#ebenezer scrooge is a reader insert!!

[bastard-sweet]

The point of A Christmas Carol was not to teach morals by example; it was to teach morals directly. Ebenezer Scrooge was specifically made to be a reader insert. The lessons of A Xmas Carol can mostly be divided into 'you don't want to be this guy (he's suffering)' and 'you don't want to be this guy (he's evil, like ultimately, Biblically, very un-Xtian)', afforded by the third category of Basically Everything In The Book 'you don't want to be this guy anymore (he's deeply relatable to the upper-class Victorians the book is targeted at)'. The fact that he doesn't spend money on himself is not a sign that he needs to care for himself more; it's to show that he's so greedy to the point that it is useless, to show that valuing money this much is bad and senseless. The fact that he were to die if he didn't change for the better is an example of Cosmic punishment. Maybe the story does have a hint of teaching Scrooge to take care of himself, but that's only for the same reason that Scrooge is given a 'workaholic billionaire' backstory. The rich like(d) to see themselves as hard-working, and were the target audience, and Dickens didn't want to insult his target audience while trying to teach them basic human decency. So he also took the opportunity to slot that into the 'you don't want to be this guy (he's suffering)' method of teaching.

#that post just frustrates me so i decided to write out my thoughts #ebenezer scrooge is a reader insert!! #a christmas carol #also charles dickens' mindset at the time of writing is fascinating to think about. a xmas carol was written in response to a government #report on the conditions of mines factories and mills for child labourers (which before writing charles dickens also conducted his own #investigation i think). dickens vowed he would deliver a 'sledge-hammer's blow on behalf of the Poor Man's child' #and xmas carol is... not that. from a 2023 perspective it feels really toothless actually. it's about a guy who learns about the magic of #xmas and being nice to poor people. but thats because it's not MEANT to be a sledge-hammer's blow clearly. he reconsidered #and wrote a persuasive letter and it's actually really interesting to pick apart! so there's my recommendation #and regarding accusations of antisemitism: dickens probably was really i havent really read many of his works outside of school so. #but the book is pretty (n yes pretty is doing a lot of legwork here) divorced from that. its antisemitic but thats mostly #because it uses classical Xtian models of morality (eg celebrating xmas) to equate not celebrating xmas to cruelty to show how bad cruelty #is. not to equate cruelty to non-xtianity to show how bad non-xtianity is. yes theres some fucked use of carciature but the antisemitism #i read as very casual? like nowadays. its hooked nose = evil. antisemitism was absolutely not the intent at all its just very much an #artifact of its time. which. i dont think anyones learning nazism from ACC. its not challenging antisemitism but. most books dont even now #sweet talkin' #long tags #sweet whisperin' #charles dickens #classism

[a-gal-with-taste]

Certainties & Mistletoe

Summary: Mistletoe, the only decoration the old bastard could bear to stand during the winter-months. You thought it harmless, simple and almost forgettable... but the event it causes, is anything-but.

Ebenezer Scrooge & F!Reader | 2469 Words | AO3

Part 2 | Part 3

Tags: Oneshot, mistletoe-troupe, humor, internal-thoughts, boss/employee relationship, pre-prelationship, first-kiss, pining (??), Scrooge being a grump (shocker), open-ended, haven't watched the movie, just think Scrooge is kinda-

A/N: I have. No excuse. But blame @sweatandwoe and Netflix anyways, because they had no rights, but caused this anyways.

Upmost in certainty, were these three facts:

One, that Ebenezer Scrooge was the richest man in this district of London.

Two, that Ebenezer Scrooge was the most miserable, selfish, cold-hearted miser in the district, possibly in the country, certainly within the distract.

And three, that Ebenezer Scrooge kissed sweetly enough, that one could nearly forget the prior two-facts.

Or, rather... the Master Ebenezer didn't exactly kiss you back. In fact he didn't little much of anything, and remaining-still as you pressed your own lips, delicate as the falling-flecks of white, to his.

Was it a mistake? Undoubtedly.

Foolish? Certainly, you could be out in a slum-house come tomorrow morning, dismissed in disgrace.

But, the mistletoe... oh, it was silly, but the it had looked so inviting! Berries casted soft glow in the nearby light of lanterns, spiked leaves untouched with frost.

The one-decoration the old bastard had enough paitence to withstand, and of course, it had been your demise. Like the temptation of the apple, like the god of hell-itself beckoning, you had almost been eager to lean-forth towards your doom.

Foolish, stupid, silly mistake, one that could ruin you.

And yet, you didn't pull back.

And neither did he.

From the moment you had spoken his name, soft as snow's first-fall on the porch, the sole movement Ebenezer managed, before you cupped a hand over a sturdy, well-trimmed cheek, stood high on the tip of your toes, and sealed your fate by pressing his lips to your own.

He had yet to pull back.

Yet to move entirely, speak, or... frankly, you feared he lost the ability to breathe.

Ironically, it was that fact that finally convinced you to retract from the man. Not the fact this was Master Scrooge, nor even that your future was as uncertain as a ship traversing through rock-laden waters onto certain doom...

But the fact that your simple kiss, had been enough to completely halt the miser entirely.

Heels kiss the ground in silence, as open your eyes to gaze at the looming man, who, indeed, was in some-sort of state of inanimation. More frozen than an hanging-icicle, your gaze flicked from an unrising-chest, tightly-pursed lips, eyes sightlessly staring-forth, and a distinct lack of pale-clouds emanating from mouth or nostrils.

One could almost fear the kiss had been enough to kill him.

You, however, always preferred being of the optimistic-sort, if a bit realistic.

Assuming the less-dire, you took another step back, and spoke as if Ebenezer was still residing well-into the land of conscious thought and reality, and not clearly miles-away in snowy clouds. "Forgive me, sir. That was a poor-choice, and you have my sincerest apology for my action, I... I have no excuse."

Well, there was one excuse. But you could hardly blame a decorative plant.

Speaking of it, though it was a bit of a strain, your fingers tugged the innocent, demonic little pest from the doorway free. The ribbon it was attached to fluttered simply to the ground, but you dared not stoop to pick it up - instead, placing the plant in the certain of your palm, you held it out between yourself and your employer.

A peace offering.

Though this was an event that was anything but peaceful, you still held out the offending object with a brief smile, one that wobbled at the corners. Not just with the shivers of your body, but with the slow-looming knowledge of what you had just done, and what it would cost you.

What was the price, of a simple kiss?

Scrooge, a most professional businessman, would surely be able to tell you. But he seemed rather strained with words, speech made entirely impossible even as life resumes within him, thank God...

He is able to blink. Twice, before his eyes dropped down to yours, than down to what was effectively, the murder-weapon of your current employment in your palm, before his mouth moved to form a single-word:

"What."

"I'm sorry," You said again, shaky smile fading, but the trembling of your lips moved instead to reside your voice. "I-i... there is no excuse. I can only offer an apology, which I do... I do so quite, quite heartily, Mister Scrooge."

