#She's miserable and canon compliant (mostly) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

harleyquilt · 7 months ago

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Touken age gap hc (Kingneki × tg!Touka)

Notes: Touka is 18 in this scenario. This is also an au of sorts, with some details being canon compliant, and others going off-canon. Main focus here is to make a scenario for the ship, so don't sweat the small stuff. Been a while since I've seen this hc so I thought I'd feed myself.

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Touka meets Kaneki after he proclaims himself the One-Eyed King and is introduced to him through Yomo. She's unimpressed, seeing how miserable he looks – his face gaunt, his body much smaller compared to other ghouls, and more concerningly, there is a distinct hollowness in his eyes. It is an emptiness that Touka decides is unfitting for the leader of ghoulkind, a title Touka immediately thought was obnoxious.

That is until she sees him in combat. She joins Yomo, who joins Kaneki, in fending off some CCG investigators in the city, and it is then that she sees him unleash his kagune. The dense, dark tendrils slay the investigators with ease, blocking attacks and lashing back with twice the power of any regular rinkaku. Distracted, she's almost shot by a hidden Dove, but Kaneki, catching sight of him, shoves Touka out of the way and blocks the attack. Touka shakes away her surprise and shoots a finishing blow, killing the investigator. Kaneki thanks her and moves on, and Touka finds herself looking at him for a little too long…

A few days later, she's making coffee for Yomo, but when she enters his room, she sees that Kaneki is also there, discussing logistics. She gives Yomo his coffee and just as she turns to leave, Kaneki calls her name and praises her for her work in battle. She tries to come off as uninterested, but her heart flutters still. Something about his smile feels incredibly sincere to her…

The next day, she makes coffee for Kaneki. She struggles to suppress her immense embarrassment when she offers him the cup, insisting that she made this because he took a blow for her. He's touched, truly, and again, his smiles leaves her feeling warm and giddy. She curses under her breath and storms out, much to Kaneki's confusion.

They start to talk more – not often, with how busy Kaneki is, but whenever they come across one another, they chat briefly. Every now and again, she even makes him coffee, and it seems to surprise him every time. Touka, meanwhile, tries to convince herself that she is merely being polite, that he's too soft with all of his subordinates, that she doesn't see him as anything more than a wannabe-leader…

One day, Kaneki and the others ready themselves to head out, having heard some alarming intel. Touka begins to prepare herself too, but, to her dismay, Kaneki orders her to stay. She demands a reason from him and Kaneki claims it's to keep her safe, telling her nothing more. Confused and angry, she follows them in secret, wanting to prove herself in some way. They must see her as weak, if they're keeping her in onr place. It's an insulting thought, one that spurs on her disobedience. Having followed behind, they eventually come across her brother, Ayato, being held hostage by Akira Mado. She's readying his, along with a few others, executions.

To keep things brief, Touka loses her cool and goes straight for the kill. As strong as she is, Akira has more experience, and is quick to strike Touka right in her abdomen. Kaneki and the others react swiftly, reaching Touka and holding off Akira and her team long enough to retrieve the Kirishima siblings and the other hostages. There are minimal losses. Touka is mostly ok, but with the food shortage, her healing is slow and painful.

She's tended to by Yomo and Banjou, though she still needs time and rest to heal fully. Ayato, in the midst of the battle, is also wounded, and as much as it pains her, they'll have to wait a little longer for their reunion. Kaneki decides to visit once the others leave, entering her room with an apologetic expression. Touka stops him, telling him Yomo has already scolded her enough, and Kaneki sits by her bed, assuring her that it is his responsibility to keep her safe. She mutters that she doesn't need him to stay safe, and Kaneki is quiet for a moment, his eyes downcast.

He then asks to see her wound. She's taken aback, at first, but eventually nods, pulling her shirt away from her bandaged stomach. Avoiding his eyes, she can't tell what expression he's making, but she does feel his fingers lightly touch the edge of the bandage – now red with blood. Now watching him, she can see that he looks pained, unusually so. He apologises again, confessing that, for a moment, he was worried that he was too late. She's confused, and without thinking, she scoffs and asks why he would care. Concerned, he meets her eyes, placing a hand over hers. He then tells her "I'd be sad if you died, Touka-chan." It's a simple, innocent statement, yet it reduces her to a squirmish mess. She pulls her hand away and thanks him, Kaneki leaving soon after reminding her to rely on him if she needs anything.

And that's when Touka begins to wonder…does she have feelings for him?

#tokyo ghoul #touken #kanetou #touka kirishima #kaneki ken #my writing #headcanon #age gap au

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edai-crplpnk · 5 months ago

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Hi, it’s me, the tagging menace. Please tell me more about this unnamed ShikaYoshi fic 👀

[link to the WIP game]

I wrote a chapter two years and a half ago and haven't touched it since then, but I fully intend on getting there eventually. I want to say it's my 2025 project but I already said that about the Shinki adoption fic lmao.

It's for my canon compliant/worldbuilding series. It's set during the year after the 3th War and follows Shikaku and Yoshino as they reunite, get together, and at least settle that they're going to have a child together. I'm not holly sure yet when it ends, if it's then or if maybe it continues until Shikamaru's birth? Unclear for now. But it's mostly a getting together fic.

Some facts:

ANBU Yoshino at the start

Chronically Ill Yoshino (hence why forecfully retired Yoshino for most of the fic, and she hates it thouroughly)

Yoshino having strong feelings about misogyny and ging to great length to substract herself from her abusice upbringing and the general expectation of society placed on her because she's a woman

Probably Shikaku shutting up so misogynistic jerk (his dad) too

Past Shikaku/Inoichi that Shikaku is majorly not over with while Inoichi is getting married to Ino's mother

Chouza being the unwilling witness and but friendly support of trainwreck Shikaku

Some clan politics

Ex-ANBU Shikaku

Yoshino bonding with Shikaku's lesbian aunt over shitty dads

Yoshino and Shikaku do beat each other up a little but it goes them some good

Yoshino keeps mocking him but alas he has a humiliation kink I fear

"I'll be honnest with you. I have to marry this year and get myself an heir. You can say no, but if you do, please say it now cause I'm gonna have to find someone else." "You don't sell it well." "Because I'm not trying to sell it. I respect you to much to lie to you. We both know this wouldn't be either of us' first choice, but this is what I have to offer, do you want it?"

It's angsty and badass and romantic and I will write it I promise.

As a bonus I offer ANBU Yoshino + tiny Kakashi snippet:

“The Fourth is calling for you.” Great. Precisely when she was starting to let herself anticipate the moment she would finally go back to the barracks and pass out for a while. “Why?” The man shrugs, evidently unbothered by the bite in her tone – rightfully so, it’s not really directed at him anyway. She can’t say she expected him to be either, it’s hard to find someone impressed by anything around here. Newbies at first, sure, but they all either grow a thicker skin quite quickly, or leave. (Or die.) As if on cue, the frail silhouette in the locker room on the other side of the corridor raises its porcelain mask towards them. It looks ridiculously oversized, even cut down to try and fit the tiny head behind it. Out of duty and in a building field with grown men chiselled for murder, he looks miserably young and small – which he is, more so even than when she joined the faction herself – yet he doesn’t look intimidated in the slightest, just curious sometimes, and, from what she’s heard, he’s been living up to his Cold-Blooded nickname for the few months he’s been here. He’ll go far. Or he’ll crash soon, she’s not certain yet. “Got a problem Fox?”

#shikayoshi #shikaku nara #yohsino nara #my fic #kakashi hatake #snippet #ask edai

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malkavi-ann · 5 months ago

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When the Truth Hurts. Chapter 4

Elden Ring: Shadow of the Erdtree fanfiction

Rating: Mature (May change in the future)

Relationship: F/M

Pairing: Messmer the Impaler/Original Female Character

Tags: Self-Loathing, Reference to Depression, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Messmer is bad at feelings, Mommy Issues, Abandonment Issues, Mostly Canon Compliant, Canon Divergence, Tarnished never arrives to the Land of Shadow, Friendship/Love

Link to Ao3

Chapter 4: The Shadow Keep

Meanwhile, Messmer’s men were waiting for his liege to return outside. Some of them were having an idle chat, while others were watching the door closely, and Commander Gaius was one of them. Truth be told, he was concerned about Messmer’s well-being. They had known each other since they were serving the Golden Order in the Lands Between. Both of them suffered from afflictions that made their life miserable, and perhaps because of that their bond grew stronger as the years passed. When Marika ordered Messmer to wage war on the Hornsent, he personally appointed Gaius to lead his army into the Land of Shadow. All these years they fought their enemy side by side. When they weren’t fighting, Messmer would confide in Gaius about his fears and feelings related to his mother’s absence. Therefore, the albinauric warrior knew very well how deeply Messmer was concerned about this mysterious woman who could be Marika’s imposter.

Gaius’ thoughts got interrupted by a loud rumbling “oink” that came from his mount, a giant boar which he gently called his other half. “What’s that, Penelope? Have you grown tired already, my dear?”, he playfully asked his beloved animal. Penelope shook her head and grunted, expressing her disagreement mixed with concern. “Now, now, no need to fuss over me. I’m just a wee bit worried about my dear friend. But I’m sure he will be alright. He has been through a lot, but he’s a strong man.” The boar got quiet for a moment and then grunted softly as if she was trying to reassure her companion. “Ah, I do appreciate your concern, my dear.”, Gaius said as he patted his loyal mount on the back of her head. Penelope squealed with delight and finally calmed down.

The sun slowly started to set when two figures finally emerged from the hut. Messmer’s men sighed with relief when they saw their leader appear unharmed, but their demeanor changed drastically when their eyes fell on the female figure following Messmer. Many soldiers and knights in Messmer’s army were Marika’s followers who worshiped her with fervor. And so they were also hoping for their Queen’s return; however, nothing could have prepared them for what they saw: a visage resembling Marika but plagued with a mark of their sworn enemy. Morgana could feel all those looks filled with disgust pointed towards her and it made her skin crawl. She wondered what exactly about her presence had made these people so deeply upset. Messmer also took notice of how the attitude of his soldiers had changed once they saw Morgana. He stepped in front of her, his figure hiding her from the silent hostility.

“We shall take this woman to the Shadow Keep for further interrogation. No harm shall be inflicted upon her.”, Messmer announced. His men exchanged puzzled looks as they couldn’t understand why they should spare this imposter from death. Nevertheless, Messmer’s orders were not to be argued with, so they had to obey.

Messmer turned to Morgana, “You said you could awaken my soldiers from their slumber”. She nodded, “As long as they are moved away from the blood fiends, yes. Otherwise, the soldiers might attack them again once they’re awake”.

“Fair enough”, Messmer said. He ordered his men to move the sleeping bodies of the scouts away from the blood fiends. Once they were at a safe distance from the shack, Morgana closed her eyes and whispered an incantation. In an instance, the sleeping soldiers started to wake up, yawning as they were getting up from the ground. After they finally came to their senses, the envoy was finally ready to return to the Shadow Keep.

The journey back to the Shadow Keep was quite uneventful and mostly silent. Every now and then some soldiers would quickly look over the horned woman and exchange hushed murmurs of disapproval. It was getting dark when they finally reached the gates of the keep. One of the Fire Knights approached Messmer and Gaius, “My lord, where should we take the…uh…prisoner?”. For a moment, Messmer considered the options: there wasn’t a functioning prison in the keep as his army didn’t tend to keep captured Hornsent alive for too long. He was trying to remember if there were any spare rooms where Morgana could be kept under lock when Commander Gaius chimed in. “We could take her to one of the prayer rooms in the church district and put a couple of guards at the door to make sure she doesn’t escape.”

Messmer nodded, “That sounds reasonable. Thank you for your suggestion, Commander”. He then turned to the knight, “Take her to the prayer room and arrange guarding shifts. Keep an eye on her day and night.” The Fire Knight bowed slightly before heading towards Morgana, who was surrounded by the foot soldiers. Messmer and Gaius heard him give orders to the soldiers and after that, they took Morgana away.

”Well, that was certainly an unusual encounter”, Gaius said.

“Indeed. Out of all possibilities, I didn’t expect this to happen.” Messmer remarked.

“What exactly happened in that shack? And why in the name of the Erdtree did you decide to bring this woman here?”, asked Gaius.

”Let us speak in private. I do not wish anyone to overhear us. Come with me, my friend.” Messmer turned around and headed towards his chamber while Gaius followed behind him. After taking a brisk walk through the keep, they entered the Dark Chamber. The room greeted them with silence and complete darkness. Messmer made a slight gesture with his left hand and the candles around the room lit up with his flame.

“I was worried about you, Messmer”, Gaius began. “I know that your mother means a lot to you, but I still cannot comprehend why you kept that woman alive. She looks like a Hornsent.”

”Oh, believe me, my friend, I did want to kill her on the spot once I saw those wretched horns. To distort my mother’s visage like that? Such a blasphemy. And yet I couldn’t do it. Despite the horns, that woman reminds me so much of her. It’s like she’s back here with me.”, Messmer said.

”I see. Can’t say I blame you for that.”, his albinauric friend was always incredibly understanding, and this time was no exception. “In any case, my other question still stands: why did we bring her here?”

”She mentioned that she comes from the Lands Between, so I reckoned she might know something of the current state of affairs there. And perhaps she may have information about my mother too as she said she used to live at a palace.”, Messmer replied, his words filled with desperate hope.

”That is rather curious. But couldn’t you get that information from her when we were at the hut?”, Gaius questioned his friend further.

“The woman has lost her memories so she couldn’t give me any details about her life in the Lands Between. So, I thought that maybe with time she could regain her memories, and then we could interrogate her.” When Messmer was trying to explain his reasoning, he could feel that Gaius was hesitant to accept his explanation.

“Hmm, I suppose that could be possible. But what if her memory doesn’t come back? What are we to do then?”. It was clear that Gaius had doubts about this plan, and quite frankly, Messmer was also unsure if it was possible.

“In that case, we’ll get rid of her.”

Gaius nodded in response, seemingly satisfied with Messmer’s reply. “Is there anything else we should know about her?”, came another question.

Messmer hesitated for a few seconds: he needed to consider what information he could share even with his friend. Though they’d been close friends for a long time and they trusted each other deeply, Messmer was still afraid that Gaius would think less of him for his true intentions.

”Her name is Morgana, and she’s been afflicted by the Omen curse since she was born. That’s why I mistook her for a Hornsent.”, he finally spoke.

