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magnificoluvr · 5 months

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— silly rosas royalty fic based on my own post

With a light sigh, Queen Amaya climbed the stairs of the Rosas castle. Earlier, she was a part of setting up for the upcoming wish ceremony, and it had taken much longer than expected due to a few minor complications. Thankfully, everything was sorted out in due time, though it admittedly exhausted Amaya. She wasn’t sure what time it was now — likely after midnight — but she was glad to finally be heading to bed. By now, she knew that her husband would likely already be fast asleep. Unlike most nights, she could fall asleep without a string of complaints about his day before the two slept; not that she minded, truly, but the silence would be appreciated this evening.

Opening the door to their shared chamber, Amaya looked to the wide bed in the middle of the room. Sure enough, a distinct figure lay snugly under the bedsheets. Feeling relieved, she stepped into the room, closing the door behind herself, and got ready for sleep.

Sitting at the edge of her side of the bed, she took a moment to gaze down at the sleeping Magnifico, who was lying on his side and facing Amaya. He looked peaceful, judging by the content expression on his face, lips slightly parted. His chest and shoulders rose with every slow breath he took in his slumber, and his hands met beside his head, one next to the other. An endeared smile on her face, Amaya lifted a hand to lightly brush away stray bangs that had fallen onto his face.

Turning her head away to yawn, she was reminded of her desire to rest. Amaya laid down and pulled the bedsheets over herself — what she could manage to gather, anyway, since Magnifico had a tendency to take them for himself while asleep. Turning to face Magnifico, she reached over to his hand that was facing up and held it in her own before she let out an exhale and closed her eyes. As tired as she was, she never could fall asleep right away, and didn’t doubt that this night would be the same. Even so, she laid there for a while, silent and still. Perhaps she should have prepared tea prior to coming to bed, she thought, but it was too late now.

As it was most nights, the chamber was incredibly silent; a pin could drop and it would echo. Even the wind outside settled into quietude at this hour. That factor, combined with the moonlight gleaming softly through the window’s curtains, tended to make for a good atmosphere conducive to dozing.

When Amaya was half asleep, steadily slipping into slumber, she felt something that began to pull her out of it. After a moment, she recognized that her hand was being tightly gripped; she opened her eyes and, adjusting to the darkness, discerned that it was Magnifico’s hand that was under hers. Focusing on his face, she saw that his eyebrows were furrowed and his mouth formed a frown, with sweat beading on his forehead. His features were scrunched up as if to convey discomfort or pain, yet his eyes were closed. The concerning sight woke her instantly. She sat up, noting that his breathing had become unsteady, and freed her hand from his grasp to gently shake his shoulder.

“Mi rey?” Amaya called, keeping her voice low, in an attempt to wake her husband. This wasn’t the first time something similar had happened, but it was months ago. When Magnifico didn’t open his eyes, she nudged him again. “Mi–”

Suddenly, with a gasp, Magnifico woke with a start, springing up to be sitting. Amaya recoiled slightly, having flinched at the unexpected movement. Worry painted her face while she watched him closely. The man hadn’t seemed to notice her yet, his eyes wide with panic that darted around the room, so she put a hand on his shoulder with hesitance. He, too, flinched at the contact, but his expression softened when their eyes met.

“Oh, Amaya, darling,” Magnifico sighed, sounding relieved. His breath appeared to slow to some degree upon seeing her.

“Are you alright?” She questioned, raising her tone to match his and leaning in a little. Her hand remained firm on his shoulder, but it was clearly a caring gesture.

“I had a terrible dream.” He responded as though waiting for her to ask, looking away to stare down at the blankets. Out of sheer habit, he slicked back his messed-up hair with one hand as he recollected his thoughts. Amaya waited patiently for him to continue.

She wasn’t sure how long it had been since she came to bed. It could have been minutes or hours, there was no way to tell. Really, it didn’t matter, for any tiredness she had melted away for now. There were more important matters on her mind, like the one in front of her.

Magnifico closed his eyes, his jaw clenching. “It was like I was there again,” he started after a minute of silence, tilting his head to see Amaya once more. “In my childhood home, with my family. When everything…” He trailed off. Quieter, he instead said, “It felt so real.”

He looked incredibly vulnerable, a somewhat rare sight. Amaya wondered if he might be feeling like that scared little boy from years past. “Breathe,” she said, and for once, he inhaled deeply. The king’s gaze was trained on her. “It’s over. You’re safe now.”

“Yes, but..”

“It won’t happen again, mi rey.” She let her hand fall from his shoulder to take his hands in her own. “We built this kingdom so that would never happen again.”

He exhaled. “...Right.”

“And you are the one keeping us safe.”

Slowly, he nodded, taking her words in. His eyes flitted between hers, as if searching for something. “You’re right.”

Gently, Amaya caressed the back of his hand with her thumb. A few seconds passed before Magnifico leaned in to give her a peck on the cheek. “Thank you, my love,” he murmured while leaning back. He squeezed her hands briefly as a small smile graced his face.

As usual, she couldn’t help but smile back. Remembering that they should both be getting back to resting, Amaya tore away from his hypnotic stare to look at their entwined hands instead. “Do you need anything? Hot tea, or…?”

Magnifico let out a soft chuckle. “No, I think I’m alright.” He paused, before continuing, “Why don’t we just.. lay down, for a while?”

“That would be nice,” Amaya agreed. Their hands parted and they returned to their earlier positions. Magnifico wrapped an arm around his wife and pulled her close, and Amaya gladly returned the embrace. It felt good to be so close in the tranquil atmosphere, since it wasn’t often that the two cuddled in such a way, often more concerned with just getting a proper amount of rest for the following day. Still, it was a simple pleasure they were glad to indulge this night.

The couple settled into their embrace, each closing their eyes in preparation to return to sleep. Quietly, Magnifico took another deep breath. Although he wasn’t saying anything, Amaya could sense that his paranoid thoughts weren’t quite kept at bay. Often, it would certainly take more than a few soothing words to ease his worries, especially when it came to matters of the city, but he seemed intent on figuring it out himself.

“Mi rey?”

“Hm?”

“Everything is going to be fine. Okay?” Her voice was hardly above a whisper. She wasn’t sure how much she could do for him now, considering she could feel herself getting tired again, but she hoped it would help at least a little.

After a few seconds, Magnifico echoed her words. “Everything.. is going to be fine.” It sounded as though he was speaking more to himself. Even if there was no active threat, it wasn’t hard for him to spiral. They were both glad that Amaya was there to ground him.