Worrying at your bottom lip, your own eyes followed the same trajectory as his own. Darting from his unreadable, unblinking eyes, and those damning plump-red berries held aloft in your gloved-palm.

Something wet, almost burning in comparison to the winter's chill, began to prick at the back of your eyelids, before finally, large and dark-clad gloves decended down onto your hand.

Pinching the culprit between his fingers like a sixpence, when he raised it to eyelevel for inspection, you dropped your own gaze to settle down near the ground. You couldn't help noting how perfectly his boots gleamed in a somber-black, causing the snowflakes that fell upon it to be in a perfect outline.

A distraction. Welcomed, but you roused yourself from it to face reality, even if you kept your gaze well-averted.

"I shall pack upon the morrow, if it suits you," You whispered, words trapped on a small cloud of frigid air, and releasing near-silently between you both. "You shant see me again, Master Scrooge, if it is in your desire... I fear that is the minimal I can offer for my transgression. I'm sorry. P-please... please accept it, as my truest apology."

"... ahem."

You raised your gaze, now truly stinging with the weight of water at your lashes, but a singular blink was quick to ease them away. Despair faded, replaced by confusion at the... oddest expression on the face of Ebenezer Scrooge.

He had turned away from you, unsurprisingly. Perhaps he couldn't stomach the sight of such unruly behavior from an otherwise acceptable-maid, but had a rather fixated-attention on the small branch of green and red in his fingers.

And, apparently, on his collar.

He was adjusting it, clearing his throat periodically, as his attention remained averted from your own growing-bewilderment, and remained steadfast on loosening his tight-cravat.

"... Master?"

Another clearing of his throat. Without the guide of his facial-expression, you were unable to discern his exact emotions at this given-moment, but you deduced that it was a scoff of acknowledgement, and attempted to salvage yourself once-more.

"I... shall guess you will have me return-early, to do a days work before my final departure? Or shall I, perhaps, remain the evening so-as to prepare for my replacement on the morrow-"

Unlikely he would find-one willing enough to work for the miser, even with the steady-promise of coin, but it was a possibility quickly-forgotten with his sudden-snap, like a whip of words.

"What foolishness. You think I shall take-up the duster, the broom in your absence?"

You blinked. The dust had been nearly an inch-thick on your first day of working, you half-imagined the man didn't know such objects of cleaning existed. "I... I only thought-"

"-that I would discard a perfectly-suitable maid?  Bah, don't be absurd." You were not exempt from the trademark scorn that caused many in London to wince at the mere-mention of the name Scrooge, but it was... muted?

Certainly not softer, and lacking even the basics of kindness, but... you did not flinch. Only blinked, and quietly asked the man what he would like you to do now.

The dark, rich leather-gloves creaked as his pinched-fingers tightened sharply on the deep-emerald stalk. Silence reigned, in a muted-world where little existed, save for the soft-falling snow, the two of them, and the mistletoe in his grasp.

Then, after another strange clearing of his throat, Scrooge brought words into the small, trapped-reality the two of you shared.

"What would like, is for you to go home," He commanded sharply. "And ensure my coin is put to good use, by arriving back here on the morrow, on-time."

You blinked. "You... would like me to return? Even after-"

"Was it not what I said?" Ebenezer interrupted, voice even sharper than before... no. Now it bordered on shrill, something choked. "You certainly won't be if you were to catch a chill, a likely consequence if you were to remain-out any longer on this night."

It's a dismissal, but one that barely registers until he jerks his head back, briefly facing you with the gesture.

The sight of cheeks, dusted in a deep-pink besides his well-trimmed salt-and-pepper sideburns, is enough to make you blink. Certaiy, the chill is enough to coax a darker-shade onto one's skin, and you know that you have some frost-nipped skin of your own, but Scrooge's shade was enough to worry you.

Others might dance a jig at the thought of old Ebenezer Scrooge catching a chill, long-standing karma being served at last, but a burst of worry still resides within you.

The thought of ailment or illness befalling the gentleman, even if that gentleman was Scrooge, was enough to grant you concern at the sight of reddened-cheeks. Emotion outfitted sense, as you stepped forward. "Sir, are you quite well-?"

"Go home," He snapped, the sound harsh and reverberating through gritted teeth. More akin to a growl of a hunter than man, causing you, the prey, frozen in your steps with wide-eyes. "I hardly plan to pay you for remaining later-hours, and I will still expect you upon the morrow without delay. It would be, in your upmost best interest, to leave."

A dismissal.

Ebenezer Scrooge was... letting you off, with only a dismissal.A mere be-gone for the evening, no different than any other you have received in the days-past, if a little more scornful than the rest.

You'd be a fool not to take this gift, perhaps the only the old bastard could provide - absolution, an escape from this humiliation transgression.

You would be a fool not to take it. Yet, you're the kind of fool to hesitate.

Not long - you don't have a death-wish, despite recent actions may otherwise suggest - but after another moments' pause to study the man, you hesitated curstied in obedient politeness, gathering your skirts high-enough to step down the ice-slick porch-steps.

You had little fear of falling, having traversed this walk on the daily, but some part of you felt quite uncertain.

As if the axis of the world has shifted, in some form or the other, and you walked down the steps with uncertainty of what exactly it was.

And how different your world would look, come morning.

For the moment, longing to remain in normalcy, you turned and called back your quiet, routine salutations to the Master - or rather his back. He had yet to face you fully.

"Good-night, Mister Scrooge."

Stepping down the lane with a tug of your shawl tighter around you, the streetlamp you pass-by offers temporary warmth, refuge from the uncertainty and the unsteadiness beneath your feet...

"Good-night."

... which became only more unsturdy beneath your heels, at the sound of Ebenezer Scrooge, the most miserable man in town, wishing you a good night.

Unheard of.

Inconceivable.

The gentleman had never provided you with a pleasantry in all the time you've known him, and yet now, it's offered in a way that could almost be described, daresay, as soft.

A sharp turn, harsh pivot, that miraculously doesn't send you sprawling onto the ice-slick path, but it's too late. The click of the cane on cobble is enough to signal his retreat, and the sight of his back, shawl catching on a snowy-breeze, is enough to confirm his escape before you can question it.

Before you can question if it had even happened at all, or if the snow-filled wind carried words as well as ice.

Perhaps you had fallen into madness - surely, the only true explanation for your lapse in good-sense in the first-place.

It was a more pleasing thought, than whatever it could possible mean that Scrooge felt the urge to offer a nicety after such transgression, and one you worked-steadfast of to convincing yourself at, all the way to your small apartment several blocks over.

It was the one-comfort you found, once dressed and tucked beneath your sheets. The solace was well-suited for your buzzing mind, the delusion that his parting-words were merely something of illusion enough to send you into a restful-sleep.

So restful, that you quite nearly forgot the incident entirely upon return to the waking-world.