”An Omen? From what I recall, Omen folk are much bigger and more violent than this woman.”, Gaius remarked, and Messmer had to agree with his friend.

”Indeed, I found it hard to believe as well. However, since she comes from the Lands Between, and the Omen curse doesn’t exist in the realm of shadow, I’m inclined to trust her on that.”

The two men stayed silent for a while as both were processing the events of the day. Gauis looked at his friend intently: was there something Messmer was not telling him? While his reasons for keeping this woman alive had some validity, it seemed as if Messmer was trying really hard to convince Gaius that there was a legitimate need to bring her to the keep.

”My friend,” Gaius said gently, “if there’s something you wish to get off your chest, I’m always here to listen to you with an open mind. And I swear on my honor that everything we’ve discussed here shall remain a secret.”

Messmer smiled wearily, “Thank you, Gaius. Your support means a lot to me.”, he paused. “Now, if you excuse me, I wish to be alone for a while.”

“Of course, you must be exhausted, my friend. I shall leave you be. Rest well.” And with that, Gaius exited the Dark Chamber, leaving Messmer alone to ponder the events of the day.

Messmer turned his gaze towards the statue of Marika which was hidden in the shadows of the chamber. He still couldn’t believe that everything that had transpired earlier that day was real. Now that he was back in the Shadow Keep, it all felt like a distant dream. Yet, that woman was here, locked up in one of the prayer rooms of the keep. Messmer sighed heavily: now that he could think a bit more clearly, he realized how desperate and irrational his actions were. And, judging by his conversation with Gaius, his loyal friend remained doubtful about Messmer’s true reasons behind Morgana’s imprisonment.

Truth to be told, there was another reason why Messmer decided to bring her here. After seeing how much this woman looked like his mother, he simply couldn’t let her go. All these years he’d been yearning to see Marika once more. And when he looked at Morgana, he could almost see his mother right there in front of him. His common sense and rational thinking kept telling Messmer that he was wrong for hoping that this woman could somehow replace Marika’s presence in his life. Nevertheless, he chose to follow his heart. Was he really that desperate and weak? Just thinking about this situation made him despise himself even more.

”Pathetic.”, Messmer said out loud to himself. “You have always been pathetic, and you shall remain that way till your very end. Maybe you deserve to be abandoned by the one who you love most.”

He looked at his Mother’s stone visage once again. “O Mother, forgive me for my sins.”, he prayed silently. There was, of course, no reply, but Marika’s statue always watched over him with a smile. In his mind, Messmer preferred to believe that she would forgive him no matter what for her maternal love was unconditional.

* * *

Morgana was following the knight through the keep. She was surrounded by a couple of soldiers who kept a very close watch on her. Agreeing to come here was most certainly a mistake since everyone treated her like a dangerous prisoner. However, it was too late to regret her past actions. Besides, she didn’t have much choice to begin with. Maybe the man with the serpents was right, and her memory would come back to her with time. Or maybe it was all a ruse to get her captured.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the chatter between the guards. “We should take her through the Specimen Warehouse if we want to take a shortcut.”, one of the soldiers to her left said, addressing the knight in front of her. “I’m well aware of that. Now shut up and stick to your duty, soldier.”, the knight cut the guard off.

As they entered the Specimen Warehouse, Morgana was taken aback by how enormous this part of the keep was. There were multiple levels connected by stairs and elevators, and each of these levels contained hundreds of thousands of ancient tomes, scrolls, and stone inscriptions. Who knew what kind of knowledge and wisdom could be gained from perusing this collection? Morgana, who had been mostly looking at the floor on the way to her cell, started looking around the warehouse with excitement and curiosity. But the most astonishing thing about this place wasn’t its size or its extensive amount of books. It was the mummified specimen of animals and even people whose bodies were covered with horns. Their corpses were either suspended by the chains or displayed on large platforms around the library. The mere sight of these dead creatures was both breathtaking and terrifying. An eerie thought crawled into Morgana’s mind: would this be her fate if she didn’t regain her memories? Would she be murdered, mummified, and put on the display? Thinking about it made her sick to her stomach, and the sliver of hope that she’d had before began to wane. Disgusted by the morbid sights, she averted her gaze and tried to concentrate on the positives: she was still alive, and there was still a chance, though slim, for her to reach her goal.

Morgana was so consumed by her thoughts, that she didn’t notice that they’d reached a stone platform that took them to the lower levels of the keep. As they made their descent, the air changed drastically: the warm scent of parchment and leather of the books was replaced by a stale odor of something cold and damp. When the platform came to a halt, Morgana realized why it smelled so putrid: this level of the keep was surrounded by murky water.

“Thank Marika, we’re almost there.”, one of the soldiers murmured, avoiding being heard by his superior. “Can’t wait to bugger off and get some bloody rest”. The guards were obviously not happy with their duties. But it seemed that the knight didn’t hear - or pretended to not hear - the soldier’s rumblings. Soon enough they reached a wooden door tucked away in the corner of the building they were in. The knight opened the door and gestured for Morgana to enter the room. “Get in.”, he ordered sharply. Morgana obeyed silently and walked into a dimly lit prayer room. The door behind her slammed shut, and she heard the sound of keys rattling in the keyhole. She was now locked in a room that had no windows except for a tiny opening in the door with iron bars that separated her from the rest of the world. In a moment the rattling stopped, and Morgana could hear the sound of footsteps that grew fainter and fainter as the knight with the soldiers were making their exit from the building.

Morgana looked around the room, which was now her prison. There were a few benches and a couple of chairs that faced an altar adjacent to the back wall. As there were no windows, the only source of light was candles placed on the wooden holders. Most of them were almost completely gone, sitting in the solidified puddle of wax, while some were still giving off feeble light. It seemed as if this room wasn’t frequented by the keep dwellers and therefore was as solitary as its only occupant.

Morgana wanted to consider her next steps, but she was too exhausted to even think. There was no sign of a bed, and the chairs were too small for her. “Looks like sleeping on the floor is my only option. Good thing I’ve already gotten used to it”, she said to herself. She took off the cloak and threw it on the cold stone floor to make it slightly less comfortable to sleep on. When Morgana finally lay down, she whispered a quick prayer to the Formless Mother. Even though her sacred seal had been taken away, saying a prayer brought her a sense of comfort. Feeling slightly better, Morgana closed her eyes and drifted into the world of dreams.

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Note: Hello dear readers! First of all, thank you for your patience! I know it's been a while since the last update. Unfortunately, I didn't have much time to work on this chapter the previous week due to some IRL stuff. I also felt a bit uninspired, so that sucked. Anyway, I feel like I'm getting a bit better at writing longer chapters. I also realized that I really enjoy describing the characters' interactions with their "pets". I think it shows their kinder side of personality well. Speaking of the pets, I couldn't find any info about Gaius' boar gender, so I just decided to make it female lol. Finally, thank you all so much for the likes, comments, and reposts. I really appreciate your support, and I hope you enjoy the new chapter <3 Until next time :)

#elden ring #elden ring messmer #fanfic #fantasy #messmer the impaler #original character #shadow of the erdtree #slow burn #angst #memory loss

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smittyw · 10 months ago

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i forgot my dailies so heres some of the au redesigns ive been up to 🚶‍➡️🏃‍➡️🤸 return of the funnies, new and improved!! moonstone, plume agate & tigers eye!!!

lots more lore i never dropped + fusions below the cut- but this post will get long hahaa

making the post pretty for you :-) ok?

their rundown is that plume and tiger crash land on earth and team up with an already stranded moony, hoping to get back with an impressive enough report to save them from trouble. when this starts to seem less and less of a possibility, they have to face their feelings about staying on earth, and whether itd be worth it to take desperate measures just to return to a status quo they were never cut out for to begin with. theyre more or less minor villains of the week who have their own rich inner lives completely offscreen so i can claim theyre canon compliant.

moony- got retconned to be a bit of a fool jingling miserably across the court, while blue diamond pondered whether this was a good enough use for a former espionage class of gem. shes busy mostly crying about other things tho. and moonstone is too. on the first pity mission away from home they decide to sit pretty and stall until blue forgets to ask for updates, maybe forever.

plume- leader of a squadron of tigers eyes grunts (theyre a scout class, expendable and fast close range idiots without the benefit of tankiness). she's outwardly very tough on them but hides a lot of fondness for only them to see. she also hides an independent streak that fuels her history buff posturing, and is getting dangerously close to acting on her fantasy of becoming the next rose quartz.

tiger- the weak link of the squadron whos had her ass saved plenty of times by plume before. to prove shes not dead weight, she throws herself at every problem expecting to fail a few times and break a few limbs before succeeding. shes grown neurotic & wary of attention, and is liable to just go looney tunes at the slightest opportunity. if freedom calls she wont hesitate to scamper.

& hey! fusions as promised! helps to know what theyre working with dynamics-wise:

pietersite (piet)- shes very serene on the surface level while masked and doesnt speak, but underneath it kind of a terror...due to the constant dual internal monologue that gets broadcast telepathically from her out of sync brain...at least tiger doesnt mind it. theyre not very stable as a fusion due to an inherent mismatch in how their component gems communicate. it takes time before they get a handle on their combined strengths, so they dont form often.

unakite (una)- shes the worst and i love her, and she loves herself more (until she doesnt, at which point she combusts to avoid dealing with it, and both parties forget what happened). shes the manifestation of a long term work friendship & is therefore her own right hand man. her first inclination is to plot, then to destroy, then applaud herself for it. she has illusions of grandeur to become a permafusion due to her remarkable stability while formed, but has too much of a one track mind to last forever. still, shes around a lot when the situation calls for it.

chrysoprase (chryssie)- hes a delight but also sucks ass at being helpful in most situations that require more than chilling smiling and having fun. hes pretty stable but prone to long spells of isolation, and spends all his time on confusing hobbies that burn him out big time. plume finds them really frustrating and it takes her ages to stop wishing theyd just stay apart, after realizing their existence is like necessary therapy to the goobers involved.

p.s. all three gems use she/her initially as gems do, and plume continues to throughout. moony is very taken with human culture and later puts in a lot of effort to be like them, so he adopts their concept of gender and prefers he/they instead. tiger mirrors whatever she finds interesting and doesnt really care, so all her fusions default to the other party's preference

p.p.s, all the little refs in the corners of the fusion pics are outdated so pls ignore the discrepancies

i think ive said my piece for now.. if u made it this far, big thanks & feel free to take the mic, im trying to be less of a lore recluse !! this au does things to my brain.. id love to explain each of them and their little personal arcs in better detail soon, but plotty things can wait until i get the nerve to start doing comics again. CIAO!

#ocs #su au #steven universe #gem ocs #fusion design #molly #qamar #nat #overcoming my fear of posting lately. does anyone enjoy a lovingly crafted post #im so obsessed w this trio rn i figured itd be fun to just get completely sidetracked 100x over and think of them as anything i want #enjoy !!! ??

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bambiiboop · 2 years ago

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Unconditionally: Joel Miller x OC (Part 3/10)

Summary: Lucy loves Joel Miller unconditionally. A cross country trip to escort an immune, bad mouthed teenager to safety might just prove it.

CWs: canon typical violence / unsafe sex / age gap / language / spoilers (if anyone cares) / canon divergence / mentions of attempted sexual assault / themes of previous suicidal tendencies

Note: this work is intended for adult audiences only. It is not strictly canon compliant, and was originally posted to A03 when I first ventured into the fandom.

Chapter Index: 1 / 2 /

The day was mostly uneventful; whilst that was good for their safety, it wasn’t good for their minds. It left too much time to think, to feel guilt and a sense of responsibility for what had happened.

“You should try and talk to her.” Joel said quietly, eyes on Ellie, who was striding a good six feet ahead of the adults.

“Me?” Lucy raised an eyebrow, “She’s more likely to talk to you, you know.”

“Yeah, but you know how I am… I’m not… good at that shit.” Joel rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly; he was remembering what he’d said to Ellie in Kansas, after she’d shot that youth trying to protect him.

“Okay… if it makes you feel better… I’ll try and talk to her.” Lucy agreed.

Surveying the area one last time, Lucy broke into a light jog to catch up with Ellie.

“You wanna slow down for us old folks?” She asked, trying to keep her tone light.

Ellie didn’t even crack a smile. Lucy sighed. She knew what grief looked like, but she wasn’t sure how to address it with such a strange, prickly kid like her. It was difficult; unlike Joel, she had never been a parent before. She had no idea how to connect with children, not really. The extent of it had been delivering medicine to sick kids and their families in the QZ, trying to cheer them up. That wasn’t to say she was bad with kids, she just… didn’t have the natural disposition that Joel had, buried deep down.

“Why couldn’t I help him?” Ellie asked, a mile or so up the road. Lucy had been keeping pace with her, letting Joel watch their backs. They’d been walking in silence, until now. She was surprised that Ellie had spoken at all, but now she had, she would try her best to comfort her.

“What do you mean?” Lucy couldn’t hide her confusion. Surely Ellie knew that once someone was bitten, once infected, there was no going back. Her condition was… possibly the only one in the world. For everyone else, it meant being shit out of luck, losing your mind, and a slow, miserable death.

“If I’m immune. Why didn’t my blood fix Sam? Isn’t it supposed to be medicine?”

It was in that moment that Lucy understood just how young Ellie still was. Just how much she had seen and suffered at such a young age. She stopped dead in her tracks.

“I don’t know, Ellie. Maybe it doesn’t work like that…”

“But why not?” Ellie persisted, “why doesn’t it work like that? It’s not… it’s not fair.”

The way she spoke, sounded as though she felt as though it was childish to finish on that note, but Lucy understood.

“I know,” Lucy said, “it isn’t fair, and you shouldn’t have had to deal with that. None of you should. You’re all too fucking young. So it’s okay to be angry, and upset. But it’s not your fault.”

“What if it is? I couldn’t help him.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s your fault. It just means we haven’t worked out what your immunity does. I doubt he’d hold it against you, Ellie. You tried. You tried and that’s what matters.” Lucy squeezed the younger girl on the shoulder; she wanted to hug the poor kid, but she was never good with physical contact.

“I guess so…” Ellie sighed, looked to the horizon. “Think we’re gonna stop somewhere tonight?”

“Yeah. We’re not walking through the night.” Lucy agreed; they were on the outskirts of a tiny town, a motel and a gas station about the only buildings standing.

