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gachawolfiebloom · 29 days

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A Grumpy Troll and A Prince

Chapter 1: Lives of Misery and Joy

Tags: Comedy, action, adventure, and romance

Once upon a time...

In a happy forest, in the happiest tree lived the happiest creatures ever known...

The trolls!

These cute and tiny creatures loved nothing more than to sing, dance, and hug, dance, and hug, and sing, and dance, and sing, and hug, and dance-

Well you get the idea -_-

But then one day the trolls were discovered by a bergen!

The bergens didn't know how to sing, dance, or hug. They were the most miserable creatures in all the land. Once they saw how happy the trolls were, they wanted some of that happiness for themselves.

Eating a troll made them feel so happy that they started a tradition...

Once a year, every year, the bergens would gather around the troll tree to taste true happiness.

On a holiday called...TROLLSTICE!!!

—

The king of the bergens was fast asleep until the door slammed open. His son, prince X was already up and had come to wake his father up.

"Good morning dad!"

It was very early in the morning so it was going to be quite hard to get him up at this hour. "Dad wake up!" He was quite pestering, but since he was just a kid it was perfectly understandable why X had so much energy.

He began jumping over the bed as he just kept shouting "Dad! Dad! Dad!" If this exhaustion continued then they might miss this special day. With not a second to lose, the prince grabbed the king's chest hairs and ripped them clean off at full force.

"AHHHHHH!!!!" The king's eyes shot open and he yelled "X! What time is it?" The young prince squealed as he replied "It's trollstice!"

The castle doors flew open as the king yelled out to all of his kingdom "Trollstice! Our one day to be happy!" All of the bergens didn't spare a second as they all hurried to the troll tree that was in the middle of town. They all chanted "We want trolls! We want trolls! We want trolls!"

As they all gathered around the troll tree, a familiar voice addressed the crowd.

"Please give it up for your keeper of the trolls. Your master of happiness. Your royal entertainer..."

The figure that the voice belonged to turned around to find that it was...

"Me."

It was none other than the TV Adware, Mr Puzzles himself. All the bergens cheered, which pleased him very much. He did love a good show after all. "This is a very special trollstice as one of us has never tasted a troll before." The young prince in the crowd gasped. "He's talking about me!" Mr Puzzles stuck a hand out to X .

"Prince X, your time has come." The king gave a warm smile to his son as he reassured him that he had been quite the nervous one when he had his first troll. The prince nodded and took his royal entertainer's hand.

"I present you to the ways of true happiness."

He opened the gate to the tree and pointed to a flower that was sitting on a branch. "I have chosen a extra special troll for you." He took the supposed "troll" and bent down to the little bergen.

"The happiest, most positive, sweetest troll of all...and because every prince deserves royalty, I give you the one they call prince Smg4!"

In pure excitement, X snatched the troll out of Mr Puzzle's hands and whispered "Please make me happy Smg4." He stuck him in his mouth and began chewing. The ominous TV man watched with a smug and curious grin.

"What are you feeling?"

Suddenly, the prince spit out the troll in disgust. "That's rotten!" It actually wasn't a troll at all. Mr Puzzles examined it to find it was only a wooden replica of the actual prince. "It's...fake!?"

"FAKE!?"

Mr Puzzles turned towards the tree in shock and kicked it, causing thousands of copies to rain down, teasing the entertainer for being tricked like that. X started to get worried as his breath quickened. "They're gone!?" The king's anger started to rise as he sternly asked "Where are they..."

Mr Puzzles stuck his hands out defensively and said "Don't worry. I'll find them!" The prince could hear some kind of disturbance in the ground as he placed his head down closer to the ground. It sounded like...the pitter patter of little feet?

Underneath the tunnels, all the trolls were hurrying to escape this hellhole of a kingdom. "Here comes Smg4!" The trolls passed along the little prince up to his father. He had just been born and it was very crucial that the poor little troll was protected at all costs. The king of the trolls breathed a sigh of relief when his son was safe in his arms. "There's my little prince."

One of the trolls informed him that some of the others couldn't keep up. The king had sworn to make sure that none of the trolls were left behind and he was intended to keep that promise. He scooped up any troll that couldn't make it and generously used his clothes to cover mud puddles.

It started to become increasingly harder to catch up as the tunnels were broken into by shovels and pickaxes. What could be going on up there? That question was answered as all the bergens were ferociously digging away on the surface while the king yelled out "DON'T JUST STAND THERE! MAKE MY SON HAPPY!"

Mr Puzzles grabbed a pickaxe and yelled back "HE WILL BE HAPPY!" as he threw it into the ground. As the tunnels were collapsing, that very tool used to slash the ground had caught the king and he was stuck. A shovel was about to block the path so in a flash of heroism, he threw the injured trolls he was carrying to safety.

Luckily they all had made it to the end with the others, but one thing was missing. Where was the king?

"I don't think the king made it..."

They all gasped as it was fair to assume that their heroic and brave leader was dead. He had sacrificed himself for his kingdom. Just when it seemed like all hope was lost, a voice echoed through the tunnel.

"When I said no troll left behind, I meant it!"

The king was okay and...*ahem* uh lacking some body coverage.

One of the trolls realized someone was missing as he piped up "Wait! Where is prince Smg4?" The king gave a reassuring look and said "Don't worry. He's safe." He pulled the prince out from his hair as the cute baby chanted "No troll left behind!"

"Awwww." That was the most adorable thing they had seen all day. The king got back to the matter at hand as he ushered all his subjects away from this terrible place. "But we'll be a lot safer the further we get from bergen town." The trolls had all successfully escaped and were off to find a new place to call home.

Meanwhile at bergen town, the bergens had formed an angry mob and took away Mr Puzzles. "That's right! Take him away! Get him out of my sight!" No matter how much this adware struggled to escape, he could not break free from the angry grasps of the citizens.

"YOU ARE HERBY BANISHED FROM BERGEN TOWN FOREVER!!!"

When the overcome could not be achieved by physical force, Mr Puzzles tried to convince them to give him a second chance. "We can all be happy again! I'll find the trolls!"

They tossed him into the dirt and closed off the passage into the kingdom. Getting up and wiping mud off his face, Mr Puzzles was very irritated on losing his status and reputation. He had a broken antenna and a glitching screen while replying with a cold expression "And I'll shove them down your ungrateful throats..."

Poor X watched the chaos outside as he went up to his dad to ask him a question. "Dad...I never got to eat a troll. What's going to make me happy now?" The king's servant, FM, who was just as old as the young prince, watched the conversation while cleaning the floor.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. You will never be happy."

X sulked and wallowed with one final reply. "Never?" His father nodded and the realization sunk in that he would be miserable for the rest of his life. FM couldn't help but feel sorry for the prince as there was a strong feeling that just wanted to make him comfort that young bergen. With nothing but cleaning duties to do, FM sighed and got back to work.

After days of searching, the trolls finally found what they were looking for. A beautiful forest that was filled with luscious resources. The king looked at the sight and announced to his citizens "Here! This is where we will rebuild our civilization! It has everything we need. Fresh air, clean water, and...SWEET ACOUSTICS!" The prince took out his cowbell and began banging it as a catchy rhythm began to play.

~20 years later~

The prince had just finished reading this very story to some troll children. "Twenty years ago today, the king made us safe and now every troll is free to live in perfect harmonyyyyy..." The kids joined in on the sweet sounding key. "That's why we hug every hour!" One of the kids cheered. "Yup!"

"I wish it was every half hour." One of the other kids replied. "So do I, but that wouldn't leave much time for singing and dancing would it?" Suddenly, a question of curiosity entered this innocent child's mind as they shyly raised their hand. "Prince Smg4? Do the bergens still want to eat us?"

"You bet!" They all gasped. Dang. Very subtle to drop that statement on a bunch of young children after reading that terrifying story...

"But just because it's the only way they'll ever be happy."

"Isn't there anything else that will make them happy?"

The young trolls tried to think of solutions that could solve this problem. If it still hadn't been resolved for 20 years then it seemed very unlikely to easily clear that up.

"What about having birthday parties?"

"Or slumber parties!"

"Or staring at your parents while they sleep."

"..."

"I don't want to be food!" Four came over and comforted the frightened little troll. "Don't worry. No troll ever will be." Now back to the more positive side of things as there was a special event going on tonight. "That's why we're celebrating with the biggest party ever! Everybody is going to be there!"

One of the trolls piped with interest about a certain someone. "Everybody...?" The prince was quite confident that "everybody" would be there and he was going to make sure of it. He took out the cowbell that he had ever since he was a baby and began banging it with excitement. The leaves of the plant that they were in, opened up as Four did what he did best.

"Everybody, move your hair and fell united! Ohhh!"

He danced down the staircase and began sliding down a stem as he used his hair to flip himself into the air.

"Everybody, shake your hair and feel united! Ohhhh!"

He began making dramatic poses that models do as the music pumped him up.

"Yeah!"