Certainly, the motification remained in regards to your own-actions, which you were certain had occurred in reality. There came moments when your lips seemed to recall a soft, unfamiliar presence when memories returned of the incident, ensuring you did not forget it.

Apology, one in daylight and well-rehearsed to display true remorse, was well in-order.

You also suspected such would put your mind to ease. While the gentleman had seemed keen to erase the moment in the minutes-following, you resigned to put the event of transgression well-out of your mind, as well as the impossibility of good-night that had followed, and an assurance that such behavior would never transpire-again.

Closing the chapter entirely, and forgetting it's contents.

Including the one where you imagined Ebenezer Scrooge, of all people, wishing you a good-night.

Absurdity!

Such fantasy was only liable and expected to be forgotten entirely, in order to move-forward in life. And when you stepped into his buisness the following-morning, you had intended to do just that. Begin to forget the fact that you had kissed Ebenezer Scrooge, and in response, he had bid you good-night.

That had been your plan.

Your first-step towards normalcy, the first stride back into stability, and you had taken it into his office with an optimistic smile hinting at your face, as you pushed open the door.

Your plan to move-past the incident was foiled immediately, when you opened the door to the man's office.

Catching sight of that same accursed sprig of spiked-green and perfect red-berries, atop Mister Ebenezer Scrooge's otherwise entirely plain-desk, and settle in a filled-glass of water.

Preserving the event with it's allowed continued existence.

And once-more shifting reality into realms uncertain, when steele-blue raise from endless inspection of the cut-plant, to entourage gaze in an examination of equal-intensity.

The gaze neutralized. Becoming safely familiar, even as the words that followed, were not.

"Good morning."

And you realized, it would not be so-easy to return to what reality had been. Before the night prior where you had taken the apple, the hand-to-hell, in the form of following the practice of mistletoe.

Because, there was now no possibility to return from when-once-you-came.

A fact solidified, when you opened your mouth, and whispered in-repeat words you never thought such a miserable man was capable of saying to you...

"Good morning."

... but the fact that he did, was a fact that confirmed that change was here, like the days' fresh-blanket of cool snow upon the city of London.

A change refreshing, despite the uncertainty it held for the winter ahead.

#how could netflix do this? #scrooge: a christmas carol #scrooge 2022 #scrooge 2022 x reader #ebenezer scrooge #scrooge x reader #netflix #reader insert #this is only 50% joke #guess what the other 50% is #fanfic #female reader #scrooge fanfic #writing #christmas

[cleake]

Concerns

I wrote this at midnight, so please excuse any mistakes. I just want to let this man know that he’s good, and maybe kiss his hand.

Warning: English is not my first language

You and Ebenezer had been living together for some time. At first, it was strange, because you two didn’t think of it much. You just moved to Scrooge's house after he offered you this opportunity. You’ve known each other for quite some time, you were there witnessing how Ebenezer had changed throughout the years. You were always by his side and he felt it was an understatement to call you a “friend”. You were there when he prepared a Christmas party for his close ones after years, it was so nice to see how happy he finally was. On that day he offered you to stay with him, and you accepted his offer. It was so natural for both of you, you didn’t think of it much. But after some time it struck you, maybe you two were not just good friends but none of you would admit it to themselves. You two spent a lot of time together, from the moment you shared breakfast to the late-night talks. You two walked around the streets of London, hand in hand, talking about everything you two could. Ebenezer made a lot of effort to show you how important you were to him, by buying you gifts, taking you to the places you dreamed of visiting, and listening to your every word. He felt so much warmth when he was with you, the smallest things about you made him tingle inside. He didn’t feel that way for a long time, and he was afraid that he would lose you too if he didn’t try harder. You were so good to him, so nice, peaceful, kind, empathetic, soft his heart would melt. He felt that he needed to be close to you, his hands wanted to feel yours, he wanted to give you everything, he wanted to hold you in his arms forever. But he was afraid of doing so, he didn’t want to scare you away from him, he would break if you left him because of his fault. So he enjoyed the image of you and appreciated every moment you two shared.

But you wanted to know, to be certain that this is only friendship. You didn’t want to have your hopes high for something that never was there.

You slowly walked to Ebenezer's door to his office, he was working this evening, leaving you as politely as he could. You felt like you would explode from uncertainty, you wanted to know now. You knocked on the door, and a muffled “come in” followed. You entered the room, seeing Scrooge's eyes already on you.

“Y/N, is everything alright?” he asked, putting his quill down. You walked closer to his desk.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“Alright, I’m listening,” he said standing up from his armchair. You take a shaky breath, before speaking.

“Lately I’ve been feeling confused about our relationship, Ebenezer.”

Scrooge looked at you with raised eyebrows, something in his chest has risen. He was scared of this conversation, he thought you may want to leave. He would understand if you wanted to leave him for yourself, but he wanted to know if he did everything right.

“Yes…I see,” he whispered, gazing at the floor

“Please tell me how you see us,” you said, playing with your hands. The man’s eyes focused back at you, there was some kind of fear inside of them, and his breath sharpened. He slowly forced a smile on his lips.

“I truly admire you, Y/N. I see you as someone I can trust with everything, I know that you’ll listen to me and are willing to help me in any form. I think you’re an honorable human being, and I would be honored if you wanted to stay with me here.” he answered, putting his hands behind his back.

You looked at him with slightly frowned eyebrows.

“I understand that, Ebenezer. I know that. But I want to know… Do you see me as a friend, and if only as a friend.”

Ebenezer perused his lips and hung his head down.

“I am afraid to reveal my feelings toward you, Y/N.”

“Would you do it if I told you first what I think of you?” you asked, and Scrooge raised his head again.

“It would bring me some peace.”

You nodded slightly and took a deep breath, closing your eyes.

“I have known you for years, Ebenezer, I saw every side of you, and I wanted every one of them. I learned that you were something I needed close to me. I think that you are a great man, I think you are a lovely man. I want to stand by your side and help you with my greatest efforts. I feel safe with you, I feel connected to you. I want you. I adore you, Ebenezer.”

Scrooge stood there, your words hitting him. His lips were slightly parted, and his winded eyes were focused on you, thin tears showing in the light. He bearly breathed, everything stood in silence. Finally, Ebenezer took a sharp breath, his eyes softening a little bit. He felt so much warmth, so much love it made his hands shake. Every thought that made him believe he was no good for you abruptly left him, with so much lightless staying in him.

“Oh… Oh, my dear.” he breathed out, slowly walking towards you, with his hands slightly raised. When he stood next to you, he didn’t know what to do, his hands were too tense to hold you, he just looked at you, a small smile on his lips. He forced his hand to lean over your cheek, but he stopped. With a sob, he collapsed into your arms, which made you jump a little bit. Holding the man in your arms you heard small sobs from him with muffled mumbling.

