pretzel-day

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Pretzel Week. Day 4: Fake Dating Trope in a Shapeshifters AU 

Fake the mate.

In a desperate attempt to have her pack out of her back regarding her unmated status, Emma Swan found the most unexpected ally in Killian Jones, beta from the rival pack.

It wasn’t unknown that after the death of his mate, Killian held no interest in ever finding another mate.

But when he found Emma tipping the scales into a dangerous situation by getting drunk on a bar that belonged to their territory, and before Liam jumped into yet another chance at a pissing contest with David, Killian bought her a shot of whiskey - or five -  and listened to her predicament.

It wasn’t hard to fake interest in Emma, she was one of the most fierce and beautiful women he’d seen in his life and the way she could talk back at everyone - including him, a beta from a rival pack or her own Alpha - surely was something else. He quite enjoyed it, especially when she was yelling at David - or Liam.

For all the tough exterior the Brother Jones pack had as reputation, Killian Jones could be as adorable as a puppy when he set his mind to it and the way he’d played the puppy dog eyes in front of her pack had been absolutely perfect.

They couldn’t fool the wolves’ senses, but they could definitely fool both David and Liam into the fact that they were willingly choosing each other as mates, all natural laws be damned. It wasn’t common, but there had been exceptions, especially when one partner had already lost a mate.

The ruse had worked perfectly for a while, until the day her gaze started to linger on his, or his hand would remain at her lower back for a moment more than was visible needed in front of the rest. It was - and it wasn’t - a surprise when they found themselves holding hands in private, with no one looking.

Her eyes bore into his and when she leaned in to kiss him, he met her halfway.

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Pretzel Week. Day 5: Forced Partners Trope in Sci-Fi AU

When the future of the Rebellion lies in the hands of Prince Killian, he’d have to do anything to ensure its success. Even if it meant working with the stuck-up, half-witted, nerf herder smuggler that went by the name of Emma Swan. She didn’t seem to be so keen on working with him either, but money was money and Prince Killian had it - or so she thought in the beginning.

It wasn’t long before they stopped fighting against each other and he had started to pin her against the nearest wall.

But that is a different story :P

A Touch of Iron [1/1]

Fantasy Pretzel Week: Day Seven: Prompt: Any Modern Trope in a Nymph/Fae/Elves AU.

I went with fake dating/green card marriage! Thank you so much @seastarved for arranging this week, I’ve had a blast! This one’s T, 2,911 words, and open to more if you enjoy folks, so do let me know :D.

It’s an accident of course, these things always are.

She knew she should be home before the sun touched the horizon - every child of the forest knew that - but she’d been distracted, another argument about suitors with her grandmother still buzzing through her head as the dew rose around her feet, the swish of her practice sword through the long grass covering the sound of the flutes until she was almost upon them.

And now it’s too late.

They surround her, the invisible boundary she’d dared to cross shimmering behind them as they circle her with huge, overbright eyes, thin lips drawn back to show off their needle-like teeth.

“Well, well, well,” titters the closet creature, his voice pure as bells even though villainy is written in every scale of his skin. “Whatever do we have here, dearie?”

“Princess Emma of the Enchanted Forest,” she snaps, her shoulders back and her chin held high as she fights to keep the tremble out of her voice. “I demand release!”

The fae laugh, a sound like shattering glass, and creep closer. Some of the smaller ones begin to tug at the edges of her cloak, at the ends of her hair. The one who’d spoken smiles like a crocodile and runs a long, thin finger over her cheek.

“But you interrupted our dance, dear princess! And you know what happens to girls who dance with the fairies, don’t you?”

She juts her chin out further and says nothing. The fairy pouts, the setting sun making his skin glimmer.

“If we like you,” he says. “We keep you.”

“And if we don’t!” cry the smaller ones, taking each other’s hands and spinning around them both until she’s dizzy with watching them, their bodies fading into a swirl of pink and green and gold. “And if we don’t!”

The male smiles again takes her face in his bony hands and breathes magic over her skin.

“We don’t.”

And the world falls away.

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Escape from Fairy Land

Written for @seastarved’s Fantasy Pretzel Week Day 7, Feb 26: Any Modern Trope in a Elves/Fae/Nymph AU
Again, thanks to @mahstatins and @ofshipsandswans for flailing at me about this one :)

“Killian, what the actual fuck?” Emma’s panting, her eyes wide in distress, her hair tangled and her clothes torn. “What - what happened tonight?”

Killian studies the floor, he knows she’s had a hell of a night already and maybe if he just doesn’t answer her he can avoid making it a little bit worse.

“Killian. Killian!” She grabs his lapels and shakes him a little. He should’ve known that wouldn’t work: she’s as stubborn as they come. Nothing can deter her when she wants something - it’s what makes her such an excellent bailbonds person -

“Jesus fucking Christ! Talk to me now if you ever want to see me again.”

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