Four started to hand out invitations from a basket he was carrying for the big party.

"Everybody's coming to the celebration. Imma hook you up with your invitation. Let your hair swing and party with me. No bad vibes just love, you'll see."

He and Bob began to pull out some wicked dj skills on top of some kind of bug-like creature.

"Do the D-A-N-C-E. One-two-three-four fight! Stick to the B-E-A-T. Get ready to ignite!"

The bug creature exploded into hundreds of butterflies as Four and his friends all danced together with all the trolls and all the other creatures that seemed to live with them in the forest.

"You are such a P-Y-T. Catching all the lights. Just easy as A-B-C. That's how you make it right!"

Meggy pulled out a sick beatbox trap as she danced some fancy footwork.

"It ain't hard out here when you're doing it right. Put a smile on blast. That's the troll life!"

"And I'm here to help you through it! Come on Boopkins, I know you can do it!"

Boopkins was trying to lift a huge dumbbell as Four's confidence made him shoot it high into the sky. Using this as an opportunity, Four took the basket of invitations and dumped it down for all the trolls to collect one. Mario wanted to take a picture of his pet, Mario Junior with the invitation. He framed the picture on the wall and tapped his chin in thought.

"Still needs something..."

Luigi got an idea as he took some glitter and threw it on the picture. Mario stood in silence until he turned back to his brother and stared intensely at him.

"That's gay!"

Four and all of his friends, Mario, Meggy, Luigi, Bob, Boopkins, Tari, and Melony were singing and dancing on a leaf that was sliding down the same stem from earlier.

"Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop the beat! I can't stop, can't stop, can't stop the beat! I won't stop, won't stop, won't stop the beat! Go!"

The trolls all began to hold hands as they danced and sang around the forest.

"Everybody, shake your hair and feel united! Ohhhh!"

Turns out troll hair could do a lot more than we knew because the trolls had made their hair blue and wavy to resemble and ocean while using leaves to make the boat while poor Boopkins was stuck as the sail.

"Sunshine day! Everybody's singing! Sunshine day! Everybody move your hair and feel united! Ohhh!"

The trolls began stacking themselves on top of each other with displays of rainbows, hearts, flowers, and of course...glitter.

"Yeah!"

They all breathed heavily as that performance was quite a mouthful. However, not everyone thought it was terrific...

Case in point, one troll was slowly clapping with an disapproving expression on his face. It was Smg3, the grumpiest troll in all of the village. He had quite the faded tone of skin and hair, a prickly beard, and of course, the sourest expression out of all the trolls. Unlike the others, the thought of singing and dancing made him disgusted and he hated all the trolls...especially the prince.

"Unbelievable guys. Really, really great. Good job. I COULD HEAR YOU FROM A MILE AWAY!"

"Good. I was worried we weren't projecting enough."

"Four. If I can hear you...so can the bergens."

The others all rolled their eyes and groaned in annoyance. Three was always complaining about the bergens and how they were going to come back to eat them all. It really made you wonder why he was the only one who was so concerned about this.

"Oh boy."

"Here we go again...🙄"

"Oh Three..."

"You always ruin everything."

"Warning us about the bergens."

Three looked confused. He didn't do it that much. Did he? Turns out he had ruined a birthday party, wedding, and even a funeral with that stupid bergen talk of his.

"Oh come on. We haven't seen a bergen in 20 years. They're not going to find us."

"No. They aren't going to find ME! Because I'll be in my highly camouflaged, heavily fortified, bergen-proof survival lair."

"You mean you aren't coming to the party tonight?"

The others tried to hype up and encourage him to come.

"But it's going to be the biggest..."

"LOUDEST..."

"The craziest party ever!"

Three couldn't believe these idiots. He never showed up to these things for the fear of what risks he was taking if he did.

"Big? Loud!? Crazy!? YOU'RE JUST GOING TO LEAD THE BERGENS RIGHT TO US!"

Mario was getting sick of this guy's attitude as he leaned over to Four and whispered "Are you sure you want to invite this party pooper to poop all over your party?" Four responded with a much more positive tone, despite these two being total opposites of each other.

"Yes! I think everyone deserves to be happy!"

"I don't do happy."

"Three, I know there is happiness inside you. You just need our help to find it."

He pulled out a creative looking invitation that had a little Three, holding a heart that said "Three you're invited!" The mini version of him sang "Celebrate freedom from the bergens!" Three didn't look impressed. That annoyed expression stayed stuck on his face, even when the card spit out glitter all over his face. Four on the other hand, looked at him with a willing face in hopes he would say yes.

"What do you say?"

Three's expression relaxed as he took the card, but then he threw it on the ground and stomped on it as hard as he could.

"Oh my god." Boopkins replied in shock. Nobody expected that, even though Three always acted like a jerk to them. He wiped the glitter off his face while making it perfectly clear to them (for the millionth time) that he would never attend one of these stupid parties.

"I wouldn't be caught dead at your party, but you will be. Caught and dead."

Suddenly, another troll came down from the sky with a more relaxed tone.

"Whoa whoa. Let's calm down here Three."

Tag6 hopped off a firefly that was carrying her, and embraced the sweet bug. "Thank you for my safe passage here. Goodbye." She waved farewell as the firefly flew off. Now let's clear things up shall we. She turned back to Three and said "Okay, first of all, thanks for sharing your unique perspective of things...again."

Mario and Meggy snickered a little as they exchanged glances with each other.

"But just for now, why don't you try a little positivity okay?"

Three sneered at the sweet, polite troll. He always had a grievance with her as she always seemed way too friendly with the other trolls. Not only that, but Four kind of seemed to like her and that only deepened There's hatred. He always tried to tell himself "Why should I care. It's not like I'm jealous or anything." Despite that, something bugged him about seeing those two get closer together.

"Okay fine. I'm positive that you all are going to get eaten."

A glint sound of chimes began to ring as it turned out that their hug time bracelets were going off. "Hug time!" They all squeezed together to include everyone, including Three. He tried to squirm his way out when Luigi wrapped his arms around him. That was the last straw. He pushed out and said to Four "Someday, when the bergens find us and the survival of every troll is in your hands, I sure hope the answer is singing, dancing, and hugging because that's all you know how to do!"

Mario tried to stand up for his friend as he shot back "That's not true! Smg4 can also make memes!"

Three looked angrily into Four's eyes and said one last thing that really hurt his feelings.

"I can't believe you're going to be king one day."

He then walked off with a bunch of sticks that he had collected for his evil villain lair of protection. Four sighed glumly as Tag6 went over to comfort him.

"Don't listen to him. He's just mean and toxic. Some of us just don't want to be happy."

"...I guess."

"You guessed right. Boop."

Tag6 booped his nose as Four smiled and they all went off to get ready for the party. Little did they know, a fearsome foe would soon make his arrival.

Chapter 2: An Unwanted Visitor

#comedy #adventure #action #romance #smg4 #smg3 #smg34 #smg4 au #smg34 fanfiction #trolls #trolls au #trolls movie #trolls bergens #smg4 trolls #trolls branch #trolls poppy

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indianmovielinks · 1 month

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encorrre trailer for RRR

watch the full movie free and legal on einthusan!

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wedarkacademia · 1 year

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“I believe that when you love someone and that person loves you in return you’re uniquely vulnerable. They have the power to hurt you that’s like nothing else.” — Elijah Mikaelson, The Originals

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obscureanimeoftheday · 7 months

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Obscure Anime of The Day:

Eureka Seven

Aired: 2005-2006

Genres: Action, Adventure, Comedy, Drama, Fantasy, Mecha, Military, Psychological, Romance, SciFi, Shounen, Superpower

#Eureka seven #Koukyoushi Hen Eureka Seven #交響詩篇エウレカセブン #Action #Adventure #Comedy #Drama #Fantasy #Mecha #Military #Psychological #Romance #SciFi #Shounen #Superpower #anime #obscure anime of the day #Eureka Seven Psalms of Planets #Eureka 7

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ronearoundblindly · 1 year

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Threadbare (4)

Steve Rogers x Fashion Designer!Reader

Part Four: Necking Region (see previous or series)

Summary: Chaos erupts at your Spring Show, but Steve is right there...at your feet.

Warnings for canon-level violence, Tony Stark's sass (obvi), kithes, and one hella-badass AND fluffy Reader! WC 4259

For you, handsome.

Handsome? Steve can work with that.

Even in the fresh dark, he schools his face in hopes to hide the nerves fluttering beneath his skin. Steve is determined to talk to you after the show, and he won’t get waylaid like in the fall. He’ll order three of everything that crosses the stage just to spend time with you again.

Quality time.

That he pays for.

Shoot, is he making it weird? Is that better than lying?

The music cue is deafening, and Steve jumps almost imperceptibly in his seat.

Yikes, he’s a nervous wreck. He adjust the collar of his shirt, clearing his throat in the split second while the noise is drowned out and the place is still dark, but when the lights come back up, Steve Rogers’ heart stops.