“Ebenezer,” you whispered, gently putting your hand on the back of his neck. He felt your warm touch on his skin, which made him feel so much at once. He was happy, truly, but he felt like he didn’t deserve this from you, your love, or your friendship. His forehead was resting on your shoulder, his fingers delicately grasped your hand, touching your skin slightly, afraid of bigger moves. You took his hand fully which made him gasp.

Ebenezer slowly raised his head and looked at you, tears falling from his eyes onto his cheeks. Your hand gently leaned on his cheek, wiping the tears.

“I’m so sorry.” he choked out, wiping his eyes from the tears.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, putting your hand on his waist “don’t be ashamed of me, I understand everything.”

Ebenezer smiled at you and laughed nervously, his hand leaning over yours, still afraid to touch you fully.

“Don’t be afraid, I truly meant everything I said,” you say, caressing his cheek.

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” he said, looking away from you “I just feel, that you may be too good for me to call ‘mine’.”

“I allow you to call me ‘yours’, and I will call you ‘mine’ if you agree to that.”

Ebenezer shook his head slightly, before coming into your arms, his own around you, hugging tightly as if you were to disappear at any moment.

“I-I love you,” he said trying to cover his tears.

“I love you, Ebenezer,” you replied, and pulling away from the hug you took his face in your hands. The man leaned to your touch, with closed eyes, enjoying how warm your hands were. When he looked at you, he saw how your eyes gazed upon his lips. You were slowly coming closer to Ebenezer, your noses touching. His eyes were focused on your every move.

“May I?” you asked when his lips were a few breaths away from yours.

“Please,” he whispered, closing his eyes. He felt how your soft lips landed on his, he gasped slightly at how it felt to have you this close. He felt like running away, but your touch on his waist calmed him down. Your lips slowly left him, Ebenezer slowly opened his eyes, missing the feeling of your lips. He looked at you, you were still close, holding him to yourself.

“Thank you,” he said, taking your hands in his, he brought them to his lips, kissing them softly. You smiled at Ebenezer, feeling full, with no concerns in you.

#x reader #reader insert #scrooge netflix #ebenezer scrooge #ebenezer scrooge x reader #scrooge x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #my fanfiction #come get yall food #i love this man #i want him #thank you #I just know he’s touch starved

[xxkiller-muffinxx]

༺But it can heal, if you learn from it. Pt 2༻

Pairing: Ebenezer Scrooge x reader

Summary: on the way to the party, (Y/N) recalls a few more painful memories of the past, but an old friend makes her feel better.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: mention of death, and angst with a happy ending.

A/N: please make more of these you guys, Scrooge is MWAH and I want to encourage people to start writing. Lastly thank you all for the love on the last part, you're all amazing <3 Just realized I may have forgotten to accommodate for Hela’s accent and I apologize dearly.

Pt. 1 “yes, the past can hurt”

(Y/N) fastened her coat on as she stared at herself in the mirror. She couldn’t help but stare at herself as she thought long and hard about the situation.

“Scrooge doesn’t bite, it’s just your imagination ruining you.” She straightens her coat and turns to the bonnet on the bed Hela left her. She rolled her eyes, (Y/N) was never fond of bonnets.

A memory filled her mind as she went to put it on.

———

A bonnet tied around (Y/N)’s neck for the first time made Ebenezer laugh. He’d never seen you with such a deep scowl, and it was quite silly. “What’s the matter? It looks good!” Ebenezer played with her as if she was a coned dog.

To reciprocate these feelings she snaps at Ebenezer, the two children giggling to themselves. “Sneezer, I would tear this thing apart if I could.” Ebenezer walked up and adjusted it for her. (Y/N) faking her lack of oxygen which scares Ebenezer. “(Y/N)!” He grabs her, and she just falls limp for a moment, before springing to life and Scaring her friend. Ebenezer’s glare slowly molds into an amused chuckle.

———

(Y/N) adjusted the Bonnet, discomfort rings through her body, but she continues her pat down. She ran her hands over her face, and down her arms once more. There was a knock at the door. “Come in!” (Y/N) yelled to the person behind the door. The door creaks open, and Hela makes her presence known.

“You look splendid! Harry and I are ready when you are!” She spun out of the room. (Y/N) smiled. They’re made for each other. (Y/N) turns to the mirror ahead of her. Ebenezer would laugh and tell her she looked ridiculous, while Scrooge? she’d admit she had no idea what he’d say. Whatever it’d be, it'd be different.

The room is quiet, and (Y/N) feels a chill, a giggle echoes through her ears, a giggle that wasn’t her own. She turns violently. Leaning her back on the mirror behind her. The fear linger’s until Hela calls her name. She adjusts her dress again and walks off. She exits the room, seeing Harry with his wife. She joins him.

They walk together, the sky lit beautifully over the town, and Hela walks by (Y/N)‘s side while holding her hand. “I’m sorry to be bringing this up so early on, especially since you woke up not but 20 minutes ago.” She apologizes, but (Y/N) waved her hand dismissively.

Hela looks up at her husband, he seems more focused on the fact he’s getting the chance to get closer to his uncle. Hela smiles at her husband and turns back to (Y/N) “I can’t help but wonder that can’t be all that happened. Right?”

“What do you mean?” (Y/N) responded.

Hela’s eyebrows fall flat above her eyes, and she leans toward her, “I mean what happened between you and Scrooge.” (Y/N) scoffed. Hela threw her hands to her side and turned to her husband, grabbing his arm gently. She whispers something to him, and suddenly he’s gone.

Hela sits with (Y/N), causing her to feel rather nostalgic. “Tell me, what else happened, because if asking about his sister is really what took him to the edge, I’ll be angry.” Hela’s hand fell on top of (Y/N)’s. “Please.” She begs. It doesn’t take long until (Y/N) gives in with a defeated huff.

———

(Y/N) stayed in town for days, sending as frequent letters to her husband as possible. Until one day, she got a letter back expecting her return. So she began to write a letter addressed to the chap.

“Dear Ebenezer, I apologize if my last visit upset you, and I wish we could be friends once more. However things are looking poor for the both of us, and may I say I’m sorry for your loss, on all accounts. I wish I could have been there to help you.”

She wondered if she should stop there, but her eyes widened. She won’t ever see him again, and that meant she had to make one last impression. So she did.

“Yet, wishes aren’t important anymore, as the past is the past. So I must look to the future, and to do that I need to admit a few things so they may stay in my past. First things first, you’ve always been my best friend, the greatest ever, and nothing will change that. However, I’ve come to notice a pattern with you that scares me. You’re filled with greed Ebenezer, and I have to say it’s not your fault.

Next, this will be hard to say. As it contrasts a few of my earlier feelings, and I still do not know what happened to Isabel, or between the two of you. Just know how much you mean to me. For we may never see each other again, and I need you to know.”

Her breath caught in her throat, what is the feeling, how does one describe it without losing the trust of a friend? Without..?

“I adore you?” (Y/N) whispers, but that’s not it is it? She’s afraid of the 3 words she’d give her mother or father, but she also knows it’s nothing less than such. How to explain? She can only try.