Thankfully, it appeared to work well enough, as he soon fell back to sleep. It didn’t take long before Amaya followed in his footsteps, the two more than comfortable in their warm position.

Even if, perhaps, they could not prevent the happenings of the past from repeating themselves, it was certain that everything would be fine, so long as they stuck together.

In a moment like this, neither could consider any alternative.

#short and shitty but i just had to write something little for them #dawg this is my first proper fanfiction in god knows how long #king magnifico #queen amaya #wishparents #rosas royalty #disney wish #wish #might be ooc #ough #wish spoilers #? sort of. mentions his backstory #not proofread if you see any mistakes they don’t exist

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sophsicle · 1 year

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Once upon a time there was a pirate, who fell in love with a king

chapter 1

#i might have done a thing #cause i am weak #and cause kerry asked me to #and when kerry asks me to write things i am legally obligated to #this is just how it works #NO I DON"T HAVE A PLAN #yes i understand that this is insane #and that i don't have to post everything immediately after i write it and that #i could be normal #and hold things back until i have more of them #BUT I HAVE NO IMPULSE CONTROL OKAY #soph rambles #jegulus #james potter #regulus black #sirius black #wolfstar #pirate au #royalty au

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laundrybiscuits · 4 months

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Found myself reading some old Inception fic and felt the urge to poke at an AU idea—I know ST fandom skews a little young, so I genuinely don’t know how many people will even get this. If there are Inception primers out there, I haven’t bothered to find them, so…you’re on your own, kids.

“Absolutely not. I do my own forges.” Eddie sweeps the file off the table and directly into the trashcan; admittedly, it’s not the most mature thing he’s ever done, but Henderson’s getting on his last goddamned nerve.

The little twerp has the fucking audacity to roll his eyes and groan, like Eddie’s the one being unreasonable. “I know this guy, don’t be a dick. He can do it. Don’t you wanna focus on your super special architect stuff?”

“What you and every other dumbass dilettante drowser don’t seem to grasp is that my architecture is alive, and I breathe life into it via my meticulously crafted characters. I create richly textured worlds, Henderson, and I populate them myself. That’s why I’m the best in the fucking business: because I understand that the people and the setting are one and the same, and I can handle both.”

“Eddie.” Henderson crouches to grab the file out of the trash, and smacks it back down on the table. “I’m running this team, and I’m saying I don’t want anything like what happened in Munich to ever happen again. Okay?”

“Low blow, kid,” snaps Eddie. “Munich wasn’t on me.”

“I know, jeez. I just…” Henderson takes a second to tap the loose sheets in the file back into place, then stands there with his lips pressed together like he’s keeping something in. After a moment, he just says, “This isn’t going to be Munich. Because Steve’s going to be here.”

———

It’s not Munich. It’s not Munich at all. It is the furthest fucking thing from Munich possible.

Eddie’s never had a job go that smoothly—and it’s not down to Henderson’s obsessive prep, because it should’ve been a slippery one. The kind of job that twisted partway through into something frustratingly unexpected, forcing them to improvise and take whatever half-win they could squeeze out of the mark’s subconscious while dodging completely unexpected security.

Instead, it’s so incredibly not-Munich that the client gives them a fucking bonus, and when was the last time that happened? The bonus is generous enough that Eddie’s share can cover a whole new safehouse in Melbourne, which should have been great news, something to celebrate, except for the absolutely unholy amount of smugness now radiating from Henderson.

Eddie avoids the I-told-you-so conversation as long as he can, but he can’t run forever.

“I told you so,” says Henderson, flopping unceremoniously into the dark wooden chair next to Eddie.

“This is a library, dude. Keep your fuckin’ voice down,” says Eddie, without much hope. He’d heard Henderson was supposed to be meeting up with Sinclair in Lima this week; so much for that intel.

Henderson waves a dismissive hand, gesturing vaguely at the domed skylight high overhead. “It’s not like a library library. It’s basically a museum.”

“The goddamn State Library of Victoria is absolutely one hundred percent a library library, genius. See all the books? But also, do you think people go around yelling in museums?”

“Maybe they should! What we should be focusing on now, though, is that I was right about Steve, and I think it’s important for our working relationship that you acknowledge I was right.”

“I don’t have to acknowledge shit,” says Eddie, slumping down and ignoring the glares they’re starting to get from everyone in the atrium. “Anyone ever tell you you’re an egomaniac, kid? I don’t even get why you’re so hot on the guy, anyway. He’s like—the least imaginative forger I’ve ever met.”

It comes out a little harsher than he’d meant it. It’s just that forgers, as a people, tend to be easily swept into flights of fancy.

Eddie’s always sort of thought it was a requirement of the profession: when he’s inhabiting a character, part of his mind is always working to generate the little details that make them feel like a whole person. Their secret fears and even more secret hopes. How they deal with boredom or anger, what their gut reactions are. The small gaps between how they see themselves and how others see them. That’s where Eddie thrives, and he thinks that if he were less hooked on the magic of spinning up entire worlds for marks to wander through, he might forge full-time, just for the thrill of riding that uncertainty. It’s how he was taught, but clearly, Steve learned something different.

What Steve does isn’t really classical forging—not in the way Eddie thinks about it, usually. Steve just…walks into a situation, says some stuff, maybe gives the mark a smile all warm and private like a whispered secret. And then the mark folds. It’s maddening how easy Steve makes it look. Oh, he’ll pull on the right costumes and tweak his physicality a little, but it’s always still just Steve underneath.

Maybe that’s the trick. Eddie’s forges work because he crafts lavishly detailed lies; Steve’s forges work because there’s some kind of real, solid honesty at the core.

“I’m going to ignore the hurtful thing you just said because I know you hate to admit it when I’m right and you’re wrong,” Henderson informs him. “You really gotta work on that. More importantly, I’ve got a lead on a new job, and Steve already said yes.”

It’s not like Eddie needs the money. Henderson’s a nightmare to work with. And there’s the, y’know. The Steve Harrington of it all. Eddie has a million reasons to say no.

“Yeah, whatever,” he says instead. “When do we start?”

#not the start of a new thing! just a napkin scribble!#weirdly I think the most challenging part of writing this was shifting my core concept of the boys away from Just Some Guy #personally I'm not super drawn to rockstar or royalty AUs for them bc they're so intensely Just Some Guy to me #more specifically I find it fascinating how they deal with the absence of social validation in different ways #Inception AU

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thewriteadviceforwriters · 10 months

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Hello! Do you have any tips for writing 'geopolitical' relationships between kingdoms in a story?

