#sigh i wish i was a princess so he could save me from an evil wizard or something idk

[scarymonsters-andsupercreeps]

your knight in shining armor!

[fafnir19]

The King-Boy

The sun shone brightly on a crisp autumn afternoon as Tristan, with a hint of reluctance, made his way from his student apartment to his family home. His strides were purposeful, yet there was an air of casualness about him with his hands shoved into the pockets of his blue varsity jacket —a signature Tristan charm.

He'd been tasked with babysitting his younger sister, Emily, and while he wasn't exactly thrilled about it, he knew it was the least he could do after rejecting his father's wishes. The tension between them was palpable; Tristan's decision to turn down the military scholarship had been a sore spot, and his father's disappointment hung heavy in the air.

He knew his father wanted the best for him, but the idea of a disciplined military life never sat well with Tristan's free-spirited nature. He had always been a bit of a rebel, and the thought of obedience and rigid rules made him cringe. Besides, the prospect of being sent to war zones, fighting for causes he didn't believe in, was not something he was willing to risk his life for.

Whatsoever today, Tristan had no choice but to put that aside and focus on Emily. Upon arriving at the cozy family home, Tristan found Emily in her pink-themed bedroom, a room that screamed 'little princess.' She sat on her bed, her curly brown locks bouncing as she eagerly awaited her brother's arrival. "Tristan!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with adoration. "You're here! Are you going to read me a story?" He couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm, his heart softening despite himself. "Of course, Em. What story did you have in mind?" Emily scrambled to her bookshelf and pulled out a well-worn fairy tale book. "This one! It's about a princess and an evil queen. I want to know if the princess gets saved." Sighing, Tristan sat on the edge of the bed, his varsity jacket creasing slightly.

"Alright, let's see what this princess is up to." He opened the book, his deep voice filling the room as he began to read. "Once upon a time, in a faraway kingdom, there lived a beautiful princess..." As Tristan narrated the tale, Emily's eyes grew wide with wonder. The story was one of adventure and peril, where the princess was captured by an evil queen with magical powers. Brave knights attempted to rescue her, but many fell victim to the queen's dark magic, transformed into creatures or slain by her guards. Tristan's voice took on a dramatic tone, bringing the characters to life. "The king, desperate to save his daughter, sought a brave soul who could break the curse. But all who tried..." He paused for effect, "...met a grim fate." Emily's attention was rapt, her small hands clasped tightly together. "Do you think anyone can save her, Tristan?" He shrugged nonchalantly. "I guess we'll have to wait and see." Tristan's voice held a hint of boredom, his mind drifting to his own predicament. He, too, felt trapped, albeit in a different kind of fairy tale. "I bet you could save the princess," Emily said, her voice filled with admiration. "You're so strong and smart." A chuckle escaped Tristan's lips. "Me? Save a princess? I don't think so. I'm not the heroic type, and I'm definitely not risking my life for a stranger." Emily's face fell slightly, but her belief in her brother was unwavering. "But you're my hero, Tristan. I know you'd help her if you could." She reached into a toy box and pulled out a plastic necklace with a glittering red gem. "And with this magic necklace, you could control dragons! The princess would be saved for sure." Tristan couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. He allowed Emily to place the toy necklace around his neck, indulging her playful imagination. “Thanks, Emily," he said and played along. "I'll keep it safe until the right prince comes along."

As Tristan continued reading, Emily's eyes grew heavy, and she drifted off to sleep. As Tristan sat there, the gem at his neck began to glow, emitting a soft light that illuminated the room. Startled, he reached for the necklace, but before he could grasp it, a whirlwind of magic engulfed him and a blinding flash transported him into the very fairy tale he had been reading. He found himself in a grand hall of a castle, its high ceilings and ornate columns a stark contrast to Emily's cozy room. The air was thick with the scent of incense, and the sound of distant trumpets echoed through the halls. Tristan, now dressed in a blue velvet jerkin, tight white pants, and golden riding boots, stood in awe, taking in his new surroundings.

"Noble Tristan, what a blessing that you are here to free my daughter!" A deep voice startled him, and he turned to face a regal figure—the king himself. Tristan's heart raced, realizing he was now a part of the very story he had been reading. Although surprised by the king's knowledge of his name, Tristan maintained his composure. He had no intention of playing the hero, but he recognized this as his chance to find a way back home. Feigning interest, he played along, knowing this was his ticket to finding the elusive queen. "Your Majesty, I am at your service. I shall do whatever it takes to aid in the princess's rescue." His mind, however, was already plotting his escape from this fantastical realm. "But first, I must ask, where might I find the queen?" The king's eyes narrowed, and he stroked his beard thoughtfully. "The queen, with her dark magic, resides in a castle beyond the northern mountains.” Delighted by Tristan's willingness, the king revealed his plan. "We have learned of a secret passage that leads directly to the Queen's castle. if you can distract her, my men will sneak into her castle and rescue my daughter." Tristan just nodded.

And so, with the king's guidance, Tristan embarked on his quest, riding through enchanted forests and crossing mystical rivers. The journey was not without its perils, but the young man's determination kept him focused.

Finally, the majestic castle of the evil Queen loomed before them. Guards, clad in dark armor, escorted Tristan while he strode through the castle's halls, his boots echoing on the stone floors. The throne room loomed ahead, and as he entered, the evil Queen's laughter echoed off the walls, sending shivers down his spine. "Ah, another brave soul, come to rescue the princess?" she cackled, her eyes sparkling with malevolence. "Do you not fear the fate of those who came before you?" Tristan stood tall, his voice steady. "I do not seek the princess, my lady. I have a more personal request. I wish to return home, and I was told you might hold the key to my freedom." The Queen's eyes narrowed, her interest piqued. "And why should I assist you, young man? What could you possibly offer me?" Tristan leaned forward, his expression earnest. "Knowledge, my lady. I have learned of a secret plan—an invasion of your castle. If you help me, I can provide details that might save countless lives." The Queen's laughter filled the room and the knowledge of his impending betrayal only added to her amusement. "You would betray your king for your own gain? How delightfully cunning. Very well, young Tristan, I shall send you home, but first, share with me these secrets." Tristan revealed the king's plan, his words flowing freely. The Queen listened intently, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she realized the extent of the betrayal. Within hours, the queen's forces had captured every man involved.

Tristan, stood before the evil Queen, his once indifferent demeanor now laced with a hint of nervousness. He had played his part, revealing the King's plan, and now awaited his reward—a passage back to his world.

The Queen's smirk sent a chill down his spine. Delighted by Tristan's treachery, she was offering him a place by her side. "Don't you want to stay and explore the wonders of this realm? You could be a revered knight, admired by all." Her words were tempting, playing on his desire for admiration. But Tristan's reluctance to commit to anything beyond his self-interest remained steadfast. "A knight? No, thank you, Your Majesty. To die on some battlefield, fighting for a cause that isn't mine? I'd rather not end up a casualty of war.  I want to return home." His response was laced with a hint of sarcasm, a remnant of his mischievous nature.

The Queen's eyes narrowed, her amusement turning to intrigue. "Very well, Tristan. To go home, you must kiss me and voice your wish." As the words left her lips, Tristan couldn't help but grin. *So this is how it's done in fairy tales*, he thought, amused by the cliché. He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers. The kiss was innocent at first, a mere formality to seal their agreement. But as their lips touched, a spark ignited within Tristan, a sensation he had never known before. His body responded with a hunger he couldn't control. His cock throbbed against the confines of his pants, straining against the fabric. The Queen, sensing his arousal, broke the kiss and ran her fingers along his jawline, her touch sending waves of pleasure through him. "My, my, what have we here?" she purred, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. With deliberate slowness, she began to undress him, her fingers deftly unbuttoning his jerkin and sliding it off his shoulders. Tristan stood before her, naked and exposed, his cock standing erect, a testament to his desire. The Queen positioned herself on her throne, her dress pooling around her like a dark cloud. She spread her legs, revealing her moist core, and beckoned him with a tilt of her head. Tristan needed no further invitation. He moved towards her, his cock leading the way, and thrust into her with a rhythm that spoke of his urgency. "Yes, my noble Tristan, show me your strength," she crooned, her voice laced with encouragement. "Show me how you wield your sword." Her words spurred him on, and he fucked her with increasing fervor. The throne creaked with each powerful thrust, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. Tristan's breath came in ragged gasps as he neared his climax. "I'm so close," he moaned, his voice hoarse with desire. The Queen matched his rhythm, her hips rising to meet his, her fingers digging into his shoulders. "Show me, Tristan. Show me the power of your sword." With a final, powerful thrust, Tristan reached his climax, his body shuddering as he released himself deep within her. He cried out, a sound that was part pleasure and part surprise, as he experienced a release unlike any he had known before.

Spent, he collapsed at the Queen's feet, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

The Queen, still seated on the throne, looked down at him with a satisfied smile. Her hand reached out, stroking his flaccid cock. To his surprise, he felt himself respond, his cock twitching back to life and slowly stiffening once more. "Oh, my dear Tristan," she cooed, her voice dripping with satisfaction, "I see you are not yet done. Are you wishing to put your sword in my service, Tristan?" she asked, her voice laced with both power and seduction. She knew full well the power of her words, the double meaning they held. Tristan, still dazed from the intensity of his orgasm, didn't fully comprehend her words. He assumed she was referring to his cock, and without hesitation, he answered, "Yes, my Queen." A grin played around the queen's lips, because she had him right where she wanted! She reveled in the thought that Tristan has just unwittingly pledged himself to her. "Welcome, my knight," she said, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "And how far might you go to serve me, my loyal subject?" Her tone was light, almost playful, but the undercurrent of power was unmistakable. The question caught Tristan off guard. But before he could process his response, the words tumbled from his mouth before he could stop them, as if some unseen force guided his tongue. "I would die for you, my Queen." He froze, shocked by his own declaration and the consequences of it slowly dawning on him. Had he just agreed to become her knight? To serve and protect her, even at the cost of his own life? How could he, the very embodiment of youthful reluctance, offer such a profound sacrifice? His mouth had betrayed him, speaking words he never would have uttered under normal circumstances. The realization hit him like a slap. He had just pledged his life to this woman, this evil enchantress. As if reading his thoughts, the Queen chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down his spine. "Oh, my dear Tristan, you have just become my knight. Your fate is sealed, and your loyalty is now unwavering." His agreement to serve her with his 'sword' had triggered a spell, binding him to her will. Tristan's mind raced as he tried to process what was happening. He had never been one to commit wholeheartedly to a cause, especially one as dangerous as knighthood. But now, under the Queen's spell, his thoughts were transforming. The idea of fighting on the battlefield, of risking his life for her, no longer filled him with dread but with a sense of purpose and honor. And strangely, the thought of dying for her made his cock twitch with desire.

The queen's eyes narrowed, a mixture of amusement and triumph dancing in their depths. She had sensed the change in him, the magic coursing through his veins. "Excellent, my knight. Your devotion is... inspiring." She rose from her throne, her movements graceful and calculated. "Come, let us prepare you for your new role." As if in a trance, he followed her, his steps steady and sure, as if he had always been destined for this path. She led him to a nearby chamber. The marble floor of the chamber was cold against Tristan's bare feet as he followed the queen, his body still glistening with sweat from their passionate encounter. The air was heavy with the scent of incense, and the flickering torchlight cast an eerie glow on the stone walls, creating an atmosphere that both intrigued and unnerved him. At the center of the room, a massive bathtub, carved from pure white marble, awaited them, its surface shimmering with steam. The queen, dressed in her elegant black dress, stood by the tub, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of satisfaction and anticipation. Tristan's heart quickened as he realized the vulnerability of his nakedness in contrast to her fully-clothed form. It was a stark reminder of the power she held over him, a power he had willingly surrendered. "Step in, my knight," she purred, her voice laced with a command he couldn't refuse. Obediently, Tristan approached the tub and lowered himself into the hot, soothing water.

The queen knelt beside the bath, her fingers trailing along his skin, sending shivers down his spine. She held a sponge, dripping with fragrant soap, and began to wash him with slow, deliberate strokes. "You have served me well, Tristan," she whispered, her breath warm on his neck. "And I shall reward you." Her words sent a thrill through him, but it was not the promise of a reward that made his heart race. It was the touch of her hands, the intimacy of this moment, and the knowledge that he was entirely at her mercy. She washed his shoulders, her fingers kneading the tense muscles, and then moved down his arms, her touch both gentle and possessive. As the sponge glided over his chest and arms, he felt a tingling sensation, and his breath caught. His body hair, once a source of pride, was disappearing, leaving his skin smooth and flawless. The queen's magic was at work, transforming him, and he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of excitement at the loss of his former self. Her hands traveled lower, and she cupped his balls, "Your manhood will be a symbol of your dedication." His balls, once heavy and low, began to shrink and tighten, moving upwards as if drawn by an invisible force. It was a strange, almost pleasurable sensation, and he found himself grinning. "My Queen, what... what are you doing to me?" "Ah, my knight, you are becoming more perfect by the moment," she murmured, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "These shrunken, transformed balls will keep you youthful forever. A fitting gift for my loyal servant." Tristan shuddered, his cock hardening at her words. The idea of being her eternal servant, a plaything, should have terrified him, but instead, he felt a rush of excitement. He had become her pleasure tool, and the thought of being nothing more than an object of her desire sent a wave of arousal through him. "Do you like what you see, my knight?" she asked, her fingers tracing the outline of his hardening cock through the water. "Do you like how I've made you?" "Yes, my Queen," he replied, his voice hoarse with desire. "I belong to you." She smiled, a triumphant gleam in her eyes, and continued her bathing ritual, ensuring every inch of his skin was touched by her magic. The water grew cooler, and she helped him out of the tub, her hands never leaving his body. She dried him with a soft cloth, her movements slow and sensual, as if she were savoring every moment. Then, with a flick of her wrist, she produced the outfit of a knight, but with a seductive twist. The black leather pants she offered him were tight, hugging his legs like a second skin, and he felt a surge of power as he slid them on. No underwear, just his bare skin against the leather. The jerkin, black velvet with a plunging neckline, framed his chest, leaving it exposed to her gaze. "Dress, my knight," she commanded, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Let me see my creation." Tristan complied, pulling on the pants, feeling the soft leather caress his skin. His cock strained against the material, the outline clearly visible but he no longer cared about modesty. The queen had taken that from him, replacing it with a constant state of arousal. He donned the jerkin, feeling the velvet brush against his nipples, now sensitive to the slightest touch. "Perfect, you are the embodiment of my desires. A bold knight, ready for battle, and a youthful pleasure boy, eager to serve." she whispered, running her hands over his chest and down his stomach, lingering on the bulge in his pants.

Tristan looked down at himself, his body a perfect blend of strength and sensuality. He was no longer the hesitant jock; he was a creation of the queen's making, designed for fighting and fucking.

The thought should have been alarming, but instead, it excited him. "Your transformation is complete, my knight. From now on, you will serve me, and the very thought of sacrificing your life for me will bring you pleasure." The queen's eyes sparkled with triumph. "You are mine, Tristan, body and soul." He stood tall, his body humming with newfound energy, his mind already embracing the destiny she had envisioned for him. Tristan's reluctance and indifference had vanished, replaced by a burning desire to please his queen, to fight and fuck in her name. As he left the chamber, his footsteps confident, he couldn't help but grin, his eyes gleaming with a newfound lust for life—or perhaps, more accurately, a lust for death in the service of his dark and enchanting queen.

Eighty years had passed since that fateful day when her brother, Tristan, had vanished, leaving nothing but a trail of unanswered questions. The pain of his disappearance had dulled over time, but the memories remained vivid, especially the one of him reading to her from a fairy tale book, a cherished moment before he vanished without a trace. Now, in the twilight of her life, Emily found herself in a senior home, sipping lukewarm tea, a far cry from the warm and lively household she once knew. She had long given up complaining about the temperature of her tea, knowing the nurses wouldn't heed her requests. But on this particular day, as she reached for a faded fairy tale book, a surge of nostalgia and curiosity overcame her. It was the fairy tale book that Tristan had always read to her. The pain of his disappearance too raw to bear, she had avoided the book for decades, for it was the last thing Tristan had read to her before his sudden absence. But now, as she approached the end of her journey on this earth, she felt prepared to revisit the story. "It's time to finally finish the story, Tristan," she whispered, her voice carrying a mix of determination and sorrow.

As she turned the pages, a bittersweet smile crept across her face. She noticed the peculiar coincidence of the protagonist's name, Tristan, identical to her brother's. It was as if the author had known her brother, capturing his essence in the character's deeds and demeanor.

The tale spoke of a young man, noble and brave, who found himself entangled in a web of magic and deceit. This Tristan, like her brother, was charismatic and confident, his charm effortlessly drawing people to him. But there was a darkness to this fictional Tristan, a mirror of the flaws Emily knew all too well in her brother. The tale spoke of Tristan's betrayal of the king, a deceitful act committed for personal gain. Emily's eyes widened as she read, for she saw her brother's actions in this fictional betrayal. It was a trait she had witnessed in him—a tendency to prioritize his interests, sometimes at the expense of others. She thought back to the countless times Tristan had charmed his way out of trouble, his mischievous smile belying a clever mind. "How could he betray the king and the princess?" she whispered, her voice carrying a mix of disappointment and understanding. In her heart, she believed that the queen's magic, which bound Tristan to her service, was a fitting punishment for his treachery. It was a harsh lesson in loyalty and honor, one that her brother had seemingly failed to learn. Yet, as the story progressed, Emily's disgust grew. The ease with which Tristan succumbed to the queen's enchantment, becoming her knight and, worse, her pleasure boy, was unsettling. She had always known her brother to be a charmer, but this... this was different.

The tale continued, revealing that Tristan's free spirit could not be contained for long. He rallied the queen's warriors, turning them against her, and in a twist of fate, he became their leader. With cunning and guile, he tricked the queen, a common trope in ancient fairy tales. But Tristan's punishment was cruel; he had the queen shackled in red-hot iron, forcing her to grant his every wish. Yet, despite his efforts, he remained trapped in his youthful form, forever horny and without a trace of modesty. He ruled the realm with a youthful vigor, conquering other kingdoms and earning the title 'King-Boy'.

Emily's heart fluttered as she read these words, unsure if she was thinking of the fictional Tristan or her brother. "He always did have a way of getting himself into peculiar situations," she sighed, a mixture of fondness and exasperation in her voice. A tear escaped, rolling down her wrinkled cheek, as she remembered her brother's playful smile and the sound of his laughter.