It’s like…it’s like he’s looking into the past through one of Wanda’s magic visions.

His heart swells even as his chest tightens. There’s a sharp tingle behind his sinuses but he can’t look away. He blinks away the discomfort.

Each silhouette triggers a long lost memory because they’re him. You would have seen him.

He remembers buying children’s clothes sometimes. For a long time, his ma resewed every seam in every pair of slacks. After she died, he just rolled up the hem and tightened his belt.

Of course, your models look nothing like that. They look striking and regal. They are meant to be seen. He can tell by their faces they want to be seen in your clothes, and Steve’s proud to even know you.

He grew up stuffing newspaper in his shoes. Now, your name and men who look like him—like he used to—will be in the newspaper. You’ll be on the cover for this.

Steve compulsively sweeps his hand over his hair and his eyes fall to his lap, concealing a dopey smile. He thinks this is the single most fantastic surprise of his life…

Then he sees the tenth model.

A slight, blond man in a crisp, collarless white shirt, navy jacket, and red pants struts down the platform, and the audience goes nuts. He’s certain a monitor would register his heart completely stopping for the entire walk, but Steve can only feel right now. He can’t think. His unfocused eyes wonder to the shadow where you were before, but he can’t even see.

The group does a whole second, swift run-through, but he’s not there anymore.

You emerge in this red, white, and blue masterpiece of a gown, perfectly complimenting the coloring of the last model, and Steve’s mind, body, and soul are on fire.

He watches you cup the face of your model and beam a wide smile, leaning down to him. You kiss that slight man’s cheek, and Steve has an out-of-body—or original-body—experience that shudders his large frame.

His mind runs away, picturing working and relaxing beside you for all things, sketching, reading, resting, but he’s little again and your face is exactly the same. You don’t look at him any differently. He’s just Steve, either way, both ways, any way, and always.

It’s only when the person next to him bumps Steve that he, too, pops off his seat for your standing ovation. He gets lost in the joy written all over your face, clapping his hands so hard his palms sting, but he will cheer you on until he’s worn them to the bone just to—

Your face falls as the underlying noise changes in the venue.

He knows that sound.

Steve understood why flashbulb photography triggered veterans like gunfire, but nowadays there’s no mistaking the difference. Those are bullets, and someone is pointing guns directly into your event space.

The room is already in complete chaos when Steve turns toward the intrusion. Guests scatter everywhere in every direction, some so disoriented they run at the shots.

Steve whips out his phone and yells over the din for F.R.I.D.A.Y to call emergency services, police and medical, to his location, then starts what should be an easy, ten-foot journey, but you’re practically across an ocean.

The music hasn’t stopped. People closest to the neck of the stage are still clapping, unsuspecting of the crowd knocking them down in search of two stage doors locked from the other side.

Something is off though because nothing Steve sees is impacted until he swivels back, shoved off kilter by two terrified women who tilt his gaze higher.

The panels of sheer fabric he thought were moody decor are fielding bullets like baseballs in a practice net. He’s never witnessed anything quite like it, but at least it means Steve has time to get to you. He has to move you off the stage so you aren’t so easy of a target.

Smacked around like a pinball in high speed machine, Steve hastily rushes to the rose-rimmed platform, barely missing your ankle in his reach and shouting for your attention.

He thinks you’ve heard when you spin, but it’s too late. Someone has breeched the protective panels, and any temporary structures throughout the venue start exploding from a hailstorm of semi-automatic fire.

Steve checks that the stage doors have been unlocked. Guests are getting out, but the bottleneck is slow. Your models are stuck on the stage, their path blocked by fallen scaffolding and sparking lights. You need to get the hell down, so he raises a hand to call for you again.

And then…

And then there’s an enormous arch of navy and red, centered by the glowing star on your chest.

And then a bullet streaks across the silvery mesh on your stomach.

A gunman has come around your shield, and Steve’s seeing red—well, more red—as he scans to see you unharmed.

Screw that guy.

Steve vaults over the stage, decks the gunman square in the jaw, and waits till the limp body rests motionless against a fallen chair.

He looks up to see you, not smiling but not upset. You’re waving for the trapped models to come closer to the barrier before meeting Steve’s eyes.

“Go get ‘em.“ You pull at the cuff of your filigreed sleeve, ticking your head to signal Steve should, too. “You’re dressed for it.”

He studies the buttons on his jacket, those unique ones at his wrists that hold concentric circles like his shield…or so he thought. Now he realizes, they aren’t just buttons; they are activation buttons.

He grabs his forearms to press both, feeling a gentle tingle spread.

His eyes snap back up to yours.

“Oh.”

You wink at him before all automated function of his body takes over, and Steve runs headlong for the goons with guns, wearing naught but a shockingly-useful suit separate and the ghost of his same goofy smile.

You think he’s handsome.

Steve tucks and rolls behind one fabric screen, clocking the location of one gunman by the muzzle flare through the fabric. He rushes and drops one—two—three more until he sees a small grouping split off from a masked man’s side.

It’s Richard Fisk in a shock-white suit and with completely obscured face, but it’s absolutely ‘The Rose’ with a perfect blood-red bloom stuffed in his lapel.

The goons will stop if the boss goes down, Steve knows. He’s seen it a hundred times before, so he grabs the sidearm of the man he just leveled and fires at Fisk’s leg.

The bullet lands exactly where intended but hits like no more than a crowd-suppressant beanbag.

“Is that the best you can do, Captain?”

Great. You made Fisk a bulletproof suit, too.

Steve jumps behind the nearest screen, losing ground but crouching beside one of the other unconscious gunmen. A can of tear gas is strapped to the guy’s chest, and Steve just acts.

Fisk howls like a banshee, ripping the bizarre purple and black striped mask off his face to gasp for air and cough.

The Rose laughs, cocky and taunting. “You brought morals to a gunfight. You don’t even have your frisbee.”

Fisk sprays bullets randomly in the direction from which he saw the canister fly, and Steve sprints, sliding on his knees all the way to Fisk’s feet, arms up and shoved together as if he’s wearing his Wakandan guards. He feels some rounds bounce off his chest, hardly slowing him down, but the sound of bullets as they ricochet off his sleeves is intense. No doubt, Fisk would have landed multiple kill shots.

Armed police file in the entrance and scream for the goons to put their weapons down and their hands up.

Another coughing fit pauses Fisk’s assault. Steve chances opening his arms and swings immediately for the sneering, twisted face above him.

The man spins with the concussive force. Just before Fisk collapses in a makeshift bed of hot ammo shells and cold rose petals, Steve stands and adjusts his jacket.

“No—“ his hand smoothes over pristine and unfrayed midnight “—but I brought style.”

Iron Man swoops in to land on the other side of Richard Fisk’s body.

“Damn it, I didn’t get that on video. Can we reset and you say that line again?”

“Tony,” Steve warns.

“What?! It was so good, buddy. No seriously, I’m proud of that—“ Steve turns to check on you, watching the fabric of your skirt flutter back down to drape across the runway “—dare I say it’s my influence. I want proof you—“

“Tony,” Steve shouts again. Finally, the music is turned off from the media console.

“All clear,” Tony yells with his hands cupping his mouth. “Where’s your ‘girlfriend?’” He relaxes his arms after air-quoting and gives Steve a once-over. “Don’t think I don’t know you cut me in line for that.”

Steve fiddles with his cuffs, attempting to swallow a blush and failing. He presses the buttons again. The tingling stops.

Tony frowns, pointing an accusatory finger as he watches Steve shrug. “That’s favoritism, and I thought you were better than that.” He turns deeper into the venue, screaming, “Sheers! You good?”

There’s no audible answer, so the pair make their way past the decimated decor.

Titanium boots crunch against the floor. “Looks more like my first dates than yours.”

“For the love of god, Tony, please…” but Steve is suddenly engrossed, rounding one last screen to see your models and several guests nervously huddled at your legs, your arms reaching out to comfort each and every one.

So strong. So soft. That’s you. That’s what you create.

“Hey,” you say with a huge breath and a soft sweet smile as Steve approaches.

He makes his way straight to your feet and holds out his hands. “Hey.”

“Hey?” Tony blurts, watching Steve lift you down by the waist like a princess. “Hey?? Yeah, sure. Cool. I love being upstaged. It’s not like I didn’t offer to fund this shit a year ago—“

“Language,” you and Steve say simultaneously.

“—or anything. No big deal.” Tony scoffs. “When else would I be perfectly within my rights to swear? We have to talk about this is my point.” He waves his gauntlet in the general area of you and clucks his tongue.

“Any other day, Stark.”

Tony, however, doesn’t need others to be as amused as he is. “Admit it. I’m an inspiration.”

“To find alternatives? To find feasible, reproducible options?” You break away from Steve’s grasp to step closer to Tony. “Yes, I did that. We can’t all be covered in nanotech.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s cost prohibitive,” you rage.

Steve stands ready to catch you, seeing the way your energy wilts after each sentence and that you can’t keep your hand up without them shaking.

