yearning. Your cheeks heat under his stare and you have to look away at the knowing smirk this beautiful bastard is giving you.

[haveanotherkpopblog]

Once Upon a Dream

Preview

Pairing(s): Byun Baekhyun x Fem!Reader, Park Chanyeol x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Drama, Fluff, Royalty!AU

Word Count: 1.2K

Warnings: Mild Language

Masterlist

Once upon a time, in a far away land known as Ellesmere, there sat a palace. The palace sat tucked into a mountain side, watching over the whole kingdom from its perch. Red, black and gold covered the ceiling, walls, and tables inside the palace. Nobles and courtiers danced around the ballroom as beautiful music mingled with their laughter and talking, creating a harmony you could only wish to hear. Whispers flew through their ears of bets on who the Prince, whom the ball was being held for, would choose as his bride, his future queen.

The doors to the ballroom swung open and two of the contending ladies stepped through. One of noble breeding, the other from a humble background. They made their way down the steps, arms interlocked as the music swirled around them. One turned to the other, a rueful smile on her face as she took in her competitor, her friend’s, appearance.

“You look so beautiful. The Prince won’t be able to keep his eyes off of you,” she said, a bittersweet tone to her voice as she bowed her head. She smoothed the creases of her dark green dress. It shimmered under the pale light of the chandeliers with every step or turn she took. Her dark curls sat high on her head, kept out of her face unlike her usual mane that bounced without restriction.

“Ha!” A cold, chilling laugh turned the pair’s attention towards yet another competitor. A young woman stepped up to them, her fiery gaze upon them. Danger and power radiated off her like heat from the sun. She wore a dark purple with light grey undertones. Her violet hair sat in a pristine bun at the nape of neck. She looked every bit the noble lady she’d been raised to be.

“He might like the way she looks, but when it comes to choosing his future queen, he knows who’ll be able to handle ruling at his side.” The humble maiden smiled a sweet, genuine smile that stabbed the miser’s heart.

“May the best woman win,” she said. The purple-haired noble pursed her lips, looking down her nose. She spared the other lady a fleeting glance before she gave a smile back.

“I plan to.” She turned on her heel and marched away, her hips swaying with each step. The women shook their heads as they watched her walk away.

A loud trumpet blared, drawing their attention to where the herald would be announcing the Prince’s arrival. Their hearts pounded in the chests as the realization dawned on them fully that tonight was the night that lives would be changed, for better or worse. Sweat formed on the brow of the fair maiden as she did her best to steady her breath.

“Here he comes.”

The Prince, young and handsome, stopped before the ladies, offering them each a deep bow. His brown locks, usually free to bounce and dangle as they pleased, had been combed into a perfect side part, giving him the usual Prince Charming glow. He turned to the humble maiden, entranced at how her eyes shone like diamonds under the soft light of the chandeliers.

“May I request this dance?” he inquired.

“Absolutely.” She bowed, slipping her hand into his waiting hand with a smile.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He gave her a grin, leading her to the center of the ballroom.

Another waltz began, and they glided around with complete grace. The other nobles and guests seemed to disappear while time stood still between as they gazed into each other’s eyes. Her gown swirled around them with each twirl as she glided through each step with practiced ease, as if she’d been dancing her whole life.

“Just to think, a few months ago, I didn’t know the first steps to a waltz,” she mused with a thoughtful smile.

“And now no one would ever know that you weren’t born into this life,” the Prince replied. His face grew solemn the longer he stared at her. “I hope you never regret coming here.”

“Why would you say that?” she asked, surprised.

“Well, so much has happened and…” The Prince trailed off as the song began to wind down. Yet, the Prince could not bear to pull himself away from her--not quite yet. “I need to talk to you.”

“Is everything alright?” she asked, her heart beating out of control at six simple words. The Prince sighed.

“It’s been impossible to get even a moment alone with you these last few days, but I need to know--”

“Ahem!” Both she and the Prince jumped. They looked over to see the purple-haired nobel. She didn’t spare the young maiden a glance as she batted her eyelashes at the Prince. “Your Highness, may I be so bold as to cut in?”

“Oh, of course,” the Prince said, startled, and somewhat disappointed. The young maiden placed a soft and delicate hand on his elbow.

“We’ll talk later,” she assured him.

“Yes.”