In The Forgotten Legends of Chima, there are tribes of anthropomorphic animals (separated by species) who have their own lifestyle and culture. There are certain tribes with more privilege than others (e.g. some are more rich than others, some withhold more Chi than others), which of course will cause some kind of resentment from others. Not only that, but the actions the leaders/kings take also affect their relationship with other tribes. The people suffer from all of this too; if a king, for example, dislikes a certain tribe, his people will also dislike it too.

I'm trying to write these kinds of relationships as realistically as possible, because TFLOC's story is almost entirely based on the coexistence of Chima's tribes. How do you, or any other writer, tackle this in their stories? Any tips? Thanks :)

How to Write Geopolitical Relationships Between Kingdoms in Any Fictional Story

Thank you so much for this submission, I'll try my best to give you a professional, and detailed explanation so you don't have to do as much research as I did (lol).

Introduction

Geopolitical relationships are the intricate connections and dynamics that exist between kingdoms in a fictional world. These relationships play a crucial role in shaping the political, social, and economic landscape of your story. By understanding and effectively portraying these relationships, you can add depth and intrigue to your narrative. I'll try my best to provide you information and help you explore the elements of geopolitical relationships and provide tips on how to write realistic and engaging connections between kingdoms in your fictional story.

What are Geopolitical Relationships?

Geopolitical relationships refer to the intricate connections and interactions between different kingdoms in your fictional world. It encompasses various aspects such as geography, history, culture, and economics. These relationships determine how kingdoms interact, cooperate, or clash with each other, shaping the overall political and social landscape of your story.

Why are They Important in Fictional Stories?

Geopolitical relationships are important in fictional stories for several reasons. Firstly, they add a layer of realism and authenticity to your narrative, making the world you've created feel more immersive. By understanding the geopolitical dynamics, readers can engage with the story on a deeper level.

Moreover, these relationships serve as a catalyst for conflict and suspense. They provide opportunities for power struggles, alliances, betrayals, and dramatic plot twists. When done effectively, geopolitical relationships can captivate readers and keep them hooked throughout the story.

How to Write Realistic Geopolitical Relationships

(Now, the good part.)

To write realistic geopolitical relationships in your fictional story, you need to consider several key elements. These elements include geography, history, culture, and economics. Let me help you explore each of them in detail:

Geography

Geography plays a crucial role in shaping geopolitical relationships. Consider the physical location of the kingdoms, including their natural resources and borders. A kingdom located near valuable resources may have an advantage in trade negotiations or military capabilities. By understanding the geographical factors, you can develop realistic relationships between kingdoms.

History

The past interactions between kingdoms significantly influence their present relationships. Historical events such as wars, trade agreements, and alliances shape the attitudes, trust, and animosity between kingdoms. Take into account the history of your fictional world and the impact it has on the geopolitical landscape.

Culture

The different cultures of the kingdoms are an essential aspect of geopolitical relationships. Explore their distinct values, beliefs, customs, and social structures. These cultural differences can create tensions, misunderstandings, and alliances between kingdoms. By delving into the cultural aspects, you can enhance the authenticity and complexity of your geopolitical relationships.

Economics

Economic systems and trade relations are crucial factors in geopolitical relationships. Consider the economic capabilities of each kingdom and how they influence their interactions. Trade agreements, rivalries, and military capabilities are all elements that can be influenced by the economic dynamics between kingdoms. By incorporating these aspects, you can create more realistic and engaging geopolitical relationships.

How to Write Realistic Geopolitical Relationships

Now that we have explored the key elements of geopolitical relationships, let's discuss some practical tips on how to write them effectively:

Do your research: To create believable geopolitical relationships, take inspiration from real-world history and geography. Understanding how real nations interacted can provide valuable insights for crafting realistic relationships between your fictional kingdoms.

Be consistent: Once you have established the geopolitical relationships between your kingdoms, strive for consistency throughout your story. Ensure that the actions and decisions of the kingdoms align with their established relationships. This consistency will make the narrative more coherent and enhance the credibility of your world.

Use conflict: Geopolitical conflict can be a fantastic source of drama and suspense in your story. Introduce clashes of interests, political intrigue, and power struggles between kingdoms. Utilize the tensions and rivalries to create compelling conflict that drives the plot forward.

Don't be afraid to change things: If you find that the initial geopolitical relationships need adjustments to serve your story's plot, feel free to modify them. As long as the changes are well-justified within the context of your story, altering the relationships can add unexpected twists and keep readers engaged.

Conclusion

Geopolitical relationships are a vital component of fictional storytelling. By understanding and portraying these relationships realistically, you can enrich your narrative and captivate readers. Remember to consider the elements of geography, history, culture, and economics when crafting these relationships. By conducting proper research, maintaining consistency, utilizing conflict, and being flexible with adjustments, you can create engaging geopolitical relationships that truly bring your fictional world to life.

(That was a handful of words lol)

Additional Tips I Use for Writing Geopolitical Relationships in Fictional Stories:

Think about the motivations of the different kingdoms. What are their goals? What are their fears?

Consider the role of individual characters within the geopolitical landscape. How do they influence or interact with the different kingdoms?

Use the geopolitical relationships to create conflict and suspense in your story.

Don't hesitate to change the geopolitical relationships as your story progresses. Flexibility can lead to more exciting plot developments.

TheWriteAdviceForWriters 2023

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lavender-0-menace · 1 year

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personally, the only thing i want out of the new deadpool movie is an andrew garfield cameo in which wade goes oh he’s hot and maybe a spider-man reference that is literally it i am begging

#(hits blackboard with a list on it) here’s how andrew!spidey x deadpool can still win #i’ve connected the dots #(you didn’t connect shit)#i’ve connected them #ryan reynolds #if you see this you can just go ahead and add this to the movie i won’t take royalties #i will literally write a draft that you can take the producers and say you wrote #it will be our little secret #all my payment will be the pleasure of making dudebros mad and the spideypool fans explode #spideypool #andrew garfield #peter parker #deadpool #wade wilson #deadpool movie #deadpool 2023 #the gay agenda

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saccharinecoffee · 8 months

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I think it's so funny and also based that they turned Helmut Zemo, a prolific nazi in the comics, into an extremely vocal anti-imperialist fruity leftist, one of the absolute funniest decisions that could have been made.