Right on cue, Joel caught up with them; they’d slowed down a hell of a lot to talk before coming to a halt entirely.

“We’ll clear out that motel. Make camp overnight. We’ve walked enough today.”

——

There are bars on the window of the motel bedroom. Once again, one bedroom. The adults insisted Ellie take it, to give her some space and some privacy. God knows she needs it, give her time to process the loss of her friend.

Lucy dragged the blankets from the second bed in the room out to the main room, while Joel shoved a heavy cabinet in front of the door for extra security. Neither really thought anyone would be out this way, not in this tiny speck of a ghost town, but it would help them both sleep at night.

“Did you talk to her?” Joel asked, voice low, as they settled in for the night. They were secure enough that shoes could be taken off, thankfully.

“Yeah.” Lucy put her boots beside his, “she just needs some time.”

“Understandably.” Joel moved over so she could lay beside him; he was facing her, but not really seeing her.

Lucy sighed, sensing how shut off he was becoming; although he was reluctant to admit it, Joel had become fond of the two boys, and was taking their deaths as a personal failure.

“Hey.” She put her hand on his shoulder, squeezed gently, “are you alright?”

Joel frowned slightly, but didn’t pull away from her; he was trying to work out the words that he wanted. It was difficult, when he’d seen so much death, killed his fair share of people.

“It never gets easier, does it? Seeing kids die…” he said finally, still not looking at her, “I keep feeling like… I should have done more.”

Lucy shook her head, rubbing her hand along his arm. She hated seeing him blame himself, especially when she had firsthand witnessed him do everything in his power to protect the three young people in their charge.

“You did everything you could for those boys, Joel. Everything.”

What more could they have done? It’s impossible to keep everyone safe from the infected forever, especially in such a close combat situation with so many enemies on every side.

“I just hate not… keeping my word.” He wrapped his arms tightly around her; she could feel how tense he was, like a tightly wound coil that could explode at any moment.

Lucy understood; she knew how difficult it was for him to let anyone in. First her. Then Ellie. Then Henry and Sam. He had let the four of them in, only to lose two of them. At his core, Joel was a protective figure, a father who had never properly grieved the loss of his daughter. Losing two young men who could have become like sons to him… she understood how it could - and would - reopen old wounds.

“You kept your word,” she assured him softly, “we took care of them, right until the end.”

“I don’t want to lose anyone else,” he said finally, “not Ellie, and especially not you. I can’t take another loss.”

Lucy wasn’t sure he had ever been so blunt and open with her, not about something like this. Joel wasn’t big on talking about his feelings, she had long ago accepted that. Even though their relationship had significantly shifted since their night spent at Bill and Frank’s place, she never expected any grand declarations from him, never expected any big conversation about feelings. It caught her off guard.

“I can’t promise you won’t lose us,” she said finally, “that’s not the world we live in. But… I can say… that I’ll be fighting, constantly, to stay by your side. And I’ll help you protect her. That much I can promise, and I will.”

She felt some of the tension leave his body at her words, his arms tightly wrapped around her still, as though he was afraid she would turn to dust if he let go.

“I’m not going anywhere, Joel. I promise.”

He sighed, feeling a heavy sort of exhaustion fall over him, feeling, not for the first time, very old.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, darling.” He buried his face in her hair for a moment, inhaling the salt sweat floral smell of her, reminding himself that she was, indeed, still alive and with him.

“I have every intention of trying to keep it.” She assured him, rubbing her fingers up his back, settling them in his hair. He sighed, then tilted his head down to look at her.

“We’re alive, Joel,” she whispered, “I’m right here.”

Something snapped inside him, some sort of restraint, as he leaned down and claimed her mouth in a possessive, desperate kiss, rolling so she was pinned beneath him. All his rage, all his pain, he channeled it into the kiss. She let him, not at all surprised or unhappy. If he needed an outlet? She was more than happy to provide one.

The kiss was rough, hungry, like he was drowning and she was air, his hands firm on her waist, tongue demanding entrance to her mouth. Her lips parted for him, surrendering to the storm that was his rage.

“I’m not going anywhere.” She promised against his lips, her fingers finding the buttons of his flannel shirt.

“Nowhere.” He almost growled it, his hands sliding up her shirt, discarding it to the side, caressing bare skin, desperately seeking contact between them.

“I promise.” She pulled him into another kiss, pushing the fabric of his shirt from his shoulders, breaking their embrace only for a moment. It was risky, yes, but they were far too caught in the moment to care.

Unlike at Bill and Frank’s place, they had the room to themselves, could afford themselves some intimacy that wasn’t hasty, that wasn’t half clothed and silent.

She pulled his undershirt up, over his head, let him discard it in favour of running her hands up his chest, fingertips caressing every scar, every muscle. Honestly, for a man of his age, his body was still in its prime, and she knew it.

She kissed along his jaw, not remotely minding the scratch of his beard, down his throat, pausing when he made a low sound in his chest; the sound only encouraged her to do it again, to kiss the same place on his throat, her hands still caressing.

“I’m right here,” she breathed against his skin, feeling his hands at the button of her pants, her own going to his belt.

They had never been fully naked against one another before, she realised, as she kicked off her jeans and he pulled the top blanket over them, keeping them from any chill in the air. If she was a little younger, if he was anyone else, she might have felt shy. There was no awkwardness between them as he settled between her legs, pulling her into another kiss.

There was something warm and desperate in their kiss that hadn’t been there before; like he was letting her in past another wall he’d put up around himself. She wasn’t sure how long that would last, so she’d take it for now. Somewhere between their shirts and their pants being discarded, his rage had cooled significantly. He didn’t want to hurt her, didn’t want to take it out on her and make this uncomfortable or scare her.

It scared him a little, what he felt for her, but it was a good fear to have.

She could feel the firm heat of him pressing into her thigh; there was almost a smug satisfaction in knowing she had caused that, in knowing that he wanted her.

“What are you smiling about, hm?” There was a softness to his voice, a gentle amusement.

“Nothing, why did you stop?” She pouted at him.

“Wanted to know what was funny.”

“I’m just… glad you want this. Glad you want me.” She admitted.

“Nothing’s changed,” he pressed a kiss to her throat, “if anything… just reminded me how much I don’t wanna lose you.”

Lucy sighed, kissed his temple. “I don’t wanna lose you, either.”

Silence as he dragged her into another kiss, slow and drawn out, before he kissed her throat once more.

“Gonna take my time with you, baby girl, should’ve done that the first time.” His voice was low in her ear, a promise.

“We didn’t have time last time,” she said, “I won’t hold it against you.”

He smirked. “We have all night, now.”

She hummed agreement; he was right, of course. They did have all night, and she planned on making it worth his while. It sounded as though he had a similar idea.

Lucy wasn’t sure what to expect; last time, he had used his fingers on her, but she knew damn well she was ready for him already without him needing to. He knew that too, could feel her wetness between her thighs, feel it against his length whenever he teased her with it.

He hadn’t been exaggerating when he said he planned on taking his time with her, but that didn’t negate how eager he was, how much he needed to touch her, to feel that deeply shared intimacy that they had begun to form between them.

“Gonna go real slow, alright, darling?” His Texas accent got thicker the lower he spoke, she realised, somewhere in the back of her mind; it was hardly at the forefront of her thoughts when he was lifting one of her legs to wrap around his waist, lining himself up and then sinking into her, slowly, inch by delicious, perfect, torturous inch.

She let her head fall back against the blanket, the makeshift pillow, lips parted in a soft sigh.

“Gonna make me beg for it, huh?” She asked, a smile playing about her lips.

The ghost of a grin crossed his face.

“Considered it, but you feel too damn good to tease like that.”

He slid the remaining length of himself home as he spoke - home. That was how it felt, connecting their bodies together this way, feeling how soft and wet and tight she was, welcoming him back to her as though they’d been made for one another.

The sound she made when he filled her completely was closer to a whimper; every inch of him felt amazing, filling her so completely. He gave a slow, deliberately languid roll of his hips, drawing a definitive, quiet whimper from her.

“Oh? You like that?” He pressed a quick kiss to her lips.

Fuck, he’d wanted to take his time like this the last time. Hell, he’d wanted to take her to bed properly for months now, but there had never been the time, never been the privacy. Sure, the night they’d recently had had been great, but having a room to themselves? Where he could take his time drawing every sweet sound out of her? He was absolutely going to enjoy every moment of it.

“C’mon, baby girl, use your words.” The sounds he was getting from her were amazing, just from such shallow, lazy movements, but he wanted to hear her, really hear her.

“Feels good…”

“Just good? Guess I’ll take that, for now.” He hummed, amused; fair enough, he could work for it. He wasn’t particularly given over to patience, naturally, but it was a skill set he had learned over time as a smuggler, and hell, this was a damn good time to put it to use.

Slow and steady. That was the best way to get her all worked up, he figured, pressing deep with each roll of his hips then slowly, slowly, almost pulling fully out of her before sinking back in deep again. Each thrust drew a beautiful little moan or whimper from her parted lips, one of her hands balled in the blanket, the other wandering up his back, finding his hair.

She loved to touch his hair, running her fingers through it, pulling gently on it whenever he hit that sweet spot inside her. He’d been almost self conscious about the amount of silver streaking dark locks, but the way she touched him made him forget any notion of being concerned about his ageing looks that he might have had.

Another moan from her lips as she pressed a kiss to his jaw.

“You alright there?” A soft chuckle from his chest that faded into a low groan as she tightened around him. “Fuck, darling, you feel so good.”

She hummed, wrapped her legs nice and tight around his waist, pulling him in deep and keeping him there.

“You have no idea,” her voice was soft, a loving whisper into his ear. “You have no idea how good you feel.”

“Yeah? The way you’re reacting? I’m starting to get a damn decent idea of how good it feels.” He started to move again, faster this time, coaxing more delicious sounds from her parted lips. The hand that had been wrapped in the blanket moved to his back, to rest there.

She was desperately trying to keep quiet, aware of their companion in the next room, but it was difficult, especially when he picked up the pace, especially when she could hear every groan and growl he let pass from his lips, low and needy in her ear.

Her breathing was starting to grow more rapid, her nails leaving marks in the scarred, solid muscle of his back.

He couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his face, the rush of confidence and quite frankly smugness that he was getting such a reaction from her; he had twenty years on her, after all, and here she was, about to fall apart in his arms, not for the first time either.

“That’s it, baby. C’mon now…” he urged, soft and sweet and southern in his tone, “look at you. Takin’ it so well…”

He punctuated each of the last four words with a slow, deep, agonisingly lovely thrust, hitting her sweet spot over and over until she cried out, burying her face in his shoulder to try and muffle the sounds she made as he felt her tighten around him, again and again, until he thought perhaps the climax of the pleasure he was giving her might not end.

“Joel…” His name was the only word he could make out amongst her cries and moans.

“There we go, darlin’, ride it out, breathe through it…”

Honestly, Joel couldn’t help but talk her through it; he had absolutely no idea how goddamn attractive that was, either. No clue. It was just second nature to him.

“Wanna make you feel good…” her voice was still shaky from her recent climax, eyes half lidded and blinking up at him.

“Oh, baby, you are, you have no idea. You feel so fuckin’ amazing…” he leaned down and stole another kiss; he could feel himself getting closer and closer to his own release, but kept going. He would keep going, right until the last minute.

He was getting rougher now, chasing his own release, lost in his own mindset. Every nerve was on fire; wherever she kissed him, it burned, in the best way possible. It wasn’t possible, of course, but he was certain he would feel every spot on his neck, his chest, his lips, where she had kissed him for days to come.

God, it was tempting to just stay inside her; to fill her up and see her reaction to being thoroughly, truly claimed as his. But it was far, far too risky. She was younger than him. Young enough that it would be an enormous risk to take. Young enough that a single error could mean bringing a life into this world of pain.

He wouldn’t risk that. Wouldn’t risk her life like that. It was only that resolve that reminded him to pull out of her at the last moment, groaning softly at the sudden loss of warmth and tightness; she whimpered at the loss of their connection, stroked his hair as he spilled onto her stomach.

“Fuck…” he was half resting on top of her, trying to catch his breath. “That… would have been easier fifteen years ago.”

She laughed as he rolled them, pulled her into his arms, let her tuck her head onto his chest, her fingers tracing little patterns there. They could deal with their mess later.

“You wouldn’t have liked me fifteen years ago.” She said, smiling.

Her hair was a mess, her lips swollen from his kisses, but god, she was beautiful.

“You wouldn’t have liked me either.” He admitted, less amused. The things he had done, in the early days… the things he had done recently… it was a dark train of thought.

“Hey.” She tapped his chest gently. “Don’t go away into your head. It doesn’t matter who we were, right? Only who we are now.”

There was so much more she wanted to say; here, warm and safe and wrapped in his arms, her body still aching from how desperately he had made love to her…

She wanted so, so badly, to tell him how she felt. But she was afraid of rejection. Afraid of putting him on the spot and ruining everything they had, everything they were building.

“I like who you are now.” His voice broke the silence, quieter than usual, with a little hesitation behind it. Not because he wasn’t certain of what he had said, but because he wasn’t used to openly admitting such things.

“A nuisance who used to make you protect me and then followed your ass out of the QZ?” Lucy asked, because she didn’t dare take any deeper meaning from it without him explicitly treading that ground.

Joel laughed.

“Yeah, definitely. No, smartass. I mean the woman who approached me in the QZ because you wanted to help people. Who’s following me across the damn country, and not for some selfish ass reason.”

Lucy shook her head.

“You’re wrong there. It is for a selfish reason.”

“How so?”

She sighed. “I didn’t want you to go… I was… worried I would never see you again.”

“So you thought you’d risk your life… to stay with me?”

“… Yes?” She spoke as though it were the simplest thing in the damn world. That conviction… what the hell had he ever done to deserve such adoration?

He was silent for a moment.

“Lucy…”

“Yeah?”

He didn’t know where to begin; it took him a moment to find the words. The last thing he wanted was to fuck this up.

“You know… that I’m old, right?”

Ah, fuck, that hadn’t come out right at all, and he knew it.

“Not that much older.” She wasn’t even protesting too much, merely stating a fact.

“Twenty fucking years. You could have found someone younger in the QZ. Someone decent. Had a life. Had kids.”

The idea of her with someone else, though? It made him heated. When he’d come across that asshole trying to put his hands on her… he had seen red.

She shook her head, propped herself up to look down at him, so he could see her face as she spoke.

