Multifandom One-shots

88. Beneath the Curse - The Beast/Adam x reader (Beauty and the Beast)

In a quaint village nestled on the edge of an ancient, enchanted forest, resided a young writer named Y/N. The village exuded an aura of fairy tale charm with its cobblestone streets and picturesque cottages. Lanterns flickered gently outside homes, casting a warm, golden glow that danced on the cobblestones, while the sweet scent of blooming roses mingled with the earthy aroma of freshly baked bread from the local bakery.

Amongst the villagers, murmurs circulated about a mysterious castle concealed deep within the forest, weaving an air of mystique into the community. This castle, shrouded in legend, was said to be home to a cursed prince, a figure both feared and pitied.

These tales, filled with whispered secrets and shadowed corridors, captivated Y/N's imagination. It painted vivid pictures in their mind of the forlorn prince who wandered its halls, veiled in sorrow and longing for redemption.

Each day, Y/N would perch by the window of their cozy home, quill in hand, crafting page upon page of fantastical tales. The room was a sensory haven: stacks of parchment exuded a faint scent of aged paper, ink bottles gleamed with potential, and well-loved books filled the air with the musty aroma of well-thumbed pages. Outside, the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant song of birds provided a soothing soundtrack to their creative endeavors.

The forest that skirted the village inspired both wonder and trepidation. Its towering trees, with leaves that whispered secrets in the wind, and winding paths, carpeted with a lush, green moss that felt soft underfoot, beckoned with the promise of hidden secrets. Despite venturing to its edge numerous times, Y/N hesitated to delve deeper, their curiosity tempered by caution. The forest smelled of pine and damp earth, a scent that was both invigorating and intimidating.

Amidst the village's hustle and bustle, one figure stood out—Gaston. Handsome and charismatic yet steeped in arrogance, Gaston commanded attention with his tales of strength and charm. His booming laughter echoed through the streets, mingling with the clink of tankards in the local tavern, and his presence stirred a mixture of admiration and skepticism among the villagers.

Y/N's encounters with Gaston left an indelible impression, a lingering unease beneath his charming veneer. His piercing gaze, which seemed to see right through people, and his self-assured demeanor hinted at depths yet to be explored, a shadow lurking beneath his charismatic facade. His scent, a heady mix of leather and musk, seemed to linger long after he had departed.

On a fateful day, as dark clouds gathered overhead, a fierce storm descended upon the village. The sky darkened with a menacing swiftness, and the air grew thick with the metallic scent of impending rain. Y/N's heart sank as they watched the sky darken, knowing their beloved parent had ventured into the forest to gather herbs and plants.

The tempest raged, rain pummeling against windows, and winds howling through the streets, carrying with them the sharp scent of ozone and the earthy aroma of wet soil. Every crash of thunder reverberated through the village, rattling windows and causing the ground to tremble. Each moment without their parent's return felt like an eternity, the cold dread creeping into their bones.

Why did they have to venture into the forest today? The storm's fury was growing by the minute, and every moment without their parents's return felt like an eternity. Grabbing the lantern with trembling hands, Y/N hesitated for a split second. I can't just sit here and wait. If something happens to them, no, I won't let fear stop me. I have to find them.

With a resolute breath, Y/N dashed into the night, the pages of their latest manuscript fluttering, forgotten on the desk. The forest, usually so familiar and enchanting, now seemed like a labyrinth of shadows and threats.

The rain-soaked ground squelched beneath their feet, and branches clawed at their clothes as if trying to hold them back. The lantern's feeble light flickered, casting eerie shadows that danced and twisted with the wind. Y/N pushed forward, driven by love and fear, their calls drowned by the storm's roar.