As Emily's fingers brushed the final page, the ancient binding began to glow, emitting a crimson light that illuminated the room. A figure emerged from its pages —her brother, Tristan! Emily's breath caught in her throat as she beheld a young man, no older than nineteen, with a mischievous glint in his eye, his attire a blend of fantasy and allure. He was dressed in enchanted knight attire, his black leather pants hugging his legs, and a black velvet jerkin showcasing his chest. His blond hair, once neatly styled, now held a slight wave, and his piercing blue eyes had softened with a lustful gleam.

"Tristan?" Emily whispered, her voice trembling. The young man smiled, and it was a smile she knew all too well. "Hello, Emily. It seems you've been reading about my adventures." His voice carried a hint of amusement, and he strode into the room with the confidence of royalty. “I've missed your company." His gaze, once indifferent, now held a mischievous glint, as if he relished the surprise he had caused. Emily's eyes welled up with tears of joy and relief. She offered him the teacup, a gesture of hospitality. "Welcome home, dear brother. I'm afraid the tea isn't very warm." Tristan took the cup and frowned, his brow furrowing in a familiar manner. "Indeed, it's rather lukewarm, isn't it? I've never been one for cold tea." Emily sighed, her gaze drifting to the window. "I've complained about the tea countless times, but the nurses here never seem to listen." Tristan took the cup and walked to the door. "Maid!" he called out as a nurse hurried past the hallway. "This tea is cold!" The nurse, flustered and annoyed, stopped in her tracks. "The tea is hot enough, and I've no time for your games, young man. Mr. Williams in room 203 can't breathe, and I need to attend to him." In a swift motion Tristan poured the tea onto the nurse, startling her. "Hey!" she exclaimed, taken aback by the sudden action. "Cold tea, indeed!" he exclaimed. "If it were hot, you'd be howling in pain. Apologize, maid, for your insolence!" The nurse, to Emily's astonishment, fell to her knees, as if compelled by an unseen force. "I—I'm sorry, sir," she stammered. "Excellent," Tristan purred, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "As a merciful king, I shall grant you a chance to redeem yourself. Bring us hot tea, posthaste, and address me as my King." As the nurse scurried off, Emily's mind raced. "Tristan, what about Mr. Williams?" Playfully raising an eyebrow, Tristan feigned ignorance. ""Emily, he can no longer breathe. I doubt tea is on his mind at the moment." Emily's expression turned from concern to confusion, and then to realization. Tristan's indifference to the plight of others had not faded over the years. She took a deep breath, her emotions warring within her. "But Tristan, he might—" He cut her off, his eyes sparkling with ambition. "Do you think they'd still offer me that scholarship at the military university? I could make those generals bow with a mere glance!"

Emily's emotions battled within her. The joy of having her brother back was tempered by the realization that he hadn't changed. The same playful arrogance that had always charmed her now left her conflicted. "Tristan, you... you haven't changed a bit. But I thought..." "Changed? Why should I? The world bends to my will, and I've ruled the fairy tale realm for decades. Imagine what I could do at that military university! I've conquered countless fairy tale realms, and now, I could rule this world too." Tristan's eyes gleamed with ambition. Emily shook her head, a mixture of fondness and exasperation washing over her. "You always were stubborn, Tristan. But I'm just glad you're here. I've missed you so much." Tristan's expression softened, and for a fleeting moment, a hint of vulnerability flashed in his eyes. "I've missed you too, Emily. But enough of this sentimentality. Let's enjoy this tea and plot my return to the mortal realm. I have a kingdom to rule and a world to conquer!" As they awaited the nurse's return, Emily couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and unease. The brother she knew and loved was back, but he was also a king from a fairy tale, with all the complexities and contradictions that entailed. He spoke of conquests and power, and she couldn't help but wonder if he was the hero or the villain of his own story.

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

The Silver Dragon (22)

Arianwyn meets Aemond in the Godswood.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OC (Daemon and Rhea's daughter)

Warnings: none

Series Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

“Marry me.”

Arianwyn’s heart stopped.

“What did you say?” she asked, the question hardly more than a sigh. She hardly noticed that her tears had stopped, frozen where they fell on her cheeks.

Aemond swallowed, turning his gaze from her as if he hadn’t altered her world – her entire existence – with just two words.

Years ago, in this very spot, she had told him how she feared being married. She did not want to return to a strange castle with a strange man who may mistreat her. She was afraid she would meet the same fate as her mother. Rhea Royce had married a strange man, and it cost her not only her happiness and reputation but her life.

Marriage was not as it was in many of the fairy tales they read throughout their childhood: romantic and full of magic and wonder.

Those were always Aemond’s favorites, she knew, because in the realm of those stories, he could pretend was not a forgotten second son whose fate was limited to playing a small part in the grand tales of his more important siblings, but a valiant prince destined for greatness. And for him, she would pretend she was not a child borne of hatred, eternally haunted by the sins of her father, but the noble daughter of two ancient bloodlines fated to rule her people with kindness and grace.

No, Arianwyn preferred the other kind of fairy tale. The ones where valiant princes fought admirably against evil to no avail. Where princesses stayed locked in their towers because their keepers were too powerful to be defeated. The ones where good did not win, but endured within the shadow.

Good did not win. She was proof of it. If good won, she would have grown up in Runestone with her mother, alive and unharmed. Daemon would be dead for the crimes he’d committed. And Aemond would not have lost his eye.

But good could endure. In small, secret, bright moments. Like when he’d taken her to her old apartments, and she’d read to him. Like her having the chance to meet Helaena’s children. Like that quiet moment of contentment they’d shared at dinner before it was ripped away by the cruelty of her stepbrother. It was those moments that made life worth living.

What Aemond was offering wasn’t real. Even if she wished it could be.

He moved his grip on her chin to cradle her cheek. “If you marry me, you will no longer belong to your father.”

“I would belong to you,” she countered. Her face twisted with confusion as her heart resumed its hammering. But it did not feel like rage. Nor the all-consuming sadness that had only just threatened to overtake her. Still, her pulse raced, her face flushed, and an exhilarating chill spread through her body.

“Yes,” Aemond breathed, “but I would never command you, Aria. I would never even try. You know that. In all the ways that truly matter, you would be free.” His face was as open as she had ever seen, his beautiful eye almost pleading, begging her to let him save her.

Without bidding, the memory of him standing so close to her against the wall of books in her room flooded her mind. His hand on her waist. The warmth of his body enveloping her. Only a breath away from their lips touching…

She could name that feeling. Knew why it sent her heart pounding. Saw it reflected in Aemond’s face, as well.

“You would do that for me?” she asked. “Without permission from the king?”

He looked almost hurt that she would ask. Again, he pulled her tighter into him as he brushed the tears from her cheeks. “I would do anything for you, Arianwyn,” he whispered. “And I don’t give a damn what the king thinks.”

Gods, the raging feeling inside her urged her to throw herself at him, to abandon all logic and place her trust in the childish notion that a marriage was the beginning of a happy ending. Perhaps, just this once, it could be.

Even if it weren’t, it would be a moment bright enough to carry her through a century of misery. Perhaps even into the afterlife.

Squeezing his hand, she gave her answer. “Then I will happily marry you, Prince Aemond.”

Raising a prayer of thanks to each face of the Seven, Aemond pulled Aria into his chest in an embrace so tight he was sure she would feel his heart pounding. But he did not care. It beat for her.

He would have happily wed Aria beneath their table, but his back was beginning to ache, and she needed to have her wounds treated. So, he reluctantly released her and helped her crawl back out into the real world. Still, he held to her as if she would disappear without him holding her to reality.

“My lady?” Ser Warren’s voice drew her attention, and Aemond almost resented him for it. But the knight had known Aria all her life, and he was only concerned with her safety. “Are you well?”

“I’m perfectly well,” she replied, flashing a genuine smile. “Thank you, Ser.”

Again, it seemed she had forgotten the twin trails of blood running down her throat and the beginnings of bruises lining her jaw. But Aemond had not. And Ser Warren’s black eyes were stuck on those two lines of red.

“You are wounded, lady,” he said gently, like a father lovingly scolding his daughter. “I assume it was Daemon? What did he do?”

Aria’s hand flew to her throat, running delicate fingers over hateful marks. The first, the larger of the marks, was on the side of her neck. A trickle of fresh blood flowed as her touch grazed over it. “He was choking me,” she said simply, dispassionately. “His nail cut me.”

The second mark was smaller, akin to the prick of a large needle, and dangerously close to her throat. “I made this one, I think.” She furrowed her brow slightly as she tapped her broken skin once, twice, again, again. “The shears went all the way through his hand. I must have accidentally stabbed myself, too.”

Aemond could hardly breathe. She had come so close to puncturing her own airway in an attempt to escape from Daemon because he hadn’t been able to protect her. He had been too afraid of being branded a villain. Never again.

Warren stepped forward, his sword sheathed, and hand outstretched. “What shears? You stabbed him? Lady, what happened?”

“Brynna gave me her shears to protect myself,” she explained. Her hand went to her skirts and rifled around for a moment. “I must have left them in him. I don’t have them anymore.”

The other two Bronze Guards appeared, intuitively taking up defensive positions around the three. Aemond still didn’t know their names. He had to learn them, so he could properly thank them for protecting her all those years on Dragonstone. The rest would arrive soon. Their orders were to reconvene here if they did not find Aria.

Once they were here, and Aemond was assured she was well-defended, they could begin.

“Can you show me where you stabbed him?” Warren removed the gauntlet from one hand and held it out to Aria. She pointed to the flesh between the thumb and the first finger. “Well, it won’t cripple him forever, but I’m sure it hurt like the hells. Good work, my lady.”

She smiled a bit at the praise. “Thank you, Warren.”

They fell into comfortable silence as they waited for the others. Warren examined Aria’s wounds more closely and determined them to be minor, though the bruises would linger. Aemond combed through her hair with his fingers and whispered gentle reassurances in her ear. She said nothing in return, just held to him. Was this what she saw in him on his ‘quiet days?’

Two by two, the Bronze Guard reassembled until the last, Ser Rody Tollett and another Aemond didn’t know, arrived with Ser Criston Cole in tow. He had likely been sent to find the wayward prince when he ran into his old friend.

Aemond gave him a nod before again leaning down to Aria. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

He had never heard a more beautiful word.

“Send a man to fetch Grand Maester Orwyle,” Aemond commanded, lacing his fingers through Aria’s protectively. “And another for Septon Eustace. Bring them to the Sept. The rest of you will accompany us there.”

Warren glanced at their held hands and the flush on both their faces. “May I ask for what purpose, my Prince?”

Aemond raised his chin as he answered, challenging the knight to object. “The Lady Arianwyn and I are to be married this night.”

Rather than raise any objection or even question why they were doing this secretly, Warren only smiled and bowed his head. “Of course, my Prince. It would be my honor.”

“Ser Warren?” Arianwyn called as he turned away to gather the men. “Not the Sept. The Godswood, and the Weirwood tree.”

Aemond looked down at her with a questioning gaze, and she offered him a thoughtful, sweet smile. “I think it would be wise for us to seek the blessing of as many gods as possible, don’t you?”

They would certainly need all the protection they could manage when Daemon found out. Aemond nodded to her, then to Ser Warren. “The Godswood,” he affirmed.

The full moon set the leaves of the Godswood ablaze with silver as the ceremony began. Arianwyn lingered outside the entrance to the Heart Tree courtyard, Orwyle dabbing the last of the blood from her neck. Aemond stood before the giant Weirwood with Eustace while the Septon recited the traditional prayers.

Was she really doing this? Marrying in secret in the middle of the night? Shackling herself to one man to be free of another?

But this wasn’t just any man, she reminded herself. She was not being sold to a stranger, some second son she barely knew, or an old man seeking to use her only for her royal, Valyrian womb.

This was Aemond.

The person in the world she knew better than anyone or anything. She had known him almost her whole life. This was a man she had grown up with, played with, and studied with.

They had discovered and chased their passions together. Spending countless hours together, in the library, in her rooms, and in the Dragonpit.

He had been there the first time she rode Emrys, and she when he claimed Vhagar.

When her father ripped her away to Dragonstone, he had written to her every day, even while healing from the loss of his eye.

It was he who had held her and wiped her tears that very night after her father had come so close to killing her.

This was the man she loved, though it had taken her years to admit it.

She loved him. With every beat of her heart and breath in her lungs, she loved him.

It had been that love that had kept her alive on Dragonstone. That fed the wild hope that one day she would see him again, and they would be together until the end of their days. Along with his beautiful letters, that hope had sustained her.

But even before they were separated, she had loved him. Why else would she have gone with him to claim Vhagar? What else but love would have made her fool enough to approach such a massive beast? Could anything else have made her heart soar to the heavens themselves when she watched him finally fulfill a lifelong dream?

All her life, Aemond was there. Alicent once told her that when they first met as babes, they had smiled when they saw each other. Had they somehow known, even then, what they were destined for?

Arianwyn felt like a fool for being so blind for so long. Had she known the true identity of her feelings, she would have fought harder for him. She never would have allowed them to be torn apart.

“Bride, approach.” Eustace’s voice ripped her from her thoughts.

She took Ser Warren’s arm, and he led her into the heart of the Godswood. When they stopped at the base of the Heart Tree, he released her, but not before squeezing her hand and kissing her brow. “Your mother is not here to give her blessing,” he whispered. “But I know she would give it, were she able.”

He moved to turn away, but Arianwyn pulled him back and kissed his cheek in return. “Thank you,” she said. For so many things.

Then, she climbed the few uneven steps that led her to Aemond. She wore no veil, so there was nothing to hide her flush as she faced him.

Seeing her nervousness, he reached out a hand to take hers before remembering himself and pulling it back. Eustace spied the movement and smirked as he instructed Aemond, “You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection.”

It was a borrowed cloak. White, as her bride dress should have been. Ser Criston Cole had offered it without prompting and gave it with his blessing.

Arianwyn gazed into Aemond’s violet eye as he swept the cloak around her shoulders, taking an extra moment to arrange her hair upon the fabric, the silver curls and white cloak aglow in the light of the full moon. She could find no trace of nervousness on his face, only the slight edge of a smile on his lips. It began to reflect on her own before she could help herself.

Eustace continued. “I stand here in the sight of the gods to witness the union of man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.”

Now with the proper cue, Aemond took her hand, as he had done so many times that night and in all the years before. But this time was different. His hand was so warm against the chill of the air, warmer even than the cloak he had put around her. This time, Arianwyn could not help but notice the way his hand fit perfectly on hers.

The Septon began wrapping a ribbon – in truth, the leather lacing from one of her guard’s bracers – around their joined hands. “Let it be known that Arianwyn of Houses Targaryen and Royce, and Aemond of Houses Targaryen and Hightower are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.”

A dangerous flash ran through Aemond’s eye at the words, though it faded as fast as it appeared.

“In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity.” Eustace let the ribbon unwind and fall to the grass below them. “Look upon each other and say the words.”

One violet eye met a shining pair of silver, and Aemond and Arianwyn spoke as one.

“Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger.”

“I am hers, and she is mine.”

“I am his, and he is mine.”

“From this day until the end of my days.”

They were ritual words, spoken by brides and grooms in Westeros for hundreds of years. But still, they had never rung so true as on this night beneath the Heart Tree in the Godswood of Kings.

Arianwyn did not know what the morning would bring. Whether she would remain here or be taken back across the Blackwater against her will. But it did not matter anymore. She looked at the determination and love on her husband’s face, and she was not afraid.

Dragonstone was not her home; of that she was certain. But neither was the Red Keep nor Runestone her home. Not even the library she loved so dearly was her home.

Aemond was.

[gicosmo]

Nunca es suficiente {Luis x Fem! Reader}

Hey y'all! It's my first time posting on Tumblr so I hope this post goes well🙏I recently got back into Resident Evil again! I'm so happy with the RE4 remake and I'm happy that they did Luis justice! This is for all of my Luis Serra lovers!!!🫶

warnings: this is after the events of re4 (Luis lives! woohoo!), confessions, oblivious reader, just a bunch of fluff and a little bit of angst

////////////

"C'mon, mi amor! You'll love the surprise. Don't be moody!" Luis smiled as he squeezed your face softly. It's been a few months after you guys left that hellhole, you would be lying if you said it was easy to forget about it. Everything that happened there is engraved in your mind, from everything that everyone said to every single detail of what everyone did. Talk about trauma, huh?

"Sorry, Luis... I'm just... Thinking." You sighed, your mind drifting off...

The only good thing to come out of that was Luis. Meeting him ignited something in you. He gave you hope, a reason. You couldn't pin point what exactly you were feeling, but you sure as hell knew it was strong. You cared deeply for the flirtatious man. That deep feeling of care grew deeper when you found him bleeding to his death with Leon.

The image of him with a cigarette in his mouth cracking jokes pops up occasionally. It haunts you. You look up at Luis who has nothing but love in his eyes for you. Too bad you were oblivious to how much he really loved you.

Luis crossed his arms, a little smirk on his face, "What's going on in the beautiful mind of yours, hmm? Are you thinking about yours truly?" A little laugh escaped your lips as you turned to face him. He always managed to make you smile.

You suddenly felt that feeling again. What the actual hell is that? It's not annoying per say... but it was annoying that you just simply didn't know why you were feeling it.

Luis grabbed your hand, flashing a charming smile, "Enough stalling! I spent a bunch of money on you today. How do you feel about becoming a princesa today?"

Cocking a brow you looked at him with a questioning look, "What do you have planned...? You didn't buy a castle, did you?" Luis let out a loud laugh, shaking his head in the process, "Ay, no! I wish I had that type of money. I would buy you the whole world..."

After a few more minutes of bickering, you finally decide to go with Luis to see what he had planned. Luis drove with a smile on his face, hands tapping on the wheel out of pure excitement. Watching him, a smile crept on your face.

"Estamos aqui! Don't worry, I'll get the door for you, Princesa." Luis opened his door and got out with one swift movement. Not a moment later, he opened the side of the door, a hand out helping you out of the car. Gosh, he was a true gentleman.

Luis winked at you before gesturing his hand towards the building in front of you two, "The surprise awaits inside. Let's go, Mi amor." You followed Luis into the building, "I don't understand... you bought a house?"