“I don’t care. There could be a dozen decent men in the QZ, lining up wanting me. I don’t fucking care, Joel. I chose you. I knew what I was doing when I left. I didn’t even care if you never noticed me. I still chose you.”

He stared at her for a minute.

“You were willing to risk everything, to lose everything… even if we had just remained… what we were?”

She shrugged, chewed her lip for a moment.

“I may not be the smartest person in the world. I never claimed to be. But what I do know is how I feel about you, and that I wanted to leave so I could stay with you, and protect you if I could, and even if you never feel the same, even if this is as far as we go… I won’t regret a single choice. Not for a second.”

Her confession surprised him; he had suspected, of course, that she had some deeper feeling for him than just sexual attraction. It was hard to call her out on it when he had the same… issue. But he had never given it much thought. He was older than her, had never thought she would ever consider him in a romantic light.

“You think I wouldn’t feel the same?” Was all he eventually said.

She shrugged. “I’m not egotistical, Joel. And I know you have… a lot going on. I never expected…”

“No,” he said quietly, “of course you wouldn’t. Because that’s you, isn’t it? You don’t expect anyone to care about you. You give and give and give, until you have nothing left, and you never ask for anything…”

Her cheeks heated.

“I don’t…”

“You do, and it’s not a bad quality. It’s a quality that gets people trying to take advantage of you, which means I have a list about a mile long of people I’d cheerfully beat to death, but it’s also a quality I like in you. Having a soul in this world is rare, and even though it means I worry constantly about whether some bastard is gonna hurt you… I’d never ask you to change.”

Joel had never, ever, been good at talking about his feelings. It had led to the breakdown of his relationship with Sarah’s mother. Had been the barrier that prevented him from ever considering anything like a relationship with Tess, no matter how much she had wanted it. But he owed her the truth. Those two women were dead, but Lucy was here, and alive, and looking at him like she so often did, her expression blank but her eyes soft and loving.

“Joel…” She was leaning in again, the unspoken words on her lips, in her gaze.

“I know, baby. I know.”

“Let me say it…” she breathed; they were so close now, so close together.

He had been afraid; perhaps that was why he had simply said he knew. But she was so close, so warm against him, and in his heart he knew the answer to her unspoken words…

“Say it, darling…”

“I love you, Joel…” her lips were inches from his, trepidation in her gaze as she breathed the words they both already knew.

A heartbeat passed, and he quelled his fears.

“I love you, baby girl. I love you, too.”

And he leaned in and closed the distance between them, finally, finally, letting her in.

#my writing #rue unconditionally #joel miller #joel miller x oc #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fic #the last of us

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extraguys · 11 months ago

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𝑨 𝑴𝑼𝑳𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑬 𝑬𝑿𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬, 𝑩𝒀 𝑪𝑹𝑶𝑺(𝑻𝑬𝑵). choose your genres, your characters, walk up to each arcade cabinet -- a world in and of itself. shameless focus on romance, on redemption, and joy that some of us never got to have. (he/him, 26, AEST.)

CURRENT BRAINROT: PANIC (2021) CURRENTLY READING: PANIC (2014)

CARRD / MOBILE MUSE LIST BELOW PROMPT TAG / tba. LOOKING FOR ME? FIND ME HERE: @gamelost , @polardestiny , @warhaeds

LIVE ACTION MEDIA

* UMA. DISNEY'S DESCENDANTS. SHE/HER • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* CARLOS DE VIL. DISNEY'S DESCENDANTS. HE/HIM • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* MEREDITH GREY. GREY'S ANATOMY. SHE/HER • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

FELIX. ONCE UPON A TIME. HE/HIM • HOMOSEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* MALCOLM / PETER PAN. ONCE UPON A TIME. HE/HIM • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* RED RIDING HOOD / RUBY. ONCE UPON A TIME. SHE/HER • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* HARRY VANDERSPEIGLE. RESIDENT ALIEN. HE/HIM • PANSEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

LITERATURE/MULTIMEDIA

* AARON MINYARD. ALL FOR THE GAME. HE/HIM • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* JEREMY KNOX. ALL FOR THE GAME. HE/HIM • HOMOSEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* WANDERER. THE HOST. ANY / SHE/HER • DEMISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* JARED HOWE. THE HOST. HE/HIM • HETEROSEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* PEETA MELLARK. THE HUNGER GAMES. HE/HIM • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* SEJANUS PLINTH. THE HUNGER GAMES. HE/HIM • HOMOSEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* GRANTAIRE. LES MISERABLES. HE/HIM • DEMISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* JASON GRACE. RIORDANVERSE. HE/HIM • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* OCTAVIAN. RIORDANVERSE. HE/HIM • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* PATROCLUS. THE SONG OF ACHILLES. HE/HIM • HOMOSEXUAL. MOSTLY CANON COMPLIANT.

* JASPER WHITLOCK. THE TWILIGHT SAGA. HE/HIM • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* SAM ULEY. THE TWILIGHT SAGA. HE/HIM • HETEROSEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* PAUL LAHOTE. THE TWILIGHT SAGA. HE/HIM • HETEROSEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* ISABELLA SWAN. THE TWILIGHT SAGA. SHE/HER • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

VIDEOGAMES

* MARIAN HAWKE. DRAGON AGE 2. SHE/HER • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* CULLEN RUTHERFORD. DRAGON AGE: INQUISITION. HE/HIM • HETEROSEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* CREMISIUS ACLASSI / KREM . DRAGON AGE: INQUISITION. HE/HIM • PANSEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* AOBA SERAGAKI. DRAMATICAL MURDER. HE/HIM • HOMOSEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* ZACK FAIR. FINAL FANTASY VII. HE/HIM • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* SNOW VILLIERS. FINAL FANTASY XIII. HE/HIM • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* ABIGAIL "FETCH" WALKER. INFAMOUS: SECOND SON. SHE/HER • PANSEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* MAX CAULFIELD. LIFE IS STRANGE. SHE/HER • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* WARREN GRAHAM. LIFE IS STRANGE. HE/HIM • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* ALEX CHEN. LIFE IS STRANGE: TRUE COLORS. SHE/HER • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* HUGO TIQUE / GOTH BOY. MY SIMS. HE/HIM • HOMOSEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* SHINJIRO ARAGAKI. PERSONA 3. HE/HIM • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* KANJI TATSUMI. PERSONA 4. HE/HIM • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* RYOTARO DOJIMA. PERSONA 4. HE/HIM • HETEROSEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* MUNEHISA IWAI. PERSONA 5. HE/HIM • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* RYUJI SAKAMOTO. PERSONA 5. HE/HIM • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* VOLKNER. POKEMON: DIAMOND & PEARL & PLATINUM. HE/HIM • HOMOSEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* GRUSHA. POKEMON: SCARLET & VIOLET. HE/HIM • HOMOSEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* PLUMERIA. POKEMON: SUN & MOON. SHE/HER • PANSEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

ANIMATION

* MAKO. AVATAR. HE/HIM • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* ZUKO. AVATAR. HE/HIM • DEMISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* AKIRA FUDO. DEVILMAN CRYBABY. HE/HIM • PANSEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* AIICHIRO NITORI. FREE! HE/HIM • HOMOSEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* MAKOTO TACHIBANA. FREE! HE/HIM • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* SOSUKE YAMAZAKI. FREE! HE/HIM • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* ANNA OF ARENDELLE. DISNEY'S FROZEN. SHE/HER • HETEROSEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* ADAM. HAZBIN HOTEL/HELLUVA BOSS. HE/HIM • PANSEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* BLITZØ. HAZBIN HOTEL/HELLUVA BOSS. HE/HIM • PANSEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* SAKURA HARUNO. NARUTO. SHE/HER • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* BUNNYMUND. RISE OF THE GUARDIANS. HE/HIM • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* CHRISTOPHE DELORNE / THE MOLE. SOUTH PARK. HE/HIM • HOMOSEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

MISC

* BARRY BLUEJEANS. THE ADVENTURE ZONE. HE/HIM • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* JOHANN. THE ADVENTURE ZONE. HE/HIM • HOMOSEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* MAGNUS BURNSIDES. THE ADVENTURE ZONE. HE/HIM • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* JULIA BURNSIDES. THE ADVENTURE ZONE. SHE/HER • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* DUCK NEWTON. THE ADVENTURE ZONE. HE/HIM • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* JAKE COOLICE. THE ADVENTURE ZONE. HE/HIM • PANSEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* TUPPENCE TERROR. DC COMICS. SHE/HER • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* CONNER KENT / SUPERBOY. DC COMICS. HE/HIM • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* TEDDY ALTMAN / HULKLING. MARVEL COMICS. HE/HIM • HOMOSEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* NOH-VARR. MARVEL COMICS. HE/HIM / IT/ITS • PANSEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* MISCHA BACHINSKI. RIDE THE CYCLONE. HE/HIM • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

* ANATOLE KURAGIN. NATASHA, PIERRE, AND THE GREAT COMET OF 1812. HE/HIM • BISEXUAL. CANON DIVERGENT.

ORIGINAL CHARACTERS

* DELILAH COUSLAND. DRAGON AGE ORIGINS. SHE/HER • HETEROSEXUAL. WARRIOR.

* MIRANDA HAWKE. DRAGON AGE 2. HE/HIM • BISEXUAL. PURPLE HAWKE.

* TREMOR ADAAR. DRAGON AGE INQUISITION. HE/HIM • BISEXUAL. SCARED OF EVERYTHING.

* KIRA ADAAR. DRAGON AGE INQUISITION. SHE/HER • BISEXUAL. BAD BITCH HOURS.

* COMMANDER LEON SHEPARD. MASS EFFECT TRILOGY. SHE/HER • PANSEXUAL. CANON COMPLIANT.

* NOVEMBER ALLARD. NON-FANDOM. SHE/HER • DEMISEXUAL. MISSING & FOUND.

* KENNEDI LOSIER. NON-FANDOM. SHE/HER • BISEXUAL. HOCKEY FRAT MOM.

* NIKLAUS REMBRANDT. NON-FANDOM. HE/HIM • BISEXUAL. YOUR LOCAL GANG LEADER.

* WINNIFRED MONSKEN. POKEMON. SHE/HER • PANSEXUAL. NORMAL TYPE TRAINER.

* SYDNEY CALLAHAN. RIORDANVERSE. SHE/HER • BISEXUAL. A DAUGHTER OF NEMESIS.

#📌

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dragonbanexxi · 2 years ago

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Soul of Bronze; Blood of Fire

Not Canon Compliant!!!

Helaena Targaryen x OC Targaryen Royce

The Heir of Runestone would often joke that he should be referred to as Rhaegar Stone. Seeing as his father (Prince Daemon Targaryen) had no want for him and his mother (Lady Rhea Royce) was long dead. All jokes end when he and Ser Gerold Royce are summoned to the capitol by none other than King Viserys the First of his Name. The King wanting nothing more than to bring his estranged nephew into the fold, Viserys offers Rhaegar his so called Targaryen Right. A betrothal to the Princess Helaena and the chance to claim a dragon. Will Rhaegar be able to claim such a beast? Even if his valyrian skills were lacking? Prince Aemond seems to think so. Though he’s mostly is just thrilled to finally have someone around who’s willing to be his friend. Also the court begins to notice that the Princess Helaena seems to have taken a liking to the new prince. Much to her mothers dismay, who’s fighting tooth and nail to have the girl be given to Aegon. Something neither sibling wanted. To Rhaegar everything was going smoothly until the news of Laena Velaryon death had dampen everything.

Chapter 10: Ser Laenor

“You all should have seen him! My nephew a top the fearsome Cannibal, commanding it as if it were a mere puppy!” The King spoke in a fatherly tone of pride. “How could I not reward such a brave accomplishment. Rhaegar Targaryen will be a man of legend! I just know it.”

The Queen and her great nemesis the Princess Rhaenyra share a look unease. Both trying to hide their worry behind a cool facade and both failing miserably.

Now Ser Laenor actively attempts to avoid getting stuck between the crossfire of the royal women, but there is one thing that he couldn’t deny. Neither Alicent or Rhaenyra knew how to be happy about things that didn’t involve them or their children.

Alicent, he assumes, is fuming that his grace is boasting his nephew in way that he never does her children, they’re always a second thought to him. It must pain her that in the few weeks that Rhaegar has been here at court; he’s managed to consume the kings attention by simply breathing.

Of course Viserys was quite taken with Rhaegar. The boy is serving to fill a void that Prince Daemon left behind.

Rhaenyra no doubt sees it too. His wife hasn’t said anything negative about the boy, but it doesn’t take a scholar to tell that she’s jealous. All her life Rhaenyra has been second to no one when it comes to the kings affection. The only person in that aspect to be her equal was Daemon. Yet Daemon has been in self imposed exile for seven years now and Rhaenyra remained.

Now all of a sudden a boy of barely ten and four years has swooped in taking her fathers attention from her… it’s hilariously really. Ser Laenor couldn’t help but smile sheepishly at his wife. She returns a look of confusion but it was gone as soon as it came.

Rhaenyra’s eyes land her little cousin “Well congratulations Ser Rhaegar.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Pray tell, how did you manage to bond with such a wild beast?”

All eyes land on the handsome boy, too young for knighthood. “Well to be honest…” the boy begins to blush.

Causing the Princess Helaena to giggle. The eerie girl was probably the only one in her family to be content with her betrothal. Her lilac eyes somehow coming alive when Rhaegar crosses her line of vision.

“I had tried to use the few valyrian commands my cousins taught me. They didn’t work at all.”

Hums and ohs were sputter among them. Confusion engulfing the air.

“Honestly I got frustrated and began to yell commands in the common tongue but that didn’t work either. It wasn’t until I got truly desperate and yelled in the old tongue that the Cannibal began to obey.”

“By the fourteen flames…” Viserys whispers his amethyst eyes growing wide.

Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor glancing at each other, no words need to be spoken between them. A dragon only obeying commands in the old tongue? That was unheard of. Not to mention dangerous.

“Cousin I don’t want to be the one to ruin the joyous ambiance however this is odd. I mean It’s never happened before.”

The boy nods his head slowly as if he didn’t know how to respond. Ser Laenor sees a look hesitation in the boys face.

“What my wife means to say is that, the bonds created by our ancestors and the dragons originated from Valyrian blood magic. For a dragon to not understand our mother tongue well…” His words left unsaid.