As the Prince glided away, the young maiden made her way to the side of the ballroom, where she spotted a familiar and comforting face. He stood brooding against the wall, his arms folded over his chest as he took in his surroundings. When he spotted the young maiden, his jaw hit the ground. He called to her, unable to believe his own eyes. She let out a gentle laugh, surprised as well.

“I didn’t know you’d be here tonight,” she said. Servants of the palace walked by them, holding trays with savory food that tickled their noses. She snatched an hor d’oeuvre off a passing tray, popping it into her mouth before others had the chance to see. He nodded his head towards the Prince, oblivious to her previous actions.

“He insisted.” He turned to look at the young maiden. “I guess I should congratulate you.” The young maiden turned her head, furrowing her brows. “You look exactly like one of them. I guess you are one of them, now.” His face darkened as he turned away from her. “This time tomorrow, you might be the future queen. And then our lives are going in very different directions.”

The young maiden followed his gaze to the dance floor. The music was swelling as the guests laughed and drank with each other. Courtly gossip and political satire circled through them like water in a noria. She gave a soft smile, using a gentle hand to turn his attention back to her.

“If I’m chosen as the Prince’s bride, I’ll still be me,” she said. He gave her a rueful smile, looking down at her dress.

“Looking at you now, it’s hard to believe that.” His face turned serious once again, staring off past her shoulder at nothing in particular. “This place has a way of changing people, and some of us liked the girl you used to be. You know that, right?”

“I promise, I’m still the same me, even under this fancy ball gown.” She started grinning, nudging him with her shoulder. “If I ever get too cocky, just remind me that the first time we met, I was taking out garbage and waiting tables.” He laughed, shaking his head.

“Feels like so long ago, now. Can’t believe it’s only been a few months.

“Yeah, but after everything that’s happened, it feels more like…”

[darling-archeron]

Once Upon a Dream - Part Three

Rated M.

Complete Masterlist | Fic Masterlist

Human huntress Feyre Archeron has always been practical. She stays focused on keeping her family alive, and she avoids the superstitions of the High Fae altogether. But when Feyre begins to have nightly visits from a stranger, she cannot keep her focus from slipping. If she’s not careful, her dreams may become something all too real. Something - or someone - she cannot turn away from.

The dining room is cavernous, darkly lit, and yet Rhysand doesn’t look shrunk down by the space. No, he is imposing as ever. King of the Darkness. As she sits across from his imposing figure, Feyre tries to stay calm.

It’s only dinner. Just a simple meal.

What would her sisters do in her shoes?

Elain’s method is always to smooth things over her with carefully crafted words. The idea seems preposterous here. What would she even say?

So, Lord Rhysand, tell me about yourself. What are your hobbies besides stalking people’s dreams and kidnapping?

Nesta would likely have tried to murder him thrice over by now or be well on her way to devising an escape plan. The first one has failed Feyre, and she hasn’t had enough exposure to her surroundings to develop the second.

Rhysand is still watching her.

“You haven’t touched your food,” he says.

“I’m not hungry.”

“When did you last eat?”

It’s been nearly a day, and longer than that since anything truly substantial, but that’s not the point.

“It’s not poisoned if that’s your concern. I wouldn’t go through all this trouble with you just to kill you.”

“What a relief,” she mutters, the words slipping out before she can think.

His groomed eyebrows shoot up. “What was that?”

“It’s good of you to relieve my concerns,” she grinds out. “Otherwise, I might die of fear.”

He smiles, wicked all the way through. “I suspect it would take a great deal more than that to kill you, huntress.”

Play his game, she reminds herself. In the candlelight, the wicked edges of his appearance have softened slightly, and she tells herself he is just another man. The shadows still dance off him, playing at his back like they might form wings. One black-taloned hand curls around a crystal wine glass, gently enough not to shatter. A few locks of silky hair have fallen into his finely-wrought face, completing a portrait of intensity she doesn’t think she could paint.

Just another man.

“I’ll eat this course if you answer my questions honestly, and swear the food will not harm me or bind me to this land.”

“You want to bargain?” This seems to amuse him, and he crosses his long legs, leaning back in the stiff chair. “Alright, then. I’ll swear, and I’ll answer a question – but only one.”

“Make it five.”

“And what do you intend to do if I refuse? Starve?”

“I have plenty of experience going hungry, my lord.”

He frowns. “Two questions.”

“Three,” she insists.

Rhysand looks more exasperated than anything when he agrees. “On my honor – the food before you will not harm you in mind, body, or soul. Nor will it bind you to my territories. Ask your questions.”