#they also made him an absolute mastermind even tho hes literally just a little guy whos very patient and very rich #and thats the thing thats so interesting #hes a wealthy leftist #hes a descendent of royalty and hes a leftist #dude joined the army and was a part of a deadly efficient combat group and hes a leftist #do you know how much effort it takes to be a leftist when youre surrounded by that much right wing doctrine #id love to write about the road he took to get to the point he is now #mcu #helmut zemo #zemo #baron zemo

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m0e-ru · 8 months

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bro causing the bedsheet and dry ice industrial supply shortage

#persona 4 spoilers #persona 4 #p4 #izanami persona #⛽️🌫#shadow naoto #gas station salad special #mayonaka terebi suteeshon #gsa sl au #arttag #boot.tingting #// discord screenshots because commentary is so important hello #// when my friend messaged that i was like what the fuck i love divorce #// this isnt part of the propaganda btw but you can have this doodle dump in the meantime i think #// so much to write up on about how mimis formation works throughout the timeline so we're stuck with jesus robes and jp royalty i guess #// the next ones going to be really special LOL okya have a nice day okuyakuan <- managing new scheduling while poll is going on

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tavina-writes · 3 months

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currently trying to think if I remember any situations in Jin Yong wuxia where a family preferred sons over daughters (especially as like, a socially mandated thing) and coming up short.

Like I think there are plenty of situations where powerful men/families/sects only have one child and that child is a daughter. And this is neither weird, highly remarked upon, or considered odd in any way. Nor is anyone feeling pressed to come up with a son in the future.

Ren Yingying from XAJH, Yue Lingshan from XAJH, Huang Rong from LOCH, Guo Fu (from ROCH) for a good portion of her life (16 years of it, also Guo Fu wasn't displaced bc one of the twins was a boy, NOR were her parents trying to have more children on purpose), Yang Guo and XLN's daughter from ROCH/HSDS, Gongsun Lu'e from ROCH, etc.

Also their status range from like 'extremely important and visible family in the jianghu' to 'actually not all that well known' so it's not just a "well our family is powerful so who gives a fuck" kind of situation.

Like these are male dominated books, there are more men than there are women in Jin Yong's books (there are really cool women in his books though), but there's almost none 'oh no how will a girl inherit!' left beef. The girl will learn martial arts, like it's hard?

I think this is also relatively true of Gu Long books too, so at some points I'm left ??? at the discourse re: inheritance and gender in MDZS fandom bc I don't think it's actively stated anywhere that women aren't supposed to inherit? Or aren't allowed? or are less capable? or that there's a strong societal prejudice against it? Just. It's a danmei so most of these positions are occupied by men. Like, there are maybe five whole women and even less among the juniors. Who and how and why will they inherit if they don't exist.

#this isn't actually meta #I'm just tagging it that way bc I'm having a thinky thought again #like there's a surprising number of only or eldest daughters in Jin Yong's writing #and nobody is remotely commenting about this #like all of HYS's associates meet his daughter and they're not like 'man you should've had a son are you getting a son soon'#NO they're like 'oh my god I wish EYE had a cute daughter'#meta #my meta #I'm thinking about this in terms of like how people discuss inheritance or genderswaps in MDZS #bc I don't....I don't actually think the sects in MDZS (as they are in canon) would...#seriously have an issue with girl heirs?#like maybe the lan bc lan yi was so unpopular but like they tried one female sect leader at least lmao #like idk I just see this in fic/post canon fic a lot where there's this anxiety to have a son and I'm just left standing there like #'idk if this world is actually that misogynistic in this way #this seems like it's been transplanted from the imperial/royalty/nobility inheritance crisis genre'

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aquapede · 3 months

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w,ould you forgive me if i started babygirlposting about him

#talk tag #not normal.#the two characters taking up so much space in my mind rn are both royalty people are going to think im a monarchist (joke)#actually the contrast between the two of them is insane.#me writing paragraphs of analysis on the princess and her symbolism and character vs. i think its funny how hes a horrible person <3

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skitskatdacat63 · 7 months

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I meant to write more for a pt 2 lore post earlier but didn't end up doing so, so pls take these AU sketches(Mark & Jense and then some assorted sketchies)

#i should never have drawn them as catboys bcs now they appear as catboys in mind half the time 😭😭#its only on paper but i drew more catboy sketches of them than whats included here 😭#seb reminds me of my cat where hes being all nice and cuddly and then will bite you out of nowhere #seb in his frilly nightgown is very important to me!!!#i meant to draw both of them in nightgowns but brain wasnt worked too well tonight #so thats why these are mostly half finished #the bottom seb is too remind myself i have a regular art style 😭😭😭#mark in this au is so funny to me. bro is tortured by having to be with seb like practically every waking moment #he basically is a offically provided live-in bestie 😭😭#*based on real life thing. i think its funny how you can be royalty yourself +#but bcs youre not part of the imperial family you can still be reduced to the job of having to dress the emperor 😭#^ so thats mark in this au #seb promoted him to an important role when he became emperor but still makes mark do his old duties 🤭🤭#jense is in charge of all the horses and transport and things. thus: ye olde horse girl #im sorry but in historical AUs all f1 drivers are legally obligated to be horse girls. its literally canon #so sorry for the catboy sketch. it will happen again.#but ig i dont wanna go too deep into lore stuff in these tags cause yeah. another post in the works!!#i think about it and have talked about it a lot. but its hard to like contain all of it to bullet points and such #my brain is not built for writing fic i think so idk of youll ever get that from me. but lore yes i will deliver #sebastian vettel #fernando alonso #jenson button #mark webber #f1 fanart #formula 1 fanart #catie.art.#formula 1 #boy king au

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barnesify · 7 months

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enchanted ୨୧ winterspider abo chapter 2

read on ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/49615612

Peter is sipping tea, curled up in an armchair a bit too big for his size as he waits carefully. His father is sitting next to him, stern eyes watching the door for Bucky’s arrival. King Rogers is pacing, glancing at his watch and then back down every few moments.

Bucky walks in, silent but articulate as he bows to the Kings and their presence. He knows that he’s in for a whole world of trouble if he doesn’t make it up to them. Thinking about the princess is one thing, but dancing with him? It’s nearly forbidden.

“Barnes,” King Rogers says, finally ending his pacing to turn and look at the young alpha.

Bucky gulps. He glances at Peter, who’s almost shy as he curls into the chair and takes another gentle sip from his tea.