“It doesn’t matter if the dragon understands the old tongue or moraqi, it is now bonded with my nephew for as long as they live.” His grace says as he gives the boy a proud pat on his back. “I know the gods would prove my decision to betroth my little daughter to Prince Rhaegar correctly.”

Ser Laenor couldn’t contain his laugh. The boy had no control over his blushes at all. The Little Knight blushing like a bright cherry.

“Well there is still sometime before they actually get married.” Queen Alicent said snippily. “Still it is quite a feat to be knighted so young my dear. May the Seven light your way.” The kings heir rolls her eyes, inconspicuously of course.

“Thank you your grace.” His tone polite.

Hours later the silver haired couple sat in their private chamber enjoying a bottle of Arbour Gold. Their boys were already put to bed yet the night was still quite young, they sit comfortably in each others presence.

“He’s nothing like his father” Rhaenyra says out of nowhere, “nothing like Daemon at all.”

Laenor takes a quick swig from his goblet before saying “Well that’s to expected, the boy doesn’t even know him.”

The princess sighs deeply as she stares into the auburn flames of the chimney. Her amethyst eyes seem to be longing for someone. No doubt Daemon, the Velaryon man muses. Since entering their marriage both he and wife had grown exceptionally close. While there’s was not a love marriage in the romantic sense for obvious reasons, their relationship had blossomed to that of sibling affection. Thus her feelings for her uncle were no secrect to him. Rhaenyra was no doubt Ser Laenor’s best friend, now that communication between he and his true born sister was scarce. Still Laenor was grateful for his wife who lets him live and indulge in his pleasures.

Rhaenyra still has her eyes on the burning flames. Twirling her ruby ring around her finger.

“My father wants Rhaegar around longer… You know some days ago he and my cousin were in his study…” she begins with an odd tone. “I had let myself in, having something urgent to say to his grace, but since he was speaking with Rhaegar he made me wait outside until they were done.”

Ahh Ser Laenor now understands it’s the freshly planted seed of bitterness. Rhaenyra has never been made to wait to speak to the King. Ever. She must feel pushed to side by his graces newly acquired affection for his nephew.

“You’re jealous” a teasing tone oozing out Ser Laenor’s mouth. The glare it earns him was epic, it makes him smile smugly.

“The Realm’s Delight jealous of a little country mouse” he snickers. Not all afraid of Rhaenyra’s growing annoyance.

“He’s proving to be anything but a little country mouse” Rhaenyra says solemnly. Ignoring her husband who was still giggling like a freshly crowned Queen of Love and Beauty.

“You should have seen him Rhaenyra. Flying atop that obsidian beast, he looked like a valyrian warrior commanding his dragon.”

“As if he needs any more accomplishments for my father to be taken with him.” She grumbles.

“He’s just a boy.” The Knight smiles at his wife. She’s not use to being treated like her siblings and isn’t taking well to being second best. An amusing thought that the little princess isn’t getting her way. This new dynamic was bringing great enjoyment to the sea lord. Though he would never tell his wife that.

“You need to set aside these feelings of jealousy wife.” His voice now serious. He rubs his chins, in a thoughtful manner.

“Rhaegar will one day be lord of Runestone. The Royce’s aren’t a large house but they do have great wealth.” A vast wealth that could help defend Rhaenyra’s cause one day. Having her cousin on her side would benefit her greatly, his wife just needs to sway the boy to her side. He sets his goblet down in the small tea table before them. “We can thank the boy’s mother for that. In her short time as the lady of Runestone, she increased their income tenfold.” And it was true. No house bred finer steeds for combat than House Royce.

The beautiful woman scrunches her nose at the mention of Rhaegar’s mother. Though Ser Laenor had never met the late Lady Royce, he did have to put up with Daemons constant complaining about his ‘Bronze Bitch’. Rhaenyra must only know Lady Royce through the perspective of her uncle. Thus making her opinion biased.

“I suppose.” Was all his wife responds with.

“He’s a great boy Rhaenyra. Also our sons and your brothers enjoy him as well.” He gets up from the cushioned chair and stretches his arms up. “Let these notions of childish jealousy go. Besides the boy is to return back to Runestone soon and your reign as the King’s favorite person will begin anew.”

He walks away leaving his wife deep in thought.

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

Thank you, you guys for all the likes and comments! I appreciate them all! ❤️ This chapter is a little short, but I promise that the next chapter will be longer. It’ll be an Alicent pov!

Feel free to comment! ❤️

#daemon targaryen x rhea royce #helaena targaryen x oc #targaryen royce oc #helaena targaryen

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little-engineer-who-cant · 2 years ago

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I want know about your Black Sails aus!!

Ah, thank you for asking!! I have several so this is a very long answer.

I've written a one shot where Abigail Ashe comes back to Nassau in Season 3. She watches, learns and reconciles the events of Seasons 3 and 4 before going her separate way again to settle in the colonies and keep a quieter resistance alive in the Deep South (I love Freedom Fighter Abigail theories and the lack of information post-Charles Town is an excellent playground). It explores Abby's mourning for her innocence, as well as her more complicated feelings towards pirates (Flint and Vane especially) in regards to both believing in their cause and being angry about what happened to her personally. From everything with Ned Lowe (and how she hates Vane for taking her, is grateful that he killed Lowe) to the death of Miranda (and her father's culpability in it) and finally to Flint's role in her father's rise and fall, it's a study of the grey area she inhabits. Mostly it focuses on various conversations between Abigail and Vane because they share one scene together but the way Abigail answers him with such an emphatic "good" in that cell despite being completely terrified of him compels me. That entire scene is so good, from the conversation about Lowe to the asking if Abigail's father loves her and the detached certainty of her answer that he'll pay and Vane's reactions to that having really only seen Eleanor and Richard's father-daughter relationship, it's just a very good scene.

A concept that also fascinates me that I've started playing around with is an AU where Vane and Miranda actually meet and how a chance stumbling upon one another turns into a personal power struggle between them where Miranda is bored and wants to push back against someone who's not Flint while Vane wants her to be afraid of him and is peeved it's not working. That one's more for the sheer fun of it because I had a vision in my head of Vane trying to play it cool across an afternoon tea setup with Miranda and failing miserably. Miranda is just having a good time ruffling feathers all around, including Flint's.

I also have a Pirates of the Caribbean and Black Sails crossover series that's a bunch of characters ruminating on one another (James Norrington on James McGraw and the scandal that caused in the Navy. Elizabeth Swann on Abigail Ashe and being the daughter of a governor involved with pirates, etc.) Basically it's a small collection of short, mostly canon compliant character studies that I'm having a ton of fun exploring.

Similarly, one that I've been writing for a long time but that will probably never see the light of day is a Black Sails and Game of Thrones crossover solely inspired by Tom Hopper being in both shows (for like 5 minutes in GoT). The basic backstory is that magic has been waking up for a long time and sometimes, people get caught in the crosshairs. Dickon Tarly is being sent to foster, his ship is caught in an awful storm that dumps them somewhere with different stars and they run afoul of an English vessel, resulting in Billy Bones being impressed and eventually leading him to Flint.

The story itself focuses on Billy Bones washing ashore back in Westeros instead of Skeleton Island and having to reconcile his life as a pirate and revolutionary with his childhood, and assumed birthright, as a powerful feudal lord. I lean a lot into the fantasy elements of ASoIaF, including long dormant magic waking up, the roles of gods versus the possibility that none exist and Euron's entire eldritch deal as he invades the Reach. Billy Bones comes back to a war-torn Westeros as someone jaded by the system of civilization that he's now thrust into the middle of. But Billy Bones cannot be what Westeros requires, Billy Bones is an agitator not lord. He may not have any ghosts chasing him here, but he has to reconcile two very different lives, build new alliances with war torn children of former enemies and navigate his father's ambitious plans all while trying to come to personal terms with the ramifications of his actions throughout Season 4. Also, you know, there's a madman destroying the Reach, ice zombies coming from the north, the capital is on fire and as Tyrells start dropping like flies, a lot of people are looking to him for answers he does not have, nor does he want to give.

Overall, this one's a silly premise that I'm having fun exploring and it's a very good visual of how I have changed and developed as a writer over the years.

#black sails #ask #I could talk about my AU ideas for days thank you so much for asking!

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sins-of-the-sea · 2 years ago

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angst: 🤔 😶

The Angst Meme

🤔: Any angst tropes you’re not really fond of?

//I've answered this one before here, so this is a different answer.

I am not a fan of angst that has no impact on the character or story. I'm not saying that we are not allowed to have a character that overcame angst and healed from it by the time we meet them (in fact, I find those fascinating!), what I am saying is that the angst seemed to have been tacked onto a character for the sake of…. well, angst. And then nothing being done with it beyond just angst. I mostly see this in fanfiction circles where fanfic writers tack on a tragic backstory to a character that canonically does not display a behavior indicative of that past. Now I am not AGAINST giving tragic backstories to canon characters at all (I'm guilty of it myself). It's when they transfer this habit to their ORIGINAL CHARACTERS--muses the writers have 100% full control of writing--that drives me up the wall. And this is a habit I am seeing even today.

On a related tangent, I am not fond of "conga line" trauma in angst stories. Even with the Seven I try to mellow out the number of tragedies they encounter; though then again, I have the excuse that they are centuries old (so it is possible to have enough tragedy to last several generations and lifetimes). The closest I got possibly to this is how Josep had some tragic event every summer for several years straight, but even then this DOES have a narrative purpose: it forms how he becomes the Sin of Wrath. Otherwise, I abide by a rule when I write angst for my characters regardless of story: If my character can't heal or overcome this, then I am not writing it. This rule is also how I draw the line when interacting with other muses in the amount of angst I am willing to tolerate. But I cannot tell you often this line is crossed anyway.

😶: Got any future thread angst hidden up your sleeve?

You think Guy's misery is going to end after Sinfully Valentining 2?

I kid no I'm not maybe. But besides Guy, my brain lately has been focused on the other members of the Crew. At last, we are getting stories for the Razing of Guangzhou (Canton), the biggest tragic event not only to affect the Seven, but all of Devil's Eye. For this blog alone there is angst in Josep and Abena losing Arcelia, Rashid losing a chance at another happy life of settling with friends and family, Phoebus failing people once again as a healer, Ruixiong losing his first real connections with China in a century, and Giovanni dealing with the guilt of being the reason the Razing happened at all. Guy losing his love in San-Gwong is only one out of seven major angst plotlines when it came to Guangzhou. And that's just this blog.

As far as threads go with other RPers, well, interacting with the Seven will always be inherently angsty. The Master makes sure his thralls are miserable, and he reminds them of their misery deliberately as to make sure they also remember why they came to him to begin with. Moments of happiness distract the Seven, so he will yank their chains to bring them back to reality. And of course, the Master wants to 'break' his thralls like one would 'break' a horse. The more unquestionably compliant, the better.

Some examples, for fun:

Annalise ( @dragonskxn ) finding out Giovanni is the reason behind the Razing of Guangzhou

Sacara ( @thelittlestdemon ) or Taryn ( @rxdhairxdsirxns ) finding out that Phoebus ran out on his bride Deborah Conrad at the altar in 1721.

Cayla/Orquidia ( @orphanedwolfandfriends ) finding out about Arcelia and she is almost being unwittingly treated like a "replacement goldfish" for Josep and Abena

Marshmallow ( @rosegoldkingdom ) being the object of Guy's affections, except Guy is scared he'll hurt him or lose him like he lost San-Gwong.

Rashid and Ruixiong don't have future angsty thread ideas, as Rashid already went through a truckload and I'm honestly really really really really REALLY ready to move on by now, whereas Ruixiong has yet to have a focus relationship that isn't built on antagonism or comedy.

#[OOC]#[Meme]

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hungergameshyperfixation · 3 months ago

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Yess that’s a good point about marriage not being explicitly confirmed—I could also see a completely canon compliant post-MJ where Katniss and Peeta are happily unmarried but sharing a life together.

I also think that, despite possibly changing from this, Katniss as a character values her autonomy; this is mostly due to the oppressive system in Panem and personal situations that literally forced her to take her survival into her own hands, BUT I still think that kind of mindset could exist within her beyond the events of Mockingjay. She might learn to accept love and live a healthier life (as in, her mental health improved and she’s not literally justifiably miserable), but the personality she developed during her developmental years could be similar.

^All that to say, I personally don’t see Katniss as a character who would change her last name, and if she did I think it wouldn’t be from a healthy place?? I think her name is integral to who she is, and in my personal HC i think she’d view it the same as well. ‘Names hold power’ and all that.

Im writing this super off the cuff lmao bear with me

I also love the kids getting hyphenated names regardless! It just makes so much sense to me.

I think I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I don’t think I have a specific preference when it comes to Katniss and Peeta’s last names post-MJ.

I do want to make the unconventional (?) argument for:

Katniss Everdeen-Mellark

And

Peeta Mellark-Everdeen.

They keep their original names but have the addition of sharing the other’s name as their last. Idk, I can see a number of name combinations working for them. But Katniss Mellark does not sit right with me (at least it hasn’t before, maybe that’ll change one day?)

She’ll always be Everdeen in my eyes. Whether it’s Mellark-Everdeen or Everdeen-Mellark, if she chooses to take Peeta’s name I don’t think she’d sacrifice her own.

Not to say that changing or ‘taking’ your partner’s last name is inherently sacrificing your own, but in this context (aka a fictional/narrative one) I think Everdeen will always be a part of her. Her name is her connection to her father, her sister, and even her mother—all of whom she lost (at least partially in her mother’s case). She can still have that connection without her last name, and one could make the argument that it can almost be beneficial that she ‘sheds’ or evolves beyond her past life and takes on a new name/identity of her choosing (one based on love and all that)

But still!! I subscribe to the Everdeen propaganda!! I much prefer Katniss Everdeen being the name she stays with.

I also have a similar ish argument as to why PEETA would take on the name Everdeen.

#thg #reblog thread #thg headcanons

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elianas-cozycorner · 2 years ago

Text

𝓞𝓷 𝓟𝓲𝓷𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓝𝓮𝓮𝓭𝓵𝓮𝓼 | 𝓢𝓬𝓻𝓸𝓸𝓰𝓮 (2022)

𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘖𝘯𝘦 | 𝘊𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘋𝘦𝘣𝘵𝘴

Dedicated to @the-house-of-auditore-frye

Summary: In a world where single mothers and working, low-class women are shunned, how can an unwed seamstress survive? With piling debts and the Christmas season underway, there's nothing worse than adding hopeless, one-sided love to your troubles. Pining after your lender and local miser, Ebenezer Scrooge, can only lead you to ruin. Right?