Walking inside the building, Luis laughs, "Very funny. No no, I rented out a hall for the day. and alsooo," he let's go of your hand and reaches for a bag on top of a table. He opens it, revealing a beautiful puffy dress, "I bought you a dress! Made for you, Princesa." It really did look like it was made for a princess...

You grabbed the dress, pure shock on your face. Luis did this... for you?

"Luis... I don't know what to say. What would possess you to even do this?" Luis gently lifted your face by your chin, smiling ever so gently at you,

"Remember back in Spain when I called you and Leon? I was in a ballroom. I asked you to come over so we could dance... and also for you both to save me."

You laughed at his last choice of words. You remember that moment ever so clearly. You couldn't believe Luis remembered that dance request.

Luis placed a gentle kiss on your hand before speaking, "Now... how about you change into that dress, Princesa. Let us dance like we've never danced before." With a smile plastered over your face, you went into a bathroom for privacy while Luis did the same. Both of you changing into something beautifully formal.

Luis waited for you patiently, slow dancing music already playing. Hearing clicking of heels, Luis turns his head towards it's direction. There you were. The princess. His princess.

"Dios mio... Look at you." His eyes never left you. You were so beautiful to him. "A true princesa." Wasting no time, he quickly walked up to you, grabbing one of your hands and sliding his free hand on your waist. He pulled you closer, already starting off the slow dance with you.

The two of you maintained eye contact with one another, nothing but love and admiration for one another. Luis' face inched closer and closer to yours. You closed your eyes, feeling his soft lips connect with yours.

The kiss was filled with so much passion and love. Luis embraced you, deepening the kiss. Longing for more.

You broke the kiss, looking up at him, finally knowing that feeling that was annoying you from time to time,

"This is what you meant by how I felt about becoming a princess, hm?" Luis chuckled, pecking your lips a few times before answering,

"I had to make sure that you wanted to be mi princesa before I made you mi reina"

[once-upon-a-pirate-ship]

How Restlessly the Stars Do Gleam - Chapter 12: True

Cover art by the lovely and talented @snowbellewells!!!

Story summary: After the Evil Queen kidnaps and curses her family and destroys her kingdom, Princess Emma is on the run. She boards a merchant vessel with her godmother Red, and they intend to travel to Arendelle to seek magical assistance. But when Emma discovers the dark truths aboard Captain Silver's ship, she must put a stop to his cruelty and rescue the Jones brothers from their enslavement. Emma has to find her own allies and face her fears in order to save her parents, her brother Leo, and her kingdom.

Read it on AO3 from the beginning here.

Taglist, message me or reply to a chapter if you want to be added: @kmomof4 @teamhook @tiganasummertree @snowbellewells

Read chapter 12 below the cut or on AO3.

Please reblog, comment here or on AO3, and share the love because I am truly pouring my heart into this fic (as demonstrated below).

To lead was to sacrifice. 

That was something her mother had not only taught her but had attempted to prepare her for—to make her strong enough that she could do what was necessary, what others wouldn’t do, to put her people and the future of her kingdom above herself. Emma was never free to simply act as she wished; everything she did had consequences, each decision she made had an echo, reverberating far beyond her expectations. 

The well-being of her people sat heavily upon her shoulders, and she could not forget that. 

Robin had taken the news of the Black Knights and their quick demise well, and though a discussion was still necessary to determine their course of action, he had ordered they all sit for a meal and tend to the few wounds before considering their next step.

Emma had readily retrieved her salve and healing supplies only to stop herself, her eyes fixed on the figure she most sought as he sat some fifty feet away, the firelight staining his blood-covered cheek. 

Her hands ached to help him, heal him, tend to the cut he only sustained in the aid of her beloved brother—but that was what she wanted to do, not what she needed to do. Not what was best. Allowing herself even one step closer to him was the selfish thing to do, and she could not bear to cling to such weakness when her mother had raised her better.

She left it to Red and banished herself from his view, finding bittersweet exile at the base of a tree beside the creek. 

“Not hungry?” Leo plopped down beside her before she could respond or even react, shoving a bowl of stew into her grasp. 

Emma pushed it back towards him. “No, I’m fine.”

“Suit yourself,” he said, tipping the bowl to his lips. 

She tried to find comfort in his less-than-princely manners, his endearing slobbish behavior, but she’d felt hollow since her latest sacrifice (maybe it would always be this: each choice chipping away at what was left of her until she was just a shadow of herself, just a figurehead perfectly fit for their crown. Did that make her a better ruler or a worse one?).

“You should be judging me right now,” Leo added, choking down another bit of stew. 

“Should I?”

He sighed, a lofty and pompous sound that reminded them both of their father. Leo set the bowl aside, either finished or no longer hungry. “Emma,” he drawled.

“Leo,” she replied, mimicking his tone.

“You know you can talk to me, right?”

She didn’t look at him. “About what?”

“About wh—Emma!”

“What?” she snapped, all her defenses rising at once, shielding her from everything she couldn’t stand to feel, couldn’t stand to know. 

Leo hopped onto his feet, glaring down at her with his arms crossed rigidly in front of him (so like their mother). “I swear to the gods above, Emma, if you keep pretending like there’s nothing going on��”

“There’s nothing—”

“I’m going to say something I never thought I would,” he threatened, ignoring her pitiful attempt. 

Emma pushed herself up to stand before him, folding her arms now too, though hers acted more like armor. “Oh yeah, and what’s that?”

“You’re being a coward, Emma.”

Fury barrelled into her, red and scalding and dangerous, knotting her hands into fists when they snapped to her sides. “Tread. Lightly.”

Leo did not waver. “No, I won’t. There’s been far too much of that around here.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about a certain someone and your inability to tell that someone how you feel.”

Icy resolve trickled down to her feet, sealing her where she stood. “I don’t see how that is any of your business.”

“Emma, this is absolutely ridiculous!” he blurted. “You’re both being cowards about this, and if you could just stop for a second see that, maybe—”

“Maybe what?” she demanded. “Maybe we can live happily ever after, like our parents? Haven’t you heard? That didn’t turn out so well for them.”

Leo’s eyes narrowed, his jaw setting firmly. “You’re proving my point,” he said. “You’re just scared, and I get that, I do, but you can’t keep doing this.”

“No, Leo. You don’t get it,” she replied. “You have no idea what I’m doing. What I’m giving up. But I don’t have a choice, because I have to rule, Leo! I have to put aside what I want and do what has to be done so that if we’re not successful, if we can’t save our parents, I can in good conscience take the throne.”

Leo’s lips twisted in disgust. “Don’t tell me this is about class.”

She recoiled, pain shooting through her as if he had struck her. “How could you possibly think—”

“Then what is it? Why do you have to give this up?”

“Because I refuse to curse him, too.” She looked away, pulling in a shaky breath. “Even if I pretend like we’re not currently on the run, even if I ignore that every second should be spent strategizing to get our parents back, even if I act like it doesn’t take every drop of energy I have just to keep myself upright and moving forward—I cannot be oblivious to the sacrifice that all of our allies have already made, the death sentences they’ve already signed themselves up for. I’m so tired of the fighting and the bloodshed and the death and the sacrifice, but none of that is about to go away, because this is my life now. This is my whole life. It’s the curse the Evil Queen gave me, and I know it doesn’t compare to your agony, but I’m carrying my own burden now, Leo, and it’s killing me, too. I’m losing myself, too.

“I have to learn how to be strong enough to do what’s right, and I’m trying to figure out how I can possibly do that when all I want to do is run to him and find comfort—but it doesn’t matter. It can’t be. I’m just…I’m just glad that…that at least I’m respecting the distance he’s put between us.”

Leo’s eyes shone, even in the darkness, and he took her hands in his. “It doesn’t have to be like this, Emma, I promise.”

She withdrew from his touch, wrapping her arms around herself instead. “Yes, it does. I know you can’t understand, but just trust me on this. Please.”

He remained where he was, resisting the urge to hug her fiercely. She wasn’t ready for him to push her any further. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t take matters into his own hands.

— —

With dawn came sorrow. 

Though perhaps it had never left, only hidden by the darkness, pieces of it distorted to look incandescent in the moonlight. 

Emma watched the last of his star dissolve into daylight, shivering when the burning cold spread across her chest. And at last she lay on her bedroll, wishing for all the impossible things that could bring her joy.

Half their camp had shifted their routines to become nocturnal, though many simply lost hours of sleep when sunlight prodded them awake. Emma was one such person, though on this day, she did not rise. Her limbs could not sustain her weight, nor had she the strength to stand. And the worries of her friends and allies had not gone unheard; she kept her eyes closed, her body still, and feigned sleep until the sun began its descent. 

— —

It was supposed to be a scouting mission, a task he could claim that would busy his mind and give purpose to his body, but as soon as he’d volunteered, his brother had swooped in and disrupted his plans.

Killian trudged along the farthest edge of their perimeter and then just beyond, looking for signs of their enemy and blatantly ignoring Liam who followed closely behind. 

The last of daylight was burning itself out, turning the world amber and radiant, but Killian was not in the mindset to appreciate such beauty, angry anticipation turning to bile in his throat as dread seeped into him.

“I fail to understand why you have yet to express your feelings,” Liam said abruptly, and though Killian had tried to prepare for such an assault, he still stumbled over the exposed root he should have avoided.

He caught himself, only having to pause a moment to reset his posture and composure before continuing, determined not to respond. 

“Killian, this is absurd.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said curtly, proceeding with his task.

Liam scoffed, unimpressed. “Come now, usually you’re a much better liar than that.”

Killian froze, rage prickling along his spine. He opened his mouth to speak but quickly decided against it, instead resuming his path at twice the speed. 

“Enough of this, brother. I know you wish for my silence but I have been silent too long. We must speak of this.”

“There is nothing to speak of,” Killian replied, his footsteps undeterred.

Liam laughed in disbelief and disappointment. “Of course there is,” he said. “Now could you just stop for a second and explain to me why you refuse to acknowledge this?”

Killian’s laugh was bitter. “Why, you ask. As if you don’t know as well as I that this can never happen.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Like hell you don’t.”

Liam caught his arm, forcing him to stop his progress. “The whole world isn’t privy to your darkest thoughts, Killian. Don’t act like I understand them or their logic, because I never have before. Tell me what you bloody mean,” he demanded. Killian snatched his arm away, turning his back on his brother. “Why can’t you be with her?” Liam added, desperate to understand. 

“You spend your days laughing at my so called absurdity with the Lady Red. Has the entertainment value run dry from this game of yours? Is it no longer diverting enough for you?”

“Enough!” Liam cried. “Why do you insist this can never happen? Why can’t you be with her?”

Killian spun to face his brother now, anguish and anger erupting from him in bitter, mangled words. “Because she’s the bloody princess! And I am nothing!” 

Liam fell silent, staring open-mouthed at his younger brother and all the pain he carried. 

Killian’s chest heaved, his teeth grinding together, but all the anger he’d used to fortify himself crumbled when he was compelled to reveal the truth. “She’s the princess, and I am nothing,” he repeated, calmer now, quiet misery and resolve. 

“That’s not true,” Liam protested weakly.

“I’m nothing—a former slave, not even a sailor, a swordsman, a knight. I have nothing I can offer her, nothing I can give that would make me worthy. I will never be enough for her, whether she has a kingdom or not. My only value to her is the blade I carry, the protection I can offer her and her brother. This, at least, I can offer.”

“That’s not true,” Liam insisted, crossing the space to his brother so he could grasp his upper arms, hold him in place, force him to understand that he couldn’t be more wrong. “You are not nothing. You have never been nothing. You are a good man, Killian. You don’t need flashy talents or titles to prove that. And yes, you are a valuable swordsman, that is true. But you must see that there is more that makes you worthy, Killian. She knows it, it’s time for you to learn that, as well.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Killian muttered, pulling away from his grasp, drifting into the darkness. 

“Of course it matters,” Liam replied, though he made no attempt to follow his brother as he withdrew to stare at the woods beyond. 

“It can never be,” Killian said, his eyes tracing the silhouettes of the trees. 

“Well that’s just ridiculous,” a voice called.

The Jones brothers started, wheeling around to find their prince looking displeased, clearly having just returned from his self-inflicted exile. 

“Your Highness,” Liam scrambled to greet him properly.

“I thought we were past this,” Leo huffed. “Please, call me Leo.”

“That’s not—”

Leo’s sharp look cut off the elder Jones. “Moving on,” he said, clearing his throat and returning his attention to Killian. “You are being ridiculous.”

Killian floundered. “Your Hi—er, Leo, I must apologize for whatever you have heard. I assure you that I am cognizant of my place and would never—”

Leo let out a groan, effectively silencing the absurdity. “Cut it out,” he whined.

“Allow me to apologize—” Liam attempted, but he was as unsuccessful as his brother.

“For what? For finally confronting your brother about what we’ve all been wondering forever?”

Liam blinked in shock, half a smile curling his lips though he was too stunned to fully process this particular development. 

Leo shook his head, approaching Killian with a determination that echoed his sister’s. “If you won’t listen to your brother, then listen to me. I’ll pull rank if I have to,” he began, but his joke fell flat as Killian had yet to breathe. “There is absolutely nothing you need to apologize for. Unless you want to apologize for taking so long, but I’ll forgive you for that. 

“From the moment I saw the two of you together, I knew. You’re not exactly the best at not hovering, and she can’t stand to let her eyes stray from you for more than twenty seconds. So I guess I would let you apologize for taking so long, but what I won’t do is let you apologize for loving my sister.”

“But I have no right to love your sister.”

For a second, Killian was certain the prince was going to smack him. “What I wouldn’t give for one of my mother’s speeches right now,” Leo grumbled, mostly to himself. “First of all, Killian, that is not true. Secondly, love is not something that can or should be controlled, and it certainly isn’t something anyone does or doesn’t have a ‘right’ to feel.

“You are so blinded by your fear and your doubt that you can’t even see what’s right in front of you. And both of you are too damn stubborn—but I’m tired of it. Take a breath and stop being a coward and an idiot, please, because I have always wanted a brother, and you’re just about the best one I could imagine having.” 

Killian could not speak, move, or do anything but stare at him, unwilling or unable to comprehend his words. 

“Bravo, lad,” Liam said, patting Leo on the back. “Now, if only we could find a room to lock them in together, then perhaps we would finally make some progress.”

Leo grinned, suddenly considering the benefits of having a second brother. He exchanged a look with his new ally, then turned in the direction of camp. “Now, are you coming, or do you require a formal invitation?”

— —

He’d hoped his brash words would spur Killian on, but all it did was make him…thoughtful. He’d been slow to return, trailing behind even his brother, and when he found the others gathered around the fire for their meal, he’d planted himself on the opposite side from Emma, leaning against a tree trunk and staring off into the distance. 

Leo glanced at his sister beside him, but her gaze was too fixed on the ground to be natural. He shook his head at the pair—more suited for each other than either of them realized—and he made up his mind.

It only took him a few minutes to set it all in motion, one quick excuse to Emma, a few words exchanged with an ally, and then he formed a tiny lie that his sister would not see through, a request to follow him so they could have space to talk. 

Leo brought her to a stop in an adequate clearing, making note of the exact position and perfect distance from their camp. And then he left, promising to return in a moment. How she fell for that classic trick, he would never understand.

Emma huffed, nudging a few twigs with her foot as she waited impatiently for him to come back. Her annoyance was a petty thing, stemming from his casual greeting upon his return to camp for the night, as if she hadn’t stood waiting in their spot and worrying that something had happened when he didn’t appear as quickly as he had before.

She spun when she heard him approach, only to find her brother towing an unsuspecting Killian behind him.

“Leo?”

“Bloody hell, mate, what are—”

Killian’s words caught in his throat when his eyes landed on Emma, but Leo’s grip didn’t lessen as he brought him to stand in front of his sister. 

“What are you doing?” Emma demanded, crossing her arms.

Leo released his hold on Killian, shooting her a smile. “Well, since I have no room to lock you two into, this will have to do.”

“What?” Killian asked, confusion mingling with his irritation. 

“You two are gonna stay here, alone, until you talk about everything.”

“We’re what?”

“Mate, you can’t possibly—”

Leo raised a hand, and they both fell silent. “Nope. This isn’t just about the two of you anymore. Your yearning looks are getting distracting. So now shut up, stay here, and talk!” he ordered firmly. For good measure, he pushed Emma a bit closer to Killian, and then he scurried away, certainly far too proud of himself. 

Neither spoke nor made any move until the sound of Leo’s footsteps faded into silence.

“I’m so sorry,” Emma said, “I cannot believe him.”

“No, Swan, there’s no need to apologize,” Killian insisted. 

They both shifted uncomfortably, glancing away and into the darkness. A few minutes passed with them unable to so much as look at each other, and then Emma sighed.

“As irritating as my brother is, perhaps he’s right,” she said. “And I suspect that if we go back now, he’s just going to drag us right back out here,” she mumbled, risking a glance at Killian’s face.

“He or my brother will, aye,” Killian replied somewhat bitterly. 

“So maybe we should…talk?” 

Killian’s expression darkened, his jaw ticking. “You needn’t say anything you don’t wish to,” he said, “and your brother or mine certainly shouldn’t be forcing you.”

She sighed, turning to find a seat on a fallen log a few feet away. “But maybe we should talk. If you want to,” she added quickly. 

“Swan…”

“Or I can talk. Or you can walk away, and we can just keep doing whatever it is we’re doing,” she said, her ire rising unjustly. “But I—” A jagged breath nearly choked her. “I’m not sure how much longer I can stand this, Killian.”

His shoulders sagged before he could hide his pain, a mask of resolve settling over his moonlit features. “If my presence distresses you, Captain, I will break my promise and we can part ways.”

Emma shot up, grabbing his hand before she could prevent herself. “No, gods. That’s not what I want. Not even close.”

His eyes searched hers. “What do you want?” he asked, his voice no louder than a whisper. Their hands were still joined, radiating warmth where they touched. 

“I want…” she hesitated, losing herself in his gaze. “I want you to be happy.”

“Swan,” he breathed, desperate and breaking.

“I want you to be safe, I want you to be cared for. I want you to be protected. I want you to never have to face a Black Knight again, but also…I never want to face a Black Knight again without you by my side. I want you to do whatever makes you happy. I want you to do whatever is best for you—and—and Killian, I am absolutely terrified that I’m not what’s best for you.” Tears spilled onto her cheeks, but she made no move to brush them away. “I don’t know if I can give you the happiness I want you to have, the happiness you deserve to have, and I know I can carry on in this war if you aren’t by my side, but even the thought of facing the next sunrise without you there—”

“Emma,” Killian cried, taking her other hand in his. “Emma, please.”