Tony snorts. “What? Speak english.”

“Speak average,” you whip back, but before a staring contest can ensue, Abby pounces to swing you into a hug.

“I’m so glad you’re okay!”

You’re distracted by your assistant while Steve scopes out the venue, noting the triage area and cops beginning to take statements from unharmed guests.

Knowing Steve will ask, Tony interjects. “No major injuries. Mostly just bruises and sprains from people trampling each other.”

That’s incredible considering the pools of spent shells all on one particular side of those tall panels. They must be made of the same material—

“Stop fondling, Tony.” Steve smacks his friend’s hands off your skirts.

“I’ll have you know I’m fondling in the interest of science,” his friend hisses comically. He does drop the fabric though. “Fine. Then I’ll just be taking your jacket as payment.”

“Payment for what?”

“Letting you escort the lady home and bypassing the lovely, lengthy interviews the boys in blue are gonna want.“

It takes Steve all of three seconds to consider.

“Deal,” he agrees, imagining that with a crowd this size, you’d be busy until the wee hours of the morning, wringing your hands as you repeat yourself a dozen times, wrapped in a wool blanket, exhausted. He shrugs off the blazer quickly before any of the other officers come to speak with you and tucks one arm around yours to tell you the plan.

Abby encourages the escape.

Steve’s thrilled he did not walk to the event. He took a car in order to line up in the red carpet procession—as awful as he finds the practice—and luckily, the driver is still ready and able to maneuver the vehicle past a sea of police cruisers.

Seeing as most of your bodice and sleeves are sheer, you curl inward for warmth instead of lean against the cool leather of the backseat. Normally, Steve would offer his jacket, but in lieu of any decent layers to peel off for you, he drapes his arm over your shoulders. The flashing red and blue lights fade in the distance as you sink comfortably against his chest.

“So…” Steve starts, quiet and casual, “Tony wasn’t supposed to know you’d already sold Richard Fisk a bulletproof suit, huh?”

He can see your eyes are still open, staring out the window, but you don’t respond right away.

“Originally, I’d basically made a very thin kevlar, and that…wasn’t the end goal, so I made a few suits for a steep price to try for, well, what you saw tonight. Stark isn’t exactly subtle.” You shift an accusatory glance up to Steve momentarily. “Three days after Dominica delivered Fisk’s first suit, none other than the Tony Stark comes into my store asking questions. He tried to get me to develop under Stark Industries, wanted my work to be exclusive—and I’m sure completely under his own brand—so I said no. This was all spoken in hypotheticals, mind you. ‘Hypothetically,’ if I worked for him, the mob couldn’t get me, and ‘hypothetically,’ he could help speed my research along. He tried a few different times, too. I thought he was parading you in as bait at first.”

“You thought I was…what?”

“I thought Stark brought in the cute guy who looks perfect in my designs as some sort of dangling carrot to work for him.”

Steve’s floored.

“When did you know I wasn’t a plant?”

“Oh, one second after seeing your face. Nobody with an agenda is that good at looking clueless.”

He’d be offended if it weren’t entirely true. Steve had absolutely zero idea what to do or say being fitted and consulted on for civilian clothes, and he thought he was supposed to be meeting a man that whole time. However, he would not put it past Tony to have intended he be bait with no warning, and in fact, this would count as the greatest ‘long game’ Stark has ever played. Steve wouldn’t have needed more incentive to get close to you.

“Yeah, I invented the stuff,” you continue with a shrug and a yawn, “but he doesn’t own me and I like designing all sorts of things. I think that’s…”

Your voice trails off before Steve prods. “What?”

“I think that’s why he goaded me about my typical line. I told him I wouldn’t be pigeonholed into dressing superheroes, so I would look like a hypocrite if I still only made clothes for—“ you sit up and fake a deep, arrogant voice “—shiny, blond beefcakes.”

Steve’s hand slaps his forehead. Tony absolutely used those exact words.

“So I engineered the stuff alone and overhauled my entire collection in the last two weeks. That’s what Stark does, right? Control you without really controlling you.”

“It’s called being manipulative, and he and I have had several conversations about it,” Steve grumbles.

You’ve hit a second wind of energy but fiddle with your lap before asking, “what did you think of the show?”

Steve sits up straighter and clears his throat.

“Ya know,” you quickly interject, “prior to it becoming the Battle of Skylight Square.”

Just as Steve opens his mouth the car stops. The driver announces you’ve arrived at the atelier and thus your upstairs apartment.

Steve steps out and realizes the police car usually stationed at the curb is no longer there, likely called away to the scene earlier. He dismisses his driver for the evening and makes the executive decision to stay as your guard the rest of the night.

You shuffle to the front door, exclaiming that the real piece de resistance of your gown is your pockets from which you brandish your keys. Steve’s grateful you’re animated (if a little loopy) and distracted while his mind scurries to form words.

He can’t express what he saw and felt when he looked on that stage, so he hums in agreement with your rant on pockets and follows behind you, hands on your hips as you struggle to walk up the staircase.

You pause on the first step and peek at him over your shoulder.

“So…’Button,’ huh?”

He blushes furiously and focuses on your balance when you won’t. The dress train is long enough to require he lift it so he can see the stairs beneath his own feet. You two climb slowly.

“Well,” Steve blusters, repositioning the layers so one of his hands on your hip sits under your own hand that lifts the front bustle, “‘Handsome,’ right?”

One step up. You snort. “You say that like it’s odd that I’m attracted to you, but I think I thoroughly proved that tonight, mister.”

Another step up, and you’re about three-quarters of the way there.

Steve can’t hold back anymore though, not even till the top of one flight.

He uses his grip to spin you around and nudges his foot under your skirts, rising to the stair just below you. You’ve dropped all else and grabbed onto him for balance, cupping his cheeks like he saw you do earlier tonight. You have to lean down to him as his whole being screams ‘let me kiss you.’

Steve has a distinctly in-body experience, all his imaginings of touching a woman so sweetly and in exactly the way he would have a century ago come to fruition right there.

With a hard-working girl after a fight with a bully, just as it should be.

He loses track of his hands amongst the tangled yards of your dress, but your lips are soft and perfect. He ascends a few inches more by way of his tip toes and clings to the railing for balance. Steve has the fleeting thought that he might inadvertently be yanking you toward him with a palm over your ass—not on it because he can barely tell there is even a body part there—so he moves his hand up for assurances. Up is safer. Up is more gentlemanly. He teeters both on his toes and on the cusp of gentlemanly given how lost Steve is in devouring you.

Stunning and innovative as they are, your skirts are prohibitively fluffy, and Steve feels more and more of your weight resting on him, those last dregs of adrenaline draining away. He pulls back, ghosting a peck on your still eagerly pursed lips.

“Let’s get you comfy, Button,” he husks, rolling his thumb back and forth between what he now realizes are your shoulder blades.

You nod, your forehead against his, and although he’d normally think it forward, his desire to take care of you wins out, deliberately finding your thigh to coax your legs around him.

He carries you the rest of the way, nearly tripping but laughing the whole journey. “Sure it saved some people,” he jokes, “but then ‘bout took me down, so…”

He deposits you by your closet and goes to make you a very sweet herbal tea while you change. He’s surprised when you emerge dressed down with sweats for him in hand.

“Menswear designer,” you remind him simply.

Even though it was never technically real until this moment, Steve falls back into the routine of kissing your temple so easily as he passes off the mug and heads to the tiny bathroom.

When he returns though, you have a familiar thousand-mile stare.

He tries to change the subject, to get you talking about something other than today, tonight, and tomorrow. He draws a blank until the shuffle of paper sounds beneath his hand. It just so happens that on your dining table—or should he say, your work desk?—is a sketch for his Gala outfit.

“Would you come with me?”

You hum softly in question.

“I mean, as my date. Will you go on a date with me? To this Hellfire thing?”

The distance in your eyes shrinks until it’s just him and you. A smile blooms across your strained face.

“Yes. I’d like that,” you say softly before taking a huge breath that seems to physically toss weight off your hunched form. “Whatever shall I wear though…”

“Not to give you extra work,” Steve chuckles back, “but I know this great designer.”

You laugh into your tea, both hands around the ceramic, holding on for dear life.

“Should I open a window? You probably could use some more fresh air,” he offers.

“Oh, they’re painted shut, possibly since before I was born, but we could go to the roof?”

He’s not sure if that’s a commentary on you finding him lurking up there last week, but it’s a fine idea nonetheless. “Chairs?”

You look around and counter. “Pillows?”

Steve takes another moment to think while you gather, and he ends up holding several cushions and your tea. As you both continue up the much tinier staircase to the access door, something occurs to him.

“Wait, did you give me a prototype that was untested?”

You laugh nervously. “Um—“ you use your butt to open the door “—well, see, if anyone’s gonna be fine should a bulletproof and bullet repellant material fail, it’ll be a super soldier, right?”

“So I was your guinea pig?!”