Author's Note: Hello, all!

This little project came to be because of Frye's post requesting a Scrooge fiction. Please be aware that, as much as I absolutely adore this man and the film, this is my first time writing for Ebenezer. Because I wanted this to be as enjoyable as possible, I spent about a week researching the Victorian Era (everything from coinage to etiquette). That being said, I will try my best to make this historically accurate while also being canon compliant. There is also a jump from past tense to present tense in this chapter, denoted by a cut.

Because the story's plot is mostly fleshed out, I will be trying my best to give you all weekly updates. I have kept or changed a manner of things I saw fit to, but largely kept to the user's storyline. I did give the reader a last name to save my sanity (I also do not use Y/N)! If anyone is interested in the parts of Victorian culture I reference, I'll start leaving notes at the end of chapters.

Word Count: 1558

Ao3 - Mature Rating

Warnings: Period Typical Attitudes/Sexism, Victorian Era

The smell of pine and freshly baked goods swirled in the otherwise polluted London air. A soft breeze tussled ladies’ bonnets and ruffled the cravats of refined gentlemen, the perfect reprise from the muggy smog. With the workhouses and factories tucked just beyond view, prevented from covering the shopping district in coal dust, the street was filled with last minute shoppers and happy couples. Christmas was naught but a short eve away and the holiday cheer was perfectly contagious. Women, accompanied by their mothers and sisters, walked along the newly cleaned sidewalks. Occasionally they would break out in conversation among themselves, whether over a charming gentleman across the way or a new shipment of ribbons advertised on a storefront. Poormen and servants wandered about the stalls in the street, collecting food from the grocers or mead from the brewers. The steady clopping of hooves and the calls of pauper boys selling their papers only added to the busy atmosphere of the shopping district.

The noise was close to overwhelming for some. One such gentleman walked alone, steel tipped cane clicking loudly against the cobblestone. Occasionally the man would pull his top hat further down his temple, adjust his upturned collar closer to his face, or grumble under his breath at the ineffectiveness of his overcoat. If one were to watch him long enough, they might see him pull a watch from his pocket and check its time against the clock tower’s. He avoided every sign of cheer, failed to acknowledge any gentlewoman he crossed paths with, and refused to return the Christmas wishes thrown his way.

So bothered by the joyous atmosphere was he that, at his next convenience, he ducked into an alley. There he took a moment to sigh deeply and adjust his evening wear. The permanent scowl across his face was not dissuaded by the huff of breath against his knee.

The man looked down, “Prudence.”

The large, wrinkly mastiff at his feet looked up at the mention of her name. She focused on him, waiting for the graying man to continue. But she did not receive further acknowledgement. Instead, her human took up a brisk pace and exited the alleyway. Set on reaching his destination, the man did not expect to run into a pair of caroling urchins. Nor his nephew shortly after.

“Uncle Ebenezer, is that you?”

“And to think,” The man growled under his breath, ducking behind a vendor’s stall. “That I should be granted any semblance of peace on such a wretched eve.”

There was a moment of silence and the grouch did not see his nephew’s figure again. “That was close–”

“Uncle! It is you, I knew it!” The cheerful gentleman appeared before him as if teleported by God himself.

Ebenezer Scrooge, cold hearted and lacking patience toward his relative as he was, couldn’t help the obvious annoyance that overtook his features. “Harry–”

“Merry Christmas!” Harry smiled broadly and extended his hat forward in greeting. It was a gesture that Scrooge did not return, favoring instead a scowl and exaggerated eye roll.

Unfazed by his uncle’s uncouth manner and blatant disrespect, Harry continued on to greet the giant hound at Scrooge’s hip. They engaged in a rather splendid moment, Prudence preening under the kind affections Harry offered. The men exchanged a few short words until the clocktower sounded out, catching their attention. Scrooge smiled gleefully then, a truly cruel and unashamed sort of glee.

“Out of time, Jenkins,” He turned to face his nephew. “As unpleasant as this encounter has been, Harry, I must bid my goodbyes. I have much to do before the clock strikes the sixth hour of the eve, many debts to collect. Be ye well, God bless you.” He extended his hat, bowing slightly at the waist.

“Oh, but Uncle–” Harry was cut off as the gray haired man turned down the way. He shared a puzzled look with their canine companion before following suit.

“Uncle, wait! Perhaps, if it will not inconvenience you, I may join you for your final collection.” The request is polite enough, if not a bit hesitant.

“I suppose you are about to tell me that it would be mutually beneficial to engage in such an excursion together,” Ebenezer Scrooge sighed deeply. “However noble the intention, my good boy, I am about on business –”

“As am I,” The response came from his left. “I have several gifts to acquire before the shops close for Christmas Eve, and I set out with the intent to meet you in the office. Your office.”

“Yes, you said as much.” The ebony cane tapped rhythmically against the cobbles underfoot. “If it is your will, I will not dissuade you. However, I will dismiss you immediately should you encroach upon my time.”

“Of course, as to be expected.”

“Expected?” A large, well maintained eyebrow shot up.

Harry floundered for a moment, unsure if he had crossed a line or poked a nerve. “I only meant that this excursion is as much about business for me as it is for you. ”

“Hmm. Christmas gifts. A pointless waste of coin and effort. Say,” Scrooge turned to face the other man then, halting in the middle of the walkway. “Should not your servant fetch these things?”

“They are preparing Christmas Eve Dinner! It is only right that they spend some time with their families come the morn, so the house will be hosting–”

-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷-̷

With his cane tucked under his arm, Ebenezer Scrooge adjusts his gloves in the doorway of Jenkin’s Toy Shoppe. His newly edited ledger sits heavily in his vest pocket: 50 pound – Jenkins, due Boxing Day. It gives him great pleasure to know that he will collect double the expected sum of Jenkin’s dues. So much so, the man does not register the fact that he is leaving Prudence in the care of his nephew as he exits the store. He is already tired of the social scenes and obligations placed upon him by society; what with enduring a continued human presence and being accosted by some unlicensed charity band.

‘The nerve,’ He thinks, once again checking his watch. ‘ Twenty past the hour already?"

He lets the cane drop back into his hand, using it for stability in the ice and snow. He has one last destination before he can retreat to his office: Louwermon’s Tailor and Dress Shoppe. A quaint little place on an industrial corner, hidden amongst the poorest rabble and unkempt developments. Originally owned by a stately old man, the clothing store often employed the lowest-class women and occasional middle-class seamstress. Now, after his passing and with shirts going for 7 pence a dozen, only one woman was left. The store and all of Louwermon’s earthly debts left unto her.

Scrooge cringes slightly at the thought, bringing his gloved hand to cover a breast pocket. Louwermon hadn’t even been her father. How a woman with so little prospects and devastatingly meager income had been allowed, by the courts no less , to keep the shop was beyond him. He knew she worked day and night, nearly twelve hours each day, to pay her late employer’s debts. That much he approved of, her timeliness and portly manner. But lately, come the winter season, such timeliness had given away to shortchanged dues and even missed payments. That, to the old miser, was the most unacceptable thing about her.

Lost in thought as he is, Scrooge is surprised when muscle memory encourages him to grip a familiar knob. The door handle, when he looks up to confirm, does indeed belong to the storefront of Louwermon’s Tailor and Dress Shoppe . With his right hand occupied with the door, he reaches for his ledger with the left. He wants nothing more than to make this trip quick.

When he finally steps across the threshold, a warm gust of air and the chime of a bell greet him. A fire roars in a hearth to the back of the front room, keeping it warm for customers. In the furthermost right corner there is an area sectioned off for fittings, more an alcove than a proper room. Several dresses sit on the till counter and a rack of men’s shirts line the most immediate wall. A couple mannequins to his left host unfinished coats and suits, while the store windows are arranged to display seasonal accessories. However, despite all the garments, he does not spot the store’s owner.

He stands alone for several long moments, watching the time tick by on his pocket watch. He strains his ears to hear the clicking of the hands, taps his cane a couple times, and tries to tame his impatience by looking around the room. He waits, and waits. Eventually, Scrooge’s patience runs out. Indignant at being left to loiter, he clears his throat as loudly as the dry air will allow.

“I’ll say, Ms. Blackwood, this is certainly no way to run an establishment!”

From some room in the very back, Scrooge hears a clattering sound and the rushing of footsteps. The creaking of the door is accompanied by a small murmur of pain. Well worn hands brace themselves against the doorframe and gentle eyes meet stern ones. In her eyes there is a hint of fear and he knows then that she will ask for another extension.

‘Will I give it?’ He wonders.

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sunjaesol · 4 years ago

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canon compliant juke | based on this post by @molinashimbos

“Hey, Julie. Who’re you texting?” It slipped out before she wanted to. “My boyfriend.”

Well, fuck. Luke and her haven’t labelled the relationship yet, but she kind of assumed that after a couple of dates and the fact that he kissed her regularly, that they were just that. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Exclusive. Which was also a given, because he was dead and a ghost and didn’t have any ghost girls around. But it felt wrong to tell this random classmate about her status when that status hasn’t properly been discussed. Welp. Too late now.

Valerie gasped and plopped down in the free seat next to her. Luckily, the cafeteria was so packed and loud no one would be able to eavesdrop. Flynn shot her an exasperated look. Yes, Julie wanted to say, I indeed don’t have the braincell today.

“I knew it! No one smiles at their phone like that and not have it be a significant other!”

Julie had given Luke her old iPhone before they even began dating. Mostly so the boys could catch up on pop culture, but specifically that she and Luke could text during school and not have him randomly poof in and scare the lights out of her. She could only feign getting “hot flashes” so many times before someone got seriously worried about her.

“Y-yeah!” She stuttered out, a stressed smile pressed on her lips. “It’s... it’s very fresh though. Nothing interesting to tell other people or something!”

Valerie leaned in, intrigue glimmering her eyes. She was in for the scoop and they all knew it. “It’s that cute guitarist of yours, right? I’ve seen the videos. Isn’t that hard? Long distance? How late is it in Sweden anyway?”

Shit. She really should’ve thought about this beforehand. Gah! Why would she even start thinking of creating a cover story when she's been on cloud nine for weeks?! Luke sweetly kissing her was quite the distraction.

Her saving grace, Flynn, perked up. “Uh, late! Very late! But Luke’s a night owl, right Julie?”

“Yeah,” she squeaked. “He’s basically running on LA time.”

Valerie cooed. “That’s so sweet... I think. Then long distance is working out too, I guess?”

Ugh. Long distance was the biggest understatement of the century. The fact that her boyfriend was technically six feet down in some Orange County cemetery rotting away was not something she preferred to linger on. To Julie, Luke was real. Real and alive and warm and with a heart beating for her. But sometimes...

Sometimes, at night, when she was alone with her thoughts, the knowledge that he wasn’t actually kissing her, hugging her, playing music with her, ached more than she wanted it to. So no, she didn’t like to linger on it.

She couldn’t say that though. “Yeah. We facetime a lot. It’s- we’re making it work. But maybe not... tell everyone about this? We’re keeping it lowkey.”

“Very lowkey,” added Flynn with a quirked brow.

Valerie quickly nodded, zipping her mouth shut and throwing away the key. “Don’t worry about me! Just happy for you! Bye, Julie, Flynn!”

When Valerie disappeared from hearing distance, her bestie made a gagging sound. “The biggest tattletale of the school telling you to ‘not worry about her’? Better tell your boyfriend your relationship is public now, Jules.”

Julie’s head dropped on the table with a groan. Fucking perfect.

Frantically sliding the doors of the studio open and dropping her backpack on the floor, she called out for him. “Luke?!”

He poofed right in front of her. She still had no idea how he heard her when he wasn’t close-by, but she hasn’t had the guts to ask him. Whatever. She had other priorities.

“Hey,” he grinned, draping his arms around her shoulders. Her expression was clear as day though, the grin quickly dropping to a worried frown. “What’s wrong?”

Her eyes squeezed shut. “I did something stupid.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“I did.”

“Try me.” His warm gaze caught hers, twinkling with an emotion reserved for her and often leaving her speechless. His nose scrunched, leaning closer to murmur: “What happened, Jules?”

She sighed. Though he wouldn’t get mad, she’d hate it if he was even the slightest bit peeved. It would mean that they weren’t on the same wavelength and that she was way more into him than he was and then she’d feel miserable and embarrassed and- “I accidentally told someone at school you’re my boyfriend even though we haven’t talked about and I’m sorry!” The ramble left in one breath.

His eyes widened. “W-what?”

She cringed. “I know. It’s stupid. You were texting me and I wasn’t paying attention. I’m sorry.”

An incredulous chuckle puffed from his lips, the ones she loved kissing so much stretching into the brightest smile she’s ever seen. His eyes were impossibly green, though the black of his pupils almost swallowed it entirely. Julie’s heart stuttered out of place. He was looking at her like she was the prettiest view he’s ever seen, a rare, shimmering diamond cradled in his hands.

And then she saw it: moisture building in the corners of his eyes. Relief washed away the insecurities as she swiped his skin with a giggle. “Why’re you crying?”

His thumbs pressed into her cheeks, pressing his forehead against hers. Giddiness soared in her chest, that intoxicating feeling of being in his embrace topping any other sensation in the world.

“You called me your boyfriend,” he whispered.

Her arms found a way around his waist, matching his splitting grin. “Yeah. Can I take a guess and say I was right?”

Luke nodded, dazed. Their noses brushed. “Yeah... cool if I call you my girlfriend?”

God, if she wasn’t so infatuated with him she’d roll her eyes at his casualty. Instead, another eager giggle tumbled out. “Mh-hm. Sounds good.”

“Nice. Cause I’ve already been doing that.”

Chuckling, because her heart might actually explode, she gripped his back tighter. “Great.”

He didn’t wait. “Can I kiss you?”

She replied with her mouth, cherishing the way he responded immediately yet couldn’t keep the grin off his face when he did. Whenever his warm lips moulded against hers, his body buzzing with heat and that hum trembling in his chest (always finding a new tune to define their love), none of the difficulties they’d inevitably have to face mattered.

Right now, all that mattered was his heart promising her the world and her equalling that just as ardently. Right now, she was just going to enjoy kissing her boyfriend Luke Patterson like the lovesick girlfriend she was.

Like any couple would.