She wished she could take back her tears. Her eyes squeezed shut. “You can go. I can let you go, I swear. I am strong enough, I promise.”

“But I’m not.” 

She blinked away some droplets, inspecting his face for what she hoped to see and what she hoped she wouldn’t. “What?”

He shook his head at himself or his thoughts, dropping onto his knees in front of her. He could do nothing else. “I am so sorry, Your Highness. I have tried to keep my distance, I know I’m not—that I could never be—what you deserve, but I’m not strong enough to let you go. I promised weeks ago that I would never leave your side, but it was not the promise it should have been. I have not followed you solely because you are my captain, my princess, or because you will one day be my queen. 

“I thank the gods every day that you saved my brother and myself from our fate. I have watched you face great evil, I have stood helplessly by as you have buried your sorrow and bravely, regally led us onward. Your cleverness, your tenacity, your abilities with a blade—I cannot count the ways you have impressed me, challenged me, brought hope back to me. It is for all of these reasons but also regardless of them that I love you. 

“So while you are my princess and my captain, and while you do have my loyalty, my allegiance, and my sword, you also have me. My heart is yours, my darling Emma, my Swan Queen. I am yours for as long as you will have me.”

Emma fell to her knees, unable to stand above him a second longer. “Killian,” she murmured, letting go of his hands only so she could hold his face. “I love you.” 

He reached up, his fingers tentative yet imploring at her wrist. “How?”

“What do you mean how?”

“You’re a princess, Swan, and I am nothing.”

She shook her head. “No, Killian. You are absolutely everything. Now please, just—just kiss me.”  

Warmth burst at his touch, at the caress of his mouth against hers, and the world fluttered away into nothing, leaving only them and their lips and their embrace. Her hands moved from his cheeks to bury in his hair, to tease at the nape of his neck, but they were no longer just hands, they were anchors or tethers binding them and their breath and their life—because they weren’t separate, not anymore, not when their hearts beat in tandem and their lips moved together as if they’d always done that, and they were linked, their lives entwined into one perfectly woven thread that was stronger than any enemy they’d ever face. 

They lost themselves in the feeling of truth, in the wonder and beauty of knowing and being known, and when they parted to catch their breath, their arms moved to hold each other close, sealing their promise in the embrace of what could only be True Love.

[thegeminisage]

Hmm. 20-22 inclusive …. making you be negative 😈 I’m assuming you’ll do zelda but as a scholar I’m also interested in your spn thoughts so you pick mwah

oooh dealer's choice this is so tough...what if i just answer for both LMAO im so sorry ok Lets Go

20. part of canon you found tedious or boring

for zelda: i really, really wish i liked wind waker. i wanna like wind waker so fucking bad. i love wind waker's story. i love wind waker's ganondorf. i love how bright and cheerful the graphics are contrasted with how solemn it is underground. i love the dungeons and the gameplay. but god i HATE the cartoony little balloon heads. it takes me right out of those serious moments. i don't mind stylization but if it could have been just a LITTLE BIT. less stylized. just a LITTLE LESS like animal crossing characters. it's beautiful to look at but for a game with such serious hidden elements WHICH I LOVE i find trouble taking it seriously.

for spn: god, all of crowley's little arcs. he was almost never interesting, and while you can excuse bad writing for cas because it's cas, you can't make crowley happen. fetch is never gonna happen! you can show me his fun hot mom and his dead son and it still isn't happening! he's just the walking talking embodiment of the "angels and demons are just like OFFICE WORKERS" trope which i hate so fucking deeply because it's the least sexy direction they ever took and the exact opposite of what i want from my angels and demons. all of the middle seasons suffered deeply from this. crowley COULD have been interesting, but tbh, i liked him best in the season they killed him off.

21. part of canon you think is overhyped

for zelda: i could do wind waker again but actually i completely understand the hype, bc wind waker is a great game even if i can't deal with it like a normal person. same with botw - i found most of the joy thru exploration, so it just didnt Hit on replays the way other zeldas do, but its influence cannot be understated and the hype is deserved. what if everybody is right all the time to hype any and everything about zelda?? oh wait actually. sorry. twilight princess ilia. idk if people hype her but if they do theyre wrong. love and light to her, she's Fine, but it feels kind of like a knockoff of malon (superior) and i generally dislike when link has romantic interests besides zelda, even if the love interest gets amnesia (wistful sigh). this sin was especially egregious bc zelda barely has any screentime at all, but i forgive tp for this because what screentime she DOES have is spent being in lesbians with midna. so it works out just this once due to the power of gay people, but that's some thin fucking ice. anyway, sorry to ilia and ilia fans for being a misogynist

for spn: i hate canon claire. i can't get into it in depth but like...sorry, even without the issue of My Own Claire Ideas, i still don't know if i could do it. being gay does not save her from having the exact same "damaged but spunky teen girl" personality given to almost EVERY OTHER TEENAGE GIRL (or young woman) on the show. to some extent she, krissy, mary from the winchesters, charlie, jo, alex, etc etc all have the same personality with a few defining quirks tacked on as an afterthought. do i love some of these characters? yes, of course. are they well-written? absolutely not <3

22. your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

for zelda: in general, i think skyward sword gets a bad rap despite lanayru desert's entire (waves hand vaguely) and zelda being a fucked up evil goddess who canonically manipulates link's love for her. AND GROOSE. never forget groose. more specifically i think not enough people have acknowledged 1. the champions corpses are definitely still in those cockpits 2. oot link essentially became a stalfos by walking into the lost woods without navi and never came back. hello?? generally those dark little implications that u have read between the lines to get <3

for spn: oh baby its michael!dean. i waited so long and i only really got what i wanted for one episode but it was so good. it was SO good. no one else is as hype about the fact that it took nine REAL LIFE YEARS to get there. a DECADE of my finite time on earth. but ohhh was it ever worth the wait. what else could i possibly write 100k+ about

[ASK MEME]

[monocryl]

The Knight and The Dragon

Prompt: "That's how the story goes."

When Childe's daughter arrived home after playing outside with her friends the whole afternoon looking forlorn, he knew trouble was at hand.

If someone made his daughter cry, oh, he’ll make them regret it.

“And what if it was other children?” Zhongli asked.

Well, Childe was definitely going to have some WORDS with their parents, he answered his husband. 

Childe scooped his daughter up, “What’s the matter princess?”

“Well, Lulu’s baba got her a storybook from Fontaine…”

If Childe’s daughter wanted a storybook from Fontaine, or from any other nation, he’d buy and give her one in a heartbeat. 

“We read the book it a while ago…” she continued, “And… and…”

“And…?”

Tears started to form at the corner of her eyes, as she let some of her adepti features appear. Two small amber colored horns materialized at the side of her head at the same time, a long brown scaly tail with a soft puff at the tips similar to Zhongli’s very own, wrapped around Childe’s arm like a snake. 

Childe wanted nothing more than to ease whatever problem his daughter was having.

“I don’t want to be a bad dragon and I don’t want to eat other people!” She shouted then tucked her head on the side of her father’s neck. 

“…Huh?”

—

Meiling then told him about what they had read about on the storybook. How the dragon kidnapped the princess, ate the people and reigned terror on the town until a brave prince slayed the dragon, saved the princess and the town. 

“But my Baba said dragons are friends and they protect the people!” She told her friends. 

“Not in Fontaine, they’re not. They have evil dragons that eat people!”

Then her friends started to role play the story and that had made her a lot more upset so she ran back home. 

—

Childe was scratching his head after his daughter recalled the events that afternoon. But at least, she looked calmer now.

“Is me and Dimi gonna eat people someday?” She asked in a small voice, looking at her father, worry evident on her eyes. 

Now, Childe knew he wasn’t a bad father at all, but THIS was Zhongli’s forte. He would know how to explain to their daughter about her own adepti heritage, how different and similar she (and her baby brother) was with other children her age in a way a child could easily understand. 

But Zhongli was currently asleep in their room after nursing their infant son. Dimitri had been fussy all night. He told Zhongli he’d take care of it, but his husband insisted that Childe just go back to sleep as the baby was probably just hungry again. Although, he was pretty sure Zhongli would definitely not mind to be awakened for this scenario.

No. He doesn’t want to bother his tired husband. Childe can do this. He had listened to Zhongli’s lessons about the nature of Liyue’s dragons to at least soothe his daughter’s concerns. 

“Baba is a dragon too… just like you and Dimi, isn’t he?”

She nodded.

“Liyue’s dragons are different from Fontaine’s. They’re… special!” Child said, “They’re very kind, very gentle and they protect the people they love.” He tapped Mei-Mei’s nose with his index finger, “Just like Baba, you and Dimi.”

Mei-Mei sighed, “I wish I have a storybook about dragons being friends with people.” 

“A storybook, huh…” The Traveler once mentioned making a story for the Yuheng so she’d pause being a raging workaholic for the Lantern Rite. Maybe…

—

One day, a handsome knight came across a large castle. He said, “Oh! This is the place the townsfolk where talking about! Now’s my chance to save the Princess and finally fight a worthy opponent!” So he bravely marched inside, sword on hand.

The castle was gorgeous and was decorated in gold and red, but was totally empty! With no other people on site to talk to, the knight continued his search inside and around the castle. When he finally reached the big courtyard, there it was… the dragon! It was finally the knight’s chance to fight it! But sadly, the large dragon was sleeping soundly and the knight thought it wasn’t very knightly of him if he attacked it while sleeping. 

The knight walked towards the sleeping dragon, “Hey! Mister Dragon! Wake up and let’s fight so I could save the princess!”

The dragon woke up with a big yawn and stretched its long body, “Oh, but Mister Knight, there are no princesses here, but…” The dragon glowed gold and when the bright light disappeared, there was a very beautiful prince on its place instead! The knight fell in love at first sight and decided to stay so that the dragon won’t be alone anymore. 

One night, the knight and the dragon noticed that the town was glowing orange… it was on fire and was being attacked! They quickly went to the town and defeated the bandits trying to burn the whole town down. 

And that was when the townsfolk realized that the dragon was actually really kind! They thanked the dragon and the knight for saving them all and haled them as heroes. 

—

“And that’s how the story goes!” Mei-Mei finished her story with a large grin on her face, blue eyes shining brightly. 

Zhongli chuckled and kissed his daughter on the forehead before tucking her in bed, “Its a beautiful tale, my dear. I’m sure your friend would love it.”

The girl beamed, “I hope so! Papa said its from Snezhnaya! I’m so excited to tell it to them tomorrow…. Do you think Dimi would love it too?”

“I’m sure he’ll love it as well.”

“Goodnight Baba, I love you.”

“Sweet dreams, I love you too, dear.”

—

“The Knight and The Dragon, hmm?” Zhongli sat beside Childe on their bed.

Childe rubbed the back of his neck feeling a little bit shy now that he heard his made up story from his daughter, “Ahahaha, I swear, I could’ve done better if there was more time.” His daughter did put him on quite a spot after all. 

Zhongli shook his head, “No need to be embarrassed, Ajax. It was very creative, in fact, I enjoyed it. You have a talent for storytelling.”

“Eh,” He shrugged, “I did something similar for my younger siblings when they were still little.” 

The two silently relaxed on their bed cuddling, enjoying their alone time and basking on each other’s presence.

Hmmm…

“So… for the story continuation… what if the knight and the dragon decided to make little princesses and princes, what do you say?”

Zhongli raised a brow.

“I’m just kidding!” 

Or was he? 

[eldritch-flower]

alt: The Waking — see here for trigger warnings

Chapter 6 of 9 | [prev / next]

He made Thomas lead the way, unable to quell the fear that coursed through him as the man twisted the bronze door handle and pushed it open.

There was nothing there – no faceless copies. Nothing except a short stretch of red-carpeted hallway, looking a little worse for wear, and a wide open pair of glass-panelled doors that lead onto a stairwell. Above them, a loose-hanging sign lopsidedly guided them towards Floors one to four.

Thomas seemed to notice Orville’s hesitation on crossing the boundary between his room and supposed freedom, and he twisted awkwardly around to grab his hand:

“Okay?” he asked. Orville nodded, swallowed, set his sights forwards once again. And if he heard Thomas’s sigh, and if it tugged a little at those veins the romantics enjoyed calling heart strings, well… that was his business. And no one else’s.

“Okay,” he said, allowing himself to be pulled gently over the threshold. Orville half expected the Others to jump out at him; for Thomas to turn to him with a face blanketed in skin, emotionless and joyless. Orville didn’t know if he could bear seeing Thomas like that, so cold and empty and lacking his chaotic abandonment.

But Thomas – this Thomas, real Thomas, his Thomas – smiled at him as he spoke, lips quirking at the corners into a tight grin, and his eyes shone, and Orville returned it waveringly.

“These stairs were bastards to climb,” the other man said conversationally as they neared those doors. “Why you were kept on the fifth floor of this fucking place is beyond me.”

“Harder to find, I guess.”

“Yeah. I guess so too.” And as they descended, Thomas’s eyes never once left Orville. He wore a frown like it was a permanent accessory, wrapping an arm around Orville’s waist as his mangled foot crashed and stumbled down each and every step. “Careful there, big boy. Wouldn’t want you to fall from the tower now, would we?”

Orville hated himself for the way he leaned into Thomas’s touch. “Tower?”

“You know, tower. The one the prince saves the princess from in all the stories? Guarded by a dragon, put there by an evil witch. That shit. It’s for kids I know, but – “

“Sounds scary.”

“Not really, man; it’s just for, like, bed-time stories and stuff. Tell me you know at least one fairytale, Princess.”

“Princess?”

“Answer the question.”

Orville hesitated again: He never used to hesitate. “My parents never read to me.”

And that, that truth? That was sad. But although Thomas’s eyes glowed dimly in the overhead lighting and his lips pursed with contempt as he made to attack the terrible choices of Orville’s terrible parents, he stopped.

Orville worried for a moment that Thomas had looked into his soul and seen that he didn’t deserve the pity. He worried that maybe Thomas had finally realised that he was risking it all for nothing, coming to save him, and that Orville could never be saved, not really, not truly, but –

But he had stopped, not out of anything raving through Orville’s rabid mind but because of something he had seen.

This was his house. He recognised the coffee table, the white, dismal walls painted and undecorated. This was where Orville had passed the loveless hours of his childhood, scared and lone, waiting for parents who didn’t want him to come home – where he dreamt that they’d realise their mistake, forgetting their little boy. In later years, Orville had lay on the couch that now sat before him, separated by space and time, and wished it would all just end. It was tragic, ironic, how sometimes some wishes were answered.

The windows rattled in their panes, shaken to their harmonic core by whatever otherworldly winds were spun by the storm that raged outside. Orville wanted to reach out, draw the curtains and block out the ghastardly scene – maybe drown out the sonorous, nerve-ending wails of anguish and fear; a languid, angry sound that was always close, but never quite nearby.

“Thomas,” he whispered, fear teasing his voice apart like cotton candy. The grip on his hand tightened.

“This- This isn’t real, Orville, don’t…” the other man’s words fell from his mouth like lies. This time, Orville heard a quivering in his voice. “It’s not – it wasn’t like this when I –“

Something crashed against a window with a wet, squirming squelch and Orville let out a moan of dismay, pressing a hand into the side of his head roughly.

“Do you see it?” Orville asked, words little more than a wisp of wind, drowned out by white-sound silence.  He heard Thomas swallow beside him, felt lithe fingers reaching and pressing at his wrist in an attempt to drown out his fear, searching for Orville’s pulse.

It rocketed at the touch.

“I see it.” Uncertain. Scared.

But Orville wasn’t crazy. It was real, he knew it. What they were seeing was –

What were they seeing?

tag list: @anonymousfoz @digital-chance @milatooo

(ask to be added)

[jadevalentine-writes]

WIP Wednesday - LoZ Pre-BOTW Fic

Welp. RIP me. I lost the battle to the LoZ/Zelink blupees.

Zelda remembered the day that Link returned from the Great Hyrule Forest with the legendary sword clearly. It was difficult to forget a day that altered the trajectory of your life forever, though she did try. Now, she wished she could recall how Link felt as he knelt before her and her father and presented them with the blade to banish evil. She wished she would have asked. 

Then, all she felt was her own unbridled rage. 

Rage at the circumstances, rage at her own inadequacy which was thrown into stark relief with Link’s triumphant return. She remembered clenching her hands tightly in the folds of her dress to keep them from shaking. She remembered biting her tongue to keep from screaming as she watched the greatest swordsman in Hyrule, her bodyguard, of all people, unsheath the majestic blade with a flourish and then offer it on his palms to her father. 

She remembered wishing he would have died in the woods like the dozen others that tried to find it. 

It was all so unfair. 

Three days prior, Zelda thought nothing of Link joining the search. 

King Rhoam had sent out a rally cry across Hyrule, asking the best and bravest adventurers to gather at the castle for a quest unparalleled in their lifetime: the search for the legendary Master Sword. It was all a precaution, he explained, against an impending doom they would likely never encounter. If anything, he saw it was a way to unify the people. A bonding quest to unite the kingdom. He never anticipated the large turnout, but then again, King Rhoam did not know his people, not the way Zelda did. 

They were not clinging to hope and rumor like the King. They were taking a chance for potential riches untold. She heard rumors from stablehands and maids that some contestants even surmised they could win Zelda’s hand in marriage if they returned with the sword, paying no heed to her only seventeen years of age or the blatant fact that she had better things to do than get married, especially to a chicken farmer from the central plains. 

Regardless of the reason, hundreds poured through the gates and set up camp, literally, in Castle Town. Inns were overbooked and tents were pitched along the castle walls. It was utter chaos, but King Rhoam smiled with delight at the sight from one of the castle balconies. 

“More eyes means a higher chance of finding the sword we need,” he had commented when Zelda joined him on the balcony a day before the search was to begin. He gestured to the tents bordering the walls of the town. “There will be many eyes.”

“And how many eyes have a chance of surviving?” Zelda asked as she gazed down to the crowded town far below. “The lore is vague, at best, and mythical items are seldom within easy reach.” 

King Rhoam sighed. “There will be loss, of course, but nothing compared to the loss this kingdom will endure should Calamity strike when we are unarmed.” 