“I’m sorry,” you burst sarcastically. “You got a free, custom jacket—which you chose to wear to my show, might I add—and what would you have had ready without my ‘untested prototype?’”

Steve makes doe eyes in the dark, ambient light pollution. “I just thought you cared about my safety there for a minute…”

“I cared for everyone’s safety,” you chirp in retaliation for his heavy guilting. “I made those panels just in case, but I was never, ever going to cancel my whole show on the assumption Fisk would pull a stunt like that. Forgive me for not living my life in fear of what that lunatic, second-rate kingpin might do!”

He shrugs at that, dropping his pillows in a makeshift seat pattern right beside yours. “Fair point.”

There’s a comfortable silence while you sip your cooling tea.

“Should have made myself one,” Steve laments in a soft breath.

“Sweet, chivalrous beefcake,” you whisper, shaking your head.

“Tony really said that, didn’t he?”

“I think he wanted me to know he is my competition for your affection.”

“You aren’t…” Steve stops himself. He was going to say you and Tony are not competitors at all, but that isn’t true on multiple levels. He swivels to scoop up your legs and settle them over his lap, just like he used to on the couch at the Tower, and you squeak, clutching your sloshing tea. One of his hands circles your hip to rest at the top of one leg. The other lands at the strip of bare skin where your sweats don’t touch the ankle of your slip-on shoes. His pinky flicks over the fleece lining, rounding out his mental measurements of your body. For now.

“There is no competition,” his concludes in a low, deep tone. “You win.”

You stare up at him with glassy eyes now, in awe of something he can’t see but hopes to earn. This time it’s your expression that pleads for him, and he leans in for another lingering, thorough kiss.

Steve licks the sweet taste off his lips. “Should’ve made another tea,” he repeats.

Your eyes open again slowly, sleepily, reminding him of that daydream of waking up next to you and breakfast in bed.

He sneaks another peck before you can forms words.

“Is this a bad time to tell you…that I forgot my keys and the door shut all the way?”

Steve looks over incredulously at that stupid exit and sighs, scratching his jaw.

“It’s, uh, about as bad as—“ he debates admitting what he’s about to “—well, I can, I mean I could get us back in, but…” He glances over the side of the building. “How do you feel about sleeping with a window open, or rather, no window?”

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp @shelbygeek @rogersideup @eyebagsanonymous @trudy-shams @saranghaey @darsynia @femefetalelevelingup

[Last Part]

A/N: probably not as well edited as it should be, but meh, I'm too excited to release this out into the wild! Comments, keysmashes, and asks always welcome. Thank you for reading!

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x female reader #fashion designer!reader #threadbare #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you #romance #steve rogers angst #action/adventure #captain america angst

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timothee-chalamets-girlfriend · 1 month

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Paul Atreides X Reader (Dune)

Part 5: The Meeting

The sand beneath Paul and Jessica sinks and shivers, indicating the worm getting closer. "Run." Paul says, taking off with his mother. It was almost impossible to run in the sand even before the worm disrupted it, so the two didn't get very far before tripping and being knocked over. They seemed to be trapped in the sinking sand. Paul, using what little energy he had left, manages to crawl out. However, his mother didn't have that strength. "Shit!" Paul yells, seeing that his mother was still in the sinking sand hole. He tries to think of something, anything to do in order to help her. He desperately looks around, hoping he'd find a rope, but he doesn't. There was only one option. Paul jogs back into the hole, immediately being knocked over. He grabs his mother and drags her through the sand, basically swimming in it. Once he reached the edge of the hole, he gives his mother one final push to lift her into the stable sand. "Go!"

He says through gritted teeth as he tries to lift himself out, but he had no strength left.

Sand gets everywhere as it begins to cover Paul's face, his body falling deeper into the pit. He can feel something beneath him; the sand worm was starting to open its mouth. Paul takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, preparing for what's about to happen. The sand below him collapses and he starts to slide down, hearing a yell before he suddenly stops. He can feel himself dangling above the air from the large worm before being pulled onto the stable sand. Opening his eyes, he sees that someone was holding him by his arm. His mother was right next to this person, helping them pull him out. A thumping sound can be heard in the distance, drawing the sand worm away from them and leaving them laying in the sand, breathing heavily and trying to comprehend what had just happened. Paul wipes some sand from his face and looks to the person that had saved him. It was.. a girl. She had bright blue eyes, and- wait a minute, he knew this girl. It was the same girl from his vision.

Paul fumbles around a bit but eventually finds his balance and gets back on his feet. His hands were shaking from adrenaline, his heart pounding and he was still panting from the incident. "Are you okay?" His mother asks, wiping a few grimes of sand from his cheek. He looks to her with soft eyes, nodding. "Who.." he starts to ask, still catching his breath as he motions to the girl. "Oh, I'm Y/N." The girl says, "saw you two struggling with Shai-Hulud and thought you needed some help. It's not everyday we see other people that aren't one of us out in the deep desert. I'm interested. What brings you here?" She asks. "Our ship crashed, we've been trying to find the Fr-" Jessica begins, but Paul was insistent on finishing. "The Fremen," he says. "You're Fremen, aren't you?" He questions Y/N, but he knew the answer. Y/N nods, grinning. "I'd say we found you instead of you finding us, but that doesn't matter. Why did you want to find us? Usually when people try to find us, it's so they can kill us." She tells them, giving Paul a bit of a side eye. "You were our best bet at survival, as my father was killed. We have the same enemies: the Harkonnens. We're willing to help you, if you'd be so kind and help us." Paul said. "There's a few things we'd have to go over before that can happen, but tell you what. I'll bring you back to our camp and ask Stilgar his opinion, and we will go from there. Come on." Says Y/N, and she leads Paul and Jessica to the other Fremen.

"By the way, your sand walking was terrible." Y/N says as they approach the Fremen's camp. "Not only that, but the majority of the time you weren't even in worm territory." She chuckles. "How long were you watching us..?" Jessica asks. Y/N simply grins, shrugging. "Could you teach us how to sand walk properly?" Asks Paul, not being able to take his eyes off of this girl. He wanted to know everything about her and the Fremen. "Depends," she says, calling over her leader. "Stilgar! We have some guests!" Stilgar was in the midst of a conversation with his lead warrior, Jamarcus, when Y/N calls him over. "Y/N, what did I tell you about bringing in foreigners?" Stilgar complains. "These two say they're willing to help us get rid of the Harkonnens, they want to learn our ways." Y/N said, and Stilgar immediately shook his head. "You're almost worse than your sister." He sighs. "Chani?" Y/N laughs, "at least I brought in someone who actually has a chance." She motions to Paul, "he's young." She then looks to Jessica, "oh, no offense.." she mumbles. "None taken," Jessica sighs, "what exactly does he have to do?"

"In order to become Fremen, you must trade a life for a life. In other words, defeat one of our warriors in battle." Stilgar tells both Paul and Jessica. "That could be a possibility for the young man here, however, I fear the woman is too old to learn our ways." He said. "My mother could be of a useful asset. She's pregnant." Paul says, and his mother quickly goes wide eyed, turning all her attention to him. "How..?" She fumbles for words. "Just a feeling I've had for awhile," Paul admits, "a baby girl?" He felt confident that the dreams he's had on having a baby sister were true. "Yes.." Jessica whispers, still shocked. She had barely known herself that she was pregnant, yet alone that it was a girl. She didn't know whether to be frightened or to admire her son's ability to find that out on his own. Stilgar huffs, thinking. "Let's see if the boy can win a fight before we decide on anything." He decided on that option, calling Jamarcus over to the group of the two Fremen and two foreigners.

"What is he to do? Kill this man?" Asks Jessica, looking at the heavily built man called Jamarcus. "Yes, kill him or he kills you." Stilgar says, patting Paul's shoulder. "Take this blade," he hands Paul a newly forged crysknife. "You will die in honor with this blade in your hand." He grins. "Go on now." Jamarcus whips out his own blade from its sheath and stands in a ready position. Paul looks down at the blade in his hand, gulps, then turns to where his mother and Y/N were standing. His mother looked worried, and Y/N, well.. she looked like she believed in him. So he believed in himself as well. He had never killed a man, but he had been trained to. Gurney had taught him well, and Paul was confident those trainings would pay off now. However, part of him was still scared. He knew how good Fremen warriors were, and Jamarcus no doubt fit the definition of a good Fedaykin warrior, and he seemed confident as well. In fact, he saw no fear in Jamarcus's face.

The Fremen gather around in a circle, Paul and Jamarcus standing in the middle with their blades at the ready. Paul takes a deep breath just before Jamarcus lunges at him. Paul swiftly dodges the blow, lifting his own blade and directing it toward Jamarcus's chest, in which it is easily blocked. Their blades interlock, along with their eyes. Paul grunts, keeping the other blade from slipping before he takes a few steps backwards. Jamarcus lunges again, moving quickly and this time landing a blow of his fist into Paul's face. Paul stumbles, but remains standing. He shakes off the pain and thrusts his body forward, putting all of his weight into the opposing man, knocking him over. Jamarcus hoists his blade up, pointing it at Paul's throat. Paul is quick to grip onto Jamarcus's wrist, using both his hands to keep the knife from puncturing his throat. His hands shake as he holds the weapon in place; Jamarcus was strong but he wasn't giving up so easily.

