A Beauty and the Beast inspired retelling with Thranduil the Elvenking and a human reader from a nearby village. When you take your father's place in the Elvenking's dungeons, you expect to stay locked down there for the rest of your life. After the king's son, Legolas, gives you a room to stay in, and your escape attempt ends rather differently than you had hoped, a tentative bond begins to slowly form between you and Thranduil himself. However, the past won't leave either of you be, as a tormented shadow lies upon his heart and the people from your village inch closer to the Elvenking's Halls. Things within the Woodland Realm are changing but can you truly melt the heart of the Elvenking? And should it even matter... when he is immortal and you are not?

PHANTASM SERIES BOOK FIVE ---- Tryst (noun): a private romantic rendezvous between lovers, "a moonlight tryst". ---- Your eyes drifted upwards catching onto the glint of the sword that had saved you and following the curve of the blade upwards until you came to a knarled hand, with dirt under the fingernails. You followed the arm upwards until you reached his face - partly obscured underneath a green and white striped hat. You were able to catch onto blue eyes and the scruff of a beard underneath a mop of blonde hair though. What drew your attention most though, was the crow's wings behind him, flared out and glinting by the light of the sword. You hadn't even heard him swoop down for the approach. For someone who hadn't been seen in over a century, the Angel of Death looked young... too young. But then he was spinning away, wings flapping behind him so that he hovered over the ground as he sliced through anything that came too close for comfort. Even the skeletons a ways away weren't safe from his flames when their zombie counterparts came staggering too close. Soon enough, the dark forest was alight with burning undead creatures, providing a light source for you to stagger up to your feet as the Angel slid his sword back into it's scabbard. You weren't expecting him to round on you like he did, fire in his eyes. "What the hell are you doing?"

PHANTASM SERIES BOOK 4 --- Gladius, (noun): (in ancient Rome) a short sword. --- Eret perked up as soon as you and Simon walked into the room, a wide and welcoming smile coming onto his face. He was softer looking than his father had been, but you could still see some of the similar traits. He had a head of thick dark curls, and the same sharp jaw that his father had had. He wasn't as bulky though - he was tall and thin - and his face was a lot more open. What separated him most from his father's likeness though was the colorful cape, and the large mirrored glasses he wore - swirling with colors reflected from the room. He stood from his seat when Maven let the doors swing shut behind her, that wide smile still on his face. "You must be the embassy." "And you must be King Eret." You said, stooping into a bow. "Oh, there's no need for that." Eret said as you rose from your bow. He stepped down from the dias where his throne sat - colorful cape trailing behind him - and came to stand in front of you, taking your hand instead. "I'm not really one for formalities." He grinned, shaking your hand. His palm was warm against yours, and you could feel some slight callouses - most likely from practicing his sword work.

PHANTASM SERIES BOOK 1 --- Tacenda; pl (plural only): Things that are not to be spoken about or made public. Things that are best left unsaid. --- He was unlike anyone else you had seen before. There was a certain confidence about him that drew everyone's eye. His hair was tied back into a messy plait, but it was the color that was the most striking, a bright pink that contrasted the dark red and black of his robes. His face was mostly obscured by the mask of his people, but you could just make out the shape of his jaw and a flash of sharp teeth when he smiled. He was dangerous - but he was magnetic.

The door opened, and you were faced with a young man about your age. He filled the whole doorframe with his height, though he was kind of lanky looking. A few brown fluffy curls stuck out from underneath his beanie, and he wore glasses, looking down at you. "Oh, you are rather tall." You said, the words slipping out of you before you could stop yourself. You clamped your mouth shut before the rest of the thought could slip out as well - he was rather fit, too. He blinked quizzically. "Um, sorry?"

You set your phone down when a customer walked in - a boy with fluffy brown hair and an oversized jumper. You watched him wander between the shelves for a few moments, looking sort of lost, as most boyfriends and/or husbands did when they came looking for gifts. Shame too - he was cute. Still, you walked around the counter and over to him to offer your help. You stepped up beside him next to the candles. "Hi, are you finding everything okay?" You asked. "Oh, uh." The boy jumped a little. "I'm just looking for some candles." He said. "Gonna be honest... I'm kind of lost, yeah." You laughed a little. "Would you like some help?" "Yes, thank you." He sounded relieved. You grabbed one of the shopping bags from the nearby rack and handed it to him with a smile. "So are we looking for something for the girlfriend, or mom, maybe?" "Oh, um no." He said, flushing slightly. "I just needed some candles for me, actually." Your smile widened. So no girlfriend... a interesting development.

𝓐 𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕘𝕠𝕖𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕒𝕕𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕤 𝕓𝕖𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕚𝕥 𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕤, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕟, 𝕒 𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕨𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝔹𝕦𝕥 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕒 𝕓𝕝𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕟𝕖𝕖𝕕𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕥, 𝕚𝕥 𝕣𝕖𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕚𝕥'𝕤 𝕤𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙. ◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈ "𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕣𝕦𝕟𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕣?" "𝕀'𝕝𝕝 𝕠𝕟𝕝𝕪 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕡 𝕠𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕀 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕓𝕖 𝕤𝕒𝕗𝕖." ◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈ Technoblade x Reader ◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈◆◈ I'm so sorry to the people who know me and are reading this. Please feel free to print, translate, and share this story to others. It's meant to be shared ❤️