@blush-and-books @unsaid-emily @sophiphi @alexjulies @bluefirewrites @willexx

#don't listen to *right here right now* from hsm3 but actually do if you wanna feel things #juke #jatp fanfiction #julie and the phantoms #otp: i think we make each other better

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kittenshift-17 · 4 years ago

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Hi! I've really been craving some snamione fics, and your writing has made me picky 😬 do you have any fic recs or authors you go to when you're wanting something good? (the spicier the better)

Girl, you came to the right place. My Snamione loving heart is all aflutter. MY TIME HAS COME!!

*scampers off to fetch list to all her fave Snamiones in no particular order*

Self Slain Gods on Strange Altars by scumblackentropy What do you want me to say, Granger? That you are mine and I am yours? You are. I am. Let's not fuck around.

Pet Project by Caeria Hermione overhears something she shouldn't concerning Professor Snape and decides that maybe the House-elves aren't the only ones in need of protection.

FALLING FURTHER IN by kaz2 Hermione begins to learn something of the man behind the dark sarcasms of the classroom.

Chasing The Sun by Loten AU, from Order of the Phoenix onwards. Hermione only wanted to learn Healing; she discovers that Professor Snape is a human being after all, and his actions dramatically shape the course of the war as events unfold. Complete.

Pride of Time by Anubis Ankh Hermione quite literally crashes her way back through time by roughly twenty years. There is no going back; the only way is to go forward. And when one unwittingly interferes with time, what one expects may not be what time finds...

Inkspots by mezzosangue When you are a double spy with two masters, no one is a friend. But the war ended last May, and Severus is now his own man. An owl brings a letter of change, but is it a good change? Canon Compliant, disregards Epilogue. Eventual SS/HG romance.

Splintered and Broken by A plus He had watched as the thin wood snapped across her knee with a violence he had not known she possessed. He had been her teacher for seven years and had never seen this girl give up at anything. Voldemort wins, Hermione leaves, Severus waits.

The Tattered Man by Aurette I was once asked to write a Marriage Law Challenge fic by someone who loves a sad tale. This short story is it. Angst, Character Death. Tissues recommended. COMPLETE

Saving your life by lilmisblack When Hermione is captured by Death Eaters, Severus knows there's only one way to save her. 'What are you doing? ' she asked, her voice shaky. 'Saving your life,' he said, just as he started kissing her neck.

A Murder of Crows by Hogwarts 91 14 yrs post-war: Hermione’s teaching at Hogwarts when an un-aged Snape awakens from stasis and returns to the school. Sparks fly when they meet. Can they learn to trust and love in time to defeat an evil plot bent on changing the wizarding world forever?

Advanced Floriography by Viridiantly Snape's first question to Harry about wormwood and asphodel in the Language of Flowers means 'I bitterly regret Lily's death'. Harry never gets the message behind the question, but what if Hermione does, years later? Mostly set in HBP, DH and after. A story of messages with flowers, the wizarding war, and different kinds of love. Slow-burn. Not canon-compliant, but canon-inspired.

Looking for Magic by Hypnobarb Severus Snape and Hermione Granger deal with traumas past and present and find they have more in common than they realize as they prepare for the ultimate confrontation with Voldemort. SSHG pairing. Not HBP compliant. This is a novel length story.

Synergy by Laurielove Hermione is being followed, and she suspects she knows by whom. But when they come face-to-face, how will she react to him and his startling request? SS/HG. M readers only, please. Written for the 2011 LJ SS/HG Exchange.

Post Tenebras, Lux by Loten "After Darkness, Light." A chance meeting ten years after the war may not be just a coincidence, and may prove to have very far-reaching consequences. A story of many things, but primarily of healing. SS/HG; rated M for later chapters. Complete.

For the Potions Master's Amusement by snape.submiss Now Complete! Severus Snape is not a kind man, but Hermione Granger is past caring. She wants his approval and will do anything to get it. How far will she go? Even she has no concept of the depths to which she will fall in her quest.

Latent Loveliness by Ladyreason Bellatrix gets in one last curse before her defeat which causes Hermione to fall into a deep sleep... She'll only awaken to one man's kiss. And boy, will she awaken. eventual SSHG pairing

Babble On by Aurette One person's nervous tic, is another's nervous joy.

Liminal by Cybrokat Severus Snape keeps running into a student playing piano. Why does he stop to listen, and how does she respond when she is asked to invite him when she plays? And what about Voldemort? Here there be fluff, romance, drama, and angst.

Sins of the Father by Emmaficready 9 Months after the end of the war, a destitute Severus Snape, practically living rough, gets news that will change his life forever. Severus Snape Lives! / POST DH / EWE WARNINGS: Abuse, Neglect, Character Death, Rape, Sensitive/taboo topics.

The Marriage Law by teshara 020 rewrite and update! When Hermione Granger and Severus Snape are thrown together by the ill-conceived Marriage Law, no one doubts they'll make a good undercover team for the Order. No one suspects that they'll find mutual respect, love, and a plot to destroy the world. A story in 3 parts.

A wizard s trial by snapeophil Hermione is out after curfew when she witnesses something that will change her relationship to her DADA professor forever.

The Prisoner and the Occlumens by duskywolfdaemon Hermione's plans to spend her seventh year on the run with her friends are shattered when Severus Snape shows up with a proposal she cannot refuse. *AU 7th year with Hermione attending Hogwarts. Eventual SSHG. M for reasons. ***COMPLETE***

Unintentional Inveiglement by onecelestialbeing Takes places during the summer after OoTP, the Golden Trio is forced to stay in hiding at Grimmauld Place. Hermione (who is of age!) begins gravitating towards Snape without knowing why, and he attempts keeping her at arms length, but will be able to remain doing so? AU

Innocent Shadows by IShouldBeWritingSomethingElse "You'll sort everything. Gods, Hermione, you fought five Death Eaters to a standstill *and* defended and saved Snape."/ "Professor Snape."/ Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes. That." He waved his hand at the bed. "So this? Piece of cake." /Marriage Law /ss/hg HEA...always *grin*

Turned Over by IShouldBeWritingSomethingElse Severus Snape inherited Hermione Granger at three o'clock on a rain-soaked Saturday morning in March. SS/HG HEA...Always :) COMPLETE

The Irony by awakethelion Hermione Granger gets stuck in her Animagus form and is put in the care of the only one strong enough to control her - Severus Snape. The over-achieving know-it-all Gryffindor, is, in the eyes of Hogwarts student body, home taking care of her ill parents, while in reality she is now living life posing as Professor Snape's familiar. J.K. Rowling owns all the characters.

Camerado by MillieJoan Hermione seeks knowledge from a reluctant Snape in order to help the War effort. What she receives is more than either of them expected. Set beginning in Hermione's sixth year, continuing into a slightly AU post-DH era.

Unto Their Own by CRMediaGal The Light has fallen, Darkness abounds, and Hermione Granger is struggling to survive in a far more sinister Wizarding world. When she is sentenced into Snape's charge, Hermione begins to wonder if everything is truly as it seems. For better or worse, their worlds are about to collide, perhaps even unite them against a common enemy. AU, Post-Hogwarts, Rated M.

Vixen by SLovingLecter After her parent's deaths Hermione is bound and trapped in her Animagus form, first for her own safety, then to ensure the safety of others during the war. Who is she bound to? Severus Snape, of course.

Another Dream by dragoon811 Due to his injuries, Severus is unable to resume his old life. He's determined to be lonely and miserable, but the yearly Order Christmas party becomes a bright spot, thanks to Hermione Granger. Complete.

Entangled by IShouldBeWritingSomethingElse No doubt, she'd been showing off obscure spells she found in the archives, again. Apparently, she did that whilst drunk. Hermione never yet had any memory of it. / SS/HG HEA...Always :)

Time Immemorial by FawkesyLady Hermione loses it after the Battle of Hogwarts. Unfortunately, she still had that time turner and she uses it, sending her back in time, a mystery for the denizens of Hogwarts, circa 1976. OC's are important. Please note, chapters 21-26 could be considered crossovers with JRR Tolkien's Return of the King. In for long haul, y'all. Nominee for Marauder's Medal 2018, Best WIP.

The Offer of Just One More by IShouldBeWritingSomethingElse The feeling in her chest twisted. Tightened. Ronald Weasley didn't want children. SS/HG HEA...Always :) This one's a slow burn.

Time's Hammer by IShouldBeWritingSomethingElse She was about to break the time stream. Not just break it, but take a bloody hammer to it. SS/HG HEA...Always :)

Clash of the Conjurers by llorolalluvia In a world where the mere flap of a butterfly's wing can cause a hurricane on the other side of the globe, can one simple glance save a man's life? When Hermione and her professor are forced together against their will, can they overcome their differences, find order amidst the chaos, and save the Wizarding World? not Cannon compliant. Rated M for sexuality and violence. DUBCON!

Turned Over by IShouldBeWritingSomethingElse Severus Snape inherited Hermione Granger at three o'clock on a rain-soaked Saturday morning in March. SS/HG HEA...Always :) COMPLETE

One Step Forward, Two Decades Back by corvusdraconis AU/AO: [HG/SS] What-if Story. Hermione Granger gets erased due to a badly phrased, vague, and bitter wish. She is Hermione Granger no more. Now, thanks to Ron, she is Hermione Ankaa Black, sister of Sirius & Regulus Black, & member of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Now what is she going to do? Multiple pairings in later chapters, and JP starts out as a rampaging jerk.

Absinthe by Aurette A dark deed on a dark night sends two lives spinning out of control. To forge a future, both must confront their pasts. AU, EWE, SS/HG, HEA

The Love You Take by Subversa Hermione is cursed by the Death Eaters, and Dumbledore believes Professor Snape is the only one who can help her and keep her safe. Hermione is 18 years old in this story, but she is still a student.

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malkavi-ann · 2 months ago

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When the Truth Hurts. Chapter 7

Elden Ring: Shadow of the Erdtree fanfiction

Rating: Mature (May change in the future)

Relationship: F/M

Pairing: Messmer the Impaler/Original Female Character

Link to Ao3

Chapter 7: The Ritual

TW: Mentions of violence and abuse

The following few guard shifts Brennan and Morgana spent going over the plan. It seemed quite simple: on the day of Brennan’s shift, Morgana needed to get Hilde to come closer to the prayer’s room door. When the Fire Knight was close enough to the small window, she would use one of the enchanted flowers that Brennan would have brought to her earlier. That would put Hilde to sleep for a few hours, and while she would be asleep, Brennan would take the key and get access to the room. After that, they should have enough time to perform the ritual. Again, it sounded pretty simple yet it was still incredibly risky. Needless to say, when Hilde would eventually wake up once the ritual was over, she would have many questions about what had happened to her, and both Brennan and Morgana would be the primary suspects. However, at this point neither of them cared enough about the consequences, and if they were to be questioned, their main strategy would be denial.

On the day of the planned ritual, both Brennan and Morgana were extremely anxious. Neither of them could sleep the night before. Despite having discussed their plan in great detail multiple times, there was still a possibility of something going wrong. Morgana spent the night rehearsing her lines while holding onto the withered purple flower like it was her dearest treasure. She really hoped that this plan would work not for her own sake but mostly for Brennan’s. Deep down Morgana felt sorry for him: he was far away from his home and family which he missed dearly, and there was no certainty about his future. Yet this man was determined to go as far as to disobey orders just to get a glimpse of his past life in his dreams. And Morgana was his only hope, his guide to the world of dreams. How desperate and miserable he must have been here if facing harsh consequences wasn’t a major deterrent to his goal. In a way, his actions were admirable in Morgana’s eyes: Brennan wouldn’t give up on his hopes; thus, she swore to do her best to help him.

The prayer room where Morgana had been locked away was always dark, so it was impossible to tell what time of the day it was. However, having spent almost a month in that room, Morgana learned an approximate schedule of her jailers. The Fire Knight would bring her food a couple of times a day: one around midday and another towards the evening. In between those meals, Hilde would sometimes go away for an hour or two leaving a soldier to guard the cell. Morgana’s task was to make Hilde fall asleep just before the beginning of Brennan’s shift. She was praying that her prepared little speech would grab Hilde’s attention enough to get her close to the window.

It felt like an eternity to wait until her first feeding time but because of the growing anxiety Morgana could barely eat anything. She tried to nibble on some bread but immediately felt so nauseous she thought she would throw up. “No point in forcing myself to eat. I better focus on my part of the plan until the time is right.” She thought to herself trying to suppress the nauseating feeling in her stomach.

The next couple of hours went by in a haze. It was when Morgana heard Hilde’s anxious pacing outside the door that she knew she had to act. Brennan was going to be a bit late to allow her time to engage with the Fire Knight, and Hilde didn’t like it when the guards were late. As Morgana moved closer to the door, she could feel herself trembling. When she was right next to the barred window, she could see her jailer going back and forth in front of the cell. The Fire Knight, who was normally calm and composed, was visibly annoyed that her subordinate wasn’t there to take over the guard duty. “It’s time.” Morgana whispered to herself, took a deep breath and leaned closer to the bars.

“Lady Hilde, may I speak to you?” Morgana said, her shaky voice almost betraying her.

The Fire Knight stopped pacing and glared at the horned woman. The prisoner hardly ever tried to speak to her, let alone addressed her by name in such a direct manner.

“I don’t have time to talk with prisoners.” Her usually cold tone was full of venom this time. The whole situation started to irritate her: Hilde had an important meeting she needed to attend, and that useless guard was late for his shift. She simply couldn’t afford wasting time on idle conversations, especially with the likes of Morgana.

Morgana was expecting resistance, so her next words came out immediately. “Please, it’s an urgent matter that concerns Sir Messmer. I have an important message for him regarding my memories.” Surely, that piece of information was bound to grab her attention.

To Morgana’s relief, it seemed that Hilde’s curiosity was piqued. The Fire Knight took a few steps towards the door but it was still not close enough. “What is it? Spit it out!” Hilde demanded, her commanding tone exhibiting impatience.

There was still some distance between them, so Morgana had to lure her even closer. “It’s quite a private and sensitive matter to talk about. I do not wish to be overheard.” Morgana even lowered her voice to force Hilde to get in her proximity. She knew it was silly, yet she didn’t have many options. All Morgana could do now was pray that her trick would work on Hilde.

”Don’t be stupid, woman. We are alone here.” It was clear that the Fire Knight was losing her patience. Morgana had to choose her next words carefully if she wanted this whole plan to work.