“It seems that—“

Tony cuts Steve off, standing abruptly. He seems like he’s about to burst from anger. “This cannot be true. You have imprinted on my son?! What a disgrace! He has tens, hundreds of young men lining up to take his hand and you have ruined it all!”

Bucky shys away, lowering his head like a kicked puppy. He knows that. Peter is a once in a lifetime opportunity. An omega born from alpha blood is rare, but a male omega? It was no wonder that King Stark was so protective. He understands the King’s rage.

“He must be executed!” Tony yells again, and King Rogers lets out a disgruntled sound.

“Stark,” He begins, almost gentle. Steve knows that Tony’s alpha brain is kicking in. This is his son, after all. “Barnes is my best asset. He has done many great things for the Rogers kingdom. He has never slipped up like this before. And well… is your son in any danger? Any harm?”

Tony’s disposition falls for a moment. He turns, looking at his young omegan son. He’s beautiful, curled up, gazing over at the three men. His own crown has been retired to the table, his curls a mess, but his dress is still snug against his lithe frame. There isn’t a scratch on him. Tony knows that, but..

“A bodyguard dancing with a member of the royal family is highly inappropriate, Steven. You know this as well as I. And I mean, look at the brute. I wouldn’t be surprised if he would be able to tear any omega he sees in half.”

Bucky looks at Tony, hands clasped behind his back in respect. He’s itching to say something, to tell the Kings that it was an accident, that he had no idea that Peter was apart of the royal court.

Both of the Kings open their mouths to argue yet again, before a lovely little chirp fills the room.

“I like him.”

It takes Bucky a moment to realize that Peter has just spoken. He blinks, eyes wide. King Stark and King Rogers both turn to look at Peter, who’s now setting his cup of tea down.

“Oh, my angel. My bambino. You could not be serious. This… this alpha is not a prince. You could have anyone, anyone in the world. I will give you anything. You can’t..” Tony tries, stalking over to his young son. For the first time, Bucky can really smell him.

King Stark’s scent has now turned from anxious to protective. A wave of guilt hits Bucky.

“If I can have anyone, why not him?” Peter says again, soft brown eyes landing on Bucky himself.

The alpha blushes on contact, feeling himself get hot and red from the gaze of Peter. God, Peter. He really is such a gorgeous boy. He’s fit to rule a kingdom, after his father retires the crown. He’s beautiful, and wonderfully shy, but he voices his wants when they really matter and—

Bucky finds himself smiling, albeit discarding it when he notices that King Stark and King Rogers can see it too.

“Well, you see, Bambi, you are going to rule one day. And well… Mr. Barnes is not. It’s just how life works.”

Bucky feels a pang of hurt in his heart. But King Stark is right. Peter was born to rule, born to live with fame and fortune and riches of the highest kind. And Bucky was born to be a guard. To protect. He wasn’t born out of wealth, this he knew.

“I know that,” Peter says, undoubtedly wise despite his age. “It’s just..” The omega’s eyes flash back to Bucky and where he’s standing. Bucky realizes, in the dim light, that Peter’s eyes are filling with crystal tears. All of the alphas in the room are in a alignment at once, any omega whose tears threaten to fall can cause any alpha’s resolve to break. It’s a trick that Peter’s used on his father many times.

Steve doesn’t say anything, and Bucky steps forward only slightly, feeling his chest ache, but he watches as Tony leans down to sit with his son. Bucky watches. He notices their movements, how this is something they’ve done before, the way Peter curls up against him and cries. Crying? Over a dirty old alpha? Bucky almost feels flattered, but the sound of Peter’s weeping makes him more concerned than ever.

“Oh, angel. My beautiful heir to the throne.” Tony tsks and pets his head carefully. “I…. will see what I can do.”

It’s like Peter’s been programmed to cry on command, because as soon as Tony says it, his face lights up and the tears diminish immediately. “Oh, thank you, daddy!” He grins, utterly delighted now.

୨୧

The next day, Bucky is being assigned a new job. One that nothing could have ever prepared him for.

“Princess Peter Stark’s personal bodyguard.” He reads the parchment, gulping dryly.

“It’ll be fine, Buck. The Stark Kingdom is lovely. Plus, you’ll get to hang out with Peter Stark. I mean, it’s every dying man’s wish.”

Bucky grumbles absentmindedly at Clint’s teasing, signing his name carefully on the parchment. This job was the only way that King Stark would agree to let his and Peter’s relationship ever get to see the light of day.

“Hey, don’t forget me while you’re gone.”

“How could I forget with all your incessant babbling?” Bucky bites back, but it’s all in good fun.

He’s packing his bags, now, only having a couple of clothes for downtime, but the rest are being provided by the king. There’s a pool of anxiety swirling at the bottom of his stomach. Without Steve there to calm the storm, who knows what Tony will do to him?

#winterspider #peter parker #tony stark #bucky barnes #omegaverse #abo #steve rogers #royalty au #omega peter #alpha bucky #alpha steve #alpha tony #shy bucky how i love you #lee writes

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leiawritesstories · 6 months

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hiiii you might be busy with rowaelin month but can i ask for you to bring fedreick out ang give me a really angsty one shot about how rowan dies but aelin needs a heir for tesseran and she basically has to have a heir with a important lord or something but after they have sex he tries to stay and aelin just kicks him out and cries

and the maybe after if your feeling nice you could be fredick away and give me a rowaelin baby being born one shot?????

(Frederick speaking) oh i would love to do this mwahahaha

(Leia speaking) i modified the prompt a little because it genuinely hurt my soul but i hope you like it

word count: 4k (oopsies)

CW: references to death and illness, crying, pain, angsty angst, medical talk, doctors, Frederick's work ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aelin had known this day, this meeting, was coming, but it didn't stop her splintered heart from breaking into a thousand more pieces the moment she walked in the door.

Following the usual opening remarks, she motioned to Lord Darrow, and he stood, offered her a hint of a pained smile, and pronounced the words she knew were going to come. "Your Majesty, there remains the matter of an heir." He cleared his throat, stifling the faint tremor his voice had carried. "As you remember, it was the final clause of the succession."

Aelin laced her fingers tightly together beneath the table and nodded once, a bare dip of her chin. "I am aware of the terms of the royal succession, my lord." When she had come of age four years ago and been crowned Queen of Terrasen, she had been fully aware of the terms of her great-uncle Orlon's will. For her to keep the throne, she had to be married and have a child within the first five years of her queenship, else she would be subject to a council vote on whether or not to keep the throne in the Galathynius line.

It was a horrifically outdated custom for the twenty-first century, but here they all were.