She thinks it over for a moment, planning out the wording of her first question. “For what purpose, specifically, have you brought me to Prythian, and what will it entail?

“Haven’t I already answered that? I have brought you to live out a peaceful life. I wish for you to live alongside me in the Night Court, as one of us. You will not suffer and will be treated as a queen. You will never have to go out in the woods to hunt and suffer again.”

Feyre digs her nails into her exposed thighs. More answers that didn’t answer anything at all. “And if I do not wish to live alongside you in the Night Court, and to be treated as a queen?”

“It is not my intention to deny you. But you won’t say that once you understand what binds us, and what I’m offering you.” He says it with such certainty that it sends shivers down her spine. He truly believes he will see her to immortality.

Although, after the fear fades, she feels anger rushing back in. Who is he to assume her desires, think he can change her mind? An arrogant, entitled prick. Nothing so different from the humans she’s dealt with.

She still has a chance. She just has to be ready to run before he can complete whatever dark magic he has planned.

“What is it that you say binds us, or will bind us?”

She makes a conscious effort not to fidget or prod as he stews in silence for much longer than before.

“We are bound by ties that my people treasure above all else. I did not tether us together – the groundwork was laid by powers mightier than me. And the tethers have not reached their full strength. They are silk, not stone.”

It’s ridiculously vague, but she has a feeling that pushing won’t get her anywhere. He watches her with a gaze of iron.

“Are you satisfied, Feyre?”

“How can I be, when you deny me everything I truly want to know?”

Judging by the huff of air he lets out, he might be amused. But all Rhysand says is, “When the time comes, you will be denied nothing. Eat.”

Tentatively, she examines the plate in front of her, still turning over his words. Rhysand has forgone a salad or an appetizer and gone directly to the main course. Her plate consists of an unfamiliar grilled meat, with generous helpings of vegetables she doesn’t recognize either.

She cuts a small portion of the meat and finds it tender. Takes a bite.

Nothing happens. No blinding pain, no taste of a poison, no shackles around her legs.

Rhysand appears to have been true to his word because she doesn’t feel any different.

The food is delicious, though. Uniquely spiced and with unfamiliar flavors.

She takes another bite and realizes that she is starving. She could be delicate and eat like a lady, but why should she?

Her captor takes a slow swig of wine and watches as she scarfs down every last bite.

Her own glass remains untouched, and he notices.

“A toast,” he says, raising his glass, dark liquid sloshing inside. “To you, Feyre darling.”

She has a butter knife in front of her, and she wonders if she could aim it decently from here. He would flick it away before it touched him, but she could still get some satisfaction out of throwing it.

“I don’t like alcohol,” she lies instead. The number one rule of the fae: don’t drink their wine. She might have eaten the food, but at least she got answers out of it. This, however, is one rule she will not be so quick to throw that one aside, especially after a toast like that.

“Pity. It’s deliciously spiced.”

When her plate is cleared, servants come to clear the meal away, though it looks as if Rhysand has barely eaten. She expects another full course in a place like this, but the next thing they bring out is a creamy-looking cake topped with berries and some kind of fruit sauce. Strawberry slices, blueberries, pomegranate seeds.

It’s been ages since her family was able to afford such expensive fruits. Eagerly, she cuts a bite-sized piece off her plate but stops short.

Why was the wine so dangerous? Because it was made of faerie fruit.

And Rhysand had only sworn for the safety of the food in the first course. Not the wine, not the dessert.

She lets her fork clatter back onto the plate, suddenly glad for the specific wording of her earlier bargain.

“Actually, I don’t think I’m hungry.”

There’s no change in his pleasant expression as he abruptly rises. It almost makes her think the cake was fine after all.

“If that’s the case, my court is waiting.”

Feyre stands up straight and tries to keep her knees from wobbling.

Play his game.

Rhysand takes her by the arm, and then they’re gone into the smoke and dark.

They reappear, and Feyre wonders if Rhysand ever walks anywhere. It’s a clever way of keeping her in the dark about her location and showing off his power all in one.

This time, they’re in a dimly lit ballroom. She has foggy memories of her family’s own ballroom back when her father was the prince of merchants, but this is nothing like that. The room is entirely lit by floating balls of light bobbing above the heads of the partygoers. The floor is grand, made of sprawling black and white marble. Pillars spike high in the air, meeting with the grand domed ceiling.