Paul was so focused on his opponents right hand, he had forgotten about the left. Jamarcus propels his left fist into Paul's face again, causing Paul to fall backward and take his hands off of his right wrist, freeing the blade. Paul gets an unusual metallic taste in his mouth, and can feel the red substance flowing down from his nose. But he wastes no more time, rapidly regaining his balance before making another attack. Jamarcus had been ready, though, ducking beneath the soaring blade and simply lifting his leg to deliver a powerful kick to Paul's chest. Paul grunts at the impact and, again, is forced backwards and loses his footing, hitting the ground with a deep thump that everyone around could feel below them. Paul gasps for air as the wind had been knocked out of him, staying down on the ground and feeling too weak to get back up. Jamarcus stands over him, knife raised and aimed at his neck. The audience gasps. Paul's eyes glance at the blade above him, then travel to his mother, who wasn't even watching anymore, then to Y/N, whom was completely locked in on him, her blue eyes meeting his darker eyes for a quick moment.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Paul got a sudden burst of energy, and a determination to live. He glances at Y/N one more time, a tiny smile forming on his bloody lips, one so small he didn't even realize he had done it. He did notice the feeling, though. He wanted to live. No, he had to live. There were things he needed to know still, so much to learn. But most of all, in this moment, he just wanted to talk to Y/N again. Paul, with no more hesitation, turns all of his attention and his energy back into the current duel. Just as Jamarcus was about to make the final blow, Paul uplifts his leg, striking the hand the knife of his opponent was in, knocking it from his grasp. He sits up, snatches the other weapon from the sand, and plunges both blades into Jamarcus's chest, twisting them until they went in as deep as they could possibly go. Blood flows from the man's mouth and wounds as his body begins to shut down. It was a quick death for the Fremen warrior, as Paul had hit his major organs as he had been trained to do. The Boy from the Outer World heaves the crysknives out from the limp body, it falling into the sand. The blades were stained red with blood, and as Paul slowly stands, he drops both of the weapons and lets them fall in the sand besides the Fremen body.

He stands still in the middle of the circle, breathing heavily and wiping his bloody nose. He hears a small round of applause, soon finding out that Y/N was the one clapping for him. Was she proud? He had just killed one of her own. Paul finds himself being surrounded by a booming round of applause from the entire group of Fremen. Was he one of them now? Why did everyone, especially Stilgar, look so shocked? Was Y/N the only one that had believed in him? He wanted to know the answer to those questions, and he hoped since he had prevailed in battle, that he would soon find out.

#dune #dune 2 #dune 2024 #dune movie #dune part 2 #dune part two #paul atreides #paul atreides x reader #timothee #timothee chalamet #science fiction #action #adventure #romance #drama

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serenefreakgeekao3 · 1 year

Text

Ever in our favour... Masterlist

PEETA MELLARK X GN!READER

You wake up with a migraine, surrounded by forests and kids that are more than willing to kill you. What have you fallen into the middle of? And why can't you remember getting here?

Arena fanfiction, cannon-typical violence, descriptions of blood injuries and death, descriptions of a panic attack, temporary memory loss, mentions of familial abuse, depictions of mutated creatures, established relationship, romance, kissing, fluff and angst, minor character deaths, action/adventure

Table of Contents:

Archive of Our Own

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT (FINALE)

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hanayori89 · 13 days

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Darkness Incoming

*Kakariko Village*

Link awoke to the sound of dishes clattering in the distance. He groaned as he swung his feet off the bed. That's when he realized he was at Renado's.

And that he had spent the night with Y/N.

Link turned to see the bed completely empty. Not even her imprint was nestled into the empty space beside him.

Goddesses, she needs to go to work!

Link stood; his gait was slightly woozy as he made his way to his boots. He was still drunk from the deep spell of sleep. He reckoned his deep slumber was thanks to being snuggled in with Y/N.

Which was by no fault of his own. The true culprit was that horrid nightmare making its nocturnal reappearance. Only this time, when he reached his arms out to dive and catch the mirror, he felt a warm body in his embrace in its stead. Link felt almost as if he were on the precipice of another dimension. The dimension in which his physical body held Y/N, and she was safe. There was no Mirror of Twilight. No crying. No heartbreak. But then there was his mind, which couldn't seem to escape the dimension it was trapped in or the immeasurable warning of what was to come.

But one look at Y/N's face, shrouded in the tranquility of sleep, caused Link to push the warning away. As long as she was in his arms, no harm could come to her. When he awoke, he instantly took notice of her fingers tangled within his bangs. He made no attempt to move them. He was suddenly overtaken by a feeling of weariness. All the running he was doing when he was awake, he couldn't even escape in his slumber. He then fell back asleep, Y/N and he remaining enmeshed in one another.

As Link continued to straighten himself up, he mentally reached out to Goddess Hylia.

Hylia, please help me. I'm so worried about catching her, but I'm the one who has fallen and won't be able to get up. I don't know how this will play out. Above all else, please help me continue to walk a path of nobility. I know these dreams are so much more. But I do not wish to see them come to fruition. Please help me.

Please.

A single tap sounded on the other side of the door. Renado gently pushed it open, peeking inside. When he saw Link awake, he let himself in.

"Good morning, Link. Sleep well? Y/N is finishing a walk with Luda. I packed a light breakfast for you both."

The mention of Luda's name induced Link to come up with an idea. "Renado, thank you for your hospitality. I'm afraid I must ask a favor. I can make it worthwhile. At least for Luda." Link gave Renado a gentle gaze. He walked over to the saddlebag that held Y/N's dress.

"I wanted to take this to the tailor. I know they're not open at this time. If I give you some rupees for the mending as well as for your inconvenience, would you take it for me? I can return to pick it up. Or if you'd like to come to Ordon, I can secure you both lodging at my place. Luda could play with Beth and the others."

Renado took the dress from Link in a careful manner. As if sensing the importance of it. He regarded Link with inquisitive eyes. "This girl means a great deal to you. I can tell."

Link nodded. "I-" He stopped himself once again, changing the trajectory of the conversation. "She is very special. Thank you, Renado. Would 100 rupees suffice?"

Sensing Link's eagerness to change the discussion, Renado followed course."100 rupees is very generous. I will accept this amount, but more so as travel compensation. This will make her smile. Thank you, Link."

Link nodded awkwardly, hearing the deafening sound of Renado's unasked questions within their silence. Thankfully, an eruption of giggling and cackling encircled them both as Luda and Y/N strolled back into the house.

"Link," Renado warned in a low gargle. "I sense darkness approaching. I've felt it the past few days. In the urgency of the rain. In the aggression of the thunder. It speaks to me. I implore you to be careful. Watch the girl, too."

Before Link could inquire further, Luda skipped up to them. "Link, Y/N here is so fascinating. I had a great time with her! She was telling me all about where she is from!"

Link raised an eyebrow in Y/N's direction. She gave him a meek smile in return. The ride into Castle Town was sure to be an uncomfortable one. They did sleep with each other. Well, in each other's arms, that is.

"Where did she tell you she's from?" He asked cautiously.

"She said it's a faraway place past the Gerudo Mesa. She was telling me how they do circuses! She was telling me they have a girl play you." This made her burst into laughter.

"Why is that funny?"

"Well, you do have to admit, if you didn't have your muscles and had longer hair, you would look like a girl. Even Beth thinks so."

"Beth? Does everyone think of me as feminine?" Link glanced around for support but found there was none to be had.

Renado choked back a small cackle before correcting Luda. "I think what the girls mean is that you have an androgynous appearance."

"And draw generous? What's that?" Luda looked up at Renado, confused by his selective term. One that Link suspected he had most likely thought to himself since their meeting.

"It just means Link's look is mutual in a masculine and feminine regard."

"Well," Luda let out a devilish smirk. Anytime a child gifts a devilish smirk, what follows is never a good thing. "Y/N thinks you're very manly. She likes your eyes. And your arms. And that she wants to kiss-"

"Luda, that's enough. They have to be going." Renado curtly cut in.

They exchanged goodbyes with Renado and Luda, readying Epona for the trek to Castle Town in complete silence. Link's anxiety was at an all-time high thanks to Renado's warning. But he didn't share his sense of alarm with Y/N, not wanting to scare her. He just needed to see Zelda, and fast.

It was no longer just time closing in on them. The darkness around them was asphixating.

Link tried to push it away. But the harder he pushed, the clearer he could see that whatever this was ended with that dream.

Had Hylia heard his prayers?

*Castle Town*

Most of the voyage across Hyrule Field was spent with light spurts of chatter. Link wondered if Y/N, too, could sense the imminent foreboding that seemed to surround them. Renado had been right.