Darrow paced a slow line back and forth across the front of the council chamber. "We understand that His Majesty's...untimely passing...was a great tragedy." The words shot spears through Aelin's fractured heart. "Because of this, we are willing to extend the term to six years. However, Your Majesty, with all due respect, if you are not with child by the time your sixth year has elapsed, we are afraid we shall have to call for a vote."

Tears prickled at Aelin's eyes, but she forced them away. "I thank you for your generosity," she murmured, unable to speak any louder lest she burst into sobs in the middle of a meeting. "My husband..." She took a deep breath, compressing the painfully beautiful memories of Rowan back into the ironclad box where they belonged. "Losing my husband has been the hardest part of my queenship, even the hardest part of my life."

"We understand." Genuine empathy rippled across the lines of Darrow's aged face.

"But there is still the matter of the will," Aelin finished. "I understand." Softly, she cleared her throat. "What is your suggestion, council?"

Darrow motioned at Lady Alister, who passed him a small sheet of paper. "With your permission, Majesty, we have prepared a short list of, ah, acceptable father candidates." He spoke the words with discomfort--the will had stipulated that the father must have noble or royal heritage, yet another horribly outdated custom. "Thanks to modern medicine, you have the option to conceive via IVF, but if you would prefer the, ah, traditional--"

"Show me the list." Aelin wiped all emotion from her voice and held out her hand. With a brief nod, Darrow passed her the short list, and she glanced over the handful of noble names. "Are you all not aware that Dorian is happily married?"

Lady Alister cleared her throat, a little nervously. "The King of Adarlan...he, well, he volunteered."

"Of course," Aelin sighed. She crossed his name off the list. "You may thank him for his willingness, but I shall have to turn down his offer." She turned back to Darrow. "What are your suggestions for this process?"

"Each of the men listed there has agreed to the terms of this...ah, arrangement, so if you'd like, you may either go the traditional way of dating or we can arrange a meeting with the doctors."

It wasn't even a decision. "Please schedule me a doctor's appointment. The sooner, the better." Clinging to her last shreds of composure, Aelin stood. "Will there be anything else?"

"That is all, Your Majesty." Darrow and the rest of the council stood and bowed as Aelin left the room.

In the darkness of the wee hours of the night, Aelin jerked awake with a shuddering gasp. Tears spilled from her eyes as she instinctively reached across the bed to find Rowan's half empty, the sheets and pillows cold to her touch. The dream had been so vivid, she'd almost believed she'd wake up and find him smiling sleepily at her.

"I--gods, Fireheart!" Rowan's yelp pierced Aelin's ears. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Live a little, buzzard!" she yelled back, laughing giddily at the exhilarating rush of wind blowing past as she urged her motorbike faster along the track. She tipped her helmet-protected head back and whooped, the bright sound bouncing off the walls of the canyon.

With a rumbling whoosh of engines, Rowan pulled his motorbike up alongside hers and flicked up the visor of his helmet so he could roll his eyes at her. "I swear, Ae, you're going to make my heart stop one of these days."

"I'll settle for making your brain blank out," she smirked, snickering at the way her husband's throat bobbed thickly. "But that's after I win!" She floored the gas, and her bike leaped forwards, outpacing Rowan in seconds.

He charged up behind her, following her as closely as he dared without risking running his bike into hers in the confines of the narrow canyon road. "Don't be so sure of that, love!"

She just laughed and coaxed more speed out of the motorbike, leading them out of the twisting curves into the final, flat stretch of track, where she could see the handful of staff waiting at the bright green finish line. She knew at least a few of them were rolling their eyes at the wild antics of their queen and king, but what could she say? It was her once-a-month free day.

"Fifteen seconds!" she shouted over her shoulder, pushing for one last burst of speed. She flew through the finish line half a second ahead of Rowan, slowed down, and eventually turned around and made her way back, slowly.

Rowan was waiting at the finish line, looking absolutely delicious in his tightly fitted jeans, boots, and black leather jacket, helmet tucked under his arm, his pale hair a windblown mess. "Congratulations, love," he murmured, shooting her one of those smirks that made her core turn to jelly.

"Thank you," she purred, dismounting from the bike and taking off her own helmet and gloves. Her hair was braided tightly around her head, but some strands had worked their way loose and brushed against her sweaty neck.

"Let me." Handing off both his and her helmets, Rowan tucked the loose strands behind Aelin's ear. "Better?"

"Much better." She rose onto her tiptoes, grabbed the collar of his jacket, and yanked him down for a kiss, not giving a shit who saw. Her kingdom was used to the affection she shared with her husband. "Want to give me my prize now?"

"In front of poor Lord Darrow?" he teased in a low, raspy whisper. "I didn't know you were that exhibitionist, Ae."

"You naughty boy." She playfully swatted his shoulder and led him into the car. "When we get home."

He hummed in agreement but still spent most of the drive back to the castle with her in his lap, brushing teasing little kisses to the sensitive skin of her throat. She barely made it through the private entrance and into the elevator before she jumped on him, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist and crashing her lips into his.

The elevator stopped with a ding and she stumbled out with flushed cheeks and swollen lips, hand in hand with her husband, and all but sprinted into their bedroom. He kicked the door closed and hoisted her back into his arms, burying his fingers in her hair, and kissed her deeply, his tongue stroking perfectly against hers.

With a low moan, he broke the kiss, pulling away to rest his tattooed hand against her face. "I love you so much, Fireheart." Instead of burning, desperate need, there was quiet tenderness in his voice.

Aelin wrapped her hands around Rowan's wrist and pressed her forehead to his, tears springing to her eyes. "I love you more," she breathed. "Rowan--"

"So much," he repeated, holding her watery gaze with the emerald depths of his eyes. "To whatever end."

"Don't say that," she choked out, placing her hands flat against his cheekbones. "Godsdammit, Ro, it wasn't supposed to go like this!"

"I know." He pressed her close against his chest, and she inhaled the scent of winter breezes and pine forests, the scent of him. "From now until the darkness finds us, yeah?"

She traced the ink flowing down the side of his face with trembling fingers. "Don't you dare."

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you," she murmured thickly. "To whatever end, my love." He kissed her forehead, a tender brush of his soft lips, and his figure dissolved into mist in her arms.

And she jerked awake in the still, empty silence of her bedroom, tears pouring silently down her cheeks. If the godsdamned illness that had yanked her husband from her arms were a tangible thing, she'd be figuring out the best way to murder it. But even she couldn't make an illness vanish, so she just wrapped her arms around Rowan's pillow, buried her face in the scent of him that still clung to the cotton, and drifted back to sleep with her heart bleeding once again.