In the cavernous space, every sound is amplified, and every set of eyes in the room turns to them as she and Rhysand appear in the doorway.

He is unbothered by the attention, practically preening it as he surveys everyone with vague disinterest. Feyre wishes she could say the same for herself, she can feel the heat rise in her cheeks. Everyone’s eyes are magnetically drawn to Rhysand first, but she is the more curious of the two. A novelty with her human ears, by the looks of it. She quickly scans the room as much as she dares and sees no other humans, only fae.

They’re all varying shades of frightening in the same way Rhysand is. They’re clothed in dark colors, many of them with wings and talons, and horns. Even the ones that don’t still have arched ears and an immortal glow about them. The metallic stench of magic is stronger than ever.

No, there is certainly no pretending that she is in a human court.

Without a word, Rhys continues on into the room. He has let go of her arm, but the illusion of choice is just that – an illusion. If she didn’t follow him, where would she go?

So she continued a few steps behind him, feeling like she is being led. In her chest, her heart flutters like a hummingbird set aflight.

They approach a dais with a large, carved black throne atop it. Rhysand climbs the steps and sits in a smooth motion. Feyre uncertainly lingers at the base of the steps; aware everyone is still staring at her.

The last bit of calm thought flies out of her head when Rhysand crooks a finger, and she watches as his shadows spill out from him and reach towards her, wrapping around her arms as sure as his grip and leading her up the dais. Her legs are shaking, and it takes concentration to direct her feet and not twist an ankle going up the few stairs.

When she arrives at the top, Rhys reaches out for her and wraps an arm around her waist, easily pulling her into his lap. The shadows recede back into their host.

“You said you wanted to see my world,” he croons into her ear.

That had been the ploy of a much braver woman. Now, she feels like a doll, limbs stiff against him, refusing to lean back or make herself comfortable in any sense of the word. It feels too much like giving in.

The crowd still watches her, but she stares straight ahead. She said she would play his game, but being so close to him -

A doll, indeed.

He doesn’t release his hand from her waist but makes no move to explore more skin either.

Eventually, the court loses interest and goes back to their revelry. From her vantage point on the throne, Feyre has a good view of the whole room. Platters of food large enough to feed her family for a week line a long banquet table, but nobody is eating. Several faeries are dancing to the wild music in the center of the room, and the rest are scattered around the edges, gossiping in their little groups.

That part is not so different from what she remembers of human balls.

The minutes tick by with Feyre resisting the urge to speak to Rhysand. Curiosity shows weakness, and he has already shown himself unwilling to provide any answer that makes sense.

A new, lively song begins from the quartet of musicians in the corner, and she feels Rhysand’s breath at her ear.

“Relax. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

She does no such thing, and he chuckles.

“I don’t blame you for being afraid. But look around you, darling. Do you see anyone suffering?”

“They’re all your court. Of course, they’re content in their ways. Take me to your dungeons and show me how your prisoners are being treated, and then maybe I’ll believe it.”

“Why? So you can prove I stack up to your human morals? I am not offering you a place among my prisoners. I am offering you my throne.”

Offering her his throne – a peculiar, romanticized way of coercing her to sleep with him. She doesn’t know what to say to it, so she stays silent, hoping he’ll lose interest.

It wouldn’t be so bad, to share a bed with him, she considered. She hadn’t been wrong when she thought him the most handsome man she had laid eyes on.

But she does not belong here.

Staying silent to avoid his attention works in the sense that he keeps his hands to himself for the most part. One is curved chastely around the crook of her waist, the other holding a goblet of wine that is kept full by watchful handmaidens. Like the servants from earlier, they are clothed in simple black dresses and veiled so that only their eyes pierce through.

Hours pass by, and she waits for Rhysand’s next move, but he pays little attention to her. Various courtiers come to approach him. Based on the parts of the conversations that Feyre understands, she gleans that Rhysand has not been to court for some time.

Several couples come forward, kneeling before him and asking for his blessing in approving their marriages. Someone who must be part of his military approaches him and complains about issues on their southern border.

Rhysand blesses the marriages, but waves the military man away with a bored hand. “We’ll discuss it later. Tonight isn’t a night for military strategizing.”

What is it a night for?

He hasn’t shown any inclination to join the revel, nor has he replaced her with one of the fluttery women hovering around him, practically begging to be pulled into his lap. Rhysand clearly is the desired man, but he only looks bored. His hand does not move from his place on her waist.