It was in the fog that looked like it had been smeared across the sky with a knife.

It was the precious dew drops that coated the grass. They no longer looked like miniature diamonds but whetted tacks.

It was in the gray tufts of clouds that seemed to have the sun pinned against the wall of the sky.

It was even hidden within the crisp chill of air that could lethally permeate through your skin and into your bones.

"Y/N, are you cold?" Link noticed her shiver for the third time against his back.

"No, I am fine." She lied.

"I brought a light blanket in the event of weather like this. You can wear it like a shawl. I can stop so that we can retrieve it from Epona's saddlebag."

"Link, really. I will be ok. I just want to get to work."

Her response came out short. He knew how detrimental a stormy sky could be to the mind, so he shrugged it off.

"We'll be there soon. I promise." Link couldn't fight against the next thing that left his mouth. "You can rest on me. If you wish."

She didn't reject his offer. Her head plopped onto the back of his shoulder blade as her arms reached around his waist, seeking security. He took his idle hand and rested it on top of one of hers.

Together, the melting of their flesh melted away time. They had arrived in Castle Town.

***

There was a line all the way down the street at Telma's. Link couldn't help but gasp in horror at the sight. "Y/N, did Telma mention anything special about today?"

She slowly shook her head, refusing to tear her eyes away from the overwhelming exhibit of customers.

"Goddesses, I hope Telma is ok." Y/N dashed towards the bar, and Link quickly followed behind her, curiosity pulling at every inch of him. He'd never seen Telma's bar look like this before. Once inside, they spotted Telma. Her normally polished plaits were frizzed by the frenzied atmosphere of the bar. Sweat beads cascaded down her neck into the well of her cleavage like a waterfall.

"Telma!" Link called out to her.

"Thank Hylia, you're here! I need all the help I can get!" She held three mugs in one hand and three in the other. She began running all the mugs beneath the draft server of mead. It spilled all down the mugs, splattering all over the floor.

As soon as Y/N called out to Telma, cheers erupted. "THERE SHE IS!"

Telma laid a tray on a table with all the mugs she just filled. Mead sloshed everywhere as she lifted them off the tray. "They're here for you. Word got out about my new employee and her face that could break a 1,000 yr curse."

Link stammered, his heart sinking as it dawned on him. "What..."

"They're here for Y/N. Isn't it great? I've made enough for this month's rent in one day! Of course, yesterday she was off, but I promised my patrons she'd be in today. She's got a following, Link. They adore her!"

The inundation of male flattery tore into Link's heart as he listened to the barrage of comments that came at Y/N from left and right.

"Wow, she is as pretty as Princess Zelda."

"Hylia, look at those e/c eyes! Is she single? Telma needs to hire people more often!"

"She's very sweet too! She has a bit of an accent. She waited on me the other day when it was her first day. I fell in love with her before I even had my four glasses of mead!"

Link could feel something unfamiliar controlling him. Sweat began to erupt all over his flesh as the catcalls and applause continued.

He had heard of jealousy, but he himself had never experienced it, for he was never given a reason to. Besides, wasn't jealousy a low-level emotion for someone who was a hero?

But under the low lights of the bar, Y/N's hand withered beneath the hardened hold he had on her. He was jealous.

As far as Link was concerned, Y/N was his. As she had been in that moment he set eyes on her in Ordon, that moment he caught her. The only time he caught her.

What if someone else catches her? What if she converts and chooses to leave me in the dust?

"Link, I must go put my apron on and help Telma."

Link knew this was a polite way of ushering him to let her hand go.

"No way. I can't leave you both alone to handle this. I will help."

"No! Weren't you going to see Zelda? I'm counting on you, Link!"

A giddy, intoxicated male puckered his lips at her and called from a table. "Hey, Y/N, how's about you bring us a few glasses of milk over here?

"I absolutely am not leaving you here alone!"

"Yes, you are."

A stiff, feminine voice whirled past them both. Link recognized it. He had grown up hearing that voice his whole life.

It was Ilia.

Just like that, the hand he refused to let go of was discarded in revulsion.

Edited: 3/19/23

An unlikely patron has made an appearance at Telma's bar. With Link's barrage of nightmares increasing in frequency and an unexpected visit from Ilia, what does it all mean?

Has Goddess Hylia heard Link's prayers? Or is it too late?

Check out my other completed OOT Zelda work- No Woman Beyond

#legend of zelda #link #loz #fanfiction #wattpad #link x reader #romance #the legend of zelda #fanfic #fanfic on tumblr #loz twilight princess #twilight princess #twili #legend of zelda twilight princess #loz midna #action adventure #l

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dailyflicks · 8 months

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Val Kilmer in The Saint (1997)

#the saint #val kilmer #filmedit #movieedit #filmgifs #moviegifs #fyeahmovies #throwbackblr #userfilm #userstream #cinematv #cinemapix #*#action #adventure #romance #1990s #by userlosthaven

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lindoesntwin · 15 days

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THE SICKLY TYRANT WITH AN INNOCENT FACADE

A kind-hearted CEO transmigrated into a villainess in ancient China who is later killed by a servant boy she picked up from the mountain and in order to live, she must also earn a set amount of merits designated by her system in five years or she will die, however, her kind-heartedness has made the servant boy quite possessive of her.

Other titles: The Sickly Loveable Tyrant Changed to Take the Green Tea Script; Yandere Tyrant Transforms to Take the Green Tea Script

#the sickly tyrant with an innocent facade #the sickly loveable tyrant changed to take the green tea script #yandere tyrant transforms to take the green tea script #manhua recommendation #manhua #yandere male #yandere boy #yandere #shoujo #action #adventure #drama #fantasy #comedy #historical #isekai #reincarnation #romance #time travel

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gachawolfiebloom · 1 day

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A Grumpy Troll and A Prince

Chapter 2: An Unwanted Visitor

Tags: Comedy, action, adventure, and romance

The trolls were certainly not kidding when they said it was going to be a loud and crazy party. Everywhere you went there would be a shower of lights and music. Bob was handling the vinyl record on his dj set while some glowing bugs were accompanying him. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING! GET AWAY FROM MY SET!" He tried shooing them until one flew into his mouth and his eyes started to glow.

"HOOOLLLYYY CRAAAAPPP THHHIIIISSSS ISSSSS AWWWWESSSSOOOMMMEEE!"

Meggy was dancing in the crowd before she noticed that Mario was missing. "Hey, where is..." She turned to find Mario singing "La la la la la la" while being hoisted up by tons of trolls that looked like they were about to collapse under the hundreds of pounds Mario weighed. Tari and Melony were helping Tag6 with throwing glitter into the audience.

Unknowingly, one ball of glitter accidentally hit poor Boopkins and the crowd went silent. Was he...dead...

Boopkins sprung back to life like nothing had happened and everyone just dismissed it, carrying on with the party. Up on stage, Four was dancing along with all the others and having a great time while someone was watching him.

Three glanced at the bubbly, happy troll. Made him sick. All this happiness and celebrating and for what? A day that just reminded him of the hardships he had faced in the past. Where he lost T-

Three snapped out of his miserable thoughts and rolled his eyes. If they wanted to die then that was just fine with him. It wasn't his problem anyway. A small, white fluffy dog came up to him with some more sticks which Three took and then patted the pup's head. Eggdog was Three's loyal pet that comforted the grumpy troll and kept him company when he felt lonely. With nothing more to do, the two made their way back to Three's evil villain lair, unknown to what happened next.

Four took it way too far and yelled "MORE GLITTER!" to which in an instant, a flash of colors and light had blinded the trolls and a massive explosion occurred.

On the other side of the forest, a figure with a torn up suit, bent antennas, and a dirty screen was reading off a map, stuck with the life of a commoner. The map had tons of x's scribbled on it, indicating all the places that this mysterious character had searched for in hopes of finding the one thing that could give his life purpose again.

He could have sworn he heard some kind of eruption as Mr Puzzles turned around, grabbed a telescope and peered through the lens. There it was again. Fireworks graced the sky with an image of the prince. A wide grin spread across Mr Puzzles's face as he knew exactly what the cause of this was. After many tireless years of searching..."Trolls."

"Alright everyone, I want to make an announcement." Four and his father were on stage as the prince wanted to do something special for him. Mario interrupted him by shouting out "Hey! That's Smg4! Mario's best friend!" A wave of shushes came from the crowd as the king cleared his throat in an insensitive manner.

"I'd like to take a second to celebrate our king, my father. 20 years ago tonight, he saved all of us from those dreaded-"

BOOM.

A series of echoing footsteps drew closer and closer as the trolls all looked up to see a man with a tv head, staring back at them. In a stroke of dumbness, Four tried to be hospitable by asking him "Uh...you like memes?" Mr Puzzles smiled and zipped open a bag to take the future feast of the Bergens back to where they belonged. "RUN!" the prince yelled as all the trolls sprinted in different directions.