“Every morning when I wake up, even if it’s not about you, or even if you’re not anywhere close, you're somewhere in my mind, making the day better. Every morning, noon, and night, from sunrise to the next full moon. You’ve meant more to me than most others I can name, and the words I’m looking for are not in my vocabulary just yet. Until they are, I hope to see you again.

Your dear friend,

(Y/N)”

———

“You wrote all that?” Hela speaks as soon as (Y/N) goes quiet. She sighs looking at the time. “We only have so long, Hela. I can’t keep telling you these stories.” (Y/N) begins to stand when Hela taunts her playfully.

“You can’t? Or won’t?”

(Y/N) stares at Hela in shock. “Hela, dear I just don’t know. I’ve already shared so much.” She politely laughed. Hela obliged, standing up. She takes a few steps forward and offers a hand to (Y/N). She takes it. “If you don’t want to share, I’ll honor that, but now we must find Harry, we only have 30 minutes!” She twirls her friend before running off, (Y/N) smiling and following her.

When they found Harry, he was already waiting in front of Scrooge’s home. Hela and Harry began to speak as (Y/N) became lost in thought.

—---

(Y/N) stood at the door to her friend’s home, and squeezed the letter in her palms tightly. She pondered knocking, leaving the letter, or just walking away with it, never having to deal with the consequences.

She would have stood there for hours if not a voice came from beside her. “(Y/N)?” she turned to the voice. “M-Mr. Scrooge, it's good to see you again! Well, that is if it's good for you to see me.” she anxiously twiddled with her thumbs and the edge of the paper envelope.

The man seemed to ignore her presence, and walk past her as he entered his house. “Ebenezer?” he stood at the door, pinching the bridge of his nose once more. He had to be too tired to correct her.

Scrooge’s eyes, now a deep grayish-blue, pierce (Y/N)’s skin. “What is it?” he said coldly. (Y/N) leans back a little, staring up at his face. He has newly shaped bags under his eyes, and his face seems to be permanently under stress.

(Y/N) slowly stammered into her next words. “I was just. Meaning to deliver this letter, before I go home tomorrow night.” She hands him the letter. She gasps silently when it's ripped out of her hands. He lets it hang at his side as he watches her. “Well? What now?” his gruff voice rings in her ears.

“Ebenezer, can we please have a word, it'll be quick.”

“Mr.Scrooge.”

“Mr. Scrooge, please.” her voice quivers, and when Scrooge looks her in the eyes, he sighs. Urgelessly letting her inside. Scrooge takes off his coat and rests it on the coat rack. (Y/N) looks around, he really has gotten richer. “Mr. Scrooge, we've missed so much time in the years I’ve been gone, can’t we just chat?” Scrooge turns to her. Crossing his arms.

“(Y/N). I don’t have time to simply “chat.” I have work to do, rest to have.” He awaits for (Y/N) to leave before he goes upstairs. “So what can we do? I just want to be near my friend for a while longer.” She says sincerely.

Scrooge has one hair loose from the top of his head, it falling over his face, and his long body Patiently stands across from her, his shoulders tense and his jaw clenched, But his eyebrows relaxed now that he’s inside.

(Y/N) stood almost completely still in the heavy atmosphere, a weight falling into her chest as she opened her mouth. “If you, I want to get done quickly. Tell me why you pushed me away. Years later? Mr.Scrooge we’re friends, I’m here if you need me.” She takes a step toward Scrooge, his eyebrows furrowing, and he mirrors her actions. “(Y/N) we were friends, but now what are we? You left me and Isabel without much of a second thought. Her mother had to tell us.” He says. His tolerance running thin.

Was that it? Just because you never told him you were leaving. “I’m sorry, but to admit I had no time, and I couldn’t bear saying goodbye.” Scrooge frowned deeply.

“Why couldn’t you just have said something before?”

“My father was telling me to continue talking to my now husband. So I had no time!”

“You had time for a dinner party then? Hm?”

“My father said it’d be a good bonding experience, I wanted to go alone.”

Scrooge’s face was complex, it just couldn’t be read, not like (Y/N)’s anyhow. (Y/N) knew it was mostly anger, but there was something about it that said something else to her. It became clear once Scrooge spoke again.

Scrooge takes a few steps closer to her. “Your husband, is he happy? Are you?” He looks down at her, he’s worried for her, and he has been for so long. (Y/N)’s hands drop to her sides.

(Y/N) clenched her teeth. “Yes, we both are.” Lying through her teeth. Old Ebenezer would take that for what it is, but this new man, with his money and his coats, somehow knew it all. “Did you lie to me?”

(Y/N) laughs awkwardly, “No? Why would I lie?”

“You laugh when you’re lying (Y/N)” Scrooge says simply. “You’ve never been happy around him.” (Y/N) realizes that he’s been getting closer, but doesn’t feel the need to point it out. A gnawing pain in her head doesn’t help what’s happening.

She turns away from him and begins mildly pacing back and forth in the room. “You don’t know me, Scrooge, I’ve grown, maybe our love has too.”

Scrooge scoffs at such an answer. He watches her pace, making his next point “Well, why don’t you say it then, that you love Him.” she looks at him and stares in shock.

“I…can’t she stops.” She stops in her tracks, Scrooge looks at her.

“Why not?”

“Because… it doesn’t matter why. You tell me about Isabel first.”

“Why can’t you say it? Is it because you don’t love him?”

“No! It’s because those words scare me.”

“It’s your husband.”

“He might as well be my flatmate.”

Scrooge’s eyebrows raise at that last remark. He walks toward her slowly “you don’t love him. Be honest.” (Y/N) stepped back. She huffs out air as she walks “no, I don’t, but it’s not my fault.” she says quickly. Her leg hits the railing of stares. She moves beside it to have more room to go back.

Scrooge doesn’t seem to take that statement clearly. He laughs deeply “not your fault? What do you mean by that.” She sighs as she hits a wall. “Because it’s yours.” Scrooge continues to follow her onto the wall. The world seems so small now. “(Y/N), how in the world could it be my fault?” (Y/N) is pressed into a corner, Scrooge hovering above her.

“Because I love you!”

Three words. Well, literally four, but those three words she was afraid to say before, came out in a flurry of anxiety, sadness, anger, and even somewhat grief. The two stood in that corner for a moment more. Their silence floated amongst the large space. “Ebenezer I- I’m sorry.” She looks down. Scrooge’s eyes widen, and suddenly his bright blue eyes spark to life.

He steps back, and (Y/N) breathes heavily. Ebenezer never takes his eyes off of her. “(Y/N)...I-” a voice from outside caught their attention calling out to the woman. She walks up to him. Her face falls flat as she asks him “Scrooge, I meant that. If you care at all.” his eyes soften on her as he gently grabs a hold of her waist, hugging her. Resting his head on top of hers.