Eventually, the party dies down. Once the courtiers realize their High Lord has no intention to join in their celebrations, the numbers on the dance floor whittle down until only the ones truly drunk and oblivious on the wine remain. A wave of Rhys’s hand finally silences the music. The last few faeries cease their revel, stumbling out.

She is left alone with him again.

-

AN: I uploaded this to ao3 but completely forgot about tumblr??? my apologies! I hope you enjoyed this installment. :)

taglist: @thron3ofbooks @the-lonelybarricade @swankii-art-teacher @highladysith @ghostlyrose2  @brieq @cretaceous-therapod @live-the-fangirl-life @achernarlight @reverie-tales​

please let me know if you would like to be added or removed!

[dewitty1]

Once Upon a (Wet) Dream

InnerLilith

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, minor Roger Davies/Draco Malfoy Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood Additional Tags: Mildly Dubious Consent, see a/n for more detail, Brief Mention of Past Dreamless Sleep Addiction, Sectumsempra Scars (Harry Potter), Werewolf Harry Potter, Jealousy, Possessive Harry Potter, Pining, Mutual Pining, excessive blushing, Tender Feelings, Banter, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Shameless Smut, Wet Dream, Dreamsharing, Dream Sex, Voyeurism, Masturbation, Dildos, Tentacle Sex, Sounding, Lingerie, Dirty Talk, Sexual Inexperience, First Time, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Rimming, Praise Kink, Scent Kink, Come Eating, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Post-Second Wizarding War with Voldemort (Harry Potter), H/D Erised 2022

Summary:

Once a year, Harry has a very strange dream. Meanwhile, in real life, he’s falling for Draco Malfoy.

Excerpt:

“You call me Harry, sometimes. In your dreams.”

Malfoy’s throat works around a soft sound, fingers covering his mouth.

“Do you want—” Harry tries again. “Draco, do you want those things—with me—"

Draco looks at him. “Harry,” he says, sounding raw and scraped open.

Harry vaults across the countertop, skidding across the floor towards him, stopping short with barely an inch between their bodies.

“Can I touch you?”

“Please,” Draco whispers, and Harry surges forward.

He presses their bodies together, doesn’t even kiss Draco, at first, just buries his face in the side of Draco’s neck, breathes in the scent of him. He finds Draco’s thudding jugular, nuzzles there, whispering pleas and praises into the soft hollow behind Draco’s ear. Draco whimpers and brings his fingers to tangle into the hair at the back of Harry’s neck.

And then finally they’re kissing, Draco’s mouth opening just for Harry, even sweeter than he had imagined.

The bell over the door dings.

Draco pushes Harry off, frantically smoothing his hair and tugging his robes into place. Every nerve in Harry’s body is screaming at him not to stop, to keep kissing Draco, sod the customers, but he forces himself to take a step back.

“Oh…Are you two dating, then?”

Harry turns around. It’s Roger Davies, smirking.

“Yes,” Harry says fiercely, the word tugged from deep within him.

Draco makes a dazed sound behind him and Harry turns, realising they haven’t actually established that.

“I mean—” he starts.

Draco looks shell shocked, staring at Harry like he’s completely off his rocker, which he probably is.

“I mean, Draco—”

“Yes,” Draco says, still looking right at Harry. “Yes, I suppose that’s an accurate assessment of the situation.”

Harry’s chest swells up, the blood singing through his veins, the wolf wanting to throw its head back and howl in triumph and delight. He’s got Draco back against the wall again before he’s even realised he had started moving, mouthing at Draco’s neck.

“Harry—” Draco hisses, grabbing at him and manoeuvring them towards the door, “Wait—wait, just wait back here—"

He shoves Harry into the storeroom.

Alone, Harry prowls restlessly between rows of boxes while Davies pays for his potions. When the bell jingles again he whirls around as Draco slips into the storeroom, shutting the door and pressing himself back against it, looking at Harry as though he expects to be pounced on again.

Harry winces. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—put you on the spot like that, or, you know, throw myself on you—”

Draco stares at him. “Harry,” he says, low and desperate. “Do you have any idea how much I don’t mind—?” He sucks in a quick breath.

“Maybe—” Harry takes a step forward. “Maybe you could tell me?”

Draco’s throat works. “Surely, you must know—you must know by now that I’m—"

Harry’s breath catches in his throat, a quiet whine. “You’re what?”