"Your Majesty." The doctor stood and bowed from her waist as Aelin walked into her office.

"Please, there's no need for all of that." Aelin dropped into the comfortable ivory leather wingback chair opposite the doctor. "I'm here for...I assume you know why I'm here."

"Indeed." The doctor settled into her seat and laid a file folder of notes on the desk. "My name is Dr. Yrene Towers, and I've been working in the women's health field for eleven years." She glanced at Aelin's charts. "So you're here to consult about IVF?"

"I am." Aelin laid her hands flat on the expensive mahogany desk to stop them from trembling. "There's no need to go into the reasons why, unless you're required to ask."

"That's not a requirement, no." Dr. Towers pulled a few pages out from the file and picked up a pen. "We need to discuss your medical history, your fertility and cycle history, and the actual IVF process." She cleared her throat. "Your--ah, Aelin, when was your last menstrual period?"

Aelin pulled out her phone and opened her period tracker app. "April 6th to 11th."

Dr. Towers noted down the dates. "That was nearly three months ago."

"I have a history of infrequent cycles," Aelin explained. "It's nothing new for me to go two, three, or even four months without a period."

"I see." The doctor scribbled down a few notes. "As part of the preliminary material, I am required to ask if you were trying to conceive, and for how long you've been trying." Her warm brown eyes met Aelin's, and she offered a soft, sympathetic smile. "It's alright if you need some time to answer."

Aelin closed her eyes. Yes, she and Rowan had been trying, without success, to conceive. For months, if not a year. Every month that passed without any signs, every negative test, every tear she'd shed over her body's refusal to cooperate--every memory cut deeper with Rowan...gone. "Yes." She bit her lower lip. "We were...trying."

Dr. Towers nodded. "Do you remember how long?" she asked, gently.

"A little over a year," Aelin murmured. "Since last winter."

The doctor made a small noise of agreement. "Alright. Well, the next step in our consultation is for you to take a pregnancy test, simply to confirm that you aren't pregnant so we can proceed with IVF medication and treatment." Aelin nodded. Dr. Towers gestured to a door near the back of her office. "There's a private bathroom back there where you can take the test, it's all set up."

"Thank you." Quietly, Aelin rose and walked into the bathroom, closed and locked the door behind herself, and found a digital pregnancy test and a small glass cup on the counter. With practiced motions, she took the test, capped it, and washed her hands as she waited for the small plastic stick to load its results. She exited the bathroom with the test still undeveloped and passed it to the doctor. "I...I don't think I can look at it," she admitted.

Dr. Towers laid the test in front of her notes. "That's alright," she said, reassuring the queen. "I'll watch it for you, and--oh!" Her gaze snapped to the test, dark eyes widening in shock.

Aelin's brows scrunched together. "Is everything alright, Doctor?"

"I...you..." Dr. Towers cleared her throat. "Your Majesty," she whispered, sliding the test across the desk, "it's positive."

Pregnant, declared the little gray screen. 3+.

Aelin's heart leapt into her throat. "Are...no, no, that can't be right." She refused to let the bright flash of hope get ahold of her tumultuous emotions. "Can you confirm that, Doctor?"

Dr. Towers nodded. "I can order a urine and a blood test, if that's what you would want."

"Yes." Aelin's response was whip-quick. "Yes, I want that."

"Alright, just a few minutes here." Dr. Towers opened her laptop and typed away for a few minutes. "Okay, Aelin. If you'll come with me, I'll get you to an exam room, and we can get those tests started."

Wordlessly, Aelin collected her small purse and followed Dr. Towers out of her office and down a wood-paneled, softly lit hallway into the clinic and down a pastel yellow hallway to a tidy exam room. "Thank you," she murmured as the doctor led her into the room."

"Of course." Dr. Towers patted Aelin's shoulder kindly. "I'll send in a nurse with the equipment in a minute or two."

Aelin sat down on the paper-covered bed and twisted her wedding ring around her left ring finger. She hadn't removed it--she flatly refused to remove it. No matter what anyone else tried to say, she had sworn vows to one man and one man alone, and she would keep the ring of those vows on her finger until the day she joined her husband in the afterlife.

There was a polite double knock on the door and a young female nurse in bright blue scrubs entered the exam room. "Hi," she said in a quivering, small voice. Her big blue eyes were huge with awe and a little bit of fear.

"Hi," Aelin murmured, cracking a soft smile at the young nurse's trepidation. "There's no need to be afraid, Miss...I'm sorry, I can't read your nametag from over here."

"N-no problem, Your Majesty." The nurse scurried over towards Aelin. "I'm Evangeline, Your Majesty."

"Lovely to meet you, Evangeline, and please, just call me Aelin. Right now, I'm just another one of your patients, okay?"

"O-o-okay." Evangeline agreed. She flashed a bright smile and snapped on a pair of blue latex gloves. "So, Dr. Towers ordered a blood test and a urine sample to confirm or reject pregnancy, yes?" She seemed so much more confident when she was speaking about the medical orders.

"That's right." Aelin twisted her wedding ring around her finger, her thumb rubbing against the square emerald. "I took a digital test and I don't believe that it's positive."

"Mhmm, that's pretty typical," Evangeline agreed. "I have to ask--is it alright for me to draw your blood?"

"Yes." Aelin laid her arm on the padded armrest and made a fist at the young nurse's directions. Swiftly, Evangeline found a vein and took a small blood sample, then placed a gauze pad and a bandage over the draw site. "That wasn't so bad."

Evangeline chuckled. "It's a lot different than injections, for sure." She labeled the small vial, took off her gloves, washed up, and handed Aelin a small plastic cup. "There's a bathroom just outside this room. In that bathroom, there's a sample collection door. Go ahead and do the urine sample, and place the cup in the collection door when you're done. You can come back here when you're finished, and I'll walk you back to Dr. Towers's office."

"Thank you." Aelin smiled at the young nurse. "Not that I know anything about nursing, but you're a wonderful nurse." She headed into the bathroom, took care of the sample, and let Evangeline lead her back to Dr. Towers's office when she was done.

Dr. Towers let her in. "It might be a couple of hours before your results come back in, just so you know."

Aelin sighed. "That's okay. Do you need me to leave? I can go home if you need me to go."

"No need," Dr. Towers interjected. "You're welcome to stay here while you wait. I do have patients to see, but you're welcome to stay in my office."