Zelda squeezed her hands together as she glanced at one of the inner courtyards where a partially functional Guardian sat. They would not be unarmed, regardless of having a single special sword, if she could dedicate the time to more technological research. She did not speak, however, as she knew her words would not be heard. They had the argument too many times before. Research and experimentation were no place for a princess who was meant to save the kingdom. 

Yet each day that slipped by was one day more without her unlocking her supposed powers and every hour she “wasted” was noted by the king’s steel gaze. Zelda hoped her lack of success was because the foretold Calamity would skip her generation, and that her unfortunate offspring would have to bear the burden. 

Wisdom told her otherwise, of course. The issue was not with lineage or timing, it was with her. She was the failure, the weak link in her family’s history. She would be the cause of Hyrule’s downfall, the cause of death and plague and strife. And there was nothing she could do as it hurtled towards her. 

It was selfish to pray to the Goddess for the Master Sword to never be found, but she did anyway that night. She begged and pleaded for it to stay lost, because then at least she could be at peace with her supposed insufficiency. 

Zelda learned, however, that the Goddess could be cruel.

***

On the day of the start of the hunt, Zelda was surprised to not find Link outside her bedroom door as usual. She eyed the unfamiliar guard with barely concealed hostility. 

“Where is my guard?” she asked firmly. 

The man swallowed, and his armor rattled as he shifted his grip on his halberd. 

“I am your guard today, your highness.”

Zelda rolled her eyes and made a mental note to add a mental aptitude test to the royal guard entry exam in the future. 

“I can see that, but you are not my bodyguard. Where is Link?”

The man swallowed again, and the halberd swayed nervously. 

“Link is participating in the quest for the Master Sword, your highness. He and many of the knights are participating.” 

Zelda was moving before he had taken a step, her full ceremonial dress be damned. 

She found King Rhoam alone in their private dining hall and did not spare him her fury.

“Link is participating in the quest?!” Zelda cried as she stomped towards him.

King Rhoam sighed and gently set his teacup down on its saucer. “Yes. Why shouldn’t he? He’s the most competent weaponsman in the entire royal guard, let alone the best knight I’ve seen in my lifetime. All factors which played a large role in choosing him to be your bodyguard, mind you.”

Zelda almost let out a growl of frustration, but a subtle clank in the corner drew her attention. She stopped, at once feeling childish at her outburst as she realized who else was in attendance. 

Of course the king would not be anywhere without his bodyguard. And of course his bodyguard was Micah, captain of the guard, and father to the very subject of her rage. 

“Micah…” she breathed. “I am sorry.”

Micah waved a gloved hand and shook his head. 

“No need, princess. I am quite proud of the boy. He would also be proud that his absence at your side is so fiercely missed.”

Micah smiled, but instead of calming her as it usually did, Zelda felt her face heat unexpectedly. 

“Worry not,” Micah continued as the guard from outside Zelda’s room finally entered, nearly doubled over with shortness of breath, “I’ll be sure to assign the best runner-up to be your guard in the meantime.”

Zelda stood straighter and smoothed her skirts gently while avoiding her father’s glare. 

“Please see that you do.” 

She then turned on her heel and left without breakfast, an already weary guard and her father’s disapproval at her back. 

***

Then, she stood in stony silence as her father delivered a speech she could not recall to bolster the spirits of the brave men and few women who were embarking on the perilous quest. 

Now, she remembered how she desperately searched the crowd, trying to find his face. 

***

The first participants gave up in a matter of hours. They returned to Castle Town, defeated, to retrieve their bedrolls and head home. They made comments of a steep climb and a winding path into a wood that felt unwelcoming. 

***

The next day found a large swath of contestants returning, also unsuccessful, but more rattled. They spoke of an oppressive fog, of wandering for hours only to wind up back where they started, of whispers from spirits that could not be seen, but were felt, like warm breath on your cheek. Some were examined psychologically, and after being given a sedative and resting, seemed normal enough to be released by the royal infirmary. 

***

That night there were screams as the first dead were found.

They were ferried on stretchers, or what was left of them was. 

Some claimed it was wolves, having come down from the mountains. Others said they had turned on each other in madness. 

Those that believed in more than prophecy knew the marks for what they were: the tooth and claw of monsters, monsters that the world had not seen in hundreds of years. 

***

The second day was filled with silence. 

The silence of defeat. The silence of funeral. 

[prince-everhard]

Weekly Oneshot Challenge - week 16

Title: Responsibility

Fandom: Naruto

Rating: gen

Word count: 814

Summary: Team Seven gets their first mission. [part of the mokuton sakura rewrite]

-

“I can’t believe we’re really about to go on our first super-cool ninja mission!” Naruto was practically bouncing as they waited outside the doors of the mission office. “I wonder what it’ll be! Do ya think we’re gonna go rescue a princess from some evil samurai? Ooh, ooh, maybe we’ll be bodyguards for a famous actor! What do you guys think?”

Sasuke narrowed his eyes, his head already turned as far away from Naruto as he could get without breaking his neck. One of her new teammates was melodramatic, the other was hyper and dramatic. Sakura sighed, but still, she took pity on her loud teammate. Who knew? Maybe one day they’d be friends. “I don’t know, Naruto. My dad says genin missions tend to be a little… boring.” Naruto halted his bouncing. Even Sasuke seemed to lessen the degree of don’t want to be here in his body language. At least, Sakura hoped so. Sensei had his face buried in a book that honestly made her want to rip it from his hands and slam it in the nearest trashcan. She shook her head. “Before we can go on ‘super-cool ninja missions,’ we have to learn the process of completing a mission and behaving professionally, so that we represent the village well.”

“Wow, Sakura! Your dad sounds like he knows his stuff! Is he a ninja too?”

Now she knew that Sasuke was definitely paying attention, if only because he’d turned back enough that she could see facial features. “He’s a jounin, but not on the active duty roster…” Sakura was saved from having to explain exactly what her dad did by the chunin assistant that waved them into the mission office.

Naruto wasted no time marching into the middle of the room and pointing his finger straight at the Hokage. “I’m gonna be sitting in that seat some day, old man, so you’d better give me a super awesome hardcore mission!”

In the wake of Naruto’s bellow, Sakura honestly just wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole. She glanced at Sasuke, and he shared a look with her of honest shock and embarrassment. Even their sensei had lowered his book and was looking sternly at Naruto.

The Hokage, however, just chuckled, holding his hand out to the chunin next to him for a scroll. “A super awesome hardcore mission, eh Naruto?”

“The awesome-est, you’d better believe it!”

The Hokage shook his head, but he was smiling behind his pipe. “You know, Hayase, I think I will give them that mission you suggested earlier. I think that particular mission is perfectly suited to Team Seven.”

The Hokage took the scroll from the chunin and held it out to Naruto. “Oh boy oh boy oh boy super special awesome hardcore ninja mission here we come!”

“Naruto,” the Hokage interrupted, voice firmer than before. “Make sure you open that outside, with your sensei and your teammates. And maybe after you complete the mission, Kakashi will teach you how to return from such a mission.”

Naruto beamed. “Of course, old man! We won’t let you down!”

-

“Weeding?!” The disgust and disappointment in Naruto’s voice was matched by his face as he chucked the scroll and collapsed- are you freaking kidding me? Sakura couldn’t help but think as her teammate planted himself cross-legged on the ground and actually pouted.

Kakashi-sensei caught the scroll out of the air and read it himself. “Yep,” he confirmed, voice full of cheer. Sakura wasn’t sure if it was false or if sensei was that happy about Naruto’s despair. Considering how deeply embarrassingly he’d acted, she was a little happy about it herself. “Looks like Gabana-san needs us to weed his vegetable garden and spread some new mulch around his flowerbeds.”

Easy enough for a first mission. Sakura thought about her own family’s garden at home and smiled. “Well, it’s not glamorous, but at least it’s a simple job.”

“Tch.” Sasuke looked between all of them with a scowl. “Weeding a garden seems a little beneath us.”

Sakura saw red, and not only because she took care of her family’s garden while her parents were away. She opened her mouth to say something back- and honestly, she had no idea what but she was so mad at her teammates for acting like children- when Kakashi thumped his book down on the boys’ heads, one after the other. “Your Hokage has given you a mission, kiddos.” Kakashi, despite not even putting that stupid book away, seemed to loom over them. Sakura closed her mouth, her throat suddenly dry. “And regardless of your opinions of your status as a ninja, right or wrong, you will complete the mission to the absolute best of your ability. Got it?”

Kakashi’s eye crinkled as he looked over them. “Now, let’s go pull some weeds.”

“Yes sensei!”

“You’d better believe it!”

“Tch. Whatever.”

[sapphicsaus]

regal ties (pt. 3) - wanda maximoff

a/n: this is my birthday post! hope you all enjoy!

i ii iii iv v vi

Wanda refused to admit she already missed your company.

Pietro wasn’t boring, and of course she missed him, but he knew her. He knew how desperately she wishes to push his buttons, but he wouldn’t allow it.

That’s why she enjoyed you. You seemed to do her bidding, a loyal soldier. She could do whatever she liked to you, and you’d just have to take it.

“I don’t trust her, brother.” Pietro sighs, holding the hilt of his sword as they walk along. “She is better than you assume. She is a fine soldier, a warrior. I trust her with my life.”

“That is phenomenal, really…but…if she cannot save me from drowning-“

“That was a stunt you pulled, Wanda. You tricked her.”

“Ah! Never mind that!” He shakes his in disappointment, chuckling as they continue to walk on the bridge. Her eyes drifted down, not far from the bridge. She saw the path to the dock, and noticed something.

Stopping as Pietro began to speak again, she saw you. Leaving that girl’s house. The one she saw you wave at before. You were both laughing as she pushed you out of her cottage, she shoved your jacket in your hands, before pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

Wanda almost gasped, but she held to herself. She watched as you separated, a goofy smile on your face she couldn’t quite see as you watched the redhead walk back in. When you turned around, you began walking up, but felt eyes on you.

You looked up to see no one there, frowning as you began your trek up the hill back to the stables to sleep due to how light it had become.

<>

When you made it back to the castle the next morning, you walked through the halls, searching for the prince and princess. After a minute or so, you recognized the man walking before you, regarding him with a smile.

“Commander Rogers!” The man chuckles, engulfing you in a hug. “Y/LN.” You two separate, not knowing that Wanda was listening in from behind the door next to you. “How is the princess?” The question makes you scoff as your jaw clenched.

“No comment.” The man laughs, patting you on your arm. “I could put in a word, maybe-“ You hold a hand up in refusal. “No, that is quite alright. I-“ The door creaks open, startling you as you see Wanda standing before you.

“Y/LN, Rogers.”

You look away from her with a clench of your jaw, your eyes on the floor. “My brother had to walk me to my cottage.” You frown. “I had the day off.”

“The day ends when the sun sets.” You can feel the glare, and the air becomes tense as Steve looks between you. “You are dismissed, Steven.” Steve gulps, bowing as he walks off. “Y/LN.”

You refused to acknowledge her. She was testing yo- “Y/N! Look at me when I speak to you, please!” You quickly gulp, looking at you. “Come inside, now.”

“I-I cannot, I need to find your brother.”

“Than I shall come with you.”

“Princess-“ Your voice cracked. “Princess, it is a personal matter.” Then she starts to laugh.

“You’ve conceded.”

“I do not understand?”

“You are like a pussy cat. I have pushed you to your limit in two days, and I intend to continue.” She smiles.

Your eyes widen in fear. You begin to stammer on your words, and she continues to smile. “You evil-“

“Who was that girl?” The question stopped your voice and you frowned again. “What?”

“Who’s the girl, Y/N? From our walk, and the one you spent your day with? Does the king know his first in command is involved with lowly common folk?”

“I don’t have time for this, princess.” You shake your head, walking in the direction opposite of her. Groaning as you can hear her footsteps moving towards you. “Listen, I apologize for my hostility.” At that you scoff.

“Are you mad?! You grill me like a hog, and then immediately say “I apologize.”, insanity this is.”

<>

The days after that interaction hadn’t gotten easier. Despite the convoy being ready, the king made no move. Steve and Pietro had updated you, saying it could truly be weeks or months until they made some treaty so the fighting wouldn’t happen.

You escorted Wanda everywhere. Dances, tea parties, dinners. You kept silent, obedient. She kept you so busy, you barely had time to see Natasha.

So thankfully one day, she called you and Anna into her room one morning. Not thankfully, but still.

She was sick.

“Do you want me to notify the doctors to come and take a look at you.” It was a stupid question to ask, but she was a stubborn one, you’d heard. She nodded, so it must’ve been bad.

You raced your horse to the city where the royal service lived, running up into the doctors small office, before riding him to the princess. Word spread, and commoners began to whisper.

And in her daze, so did Wanda.

When she saw you there, patting her forehead with a cold compress, she looked into your y/ec eyes in awe. If no one was there, she’d kiss you just to taste what that girl had. She assumed it would taste like strawberries, you love those she noticed.

Or heard…from Pietro of course.

“You’re alright, my Princess.” Your voice so soft and smooth, and she was your Princess. Forget Sokovia. She didn’t want you to go, but the king had gotten there, Pietro by his side.

The king had dismissed everyone but Doctor Banner and the Prince from leaving. Their mother was out of the kingdom discussing dowries, and possible arrangements for her daughter’s marriage. God, Wanda didn’t want that.

She didn’t want to have to look at you and whomever that girl was, fawning over one another. It’s all she saw. when you got out there. The girl stood with a tall burly man whom Wanda recognized as the butcher from when she was young.

There was a smaller but older woman, next to a shorter blond, and you stood with them in the street, conversing. “CLEAR THE STREETS” The soldiers yelled, and you did, disappearing from sight completely.

<>

The next day, you came in to check on her.

“You look slightly less flushed.”

“Mm.”

You sat with her all day, not against your will. You were actually advised to stay clear, but Pietro sent you to read her a favorite that she got for her 16th. “Leave it up to you to save 30 Shakespeare sonnets.”

“You know I’ve met him twice.”

“Oh! Wow, that is amazing.” Conversation seemed to be friendly, and you both forgot that you loathed one another.

You read them, and the romantic ones hit her harder as your smooth as silk voice vibrates off of the wood. She fell asleep soon after, and you admired her in all her pale beauty.

“Goodnight, my Princess.”

Tags:

@sadpiscesheart

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hi friend 👋 I just recently found out about the necromancer that Mark plays in The mystic crystal 😅 and was wondering if you could do a Necromancer Mark x reader where she's from the same universe as Danny and Ninja Brian and when the final confrontation happens, she realizes that Mark is her soul mate and somehow convinces him to let the princess go, and persuades him to come with her?

If not I completely understand ☺️

Oooo soulmate stuff!! I haven’t done that in forever. I had to look back on my blog for inspiration and I’m going with this prompt:

“Soulmates that feel each other’s pain (as in any physical pain inflicted on one is felt by the other)”

......................

Why was the Necromancer so evil? Where did all that hatred come from? 

Was he born with it or...could he have been good once?

Those were questions that plagued your curious mind during the journey to the infamous Necromancer’s lair. You, Brian, and Danny were dragged from your world and sent on this perilous quest to defeat him and save the Princess.

Yep, some generic fairytale you three were thrown in. And none of you have the slightest clue what to expect once you finally met this evil-doer.

All you knew about him was from the King’s mouth--how he was vile, crude, destructive and...basically every other bad word in the dictionary. His abilities apparently involved fire, lightning, undead armies, and whatever powers the mystic crystal that imprisoned the Princess had.

In short, you were fucked.

Yet..you couldn’t help but wonder if this Necromancer was just an asshole for no reason or if he had some tragic backstory attached to him (as many villains did). You asked Danny and Brian, and both of them didn’t really care about his motivations.

“We got a hot princess to save, [y/n]!” Danny would tell you. “What else matters?”

“Yeah, you’re right.” You sigh, adjusting the shield on your back. 

Were you suppose to throw this like Captain America? Or just to defend the pair from attacks?

Perhaps both. You were a bit too eager to use it.

......

At last you reached the Necromancer’s hideout after getting past all of his defenses. Your “trusty noble” steeds immediately abandoned you the moment you dismounted, but did you blame them? No.

You would’ve been running scared shitless, too, if you didn’t make a promise to the King.

So you pressed onwards and entered the crystal-filled cavern, noticing skulls and bats with glowing yellow eyes all around. As Brian and Danny strutted in with all the confidence in the world, you remained cautious, urging them to stay behind your shield.

“Let’s not get too cocky, alright? We have no idea what we’re up against.”

“Pssh, this’ll be a piece of cake.” Danny dismissed. “Unless the bells of doom toll, we’re safe! He’ll never see us comi-”

As if right on cue, you heard the bells toll as everything around you turned red. And you looked to him in annoyance.

“You were saying-?”

Suddenly a swarm of bats started attacking you, and you shielded him, Brian, and yourself as you all ran further into the cave-

Straight into the throne room of the Necromancer himself.

“So..you’ve come from another world to kill me.” He grinned, pridefully admiring the crystal in his hands before setting it down. Within it, the Princess’ image was just barely visible.

“That’s right!” Danny boasted. “The King sent us to stop you for good!”

“No, he sent you idiots to DIE!!" The Necromancer rose up, wielding his staff, though he noticed you and paused for a moment. “Another fair maiden? Huh..are you sure you wish to fight me? I’d hate to ruin such a pretty face.”

“Not if I ruin yours first.”

He huffed. “We’ll see about that!!” From his hand he fired a lightning bolt, but you deflected it with your shield, blasting a nearby rock to bits.

‘Wow this is a pretty strong shield..’ Before you could decide your next move, you heard Danny gasp. 

“Wait! I know how to stop him!”

“Huh?” You and Brian glanced at him, seeing him holding a hand to his head, looking to you with wide eyes and a big smile.

“The Princess spoke to me! We must use the power of love!” Suddenly a teddy bear appeared in his hands.

“Wait where did you...huh??” Glancing at the ninja archer, you saw that he somehow manifested Valentine’s Day balloons and a cake. 

The Necromancer looked on, being just as confused as you.

“Stand back, guys! I’m gonna hug him-!!”

Immediately the hero in blue spandex was zapped, shattering both legs and being thrown across the room. As Brian rushed to his aid, you realized too late that the Necromancer was charging at you next, swinging his staff to sweep your leg and send you to the ground-

“OW!!” 

A man’s scream was heard, but not from Danny or Brian.

But from the villain himself.

You saw him collapse to one knee, groaning as he felt a sharp pain in the side of his head. He held it with gritted teeth, before looking up to see you holding that exact same spot where you hit your head. His golden eyes blinked in bewilderment.