“I’m—” Draco gestures helplessly between them. “I’m— How can I—” He looks at Harry pleadingly.

Harry feels like he’s in a dream again, all the blood beating hot through his brain, his tongue thick and swollen, his heart throbbing and raw. He looks at Draco there, the familiar, dear, shape of him, and he wants—

“Are you mine?”

Draco sags against the door. “Yes,” he says. “Yes, I’m yours.”

₍՞◌′ᵕ‵ू◌₎♡

[akirakirxaa]

“get off them!” For Solus/Valeria?

[Prompt list here! Funny I got this one, I'd actually been playing with a kidnapping plot for their story cause despite my distaste for damsels in distress I also love the 'touch her and I'll kill you' trope so. In the interest of not being too long, Valeria has been kidnapped by some resistance fighters from Bozja who intended to torture her for military information. Due to themes of torture reader discretion advised. Enjoy!]

Valeria's whole world had narrowed down to pain, pain, pain. She'd given up counting the scrapes, cuts, bruises, and burns littering her skin. The night shift she'd been taken in was little more than tattered rags, stained by sweat, dirt, and blood. Though she was locked securely in a windowless room, she was also chained to the wall, shackles on her wrists keeping her upright on her tip toes when all she wanted to do was rest. Her right arm twinged with agony every time she tried to move it, so she tried to lift herself with just her other arm by the chains to keep weight off the right.

Her tormentor from the past several days, a huge hrothgar who's name she still didn't know, grabbed her by the throat, lifting her enough that she couldn't quite reach the floor. She scrabbled for the chain, trying to lift herself enough to breathe.

"I told you, I'm not involved with...military..." she rasped out. She'd lost count of how many times she'd told her captors that she didn't attend military meetings with her husband, she didn't know where their troops were stationed or battle strategies.

"Then there's no reason to keep you, is there?" he snarled at her, eyes full of disgust, and she knew he wasn't talking about letting her go home. She kicked out at him, but days of no food and limited water left her with little strength to fight him off.

"If you value your life, I would suggest getting off her." For a moment, Valeria thought she was hallucinating, but as her captor turned to face the voice, she was able to look past to see Solus standing in the doorway, an entourage of soldiers behind him and face cold with murderous intent. The hrothgar squeezed his hand more tightly, and somewhere beyond the blood roaring in her ears she heard the distinct sound of a gunshot, and her tormentor collapsed. Before she could gasp for breath though, white fire lanced up her right arm as she fell limply against her chains, and she only distantly recognized the screech of agony that ripped from her own throat.

"Secure him on the airship. I'll deal with him personally when we've returned," Solus ordered coldly, glaring down at the hrothgar in disdain as the former torturer clutched at his bleeding knee and growled his pain through grit teeth. The emperor strode past him, smoothly stooping briefly to take the key from the man's hip, before attending to his injured wife.

"I'm sorry it took so long to find you," he murmured, just for her ears, as he braced her against himself, one hand keeping pressure on her back while his other worked to free her hands from their shackles. As he worked, she buried her face in his shoulder and no matter how much she wanted to act like she was fine, now that she was safe the sobs welled up and escaped without her permission.

Once she was free he carefully wrapped her in his coat, the warmth reminding her how cold the room was, a cold she'd become numb to when everything else was worse. Solus scooped her up in his arms and where she normally would protest that she could walk just fine thank you very much, now she clung to him like a lifeline, good hand gripping his shirt while she shrank into his coat, as if to hide from anyone that might see her in such a state. She was only vaguely aware of how badly she was shaking.

He murmured quiet assurances to her, paying little attention to the soldiers escorting them back to the airship, and in her state she didn't see the furious flames blazing in his eyes.

[96crewlove]

my first mdzs fic on ao3 ⭐️ please show it love <3

[littlereds-fanfictions]

Once Upon A Dream

Nesta Archaeon and Gwyneth Berdara have been friends since childhood with Nesta as a lady and Gwyn her doting maid. But when it’s discovered Gwyn is the, believed to be dead, daughter of a noble, the two are torn from each other.

Gwyn must find her way through a noble world she never knew. And Nesta must find her way back to her friend's side all while trying to avoid pernicious suitors and keeping her sisters safe. But when a certain Duke catches her attention and she catches his and Gwyn gets caught up in a strange whirlwind romance and possible arranged engagement, the two friends discover new things and possible new romances all while finding their way back to each other