She hugs him back, knowing who she’s hugging. When Ebenezer pulls back, she looks up at him, his hands still on her waist. Their eyes meet, and his eyes move down to her lips. (Y/N) feels heat rise to her face as her eyes fall to his as well. Scrooge gently leaned down, kissing her lips softly, but passionately. It lasts for nearly 30 seconds before Ebenezer pulls back.

Scrooge turns away. “You should go.” (Y/N) leans forward to get back into his arms, but Scrooge continues walking away. “Scrooge.” He stops, and with a sad, disgruntled frown he weakly repeats himself. Pushing his hair back in the process “Mr. Scrooge, now leave. Before I say anything You regret.”

So she turns, looking away from the man that took up so much room in her mind for far too long. She stops in front of the door. “That letter was addressed to Ebenezer. Make sure he gets it please.” With that she leaves, holding her chest as she walks out, slamming the door.

———

(Y/N) comes back to her senses, and as she does she notices the number of people on the stairs. She stood up, shaking her head. “When did all these people get here?” Harry turns to her. “Just a few minutes ago! Here, let me introduce you to everyone. There’s Tom Jenkins he owns the toy shop in town.” he leads her down, introducing her.

Tom turns with a smile. “Oh! Good afternoon Miss!” he bows his head to her, and she smiles fondly “Jenkins? As in John Jenkins?” Tom nods, and (Y/N) grins “he was friends with my father! It’s good to know the business was passed down so kindly. I’m (Y/N).” She pats his shoulder. Harry seems even happier that (Y/N) said something nice, first.

“A pleasure to meet you too! Ms. (Y/N)!” This is followed by Harry dragging (Y/N) to a few new people…well, a lot of new people!. “(Y/N) this is Bob Cratchit! He works for Scrooge.” Bob smiled warmly as he held a baby, “(Y/N)! Why that’s quite the name, lovely to meet you.” His wife smiled. “It’s a miracle we lasted this long on his doorstep. I expected him to throw us out by now. Ethel.”

She smiled, about to say something when her arm was grabbed. “(Y/N)! I didn’t know you were back!” “Neither did I!” they dragged her toward them. The green-dressed woman hugs her while the red-dressed one pats her. “I would have introduced them, but I guess you already know them!” Their joyous demeanors rubbed off on the other guests.

The laughter fills the air gently, and soon they begin talking amongst themselves once more. “Look at your face, you still look as young as you did all those years ago.” (Y/N) blushed and laughed. The other lady grabbed her face gently. “It was always rough not having such a charitable heart here. We missed you.” Harry’s smile never leaves his face, and he decides to ask.

“(Y/N) how do you know these kind women?” (Y/N) turned to the brunette man, and she smiled. (Y/N)’s laughter was exchanged for her voice speaking absen-mindedly. “oh yes, I met these two in my old town. Where they were also donating.” The ladies laughed, full of seasonal joy.

Their laughter died down, and the ladies gently held her hands. “So, (Y/N) tell us about that delightful husband of yours!” (Y/N) forgot she was supposed to talk about her husband. So she immediately slumped, Harry, already knowing the answer, went back to his wife quickly.

(Y/N) spoke quietly, her smile falling into a frown. “Three springs ago, he passed away in his sleep. From an incurable disease.” The ladies lost their smiles almost instantaneously. They grab (Y/N) once more and hug her.

The warmth of their hug brings a small smile back to (Y/N)’s face. “I’m so sorry dear.” “Widowed! At such a young age!” She hugged them back, ignoring that her age had been misplaced. “(Y/N) remember you can always come to us if you’re ever in any sad time. Okay?``said the one in the red dress.

The smell of food stole most people’s attention. They turned and there walked a few people holding food for catering. They all stared in awe, a few getting a closer look, and when (Y/N) was released she walked up to one with a dish that used to warm her up inside and out.

“Syllabub? That’s an old favorite of mine. Oh! Figgy pudding!” She heard Harry’s voice from the top step, everyone turning to meet his gaze. “Are we ready everyone?” Everyone agrees that it’s time to get inside, except for (Y/N) who simply shakes her head.

Harry grins, and turns to the door, and yet he doesn’t move. Hela quickly pressed the bell herself, Harry deflating. He reinflates as he sees his wife’s excited expression, and they both look at the door with determined expressions. In fact, everyone seemed confused, and/or nervous.

It takes a while for the doors to open, so they focus on their own things once more. (Y/N) wringing her hands in thought, not bothering to walk back up to the top of the stairs, so she stands on the ground. The door is opened, and the familiar face peers down at the people. Gesturing for them to come inside.

Scrooge’s face had aged, his hair now almost completely gray, and his sideburns now framing his face. (Y/N) follows the others inside. Scrooge sees (Y/N), and can't help but smile. Once everyone is inside, dinner begins.

Everyone sits in their seats. Ebenezer helped Ethel relax in her seat. (Y/N) stands looking at the wall decorations, and all the food. She felt weary of so many colors. She sees gifts while resting at the table.

Tom is more curious than her because he opens his, and has a pleasant surprise when Ebenezer tells him that all his debts are canceled. The ladies and Harry open their thoughtful gifts. 1000 pounds for each lady and his mother's doll.

(Y/N) rubs her arms, not expecting her own gift, especially because she came without warning, but seeing these gifts made her wonder. She has no time to think before Bob Cratchit opens his. Business partners?

Scrooge stood over him and smiled “yes, Bob, if you have me that is. Let's build a brighter future for the Cratchits together, what do you say?” Bob looks up at him with a grin. “I say yes!” He and the rest of his family are overjoyed. Scrooge allows them to talk amongst themselves, turning to (Y/N) for a moment. Then he goes to the front of the table.

(Y/N) raises a brow as he begins talking again. She partially listens, but only makes certain words out. His words are definitely chosen carefully, and he had to have practiced such a speech at least twice. From what (Y/N) has seen Ebenezer has changed. She's proud, and yet nervous, like meeting someone new.

Harry waved for her to come closer. She begrudgingly walks up to the table. An awkward small smile on her face. A small boy raised a glass, full of milk, as he was finishing his final statement. Raising his glass of wine into the air imitating the boy. “God bless us! Everyone!” yelled the boy.

There was a cheer, and everyone began eating. (Y/N) only grabbing a glass of syllabub, and making her way out of the room again. Hoping someone would follow her. She was still surprised when someone did. She stopped on the balcony of the steps.

“(Y/N)? Is everything alright?” the voice struck (Y/N)’s ears suddenly. She nods gently leaning on the railing. Gesturing for the voice to join her. When he did, she looked up at him.

She giggled softly. “It's so strange, after all these years seeing your face and you being…different…again.” her head drops when she says again. Looking down at the ground below her. Scrooge moves a hand to touch her back to comfort her, but puts his hand down again when (Y/N) lifts her head.

Scrooge places his hands down on the railing and squeezes gently. “(Y/N), there are not enough words to describe how sorry I am. Truly.” he looks at her, a drift of wind causing her to shiver. Almost instinctively he takes off his coat and places it on her. She quietly laughs.