“Wh..What is this?!! What sort of pain magic are you using on me?!” He snapped.

“I didn’t do anything! All I have is this shield.” You huffed, rubbing your head as you stood back up. “You hit like a girl, by the way.”

“..oh how DARE YOU?!!” He sprung up as well and sent out a fireball. Although you dodged it, some of the flames managed to singe your elbow. You hissed in pain as it left a burn mark on your flesh.

The Necromancer yelped again and brushed invisible flames away from his own elbow, noticing you were burned in the same spot, too. “H-How is this possible?!! How are you deflecting your pain back to me?!!”

“I don’t know! Is it technically deflecting if I’m feeling it, too?”

He was about to try a new attack, though he stopped and realized something. “Wait, if I’m feeling whatever you’re feeling, then....” But he shook his head. “No, that’s impossible.”

“What’s impossible?”

“I’ve heard of something like this. It’s...the magic of soulmates. It takes many forms, including one where they feel each other’s pain...” He looked at his taloned claws, trembling.

‘Soulmates..that’s right.’ You had forgotten. How could you?

Back in your world, soulmates existed and they found each other in countless ways--whether it involves strings or tattoos or countdowns. You’ve had yet to encounter yours, assuming you had the type where something special only happens once you meet them.

Could this evil man from a medieval universe possibly be your soulmate?

While the Necromancer continued monologuing, you decided to test something out. So you approached him, putting your shield on your back before flicking him on the forehead. “Ow!”

“Ouch..” You winced, once again feeling that same pain, but sure enough that confirmed it. He was the one. “Well, uh...this is awkward...” You trailed off, tensing as he stared at you, though not with hatred but with sadness.

“I can’t believe it. All this time, I thought everyone in this stupid kingdom had a soulmate except for me. I thought...I was destined to be alone, forgotten...unloved.” He turned his gaze to the crystal so you didn’t see the tears welling in his eyes. “I-I consulted the King’s wizards out of desperation, and even they could not tell me..”

“So you mean to tell me that you’re only evil because you weren’t sure if you had a soulmate?”

His silence told you that was true. ‘This couldn’t get anymore cliche..but damn, can’t believe my own soulmate doesn’t exist in my world.’ 

Although not what you expected, you couldn’t be happier to finally find him...even though he tried killing you and your friends only moments ago.

Speaking of whom, you noticed Brian pick up Danny--who was somehow still alive--like a weapon, but you put a hand up to stop him from coming over, mouthing a “wait”. His eyebrows only furrowed in slight confusion, though he didn’t move.

“I only stole the Princess to make her mine..” Hearing the Necromancer speak up, you glanced back at him, seeing him now holding the crystal. “Because I thought fate denied me a soulmate, but..it was you all along. A lovely lady from another world, brought to mine to kill me.”

“Well, it’s not what I expected either.” You awkwardly chuckled. “But look, I don’t wanna kill you. I don’t think either of us wanna. We can end this peacefully.”

“How?”

“Set her free and come home with us.” Putting a hand out, you offered him a sincere smile. “You don’t have to stay here and be miserable and edgy and all that. You can be happier in my world, with your soulmate.”

Still, he was hesitant to accept your offer, frowning deeply. “It sounds too good to be true, though..”

Then he looked up at you suddenly. “Strike me again. Just so I know it’s not a trick.”

‘Damn, is this guy a masochist or something?’ Danny laid there in Brian’s arms, bewildered as they both watched you kick the villain in the shins, both of you in pain after the fact.

While he was recovering, you grabbed the crystal and shattered it into pieces, freeing the Princess at last. Having watched the entire ordeal, she was astonished that her heartless abductor actually had a heart, after all, yet she smiled and thanked you, Danny, and Brian for rescuing her.

You managed to fully convince the Necromancer--learning his name was Mark--to come back with you to the kingdom. He was understandably afraid to, but went along with you anyway, using his powers for good as he summoned skeletal steeds for the five of you to ride back on.

Upon returning to the King, Danny was healed and everybody rejoiced....until Mark was revealed to be right behind you, in which they panicked. The guards moved to arrest him, but you and the Princess insisted that he was good now that he had found his soulmate.

Obviously nobody believed it, and he was gonna say some snarky shit but you elbowed him in the gut to demonstrate the bond, causing both of you to wince at the same exact time.

Realizing it was true, the King apologized--aware that he played a role in Mark’s fall from grace--but was hesitant to let him go with you. 

“Are you sure you wish to take him? You’ve seen what he’s capable of.”

“I am aware of the risks. But I can assure you of this, Your Majesty..he won’t bring harm to these lands ever again. Or any lands in any reality.”

"...very well, then I give you permission to take him with you.”

Upon hearing this, Mark openly wept right there in the throne room, falling to his knees as you knelt next to him to comfort him. You were quite tearful yourself as you finally found your soulmate after years of never knowing if you had one at all.

It was a shock to everyone, considering nobody’s ever seen the evil and hotheaded Necromancer cry before, though it was still a touching sight. It even made Danny cry a little.

Soon the magic portal opened, and the four of you soon departed, eager to go home. Though not before Brian killed one of the wizards to “maintain his rep”.

Once you arrived back in your world, only then did Mark let go of your hand, looking all around at the apartment you shared with the two men--plus a third roommate who was just chilling on the couch.

You chuckled at his confusion. “It’s not a castle, but it’s home. Welcome to New Jersey, Mark.”

“New Jersey..” He looked all around, then back to you with a light smile. Not an evil smirk. “I could get used to this. Thank you..and I’m sorry for everything.”

“No worries. We’re together now even though we had to cross 26 dimensions to find you.” You chuckled as you patted his cheek, kissing him soon after. 

The blush on his face grew and he attempted to hide it with his cloak. “D-Don’t bewitch me with your charms, [y/n].”

Danny just sighed and smiled fondly at you two.

The princess was right. 

The power of love defeated the Necromancer.

[har-rison-s]

pray, do tell

request: If you don’t mind me asking, request for Loki asking the other Loki’s if they have a s/o in their timeline during episode 5?

a/n: hi ! i absolutely ADORE this idea and i hope i'll write it out respectfully :)) i loved episode 5 so much, except for SOME scenes, and i especially enjoyed multiple lokis sitting around and talking, chilling, that's like... my dream place to be. YOU DON'T KNOW THE EFFECT PRESIDENT LOKI HAS ON ME. like it should be studied in labs and schools cos ??????? that feeling when he's on screen was just something else. also ! kid loki holding alligator loki my beloved <3. i'd love to be surrounded by lokis, me and loki actually have the same personality type so they're like... my people. sorry for the rant, hahah ! this one is a bit shorter than my other loki works, sorry about that :/ also it took me like 40 minutes to find decent gifs lmao. happy reading !! <3

masterlist

mcu masterlist

warnings: nothing really

disclaimer: lokis mentioned have he/him pronouns !

Weirded out by what he's seeing, and not entirely sure it's real, Loki can't take his eyes off it, either. The way alligator Loki drinks his boxed wine is just so fascinating to him, yet weird and other-wordly (he knows those well) at the same time. And he's weirded out more by the fact that he doesn't find a variant of him being an alligator strange in any way. He's had a few trying days, as he said himself.

Loki manages to divert his eyes off the creature with horns on its head and looks to the grapes he holds in his hand. He picks small dirt away from the berries and takes a grape into his mouth with ease. The taste reminds him of many things. His childhood, his home, his family... Thor, Frigga, Odin, Sif and the Warriors Three. Asgard. The Gardens, the waters, the Bifrost. Heimdall. Visits to the city, the markets, the celebrations.

Love.

Loki blinks, fooling himself and others by aiming to portray that he's not thinking about anything important. But he is. She was the most important thing to him, and now... Well, maybe during the New York heist, she's still fine, but after Ragnarok... Loki fears too much to think about it.

He wishes he could remember everything with her that followed New York, but all he has of their future is some worn-out tape in the TVA archives. Perhaps even pictures... He wants to live through all they had now, he wishes he could do that most of all. Of course, there's the finding Mobius and helping Sylvie burn down the TVA thing, but upon remembering her, it all falls into the background.

His first love. Not a god, like him, but she was a goddess in his eyes. He smiles now, subtly, at the fond memories of her. He noticed the little moments he had with her in the tape Mobius had, about his whole future. How beautiful she always was, her subtle way of laughing and going about her smiles and giggles, how exceptional and different her clothes always were, how her hair shined in any light...

“Did any of you...” Loki starts to say, and sighs shortly before continuing, thinking he'll probably regret asking it, “did any of you leave a... a lover behind when the TVA arrested you? Prince or princess?” He looks between his variants. Young Loki shoots him a stern look. “Apologies, my liege. You seem too young for that.” Loki bids him a polite smile, but his brain whirs. “How long have you been here, anyway?”

“Don't know. Time doesn't really... exist here.” Young Loki says and throws a salt biscuit into alligator Loki's jaws. “But no lovers in my lifetime, Loki.” He pointedly looks at the older variant of himself, nodding slightly.

“Not yet, at least.” Loki points out and gets scoffs and chuckles from Boastful and Classic Loki. He looks at them with a furrowed brow.

“Oh, you and your grand plan,” Classic Loki shakes his head before taking another sip from his huge cup. Loki only rolls his eyes, but still waits for answers to his question, “well,” Classic Loki downs his drink, “it would be no surprise to you that I had countless partners before I chose isolation. Partners of any kind.” He winks. Loki nods, understanding how much alike he truly is with his variants. “But I feel there is no one truly... truly made for me. Like midgardians would say - 'the one'.“

“In my case, there were many 'the ones',” Boastful Loki says, mocking Classic's use of words. All other Lokis roll their eyes, “I actually feel like every person in the whole universe was made to be with me. I'm just that irresistible.” He smiles pleasantly to himself. Alligator Loki growls again.

“That's another “liar” from him to you, Boast,” Classic Loki nods his head towards Boastful, who only shakes his head and frowns.

“I had my fair share of men and women before I was taken,” Boastful says, “must have been the same for you, Loki.” He looks at him. “Asgard was truly a giving place.”

Loki chuckles, but looks away from his variants. “Oh, it was...” he says quietly, “it was.” His voice grows even more quiet. Young and Classic Loki exchange a look.

“Do tell us, your mischievousness.” Classic Loki urges him. Loki shoots him a nervous look, then he leans back into the sofa and sighs, his eyes strictly focused on his hands.

“I had plenty before I met... one,” he starts to say, “me and her share a past, and, it seems, a future as well. After New York, I am taken to Asgard, imprisoned, but she is there. I fake my death and rule over Asgard as Odin, and she's there. I help Thor destroy our evil sister--”

“Oh, she was a nasty one.” Boastful says, shaking his head. “We used to have a connection, but then she just... I don't even know.” He shrugs. Loki eyes him for a second before continuing.

“We destroyed Asgard, but saved its people, and saved her. We make for Midgard, and she's there with me.” Loki sighs, his eyes gloomy. “And then... Thanos attacks, destroys half, if not all our people, and...” he can't even speak further. His variants share a look, each having quite the correct guess for what could follow after that. Boastful drinks from his cup in an awkward manner. “But I feel like that's another life I lived. Or another me. I don't know, I feel so... disconnected from her, from what we had. Must be the TVA and this... void. And all that's happened, all I've learned about my future.” He sighs again.

“Meeting her again would be a wake-up call, no?” Boastful asks. Loki shrugs, a sad expression on his face.

“Rather a sign that you're real.” Classic Loki says with a wide, true smile. Loki looks to him as if looking at a mentor. “I often felt like the people I loved and the love I had for them, even if it was not reciprocated, were a reminder that I am real, I exist and I can feel all these things.”

Loki considers his words, and then nods along, finding a truth in them.

“After all, love and all other emotions are the human part in all of us.” Classic says. “And it isn't always bad to feel like a regular human being.” Loki can also find truth in those words. Love makes one feel alive, makes you feel like you're on the right path, found the right person, found your purpose. It doesn't always have to be glorious, it can be small, but nonetheless important to you.

“I used to think humans smaller than us, more pathetic and puny, but...” Loki shakes his head, “we, gods, are just the same, really.” He chuckles sadly. “Having quarrels over the stupidest things, being as imperfect as humans... Sometimes I even felt like I was too good, too perfect for something like true love, which is a pathetic emotion that makes you feel all kinds of other feelings, but...” he smiles, “often times I felt like that, she told me everyone was deserving of love, even me.” His smile grows wider.

“She sounds lovely.” Classic Loki tells him with a kind smile.

“She was that, and more.” Loki nods along. Young Loki imitates the sound of a snore and throws a crumpled piece of paper at Loki's shoulder.

“You're making me extremely bored.” He announces and sits straighter in his chair, looking over the mess that is his palace. “Love's boring.” Young Loki throws a juice carton across the room, making a face.

“You are just too young to understand and know it, your majesty.” Boastful says with a wink, and the next juice carton is flying over his head with a snicker from Young Loki. Classic Loki keeps Boastful tight in his seat so an argument wouldn't arise, and Boastful hesitantly restrains, his drink almost spilling over his cup. Loki watches them with a sappy smile on his features, and decides this is a good place to spend eternity at, even without her.

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[fangirl-writes]

Pop Culture

Benny Weir x Reader

Request:  hey i hope ur doing well! would u be able to do a benny x fem!reader where she’s really popular and has a crush on him and isn’t shy about it. benny likes her a lot too but he’s scared that she’ll just end up leaving him for another popular kid. so she makes multiple public declarations as well as takes him on a string of extravagant dates to show him how much she truly likes him.

Warning(s): none. A lot of star wars references. Like. A LOT.

Notes: I am doing fine thank you! Sorry for taking so long with this one. This was cute. I got a little side tracked from the main request and just went all in with the star wars theme, I’m so sorry.

Y/N L/N was one of the most popular girls in school. That was undoubtable. She was a cheerleader, head of the prom committee, former homecoming queen, and her parents were one of the richest people in town.

But the fact that she had the biggest crush on Benny Weir, resident star wars lover, science wiz, and all around huge geek? Unbelievable.

Extremely unbelievable in Benny’s opinion, even if she had grown up in the house across the street from him.

And Y/N wasn’t shy about her crush on him. In fact, she was very unsubtle about it.

She left him hoards of candy in his locker, hung a bouquet of roses for valentine’s day, and stood on a cafeteria table to wish him the grandest of happy birthdays. 

“Benny!” She cooed as she walked down the hallway with some of her other friends, who were currently rolling their eyes so far into the back of their heads that the nerd squad thought they might get stuck.

“Oh, no,” Benny said, a blush spreading across his cheeks as she approached him, Ethan, and Rory, leaving her posse behind.

“Benny, I rented out the entire movie theater for a star wars marathon this weekend, if you’re free?” She asked.

Benny could barely concentrate on what she said because of how close she was. He could smell her sugary perfume and see the school fluorescents shining in her pretty (e/c) eyes.

He stumbled over his words for a minute before spitting out, “Can’t! Already got plans with Ethan, can’t back out, been planning it for months, years, a whole decade. Can’t miss it.”

“We have?”

Benny elbowed Ethan in the ribs.

“Oh. Right, those plans. Yeah.”

You frowned, looking disappointed. “Oh. Okay.”

Your smile returned for a minute. “Can we reschedule then? Is tonight good for you?”

“Ah, well, you know what-”

The screech of the school bell interrupted him and he looked relieved.

“Well, look at that, saved by the bell! Sorry, Y/N, gotta get to class.” He took off down the hallway. It was the fastest Ethan had ever seen Benny run.

You turned to Ethan, looking more devastated than ever. “He hates me, doesn’t he?”

“Who? Benny?” he replied. “No. No, he doesn’t hate you.”

“Then why does he keep giving me excuses? The old Benny would straight up turn me down...” You said, crossing your arms and staring at the floor.

Ethan put a hand on your shoulder. “Hey, Benny absolutely doesn’t hate you. He’s just...nervous, I guess.”

“Nervous?” You echoed. “About what?”

“Well, you’re really popular and he’s...well, he’s Benny. He’s just afraid that you’re gonna leave him for someone like David Stachowski.”

You pulled a face. “Hairy Dave? No thanks. He’s dog.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Ethan muttered.

“And you guys know I’m the same Y/N, right? Just because I run with a more popular crowd doesn’t mean I stopped liking nerdy things and stopped thinking about my nerdy friends.”

Ethan laughed. “It’s just a big change from how it used to be. You don’t have braces and a star wars backpack anymore.”

You returned the laugh, remembering how you used to be. “Well, I’ll just have to prove it to him. Will you help me?”

Ethan’s face contorted. “Ah, I don’t know...”

“Come on! Help me, Ethan Skywalker! You’re my only hope!”

Ethan sighed. You got him.

“Fine.”

“Yes!” You wrapped him in a hug. “Now let’s get to class!”

***

“Is everything ready?” You asked Ethan over the phone.

“Yeah, good on your end?” He replied.

“Yep. Movie theater is set. All up to you now.”

“On it.” He said before hanging up and shoving the phone in his pocket. He took a deep breath before bursting into Benny’s house and running up the stairs frantically.

“Benny!” Ethan shouted slamming his bedroom door open.

Benny let out a high pitched scream, falling from his desk chair onto the floor.

“They’ve got Y/N!”

“What?!” Benny bolted upright. “Who’s got Y/N?”

“A couple vampires out for revenge. They must have seen us talking at school the other day. They’ve got her trapped at the movie theater-”

“What are we waiting for?” Benny said, bolting out the door passed Ethan. “Let’s go! Grandma I’m taking the car!”

Ethan waved to Benny’s grandmother as he ran passed her, following Benny out the door.

He hoped this worked.

***

Benny parked the car and was about to run into the theater, guns blazing, but Ethan caught his elbow.

“Wait, wait, we can’t just burst in there! Look!” He said, pointing to the sign that read ‘Star Wars Original Trilogy Marathon - Tonight Only!’ People stood in a line out of the theater, dressed to impress in various Star Wars get ups.

Benny cursed. “Of course, the one time we need to get in there quickly they’re having a special screening.”

“We can use the side door,” Ethan said. “And here” - he handed Benny a storm trooper helmet - “we’ve gotta blend in or they’ll see us coming.”

Benny groaned. “They could be sucking her dry right now!”

“They want us, not her. And Y/N is not helpless. And I’ve got Erica and Sarah already in there scoping the place.”

“You called them before me!”

“They’re vampires!”