This certainly wouldn't do. Mr Puzzles decided to pick trolls one by one. Luigi was shaking, terrified as he instantly got scooped up. Four rushed off the stage until he heard a familiar voice. "MARIO JR! WHERE ARE YOU!?" He saw his best friend searching for his pet when it was actually behind him, but it was too late as Mr Puzzles grabbed both of them.

"EVERYONE BLEND IN!" The trolls used their hair to make them look like leaves or grass. At this point, anything would suffice. Four almost got taken as well, but managed to duck out of the way. He then saw that Boopkins was trying to run as fast as his tiny feet would take him, soon before Bob came running and pushed him out of the way. "MOVE GREEN TURD!" A hand blocked their path and dragged them to the bag as Bob yelled out "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"

He looked another way and saw that Tari and Melony were hyperventilating, scrambling around instead of running, and it wasn't long before they too were captured. "Four help!" The prince found Meggy with a frightened group of children all huddled up in the open. He and Meggy guided them over to a patch of tall grass and told them to disguise themselves.

Meggy had unfortunately forgot to hide herself in an effort to protect her friends and was snatched right in front of Four's eyes. "Meggy!" He then saw Tag6 being pulled to the bag. The prince quickly extended his hair to make a rope for Tag6 to latch onto, but it almost didn't matter.

The grip loosened with every passing second until...both of them were separated and Four watched in horror as his friends were all stuffed into the bag. Mr Puzzles looked around for anymore wandering trolls and saw the king, hitting his foot and yelling "Let them go at once!"

Four saw Mr Puzzles reaching down for his father as he quickly saved him and hid under the stage platform. Not a sound. One peep and they were dead. Mr Puzzles crouched down to look at their hiding spot. They were gone...? Four's breath quickened as that screen kept looking straight at them. After a few seconds, Mr Puzzles realized he would have to come back later to gather the rest of them. He gave up and observed the remains of the village. "Thanks for throwing the biggest, loudest..."

"Craziest party ever!" Mario finished as he stuck his head out of the bag. Mr Puzzles shoved him back in and set off. Next stop, Bergen town. After the coast was clear, Four slowly removed the hair incasement that had blended in with the scenery. He got out and looked out in despair on what just happened. His friends were captured and the village was in ruins. All the other trolls got out from their hiding places as well to approach the king and prince on the situation.

"Is it coming back?" One of the trolls asked. "What are we gonna do now?" Another inquired. The prince tried to fight back the tears in his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat. Before he could provide an answer, the king quickly instructed "We have to find another home immediately! Everyone hurry before that...thing comes back!" Four was shocked. "We have to rescue my friends." The king shook his head and said "No. We have to run. Now come on, let's go!" Just up and abandoning everything like that. This wasn't the leader that the prince knew when he was small.

"What about no troll left behind?" The king stopped in his tracks and sighed. "I'm sorry Four. That was a long time ago and I'm no longer the great leader you admired so much." The prince thought to himself for a second and retorted back "Then I'll go and save them!"

"NO FOUR! THAT'S WAY TOO DANGEROUS!" He didn't stand down. "I have to try." His father didn't believe him. "You won't be able to make it to Bergen town by yourself. That's impossible." There was no response. It was impossible to get there by yourself. You would need help. That's when an idea struck in Four's mind. He knew just the troll to ask.

Three was sitting at his desk, staring sadly at the smashed invitation. Eggdog was laying down next to him, softly whimpering and looking up at him with adorable puppy eyes. Would he have felt better if he had gone to the party? Three opened a drawer that revealed a bunch of other cards that Four had sent him in the past. Even though he declined them all, he couldn't help but save them.

He then heard a knock at the door. Quickly, he rushed to stuff the invitation in the drawer with all the others, but they all began sounding off. The knocking turned into pounding as Three kept shoving them all inside while shushing them. Once he finally got them all in, he could hear the voice of his unwanted guest and sighed in annoyance.

Outside, Four was banging on the door to Three's lair while he kept calling out his name. "Three! Three! THREE ARE YOU IN THERE!" A piece of the door mat that read: "Go away losers!" opened and angry red eyes popped out.

"I'm not going to your party! Now leave me alone!"

"The party's over! We just got attacked by someone who is working for the Bergens!"

Three's eyes narrowed. "I knew it!" The door mat flung open and Three grabbed Four to bring him inside. The prince watched as the grumpy troll began setting out multiple locks and traps all around them. Once he finished with the last mousetrap, the two fell into silence. Three kept looking up, waiting for the sounds of Bergens to come flocking by his door.

"Three I-" He placed a hand over his mouth and shushed him. Four pushed his hand away as this was kinda important here. "I have to tell you something-" Three pointed a finger in his face and aggressively hushed him again. "I was just gonna-" Three was so irritated that this idiot would not shut up when told to so he whipped his head around and furiously went "SHHHHHH!!!"

Four groaned in frustration and quietly raised his hand. "What!? What could be so important that it's worth leading the Bergens right to us!?"

"It's gone!"

"You don't know that! It could still be out there! Watching...waiting...listening..." Three made very intense eye contact when he said that last part which kind of freaked Four out. He shook off that thought. Now that the awkward silence between them was over, it was back to addressing the situation to Three. "No it left! It took Meggy, Boopkins, Bob, Melony, Tari, Mario, Luigi, AND TAG6!"

Three rolled his eyes at that name while Four stopped freaking out for a moment and took a breath. "Which is why I have come to ask...will you come with me to Bergen town to rescue everyone?" Three's eyes widened and he looked kind of ticked off. "WHAT!? NO!" Four tried to reason with him. "Three! You can't say no! They're your friends!" He stopped the prince right there. "Not so fast! They're your friends, not mine."

"I'm staying here in my evil villain lair." Four threw his eyes back in annoyance to find that he had come all this way for nothing. "Oh that's just great. You're the one guy who knows more about Bergens than anyone, but when we finally need you, you're just going to hide down here forever!"

"Forever? No." He flipped a switch that Four had somehow missed on the way in. They began to descend down on a platform to his lair. "I really only have enough supplies down here to last me 10 years, maybe 11, if I'm willing to store and drink coffee from the beans I find...which I am!"

Four looked around in amazement. He had no idea that Three had built all of this. He had never bothered to invite Four, or anyone else to his home. "You all said that I was crazy, but who's crazy now?"

"..."

"Me. Crazy prepared."

The platform had arrived at the bottom and Three stepped off to store the sticks he had gathered earlier. Four then felt something brush up against his leg. The friendly little Eggdog wanted to say hello to the unexpected guest and barked happily at him. Four smiled and patted his head, then worked up the courage to admit he was wrong.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't listen to you." Three turned with a raised eyebrow to hear what he had to say. "You told me not to throw the party, I threw it anyway, it's my fault they were taken, and now I don't know what to do!" Three crossed his arms and said "Why don't you try praying to the memes for their freedom." Four looked unamused while Three had a smug grin.

"Well...thanks anyway." He headed off as Three called out "Sure. See you in 10 years idiot." Four kept his unimpressed eyeballs on Three as he pulled the lever. Once he was gone, Three's smile slowly faded. He started walking away when he heard the platform coming back.

"Hey Three? I was wondering if I could borrow something."

"What."

"You're lair!"

"WHAT!?"

The room was swarmed instantly by the entire population of trolls, all in desperate need of a home. Three grabbed Eggdog as the two were overwhelmed by the now crowded space they were sharing. "FOUR! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?" Four placed his hands on his hips like a sassy teenager and said "You said you had enough supplies to last 10 years right?" Three couldn't believe this moron had turned his own words against him. "To last me 10 years! ME! It will last them 2 weeks!"

"Then I guess I better hurry!" He began walking to the exit when Three stopped him by grabbing his hand. "Wait! You won't last a day out there."

Four pointed to the collection of trolls and roasted him back by saying "And you won't last a day in here." Three looked around and saw all the trolls drinking his coffee rations, playing with his bear traps, and smashing his valuables. He looked at the prince confused on how he was played while Four walked off.

"Four!"

He turned to find his father, filled with concern. "Please be careful." He nodded and said with reassurance "I can do this." His father hugged him and let his son carry on with the journey. Four got back on the platform and said "Bye everyone! See you soon!" Three pushed through the crowd as they waved back "Good luck prince Smg4!"

Four stared at his hug time bracelet and counted down with his fingers "And 3...2...1..." A ding sounded off and that was his cue to leave as he pulled the lever. All the trolls's bracelets sounded off and Three's pupils shrunk instantly. "Hug time!" He slowly backed away as the crowd drew closer like zombies. "No..." Four watched Three become more panicked induced as the trolls came closer and closer.

"No! NO! NOOOO!"

Chapter 3: Coming Soon

#comedy #adventure #action #romance #smg4 #smg3 #smg34 #smg4 au #smg34 fanfiction #trolls #trolls au #trolls movie #trolls bergens #smg4 trolls #trolls branch #trolls poppy

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