She looks at her old friend. “Well, then use the words you can to tell me what happened. Why must you continue changing so quickly?” (Y/N) speaks quickly. She fixes her posture as she holds the coat around her body. Scrooge smiles at her. “It's so much I don't want to go through again.” she huffs.

The two sit in silence for a while longer. The tense air is lifted when there's music coming from the other room. Scrooge quickly looks in the direction of the room, an old urge resurging. He relaxes, and his rurs are back on (Y/N).

(Y/N)’s eyes widen, and without warning she grabs his cheek. She pulls him down to face her. She smiles gently as she sees his eyes. His face is flushed, she lets him go, her face now a few shades darker. “Apologies Mr. Scrooge.” Scrooge wines at the name. He gently grabs her wrist and rubs his thumb on it.

His hand is gentle, she stares at it for a moment. “Please, call me Ebenezer.” (Y/N) is taken aback at how desperate he sounds. She takes his hand into her own, then lets it go. Turning back to the wooden railing. “Ah, Yes. Ebesneezer.” a smile taking her expression. Scrooge raises a brow.

Ebenezer steps closer to her. “I read your letter. A miracle it was damaged like any other.” (Y/N) slaps his elbow gently in offense. He chuckles. She's silent, processing his words. “THE LETTER? What letter? The letter I gave to you when we…oh dear.” She rests her chin on her palm.

The two look to one another, “did you mean what you said..? Out loud and in your letter.” Ebenezer takes a step closer. (Y/N) stands still, pulling at her bonnet. “Yes…no? It’s been so long.” The man notices her bonnet. He smiled at it, and (Y/N) smiled at it too, taking it off. She held it in her hands.

Ebenezer’s eyes seem to light up at your face. He walks closer. “Whether you mean it now, or you don’t “I want you to know…I…I” he stops in his tracks. (Y/N) steps closer. “You? You what?” A hopeful feeling enters her chest.

Ebenezer clears his throat. “Every day when I wake up, I think about you. Every morning, noon, and night, from sunrise to the next full moon. You’ve meant more to me than most others.” He recites. (Y/N)’s eyes grow wide, and she stares up at him. “To put it plainly. I…” their eyes meet. Ebenezer grabbing (Y/N)’s hands as he takes a deep breath. “I love you too (Y/N)”

Relief. Weight falls off (Y/N)’s shoulders, like heavy chains tying her to the ground. The air is lighter, the colors are brighter, and her mind is clearer. She would jump for joy if she wasn’t in front of an old friend in a serious situation. “That’s…I…I love you too!” She says with a giddy laugh.

She holds her head. “Ye gods, this feels like a dream!” She admits squeezing Ebenezer’s hands tightly. He laughs as (Y/N) holds her head in deliriousness. She stops smiling when she realizes. “If that’s the case. That means if I stayed I could’ve helped you. If I stayed you wouldn't have. Oh…Humbug!” She holds her head. Ebenezer places a gentle hand on her cheek.

“(Y/N), my dear, the past is the past. We’re now here, in the present.” His other hand holds her waist. (Y/N)’s face contorts in her sadness, caressing his hand on her face. Her opposite holding his upper arm. Their eyes meet. He leans down to her, she closes her eyes, tilting her head. Their lips meet gently.

A giggle, but this time followed by a deep chortle stops (Y/N). “Did you hear that?” He looks around. Shaking his head. She looks up at him, and smiles. “Must be my imagination.” Ebenezer allows her to enter first, looking around the empty home. He then follows her.

“Good job Scrooge.” A feminine says from above. A deep laugh follows. “Good job indeed.” A flurry of fire and giggling elves and the room is silent once more.

The end.

#scrooge: a christmas carol #scrooge x reader #ebenezer scrooge #can you tell past is my favorite? #scrooge 2022 #reader insert #scrooge a christmas carol #ebenezer scrooge x reader

[quill-pen]

Blessing (Married!EbenezerXReader)

Hi. I'm new here. Nice to meet you. Oooohhhhh, boy I can't believe I've done this. Can't believe I've joined Tumblr; can't believe I've written this and have an idea for a whole story to go with it. I just cannot believe any of this.

To be honest, I knew it would happen. Once I heard that song and saw the animation and found out Luke Evans was going to play Scrooge, I knew if I watched the movie, something like this was bound to happen--especially when Scrooge sings and looks like that. I mean GOOD. NIGHT. (You cannot tell me this was not a deliberate decision. These people knew exactly what they were doing.) But how could I not watch it because: A) IT'S 'A CHRISTMAS CAROL' AND I LOVE 'A CHRISTMAS CAROL'--of course I had to watch it and see how it measured up to other versions. B) LUKE FRICKING EVANS. C) LUKE FRICKING EVANS SINGING. D) SILVER FOX SCROOGE VOICED BY LUKE EVANS. SINGING.

I knew what I was getting into--I knew it was dangerous. ... And I went for it. And I tried to stop the inevitable afterward, but it's the inevitable. There's no fighting it--there's only assimilate. So I assimilated. And here we are.

So, basically, overall, just really consider this like a teaser, I guess. Because the truth is I have a whole idea for a story behind this thing and after this thing, and this was just something that popped into my head that I had to get out and share to see what people thought. And, according to AO3, I won't get my invite until the 7th and I just can't wait that long. I'm so pathetic.

Basic synopsis for the story I'm planning: Reader insert, obviously. Takes place at least 6 months after the events of 'A Christmas Carol'. Jacob Marley actually had a daughter. (He married only to have an heir, never really felt anything for his wife, took a long time to have a kid, and, when they finally do, it's a girl--so he's not involved. [Because this Marley in particular seems like that type.]) Because her family is quite harsh, the mother flees to America with her daughter, and years later, early 20-something reader-daughter returns to London with a dead mother to bury in tow, meets and befriends Scrooge, and is pulled into her mother's very hoity-toity aristocratic family and everything that comes with that life. Reader, ultimately, can't go back to America (things...), but the only way she will be allowed to stay in the care of her mother's family (and presumably get whatever she might have inherited from her mother because no way Marley left her anything) she has to marry. Cue the gallant and handsome Ebenezer Scrooge to the rescue. (He's not what the family was thinking, but Reader is also not a high priority and Scrooge does have money and is of decent enough birth, so, eh, he'll do.) Yada, yada, yada, a marriage of convenience, slow-burn, friends-to-lovers romance, domestic fluff, and drama, a little spiciness, some heartbreak, and heart-mending, etc. Isabel at some point does make a return (whether she's widowed or still married, idk right now) hence the exchange we have in this thing. Let me know what you think. I'd be very interested in knowing if anyone would be interested in reading a story like this. In the meantime, enjoy this tiny little snippet of an idea.

Oh, yeah, btw, if I do this thing, and I put this back into the story, it will be much sadder. For reasons. I won't go into it now, but you can probably guess.