Benny just grumbled and put the helmet on, crossing his arms.

Ethan rolled his eyes. “Put on the costume and let’s go.”

***

Ethan and Benny snuck through the side door, dressed fully in storm trooper get up.

“This sucks, E. I can’t see a thing in this helmet.”

“What do you want from me, B?” Ethan retorted.

He suddenly let out a gasp and turned to Ethan. “Oh my god, E. This is a New Hope. I’m Han, you’re Luke, and Y/N is Leia. Yes! This is like my perfect dream.”

Ethan groaned. “I wish I could argue with you.”

“Ethan, Benny!”

The two turned to see Sarah and Erica running their way.

“What’re you guys doing here?” Ethan asked.

“What?” Benny turned to Ethan. “You called them, right?”

“Uh-”

“There’s a bunch of vampires here. Some of Jesse’s old friends that want revenge for his death.” Sarah explained.

“They’ve got the whole place on lockdown. They’re planning on locking all the star wars nerds in here and feasting.” Erica said.

“Oh my god, this is exactly like Star Wars!” Benny gushed.

“Yeah, okay, Han Solo, chill.” Ethan said. “But that does give me an idea. Where are they hiding?”

***

Erica scowled as Ethan and Benny led them up the stairs like prisoners. “I never agreed to being Chewbacca.”

“Shh. No choice.” Ethan retorted before pushing open the door to the control room.

There were three vampires sitting in there, they were staring out the small window, watching the movie before turning to the now open door.

“Who are you? And what have you here?” One of them sneered.

“We’re with you. Had to dress up to blend in. Caught these two trying to pull the fire alarm. Thought you might want to deal with them.”

Erica hissed at them and the leader, grabbed her by the chin. “Such a pretty face. Shame we’ll have to kill you.”

Erica kneed him in the crotch, making him groan.

“Look out! They’re loose!” Benny quoted, letting go of Sarah’s arms so that she could assist in beating the crap out of the three of them.

It was a good thing that Star Wars was a rather loud movie or the crowd might have been alarmed by all of the noise.

“All right, you scum,” Benny said, grabbing one that was barely conscious. “Where’s Y/N?”

“Benny-”

“Tell me!”

“Benny!”

“What?” Benny yelled at Ethan.

“They don’t have her. This was supposed to be a surprise for you. We were gonna find her in one of the empty rooms in the theater and then she was gonna take you to an empty theater and you two were gonna watch the marathon together. But now she’s alone in a room with a bunch of vampires around.”

“What?” Benny shouted. “For the love of- You go and get her, we’ll hold them here.”

“You mean we” - Erica gestured between her and Sarah - “will hold them.”

“Yeah, whatever, just go her!”

Benny pulled off the helmet and sighed.

“She really likes you, you know.” Sarah said.

“Come on,” Benny said with a bitter laugh. “Maybe right now, but once she gets me she’ll be off to the next guy in a week. That’s how they all are.”

“Not Y/N.” Erica replied. “She doesn’t get around. Never has. Her last boyfriend was a dick so if she’s pursuing you, she must really like you.”

Benny sighed. “Yeah, I know. I’m just scared. We kinda run in two different circles now, you know?”

“And you can’t overlap? According to what? The rules of high school? The world isn’t so black and white, Benny.” Sarah encouraged.

****

Ethan rushed down the hallway, looking on the door numbers for 2187 (a number you had modified for the surprise).

“Yes!” Ethan said, reaching the door. He quickly pulled it open to find you laying there on a table, decked out in an impressive Princess Leia costume. It looked like you’d fallen asleep.

“Y/N!” He called and you sat up.

“Aren’t you a little short for a stormtrooper?” You said cheekily. “Where’s Benny?”

Ethan rolled his eyes, pulling off his helmet. “No time!”

“Come on, say the line!”

“What? No, you don’t understand-”

“Ethan! Say the line!” You whined.

He sighed. “I’m Ethan Skywalker, I’m here to rescue you.”

You grinned broadly. “Thank you.”

“But seriously, I’m rescuing you. There are vampires here, and we need to get back to Benny, Sarah, and Erica.

“What?” You shouted, processing the information.

“Sarah and Erica are vampires. Good ones. But there are evil ones here that are planning on sucking the souls out of everyone in the theater and we’ve got to get them and you out of here.”

“What? Where’s Benny?”

“Come on!” Ethan encouraged and, just like the movie, you ran out first despite not knowing where you were going.

***

You met back up with Benny, Sarah, and Erica in the hallway, as they were backed against the wall with more vampires on the way.

“Where are they all coming from?” Sarah said, spraying a holy water gun and knocking one down.

“I don’t know but I know for sure we can’t get out that way.” Benny said.

“Looks like you cut off our only escape route. All the doors are that way!” You replied.

“Oh, I’m sorry, perhaps you'd like it back in your cell, Princess Leia!” Benny bit back at you sarcastically.

“Ethan, are the sprinklers still lined with holy water?”

“I don’t know. I never did anything to take it out.”

“Let’s give it a try!” Erica said, pulling out her lighter and holding it up to the sprinkler above her head, covering herself with her leather jacket and Sarah holding up an umbrella she had been using as a weapon.

The water almost immediately started spraying out, setting off the fire alarm and soaking the vampires attacking you, burning and hissing all the way down.

“What is your problem?” You hissed at Benny.

“Well, we wouldn’t be cornered if you hadn’t lured me here! And by using Ethan! I feel betrayed!”

“Oh, I’m sorry for trying to prove to you that I like you!”

“Ha! If you really liked me you wouldn’t have become so popular! Leaving your real friends to rot in geek town!”

“That wasn’t my fault! I did what I liked! You guys are the ones who thought I needed to change just because I did similar activities to the other rich kids!”

“Guys!” Ethan interrupted. “Not the time! We need a way out. Now.”

“Oh for the love of-” You rolled your eyes and opened up the trash cute. “Everybody in!”

“Ew. Do we have to go full star wars?” Sarah asked.

“Would you rather chance the holy water river?” You replied, pointing to the floor that was slowly filling up with more water.

“Good point. Let’s go!”

Sarah entered first, followed by Erica, then Ethan, then you, then Benny.

You all were spit out into the dumpster that was full of candy wrappers, old popcorn, and soda cups.

Erica toppled into Sarah and Ethan rammed into her. You managed to avoid their collision only to have Benny slam into you from behind.

You all groaned at the impact and rolled around for a minute, picking popcorn and sticky candy out of your hair and clothes.

“Oh, I’m gonna need a shower.” Ethan groaned.

“After this I think you all deserve a spa.” You said. “I’ll buy.”

“You better.”

“Well, that was not how I foresaw this night going,” You said, standing up with the others and pulling a candy wrapper out of your hair.

Benny stood up, picking garbage off his clothes, and let out a chuckle. “What? Did you think that I was gonna give in just because of your big gesture?”

You turned on him with fiery eyes. “Would you just get it through your thick skull? I like you, okay? I’m not gonna break up with you in a week, I’m not gonna cheat on you, I’m not gonna try to convert you to a jock. Benny I’ve liked you since third grade! I just got enough confidence to tell you and you keep avoiding me every chance you get! If you don’t like me would you just tell me? It would save me a lot of time and money!”

“Not that that would be a problem for you, rich girl!”

“Well, I’m sorry my parents are wealthy! I’m sorry you live with your grandmother and not in a mansion! We’re different but quit painting me as the villain in your pathetic hero story!”

You both were fuming at each other. Erica, Sarah, and Ethan were standing with wide eyes watching this go down.

“Well, maybe if you had just stuck with your real friends we wouldn’t be in this situation!”

“I did! You guys are the ones who treated me like I’d been converted to a cult!”

“Not much different!”

“What is your problem with popular people? You have some sort of nerd code that says you can’t get along with them? Weren’t you the one who was friends with David Stachowski?”

“That’s a different story! He chose us!”

“So did I!”

“No. You didn’t choose us, you chose to have sleepovers with the cheerleaders and go to country club parties and be homecoming queen!”

“I can have more than one group of friends, you know? But do you know who I had hoped would be there for me when I needed it? You guys. Ethan was. You’re the one who keeps running away from me!”

“Well, I’m sorry I think I’m not good enough for you!”

“You’ve always been good enough for me!”

“Well, then I guess I’m saying yes!”

“To what?”

“Everything. All of it. Every date you’ve asked me on, every invitation to a dance, every declaration of love. Yes. I love you. Yes.”

Tears were in your eyes now and you threw yourself into his arms, burying your face into his neck.

Benny hugged you back, as tightly as he could without hurting you.

“You smell like garbage,” you whispered.

He laughed. “So do you.”

Suddenly there was clapping from behind you.

You turned to see Erica slow-clapping. “Well, as much fun and as that rom-com moment was. Can we get out of the dumpster now?”

And you did.

It was safe to say your Leia dress was probably ruined, but you would probably keep it anyway.

Benny held your hand all the way to the car.

You hoped this was the start of something wonderful.

[once-upon-a-pirate-ship]

How Restlessly the Stars Do Gleam - Chapter 10: Lost and Found

Story summary: After the Evil Queen kidnaps and curses her family and destroys her kingdom, Princess Emma is on the run. She boards a merchant vessel with her godmother Red, and they intend to travel to Arendelle to seek magical assistance. But when Emma discovers the dark truths aboard Captain Silver's ship, she must put a stop to his cruelty and rescue the Jones brothers from their enslavement. Emma has to find her own allies and face her fears in order to save her parents, her brother Leo, and her kingdom.

Read it on AO3 from the beginning here.

You can find chapter 10 below the cut or on AO3.

There was a struggle of limbs, frantic and desperate but strong as Emma was pushed away but she pushed right back, rage and pent up aggression and months of no sleep, of living on the edge of her own blade—it all vanished when her opponent cried out.

Emma hesitated, just long enough for her to be thrown back, and she landed a few feet away, leaves and twigs and rocks digging into her palms that were braced behind her, but she didn’t care about that now. 

The man—no, boy—surged forward, intending to strike at her, but she caught him easily, she’d done it a thousand times before, and her arms wrapped around him, bringing him to her chest, resting over her heart just where she’d felt him all this time.

“Leo,” she choked out, and he froze, no longer attempting to escape her embrace. 

It was dark enough that he had to squint as he pulled back just enough to look at her, but he knew. She smelled like the forest and the sea, but also like buttercups, the ones she’d had father fill their garden with because she loved them so much. Months had passed, he had changed so much—but none of that really mattered. She was still his sister. He was still her brother. 

“Emma!” he cried, his arms becoming a vice around her, and for a second, he was terrified to let go. Terrified it was all just a dream, and he would wake to his painful reality, no idea where she was. 

The brush she’d leapt over rustled, a preamble to the appearance of one very alarmed Killian Jones, his sword brandished in search of danger. “Swan!” 

Emma scrambled to her feet, bringing her brother with her. Tears crept down her cheeks, but they were so unlike the ones she’d spilled in the last months. “Put your sword down,” she practically admonished. “My brother won’t harm me,” she added, her words tripping on the laughter that fell from her lips.

“Your brother?” Killian repeated, his sword slipping. 

She turned back to Leo, her hands moving to hold his face then his shoulders as she tried to inspect him in the darkness. “You’re okay,” she breathed, “gods, I cannot believe you’re okay!”

“I could say the same to you,” he said, pulling her in for another hug. “I was so relieved you were out for your ride—what that bitch would’ve done if she’d found you…”

“She did,” Emma told him. After a moment, she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. She didn’t curse me, not like our parents, or you—your curse?”

Leo resisted the urge to curl in on himself. He wanted to lie, save her from the gruesome truth, but he sighed. He’d never successfully lied to his sister, he was certain he wouldn’t be capable of it now. “It’s bad, but I’m managing.”

She took a step back, her hands catching his. There was so much they had to say, to catch up on. Her mind reeled, a mess of wishes and wants and fear—she was afraid to ask, afraid to find out. But some things, she had to know. Whether or not she wanted to. “Please, tell me you haven’t been alone all this time.”

A smile teased his lips. “No, I’ve found some allies. They should be along any minute…but gods, what is that fantastic smell?”

Emma laughed, reaching up to wipe the tears from her cheeks, pulling her brother’s hand along with because she couldn’t even consider letting go. “Dinner. You must be starving,” she said, worried again. She kept swinging from one end to the other—deliriously happy that he was okay, that they’d found each other, then deeply concerned for his well-being, guilty for not taking care of him all this time. It was giving her a headache. 

She glanced back to find Killian predictably standing guard, far enough to allow them some privacy, close enough to be ready at hand if danger appeared. 

“I’m surprised any of our knights escaped,” Leo said, his eyes on Killian. 

“They didn’t,” Emma replied. “He’s…a new ally. A sailor who has joined our cause.”

Leo’s eyebrows were high on his forehead when she tore her gaze from their protector. “Hm,” he sounded, and though he hadn’t technically said anything, his tone was very revealing.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing at all,” Leo said, his voice a bit too high. “Not a single thing.”

“Leo,” she snapped. 

A mischievous grin broke out across his face. “Nothing. He just seems very dedicated to the cause.” 

She smacked his arm, a gesture she’d done for years, but everything about their situation swirled within her once more, and she couldn’t stop herself from hugging him again. Leo didn’t seem to mind. 

“Leo!” a voice echoed from deeper in the woods, and though Emma had tensed, Leo’s expression made her drop her stance. 

“I’m over here!” he called back.

The noise had caused Killian to remove the distance he’d kept between them, and though he did not raise his sword, his hand rested firmly at the hilt. Emma met his gaze, and they exchanged a nod.

A woman appeared first, scolding Leo for not waiting for them, but her censure lacked any real bite. She froze when she saw Emma, fear glinting in her kind eyes. “Leo?”

“It’s okay,” he assured her, “Belle, this is my sister. This is Emma.”

“You found Emma?” The question came from another boy her brother’s age as he came to stand beside Belle. 

“Well, she found me,” Leo said, nudging her with his elbow. “She’ll always find me.”

Emma resisted the urge to smack him again. “Our mother would be ashamed of you,” she teased. “Your etiquette has become positively disgraceful.”

Leo’s posture straightened, his chest puffing out. “Please accept my deepest apologies. Princess Emma, would you allow me to introduce you to Sir Roland.” This time, she did smack him. “I can never win with you,” he whined. “And besides, you have yet to introduce me to your personal knight.”

Emma flushed, stepping to the side, revealing the man in question. “Leo, this is Killian Jones.”

Killian stiffened, bowing deeply. “Your Highness.”

Leo scrunched up his nose. “Oh gods,” he grumbled, “don’t even start with the titles.” 

“Don’t be so rude,” Emma snapped.

“I’m not—how is that—” he cut himself off, shaking his head in exasperation though a genuine smile played at his lips. “Fine. Hello Killian Jones, please call me Leo.” He held out a hand. 

Killian hesitated only a moment before taking it. “Your sister has told me quite a bit about you,” he said, working hard to sound casual.

“Don’t believe a single word of it,” Leo warned. “I’ve never done anything wrong in my entire life.” 

Roland scoffed. “Yes, because that sounds believable.”

Leo ignored that, turning back to his sister. “Hey, didn’t you say something about dinner?” 

Emma laughed, nodding towards their camp. “Come on, we’ve got some catching up to do.”

“Wait,” Roland said, his eyes wide as he stared ahead. Belle caught his hand, worry written across her features. 

“What’s wrong?” Leo asked, wasting no time moving to his friend’s side, a hand on his shoulder. “Roland? What is it?”

Roland shook his head, unable to tear his gaze away. “My father…”

Emma may have been sleep deprived, emotionally and physically drained, and potentially on the brink of collapse, but her mind snapped the pieces together. “Robin,” she breathed. 

Roland took off, leaping over the stream and heading straight for their camp.

Leo made to follow, though he couldn’t seem to get himself to take more than two or three steps from his sister. He glanced back at her, seeing beyond her tear-streaked cheeks that shone in the limited light of the crescent moon. Beneath her joy lay deeply set sorrow in her pale skin; exhaustion carved shadows beneath her eyes—they were jade, like their mother’s, but he couldn’t see the color in the darkness. He wondered how long it would be before he could (if he ever could).

“Seems ours isn’t the only happy reunion tonight,” he said, smiling when she did. It made warmth spread across his chest, settling on his heart. 

“Not by a long shot,” a voice called, though this one had come from camp. Red stepped through the brush, her teeth gleaming with her wide grin, and it was only a moment before Leo was wrapped in her embrace. “We’ve missed you, kid,” she told him, not wasting the opportunity to muss his hair. 

He groaned at her, ducking out of her arms and backing away, his hands working to fix the disheveled mess. “Red,” he whined, making his sister laugh.

Emma nudged him until he turned to face her, and she took it upon herself to arrange his hair—in that moment, just for the span of a single breath, her mother was there. She lived in the way Emma held her arms, how she curved a hand along Leo’s cheek. It was Snow White’s tender smile that tugged on her lips, it was her determined tenderness that carded Emma’s fingers through his hair. 

Red saw it in her, too. Emma could see the recognition glinting in her gaze when her eyes flitted to her godmother, as she watched over them with all the warmth of a mother’s devotion

Noise erupted from camp, but it was not terror or sounds of war—it was joy, it was love, it was pure happiness. 

“Come on,” Emma said, leading her brother towards the glow of camp, where all that joy and love and happiness awaited them, where they could share in all of it. 

— —

Celebrations had lasted well into the night, unburdened laughter rising like the smoke from their fire. It gave the air something sweet, something to melt away the bitterness and dread that had for so long tainted everything Emma saw, everything she touched. 

Leo sat just a few feet away, speaking animatedly to the group gathered to listen to tales of his adventures during the last months. Roland sat beside him, adding or correcting details when Leo tried to embellish. Robin hadn’t strayed from his son’s side since they had reunited, and so he looked on with fondness and immense relief, too lost in what he felt to truly attend to the story Leo regaled.

Emma knew the feeling well. 

Her warring emotions had torn her into shreds—when she couldn’t handle one more moment of their relentless penduluming, the curtain fell away, and she was forced to stare into the truth of everything she’d been avoiding. She couldn’t hide from those thoughts anymore; her interlocked joy and despair had demolished the walls she’d built to protect her from the last thing that hadn’t hurt her yet, the last thing that truly could.

Killian shared a log with his brother across the dancing flames, avoiding her gaze as he so often did these days. 