Gratefully, Aelin settled into the comfortable armchair, tucked her head to the side, and was asleep before she knew it. Some time later, she was gently awakened by the doctor's soft voice and gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Aelin? It's Dr. Towers. How was your nap."

"Too good," Aelin mumbled, slowly coming to coherence. She blinked, rubbing her eyes. "How long was I out?"

"A little more than two hours." Dr. Towers sat down at her desk and placed a few papers on top of the smooth wood. "Long enough for your labs to come back." She met Aelin's eyes, her gaze steady and professional. "Aelin, both the blood and urine tests came back positive. You're pregnant."

You're pregnant.

"Alone."

Dr. Towers blinked. "Hmm?"

"I'm pregnant alone," Aelin whispered, tears clouding her eyes as she processed the news. "I'm pregnant, and he--my--Rowan." The last word was a choked sob. "And Rowan will never know our child," she croaked, dissolving into muffled sobs.

The doctor slid her a stack of tissues and laid her soft brown hands atop Aelin's trembling ones. "I know it's a hell of a lot to take in."

Aelin sniffled. "Should my doctor really be swearing?"

"Fits the situation." Dr. Towers squeezed Aelin's hands. "Aelin, I'm legally required to ask this next question: do you want this pregnancy?"

"Yes," Aelin breathed. "I don't fully believe it yet, but yes. Absolutely."

"Wonderful." Dr. Towers beamed. "I'm going to refer you to an imaging clinic for an ultrasound, okay? We'll want to schedule that as soon as possible to find out how far along you are."

"Okay." Aelin's voice was small and unsteady. "Doctor?"

"Yes?"

"Do I...how..." Aelin linked her fingers together, rooting herself in the feeling of her wedding ring pressing into he skin. "How am I supposed to go through this alone?" she whispered, anguish coating her question.

Dr. Towers's expression went soft, caring. "If you need professional assistance, I can refer you to one of my colleagues. If you're asking about a support system, let me remind you that you have your close circle of people to rely on. Let them help you, Aelin." She held the queen's shaky hands. "Let them help you."

Buzzard,

It's been seven and a half weeks. I still see you everywhere, in every little thing from my dreams to my nightmares. There will never be a part of me that doesn't miss you. Never.

I'm ten weeks and four days pregnant, Rowan. I just found out. Believe me, I'm as stunned as you probably are, wherever you are. It was...it wasn't what we were expecting, and I'm torn between the urge to scream at you for leaving me before we knew and the urge to imagine everything you'd be saying and doing right now. Yes, that's a tear on the page--gods burn me, I'm crying, I can't help it.

I don't know if I can do this alone, my love. I don't know how I'm going to bring our child into the world knowing that you won't be there to hold them. I don't know how I'm going to make it through the next seven months without you fussing over every damn step I take. I miss you so fucking much.

I swear to you, my Rowan, my buzzard, that our child will grow up knowing how incredible you are and how much you love our little family, even from where you are.

To whatever end, my heart.

Aelin

Tears splashed onto the stationery as Aelin signed her name and tossed her pen to the side. She traced the letters of Rowan's name with trembling fingertips, breathing the syllables quietly, almost like a prayer. Reaching for a tissue, she blotted her eyes, then folded the note in half, pressed a kiss onto the paper, and placed it in the simple wooden box of letters she'd written to her husband every day since he passed. She held the box in her lap, idly running her fingers over the initials etched into the smooth, pale wood, closed her eyes, and let the tears drip silently down her cheeks.

Why did you leave me, buzzard?

Deep in her heart, she felt a faint stirring, a faraway echo of her husband's presence. I'm right here, Fireheart.

A muted sob hitched her chest. I need you. She flattened her free hand against her belly, atop the tiny baby growing inside of her. We need you.

I'm right here. It was no more than a whisper in her mind, a flicker of reassurance from a voice that would never speak again.

Aelin closed her eyes, searching for that faint echo, and drifted into sleep, her tumultuous emotions quieting as she slept. In her dream, she walked into the forest, her shoes near-silent atop the soft spring moss. She followed a familiar, well-worn path through the ancient oaks and pines until she came to a clearing beside a stream, an idyllic spot where she and Rowan often hid away for a night or two.

And there was Rowan, sitting beside the stream, his tan skin vibrant with health and his bright pine eyes alight with joy.

Stifling a sob, she sprinted across the clearing and threw herself into his strong, steady arms, burying her face into his solid, warm chest. "Rowan," she gasped, clinging to his dream body. "You--"

"I'm here now," he promised, quieting her questions with a kiss. "I'll always be here."

"I'm dreaming," Aelin whispered, her heart shivering with the knowledge.

"I know." Rowan trailed his fingers through her hair. "And I'm here, and you're here, and if you want this to be real for a little while, then it's real for a little while."

"I love you," she murmured.

He kissed her gently. "I love you too."

She wiped tears from her cheeks. "I'm pregnant, Rowan."

"We..." She guided his hand down onto her stomach, and he exhaled shakily, tears clouding his eyes. "We're having a baby?" She nodded. "I'd give anything to be with you, Ae."

"I know." His dream-form started to fade as she began to wake up, and she clung to his hands. "Every damn day, I need you here."

"I'm always here," he whispered. He kissed her forehead. "Right here." His thumb brushed over her heart. "Right here. To whatever end."

Seven Months Later

Utterly exhausted, Aelin lay back against the heap of pillows piled onto the bed and cradled her newborn daughter to her chest, gazing down into the tiny baby girl's big, sleepy green eyes. The bustle of the nurses and doctors in the room faded into background noise as she held her daughter, beaming and crying all at once.

"Hi, baby girl," she whispered, her voice a hesitant, croaky rasp. "I love you so much."

The baby wriggled a bit and curled closer into her mother's skin, as if she could sense Aelin's overpowering emotions.

"Majesty?" The nurse's voice broke into Aelin's little bubble. "So sorry to disturb you, Your Majesty, but have you chosen a name?"

"Yes," Aelin murmured, smiling brighter as her daughter's tiny fingers clutched her thumb. "Yes, I have." She kissed her baby's delicate little forehead. "Everyone, meet Princess Sana Whitethorn Galathynius." The name Rowan had chosen all those months ago.

And she was perfect. Half him, half her, completely perfect and completely loved, both from the earth and the afterlife.

~~~

not tagged bc tags AREN'T FREAKIN WORKING so reblogs/comments/shares are most appreciated :)

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