”We may be alone now, but isn’t one of your soldiers supposed to come for the shift any second now? What I have to share with you must not reach the ears of your subordinates. They would lose all respect for Sir Messmer if they heard what I have to say.” Morgana had to bluff and hope that Hilde wouldn’t call it.

There was a brief moment of silence as Hilde was processing what Morgana had just said. Considering the possible link between Morgana and Marika and how it would affect Messmer’s and his army’s morale, she was inclined to believe the horned woman. Sure, it sounded a bit too suspicious to be the truth; however, Hilde would rather be safe than sorry in situations concerning Messmer’s authority.

Morgana’s heart leaped when she heard the Fire Knight sigh deeply. “Fine”, Hilde finally said as she approached the door. This was the perfect moment to make the move. Luckily, Morgana was prepared for it, and when her jailer was practically next to the barred window, she quickly raised her arm and threw the purple powder that was left from the crushed enchanted flower into Hilde’s face. Everything happened so fast, the Fire Knight couldn’t even react. The powder immediately turned into mist, filling her lungs and making her dizzy. Hilde tried to move away and unsheathe her great sword but her limbs refused to obey her. Suddenly her eyes grew heavy, her body went limp, and the last thing she saw before falling asleep was the stone floor of the room.

”It worked!” Morgana exclaimed as she watched Hilde’s body slump on the floor. Now it was Brennan’s turn to fulfill his part of the plan. Luckily, she didn’t have to wait for him too long: Brennan showed up shortly after Hilde fell unconscious with the help of Morgana’s magic. The first thing he did when he approached the female knight was check if she was actually asleep.

“Lady Hilde, can you hear me?” He tried to call out her name to see if she could hear him. Nothing. The Fire Knight was fast asleep, her breathing slow and steady. Brennan looked up to face Morgana, who was getting incredibly anxious on the other side of the door.

”You did it!” His voice was filled with excitement. Things were going according to their plan, and he was going to see his family, even if it was just a dream.

Morgana nodded. “I certainly did, but please hurry up with the key. We mustn’t waste any more time.”

She was right: they needed to act fast before someone stumbled upon Hilde’s body. Brennan quickly grabbed the key ring from the Fire Knight’s pouch and moved towards the door. It didn’t take him long to unlock it and get inside the prayer room. Morgana greeted him with a weak smile; she was sitting on the floor with her cloak resting in her lap. It was unusual for Brennan to see her so up close, and even though she wasn’t standing, she still was quite tall.

”Shall we bring Hilde in? Just in case…” She asked him.

”That’s probably a good idea.” Brennan agreed with the suggestion. It took a couple of minutes to drag Hilde’s body into the room.

“Alright, we should probably begin the ritual.” Morgana said in a hushed voice once Brennan closed the door behind him. “Come here and sit with me.” She said, gesturing to him to move by her side. Brennan didn’t have to be asked twice; he sat next to her, suddenly getting anxious about the ritual.

”Rest your head on my lap. Try to relax and think about what dream you’d like to see.”

He swallowed nervously but followed her instructions anyway. Her cloak fashioned into a pillow was surprisingly soft and smelled like lavender. As he laid down, he felt his eyelids get heavy and a yawn escaped his mouth. Morgana gingerly put her hand on his head.

”Now, close your eyes and take a deep breath”, her voice was soothing like a lullaby. “Think of those who you wish to see. Picture them in your mind’s eye and focus on them for as long as you can”.

Brennan closed his eyes and tried to recollect any memories related to his family. It didn’t take him long to bring back the pictures of his house nestled near a lake. He saw his two children playing outside, their laughter bringing joy in his heart. And then there was his beloved wife, his darling Pauline. He concentrated on her image: her long auburn hair, a sun-kissed round face with freckles, those lovely dimples whenever she smiled. There she was, so close yet so far, existing only in his mind for now.

Meanwhile, Morgana’s eyes turned bright purple as she went into a trance-like state. The familiar interior of the room started to blur as she was on the threshold of the dreamworld. However, she couldn’t step in there yet because Brennan was still awake.

”Brennan, listen to me closely. You will fall asleep on the count of three. Keep focusing on your dream.” She whispered to him. “One. Two. Three.”

And just like that, Brennan fell into the state of slumber, which opened the pathway to the dreamworld for Morgana. It was a sudden yet pleasant transition akin to falling into a soft feathered down bed. In an instant Morgana found herself in a darker version of the prayer room which was now engulfed in a purple mist. The dreamworld felt familiar and welcoming to her despite its gloomy appearance. The air was cool but not uncomfortably cold; it was more like a refreshing breeze filled with the faint aroma of lavender. In the center, Brennan was peacefully snoring on the floor, and above his head there were three dimly glowing orbs just floating in the air. As Morgana slowly approached them, she reached out to one of the orbs. It flickered at her touch and suddenly dissipated, its particles forming into a thin thread. After Morgana repeated the same motion to the other two orbs, she chanted an incantation to commence the most important part of the ritual.

Suddenly, the threads began to move on their own as if they were following the rhythm of the chant. All Morgana had to do now was to guide them as she weaved them into Brennan’s dream. She had done dream weaving before - though she couldn't remember the circumstances - and she was always mesmerized by it: the way the threads were intertwining, forming into a glowing canvas, was like some otherworldly dance, and Morgana was the one staging it. Those threads represented the memories or images that Brennan wanted to see in his dream. Morgana had the ability to peer into the dreams; however, she chose not to for she believed that they were sacred, intimate, and, therefore, had to remain unseen. Thus, she stayed in the dreamworld as a silent guardian of Brennan’s peaceful rest while also admiring her work in solitude.

*** “How could she be late? Lady Hilde is as punctual as a clockwork.” Commander Gaius exclaimed in that thunderous voice of his.

Messmer had to agree with his friend: one of his most loyal Fire Knights would always arrive on time to give reports, and now she had already been 30 minutes late. To put it mildly, it was incredibly unusual for Hilde to be even a tiny bit late. What could have possibly delayed her for that long? His gut feeling was that something was awfully wrong about this whole situation. And he couldn’t shake off the feeling that it was something to do with the prisoner Hilde was guarding.

”I’m going to the Church District.” Messmer said, standing up from his seat. Gaius gaped at him for a moment.

”My lord, we could just send the soldiers down there to check Lady Hilde.” The commander was genuinely confused as to why Messmer had to go there himself.

Messmer turned to his friend as he was about to leave the chamber. ”I have an inkling that our…”guest” might be the reason behind Hilde’s tardiness. We shouldn’t underestimate her and her abilities. Both of us have seen what she is capable of.”

“Hmm, I suppose you’re right.” The albinauric man mumbled to himself as Messmer headed off to Morgana’s cell.

On the way to the prayer room, Messmer was trying to figure out what could have happened to Hilde who was highly skilled in both combat and fire magic. She was certainly not an easy target but Morgana’s powers had proven to be very effective against his people. Besides, he was only aware of one of her abilities; the full extent of her magic was yet to be uncovered. However, there was one thing that didn’t make sense: Messmer had taken away her belongings. Assuming that whatever was in her pouch allowed her to cast her spells, Morgana shouldn’t have been able to inflict sleep on Hilde. Could it have been possible that someone else was helping her somehow?

The mere thought of his people disobeying his orders was infuriating. He had to deal with riots within his ranks before, and it left him with bitter memories. Messmer really hoped that this time it wasn’t the case of rogue soldiers going against him. However, if his suspicions were true, his wrath would be unmatched.

The Church District greeted him with quiet despair and a suffocating stench of mildew. What a shame. It used to be a place of worship where his subordinates could get some peace and quiet, and now it was nothing but a bunch of flooded derelict buildings rotting away in the water. These days only few Fire Knights could be seen patrolling this area; however, on his way to the prayer room, Messmer didn’t encounter anyone. It was quiet. Too quiet.

As he turned around the corner, Messmer saw that his concerns were not unfounded: Hilde was not at her post. Usually, when she had to leave the cell unattended, a guard would have to take over her place. However, there was no one guarding the door, which was a bad sign. Without hesitation, Messmer went straight to the door, and as soon as he approached it, he caught a whiff of the familiar scent of lavender that he’d first encountered when he met Morgana. She must have used her power somehow; maybe taking away her sacred seal wasn’t enough. His serpents hissed in unison as they prepared to face whatever danger was ahead of them.

Without even looking through the barred window, Messmer pushed the door half expecting it to be open. It flung open revealing Hilde’s unconscious body lying on the floor of the room. He hurried inside just to witness Morgana holding in her arms one of his soldiers who was fast asleep. He could feel his blood boil with fury: how could one of his men disobey him like that? Overwhelmed by bloodthirst, he closed the distance and grabbed Brennan by the throat.

Meanwhile, Morgana, who was still in the dreamworld, sensed that something was wrong in the real world. Suddenly, her connection to the dream disappeared as Brennan got forcefully woken up. The sight before her eyes filled her heart and soul with horror: Brennan was struggling for air as Messmer had lifted him up, choking him. The whole room felt hotter as if it was set ablaze by Messmer’s fury. She had to stop him!

”My lord, please let him go!” She pleaded with Messmer but he ignored her cry. In fact, his grip on the soldier’s neck only tightened. Brennan’s eyes rolled back, and his breathing got shallow. He was going to die if Morgana didn’t act fast.

“This foul worm is a traitor. I’ll kill him and put his worthless body on a stake as a warning to everyone, including you”. He hissed, his gaze fixed on poor Brennan, who was fighting for every little bit of air.

His spiteful words brought a horrifying realization upon Morgana: it was her fault that this man was going to die. She could’ve said no to his request, considering how dangerous the whole idea of conducting the dream ritual was. And yet she agreed to this… The events that were unfolding in front of her were nothing but a consequence of her actions. Hot tears welled up in her eyes. It was all her fault, but she wouldn’t let him die like that. If this was her mistake, then Morgana would rather take the punishment herself.

Determined to stop Messmer, Morgana ran up to him and tried to grab his arm but his serpents were quick to react, darting towards her and hissing menacingly. They didn’t attack her, however; their actions were to stop her from interfering. Morgana recoiled instinctively at first but, seeing that the snakes didn’t mean to actively harm her, she moved in closer to look into his eye.

”My lord, it’s all my fault that this happened. This man has done nothing wrong. It was all my idea, and he just followed it.” She didn’t care if she had to lie to save Brennan. Morgana only hoped that Messmer would believe her.

”Please, don’t kill him. He’s innocent!” Her voice faltered as she cried out. “Take my life instead.”

Her plea seemed to work this time because Messmer finally looked at her. And as he did, he froze in place, overwhelmed by the memories he wished to forget.

He was still a young boy when the Hornsent sent several raids on Shaman Village. Every time the Horned Warriors came to the village, they ransacked it, taking some of the shaman women with them. He could hear their blood curdling screams and cries for help as they got dragged to Bonny Village, a wretched place where shamans were tortured and mutilated before they were stuffed into massive jars. Marika would always hide Messmer during those raids but one day they found him.

The memories of those moments still haunted him. Marika was away at that time, collecting medicinal herbs in the nearby forest. A couple of horned warriors barged into their hut while Messmer was waiting for his mother’s return. He tried to run but they were much faster and stronger than him. They called him “abomination” and “monster”; they were telling him how they would flay his skin and then chop him up in pieces. Messmer still remembered how terrified and helpless he was at that moment: he was just a little boy, so all he could do was cry. He also remembered that soon enough his mother returned home. Horrified by the scene in front of her, she darted towards her son, protecting him from the warriors, who seemed to be amused by the poor woman’s actions.

”Please, leave him alone. He’s just a boy!” She begged them to spare her only child but they only laughed at her.

”A bastard child of a whore shaman woman is still good enough meat for the jar. Maybe we’ll stuff both of you in the same one.” One of them sneered as he approached Marika and grabbed her by the hair, pulling her away from crying Messmer.

”Please, he’s innocent. Take me instead.” She looked into her torturer’s face despondently. Marika was terrified but she would rather suffer herself than let her son die by the hands of those vile Hornsent.

The men exchanged looks before speaking up. ‘Fine. We’ll have fun with you instead. And the little one will watch.”

They beat her up so badly that she was bedridden for a few weeks. They kept her alive because they knew she was a healer; they told her once her bruises and wounds healed up, they’d come back for more.

Marika’s bloodied face and her final words got etched into Messmer’s memory. And now as he was looking at Morgana, her face red from crying, he could see his mother again, begging him to spare someone’s life. At that moment, he was the torturer, the bloodthirsty monster, similar to those disgusting Horned warriors. He released his grasp, and Brennan collapsed on the floor, coughing profusely as he was trying to breathe freely again.

Morgana stopped crying and looked at Messmer with gratitude. She really began to lose hope but the sudden change in his behavior brought her some relief. She did notice the sadness in his face as he released Brennan from his grasp. Just a moment ago he was filled with anger but now he looked sorrowful as if he realized that he was about to take an innocent life without fair judgement.

”Thank you, my lord.” She tried to express her gratitude but Messmer didn’t seem to hear her. Or perhaps he didn’t care for it. He was just staring at her with that look of sorrow.

”Don’t thank me for that.” He finally snapped out of his stupor. “I might’ve spared his life for now but he still deserves punishment for insubordination.” He threw a look of disgust towards Brennan, who was still gasping for air.

”And you,” he turned to Morgana, “you will be questioned. I’ll see to it myself. Now, I need you to wake Hilde up.”

Morgana did as he asked, and in an instance Hilde woke up. She tried to get up, groaning and holding the side of her head, but as soon as she caught a glimpse of Morgana, her whole demeanor changed.

”You…,” she hissed angrily, “you did this. I’ll make you pay for this.”

When she tried to move closer to Morgana, Messmer stood in front of her. ”Lady Hilde, I need you to take this traitor to the most isolated dungeon in the Keep. Give him the dirtiest, most difficult job you can find. Make his existence as miserable as possible. I don’t care if he lives or dies but he needs to learn his lesson. I’ll deal with Morgana myself”.

”Of course, my lord.” As livid as she was, Hilde couldn’t let feelings prevent her from following orders. As such, she forced Brennan to leave the room and escorted him to the deepest dungeon of the Shadow Keep. From now on, his fate was sealed.

#elden ring #elden ring messmer #fanfic #fantasy #messmer the impaler #original character #shadow of the erdtree #slow burn #angst #memory loss #dreams #dreaming

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