Everything she’d acknowledged to herself was painful enough: that she couldn’t find happiness while her family and her kingdom were destroyed, that she should’ve been spending every last drop of her energy to find and save them all, and most of all, that he pulled away, that he kept pulling away. But the thing that glared back at her in the rubble of her mind was beyond all of that. 

She watched him chuckle, his face practically glowing in the firelight as he exchanged a look with his brother. 

He had happiness now. Freedom. She refused to take that away from him, refused to put a target on his back—being her ally had put him in enough danger, if the Evil Queen discovered what she felt for him, he’d be doomed to a curse and guaranteed a painful death. 

So that was it. She had to let him go. 

Emma withered, shrank, crumbled in the wake of her decision. She was as broken as her kingdom. At last, Regina had gotten her wish. 

“You look awfully grave for someone who just found her brother.”

Emma glanced up as Elsa joined her, a reassuring hand on hers. 

“Sorry, I just…”

Elsa smiled knowingly. “You’ve got a lot on your mind.”

“Too much,” she huffed. “But I should enjoy tonight, while we have it. There’s never enough time. The gods know everything else will be waiting for us come dawn,” she added. It was something her mother would have said—at least the first part, anyway. 

“You should,” Elsa agreed, her gaze drifting to where her sister sat, her head drooped on Kristoff’s shoulder. “We all should.” 

— —

The party broke up an hour or so before dawn. 

Emma followed her brother, intending to move her bedroll beside his, but instead of making camp for the night, she found him packing. He tucked some bread into his bag, weighing his waterskin to determine if he needed to take a trip to the stream. 

“What are you doing?”

Leo’s head shot up, his wide eyes flickering with fear. “Oh. Um…”

“Um?” 

He sighed, securing his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. “We haven’t had a chance to talk, and I’m sorry for that. But we don’t really have the time to have it now.”

“Leo,” she almost snapped. “Where are you going?” She couldn’t hide the panic laced in her voice. 

“I have to go, a few miles at least. But it’s just until nightfall. I’ll be back, I promise.”

“I don’t understand.”

Leo took her hand in his. “I know. I’ll explain everything when I get back, but it’s the curse. I have to keep everyone safe.”

She snatched her hand back, desperate and confused. “Safe from what? Leo, tell me what’s going on. Tell me how I can help you.”

“Emma, please. We’re running out of time.”

“Safe from what, Leo?” she demanded.

“From me.”

Emma swayed, her shock putting her off balance. “Leo,” she breathed—it was a quiet sound but not without weight, anchored by fear and heartache and hopelessness. 

He took a few more steps, his hands latching onto her arms, steadying her. “Everything’s gonna be okay, Emma. I promise. I just need you to trust me. Let me do what I have to, and tomorrow, I’ll tell you everything. Even the things I’d rather you didn’t know.”

She studied his face, seeing an intensity she’d never known him to possess. “You really have to go? Now?”

He nodded. “Yes. Will you let me?”

She deflated. “Yeah.”

He took a shaky breath, waiting only a second before pulling her against him. If they’d learned anything all those months ago, it was that you never knew when a hug would be the last. 

“Thank you, Emma. I’ll be back once the stars are in the sky again. You should get some sleep.”

She let him go, watching until he disappeared, all while the emptiness threatening to swallow her heart stole the newly returned pieces—once again, she was shattered.

“He really will be back,” a voice called.

Emma spun to find Roland, hesitance written across his face. “Why did he have to go?”

“To keep us safe,” Roland replied. “He would’ve explained earlier, I know, but I don’t think he wanted to…spoil your reunion. Or however he rationalized it.”

Emma took a deep breath, ordering her emotions to calm themselves. “You know him pretty well then, huh?”

Roland shifted, straightening his posture in a way that her mother would have been proud of. “He rescued me from the Evil Queen’s dungeons. We’ve fought together for months, survived. Done things neither of us—” he paused, shaking his head to dispel the memory. “I knew my father would welcome me back with open arms, but Leo always worried…”

“That our parents wouldn’t, after everything we’ve done.” Emma was familiar with the concept. 

“He’s been looking for you since we broke out. Kept insisting that you’d always find each other. And I’ve never seen him so happy as he was tonight. There may be things you don’t know yet about him, but at least be content in knowing that.”

Emma swallowed her fear, nodding. “Thank you.”

“Get some rest. He’ll be snippy if you’re exhausted when he gets back,” Roland said, heading back to his father. 

She knew he was right, the thought of it made her smile. But her gaze returned to the place she’d last seen her brother, and then she couldn’t get her feet to move further away from him. Emma stood there, her eyes on the trees, until the first bit of the sun peaked over the horizon. 

Red came to stand beside her, taking her hand, sharing her strength. “I could follow him, you know.”

“We can’t.”

“Then at least sleep. You can’t just stand here all day,” she said.

“I don’t want to move,” Emma replied, hating that she could see the color of the leaves now. 

“We don’t have to,” Red told her. 

Emma tore her eyes away, instead finding her bag and bedroll laid out a few feet behind where she stood. “Thank you,” she said, dropping onto the mat as the exhaustion dragged her down. 

“It’s not me you should thank.”

Emma’s lips parted to ask, but instead she glanced back towards the center of camp where Killian was arranging his own bedroll. “Of course,” she sighed.

“At some point, Emma, you’re going to have to accept it,” Red told her, sitting beside her, smoothing her cloak so she could get comfortable. 

Emma didn’t have the energy to fight her on it, not now. After a few hours of sleep, perhaps. She closed her eyes, pushing away everything else. But as she fell to sleep, a trembling cold crept over her. Even as the sun rose.

— —

Leo buckled from the pain, ice blooming where fire spread across his skin that tore into scales, but despite all of that, he smiled. His teeth turned to daggers that sliced into his lips, but he could not care. The curse would not break him. It hadn’t, even after months of trying, and now he had his sister back, and there was nothing they couldn’t do together. It was only a matter of time before they were reunited with their parents—after all, they would always find each other.

[heyyyharry]

Deep End - Chapter 11: Date Night

…in which Ezi’s first date gets interfered.

Word count: 2.5k

AU: famous!harry, siren!mc, adult modern retelling of the little mermaid? lol, fake dating, enemies to lovers.

WARNING: MATURE THEMES

All chapters / Synopsis / Moodboard / Playlist

Wattpad link

A/N: sorry this chapter is so short. I was emotionally unstable when I wrote this last week :D I'll try to write more for the next one.

Also, please follow my writing account on Instagram: @allie.writes :) Don't forget to leave comments on this chapter!

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“Hey, do you remember Dolores?” Dawson asked.

“How could I forget?” Ezili murmured, eyeing her sister up and down.

Of course Ezi remembered Dolores. She couldn’t if she tried. Whenever she looked at Koa, all she saw was what she could never be, what her mother wished that she was, and it only made her despise herself. When she’d first arrived here, she had felt so out of place, but at the same time, free. She still revisited her old life in her sleep, which made her wake up screaming during the night. And despite all the struggles she’d gone through, she felt appreciated. Harry wasn’t anywhere near great, but he wasn’t bad. He looked out for her even though she wasn’t his kind. And she knew if her mother knew she felt this way about a human, she would not be standing here.

But why was she thinking about Harry? He wasn’t here. She snapped out of her thoughts and looked around as the vibrant atmosphere of the night market drowned out her thoughts. Her sister came forward and pulled her into a hug. She could feel Koa’s claws leaving marks on her shoulders, but she knew it was just her imagination.

Koa withdrew with a smile and lifted those perfect human hands with short blunt nails and twisted her hair into a bun. She looked so human, so natural. Ezili wondered how Koa it, but then she caught a glimpse of the trident hanging on a chain around her neck. She’d been using magic.

Immediately, Ezili grabbed Dawson’s hand and pulled him to her side. Koa tilted her head, looking quite confused, which Ezili knew was all an act. Meanwhile, Dawson was blushing. He cleared his throat. “So...Dolores is also here for the book fair. Mind if she joins us?”

“Not at all,” Ezili said with a tight smile.

“Great!” Koa said, hands clasped against her chest.

Ezili tried to figure out what her sister’s intentions were. Was she here to kill Ezili? Was she here to kill Harry? What if she thought Dawson was Ezili’s new target and was here to kill him? Also, how many humans had she killed for her to be here, dressed, act, and talk like a real human girl?

Ezili walked beside Koa as the girl went on and on about how she’d just moved to London, and all the places she’d visited and enjoyed. She must have got all this information from the magic of the trident. She couldn’t be more human than Ezili, who’d had to learn everything by herself.

“Harry?”

Ezili’s heart gave a lurch when she spotted his face in the crowd. It started with a feeling of comfort, like finding a warm bed in the middle of the raging ocean. But then a tidal wave of anxiety crashed down upon her, and she momentarily forgot about Dawson and her sister. She rushed toward him, pushing past a group of tourists and teenagers who cursed at her.

“There you are!” Harry said, spreading his arms. “My favourite fish.”

“What are you doing here?” she hissed and tugged hard at his sleeve. “Why did you follow me here?”

“I didn’t follow you here.”

“Liar.”

“I’m not,” Harry sighed and poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he looked around. “Where’s Dawson anyway? Why are you standing here all by yourself?”

Ezili had no time for his questions. “Harry, go home.”

“I’m here to buy books!”

“Oh, yeah? What books?”

“This one,” he said, grabbing a random book from a display shelf they were in front of.

“The Sex Life of Pets?”

“Oh.” His smile dropped as he read the title. “I mean, it does look kinda interesting.”

“Harry, go home. I’m fine.”

“I don’t think you are. Dawson left you here all by yourself.”

“He’s taking care of something,” Ezili said anxiously as she put her arms around herself and rubbed. The air was getting cold. She hadn’t had to feel the cold when she’d been a siren. She hated how weak humans were. A slight change of the weather could get them all messed up.

She was about to tell Harry to go home right now because her sister was here, and Dawson might be in danger. Ezili’s job here was to kill one of these men, not save them every single time. But to her surprise, Harry took off his coat and put it around her shoulders. “Come home with me,” he said, gently. “If you stay here, you might get lost among all these tourists.”

“No, you go home,” she said, pushing his shoulder, but he didn’t budge. “It’s not safe here for you.”

“How?” he chuckled. “I know London like the back of my hand.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Ezili, you’re acting stran—” Harry was about to finish his sentence when his smile vanished. He pointed over Ezili’s shoulder. “Is that Dawson talking to your sister?”

Ezili whirled around, relieved to find Dawson still alive, but the grin her sister gave her while Dawson was talking to a seller made her uneasy.

“Harry, go home,” she snapped at Harry, shoved him hard so he stumbled back. If something happened, she could only save one of them, and she knew for a fact it would be Harry.

“I’m not going home and leaving you here—”

“And I won’t save you if my sister does something again. I’ll save Dawson, and you don’t want to die, do you?”

At first, she thought those words were all harmless, until she saw the way Harry’s smile dropped, and his shoulders slumped. He said nothing, only nodded. Koa and Dawson were heading towards them now. It was too risky to have Harry here.

“Go!” she shouted and pushed him hard. He didn’t joke about it or react, just held her gaze for a moment and walked away.

“Is that Harry? Harry!”

“He’s leaving, Dawson,” Ezili said and turned to her sister. “Could you come with me to the restroom?”

“Yeah, sure!” Koa happily said, then waved at a puzzled Dawson as she got dragged away.

“What are you trying to do?” Ezili asked in Séren when they were far enough from Dawson, but not too far; she still needed to keep an eye on him just in case.

“Nothing,” Koa answered in their mother tongue. “Although Pretty Boy over there looks quite delicious.”

“Stop it!” Ezili snapped. “You’ve been breaking so many rules around here. You’re not allowed to use the magic of the trident for personal gains.”

“Mother entrusted me with it,” Koa mused.

“I’m sure she’d be happy to know what you’d used it for,” Ezili said, disgusted.

Koa’s dark pink lips curled to the side. “You’re jealous,” she said, leaning back, arms crossed.

Ezili had no time for this. “Please go home,” she told her sister. “I have things under control here. I’ll return in a year with the heart.”

“But you don’t have a whole year,” Koa said. “One year could be a lifetime for these creatures. Humans are fickle. They can stay married for twenty years and still can’t love each other.”

Ezili scoffed, eyebrows raised. “Does the trident tell you that?”

“No, Dolores did,” Koa said, twirling a strand of hair around her finger innocently as if she weren’t talking about someone she’d murdered for no reason. “She hated her husband,” she went on. “I heard her talking on the phone with someone about how she had never loved him, and they had two grown children together. Can you believe it? These creatures made up the thing called ‘marriage’ - a lifetime commitment, which they could not keep up with themselves. And as much as your pretty head wants to see the good in these filthy creatures. They are far from good. Not only do they harm other living things, they also harm their own kind. Physically and emotionally.” Koa put her hand on Ezili’s shoulder and squeezed. “That boy you’re so attached to is no different, Ezili. He will never love you.”

Ezili bit her lip and brushed her sister’s hand off of her. “Don’t tell me about humans when I’ve been here for longer than you do.”

“And yet,” Koa said, “you’re still here.”

Ezili wanted to tell Koa she was wrong for doubting Ezili, but Koa wasn’t wrong. Recently, Ezili had been doubting herself, too. She had even considered switching her target from Harry to Dawson, but she could not feel the same connection she’d had with Harry.

“I have an offer for you, Ezili,” Koa’s voice dragged her out of her own thoughts. She blinked at her sister. “Before your birthday, which was supposed to be your coronation day, you may come back to the Queendom. You’ll tell Mother that you cannot accomplish the mission and ask her to make me Queen of the Seven Seas. Then we’ll have a new Queen as planned. Our evil aunt can’t plot against the throne. And when I’m Queen, I’ll make sure you won’t be banished. You’ll get to keep your title as a princess and stay in the castle.”

Ezili hated that she wasted a second to actually consider the offer. “No. I won’t do it,” she spat, stepping back. “If I accepted this offer, no one and nothing in the ocean world would take me seriously. I would become an outcast anyway.”

Koa rolled her eyes and laughed heartily. “At least you’ll still be protected by the army and you’ll have a family. Or would you rather join the mermaids collecting gold all day for your sad little collection? Also, I’m sure the white sharks would love an abandoned siren.”

“I’m going to be Queen,” Ezili said through clenched teeth. “I’m bringing Mother the heart no matter what. Now you go home and tell her just that. And be careful with my trident that you wore around your little breakable neck.”

Koa opened her mouth to speak, but Ezili didn’t give her a chance. She put up a hand and shouted, “Dawson, let’s go! Dolores is just about to leave.”

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Ezili didn’t know what time she arrived home. She tried not to think about her sister’s words, which had clearly been for the purpose of making her doubt herself. She still hoped Dawson had had a great time tonight. They’d bought some books after she’d got rid of Koa, then stopped at a restaurant on the way back to Harry’s mansion. She’d apologised when he’d dropped her off for not being quite herself tonight, and she hated how he’d cheerfully said, “It was nothing. No worries.” Why did humans lie about how they felt all the time? If something bothered you or made you uncomfortable, why not just say it? Why did they feel the need to complicate things? It was hard enough for her to understand human emotions, and they expected her to be able to guess?

“Hey,” Harry said when their eyes met and she froze in the doorway. She’d expected him to be sleeping right now. “You look clean. Guess your sister didn’t kill Dawson?”

Ezili narrowed her eyes at him and kicked off her shoes. “No. Nothing bad happened.”

“Oh, man. I was hoping he was dead.”

“Shut up,” she said. “Also, I don’t think my sister will ever bother us again.” That, she wasn’t sure. She just wanted to be reassured even if it was by her own words.

Harry got up, hands slipped into his pockets. “Sooo...how was your date?”

Ezili pretended she hadn’t heard that question. “Why are you still up?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Had too much coffee earlier.” Then repeated, “How was your date?”

“It was fine,” Ezili said. "Why did you show up?"

"I was just making sure you wouldn't cause any trouble? Your name is tied to mine now, in case you've forgotten."

"How can I? You literally remind me of our fake relationship every two seconds."

“Why are you so pissed off?”

“I’m not.”

“You clearly are,” he persisted.

She let out a sigh, about to just go upstairs and ignore him for the rest of the night, but this one question kept tugging at her. So she had to ask.

“Have you ever been in love?”

Harry looked confused for a second. “No. Never. I think I’ve told you about what happened with my exes.”

“But did you love them at one point?”

“Well, I thought I loved them,” he said. “But looking back now, I don’t think I know what love is. It’s just...a lot of times, I want to be alone. Just me and Chilli. If someone enters my life and stays around for too long, it makes me uncomfortable.”

“But I’m also living here. We see each other all the time.”

“It’s not like I have a choice to kick you out,” he said, then instantly looked regretful.

Ezili padded across the room and stopped in front of him. “Why would anybody want to be alone?” She knew she didn’t. She was doing all this just to be accepted by her kind, but he, who had everything from fame and wealth to a supportive family, wanted to be left alone?

“You’re not the first girl to ask me that,” he said with a grin. “I think it has a lot to do with how I was brought up. I feel like everyone has these certain expectations for me, and when I don’t meet those expectations, I disappoint them. I just want to be by myself so I can just be me. I don’t want to adjust myself to the presence of others.”

Ezili nodded then moved a bit closer.

“What are you--”

She surprised him by placing her palm on the left side of his chest. Her skin tingled with the sensation of his little unsteady heartbeats when she came near. “But there’s nothing here,” she mumbled as if it would make sense to him. “You were telling the truth.”

“What do you mean?” Harry let out a nervous laugh and reached for her hand, which she withdrew before he could touch.

“Nothing.”

Harry’s smile faded. “Did Dawson say anything about me?”

“No. We hardly talked about you.”

“What about your sister? Why is she here?” he kept asking when she brushed past him and headed for the stairs. “Does your mother want you back? Ezi, what happened tonight?”

“Nothing,” she lied. “I’m just tired. Goodnight, Harry.”

“Ezi,” he said, his voice soft and pleading as if he could love her for a moment. But how could he? How could a man, who had lived his whole life without falling in love and prided himself on his loneliness, ever fall in love with a siren? He’d said he’d wanted to kiss her again, but there he’d stood in front of her and claimed her presence in this house made him uncomfortable. Then when her hand had been on his heart, she had felt nothing.

So had he lied about it? Humans lied about how they felt all the time. If they could lie about wanting to spend the rest of their life with one person, they could lie about wanting to kiss a siren.

Maybe, just maybe, Ezili should consider her sister’s offer.