Pairing: Ebenezer Scrooge x F!Reader (married)

Warnings: FEELINGS, tears, declarations of love, fear of losing someone--just feelings. Oh, also kissing after influenza in Victorian London I guess? *shrugs* Probably not the wisest decision for a few reasons. Isabel may also not be shown in the best light here because of Reader's POV, but I assure you we do not hate Isabel here. She is so sweet and lovely, and I hope she really ended up as happy as she looked in that picture.

Summary: You have been extremely sick with influenza for a time. Finally, you come 'round. When you do, you are greeted by an overjoyed and emotional husband. Some romantic and fluffy sweetness ensues.

A/N: Lots of inspiration from Poldark here. I'd be lying if I said I'm not going to take lots more inspiration from it with the actual story if/when I write it. Also did not put Prudence in this in order to strictly focus on the main relationship, but you bet your bottom dollar she's going to be in the story. I love that mastiff. One of the best things they added to the movie, even though it doesn't actually make sense for Scrooge's character to have a pet.

Oh, and first-ever reader insert. Wish me luck!

Blessing

The mist was beginning to clear, the weights that pulled you down into the darkness becoming lighter and breaking away.  You were coming fully into the light now--awakening, though you hadn’t truly been slumbering.  After an eternity of unknowing, you were becoming aware again.  Aware of the world; of the air you sucked into your aching windpipe and lungs; of the accursed dryness of your throat; of the dampness of sweat coating your body; of the weakness of your body and the heavy and hot softness that surrounded it.  It was stuffy and uncomfortable.

With a groan, you tried to open your eyes just to see exactly what made you uncomfortable.  You’d never known trying to open eyes could be so hard or make one so very tired.  Eventually, you prevailed: And when you did, you found yourself blearily gazing out into a bright, blurry world.  You groaned and squinted against the light, then slowly tried again.  After a period, things became clearer and the light became less blinding, and you were able to finally look around.

You found yourself tucked deeply into your bed, covered by several blankets along with the heavy comforter.  No wonder you were so hot.  You tried to shift the blankets a bit, but they were quite heavy, and you still felt so weak, so you simply resigned yourself to their near-suffocating embrace for the moment.  At least until you could find somebody to help you move them.  

Your eyes slowly traveled around the room, taking things in, until they finally came to rest on a familiar figure at your bedside.    

Ebenezer sat in a chair but was slumped over, half-laying on the mattress with his arms folded beneath his head.  He was sleeping--snoring ever so slightly.  He looked something of a mess; his steely hair mussed and muttonchops unkempt, his shirt collar askew, sleeves undid, and messily pushed and rolled up his arms.  You could see prominent stubble on his chin and around his lips--too prominent for it to be his typical morning shadow.  

You opened your mouth to speak, but found yourself unable to make any sound beyond a whisper of a croak.  You licked your dry lips with an even dryer tongue and tried to swallow before attempting to speak again.  A bit more of a crackle came out that time, but nothing loud enough to gain attention.  Oh, bloody hell and vexation!  Slowly, having to summon up what seemed all of your strength to do so, you slid a trembling hand across the mattress and reached out to thread shaking fingers into your husband’s hair.  You ignored the greasy sensation of it.  Ebenezer unshaven and unwashed?  Just how much time had passed?

You gently began to stroke the man’s scalp and tug his hair, all the while still trying to speak his name.  Each attempt earned you more of a sound coming from your throat.  “Ebenezer…” you rasped, fighting to keep your eyes open.  These little efforts put together were all wearing you out so quickly.  “Ebenezer….”

The man stirred, snorting softly and groaning.  Slowly he raised his head and blinked the sleep from his eyes before looking up at you.  His sleep-blurred gaze lasted for a mere second before he came fully awake, slate-blue eyes widening in alarm.  He stood up from his chair and moved to sit at the edge of the bed, leaning over to you, taking your hand that had been in his hair into one of his as he did so.  With the other hand, he reached out and touched your sweaty brow then your cheek.  “Y/N?” he murmured in some disbelief.  “Y/N, darling, you’re awake!”  His lips were pulling into an overjoyed, open-mouthed grin, his bushy, gray eyebrows crinkling his forehead as they shot toward the sky.  Turning his head slightly, but never taking his gaze off you, he called over his shoulder.  “Ida!  Ida!”

It was mere seconds before your lady’s maid was rushing through the bedroom door, looking greatly concerned.  “Yes, Mr. Scrooge?”

“Send for the Doctor!” your husband ordered, still gazing at you.  “Quick as you can!  She’s awake!”

“Right away, Sir!”  With that, Ida vanished just as quickly as she’d arrived.

Focused solely on you now, Ebenezer scooted closer to you, cupping your cheek in his hand as he gazed into your face with such relief and joy you could see a thin sheen of tears in his eyes.  He kissed the hand of yours he held.  “Oh, my darling,” he crooned softly, stroking your cheekbone with a thumb.  “Oh, my dearest, dearest darling!”  He then leaned in and planted a kiss on your brow (obviously not caring about the sweat and whatever other disgustingness covered your skin) and kept up a frenzied shower of them all over your face before finally catching up your lips.  

He immediately pulled away.  “Water!” he exclaimed.  “You’ll want water!”  He let go of your hand and pulled away only long enough to reach over to the bedside table where a pitcher and glass sat.  The man poured you a generous helping.  “Here,” he said.  “Drink.  Slowly.”  He helped you to sit up and lift the glass to your parched lips as he noticed how shaky your hands were.  Ebenezer watched carefully as you gulped the liquid down.  “That’s it, my love.  Drink.”

It seemed to take forever to finish the glass, but you were so savagely thirsty you couldn’t bear the thought of stopping until the water was gone.  When it was, you pushed the glass back to your husband.  “More please,” you croaked, the water having loosened your voice.

Ebenezer did as you wished, filling the glass and helping you hold it yet again as you drank deeply that delicious, revitalizing fluid.  There was about a quarter of a glass left when you finally felt you’d had your fill.  “Thank you,” you gasped, allowing the man to take the glass away. 

“Of course.”  Once storing the glass, your husband turned back to you again, eyes gazing deeply into yours, concern mixing with the joy that sparkled there.  Taking both of your small hands into one of his, he reached up with the other to brush the hair from your face and caress your cheek.  “How are you feeling, my dear?”  His eyes pulled from yours for a brief second to look you over, as if he’d be able to see anything that might be wrong or afflicting you.

The corners of your mouth twitched a bit, but you were simply too exhausted to smile.  “Tired,” you sighed.  “In need of a good bath.  And a bit suffocated.”  You looked pointedly at the mound of blankets atop you.  

Easily picking up the message, your husband set about clearing off everything down to the comforter.  “Better?”

“Much.”  You leaned heavily back against the pillows and gazed wearily up at the man, who was back to holding your hands and stroking your hair.  Now that he was awake and leaning over you, you could get a much better look at just how bedraggled the poor fellow was.  Not only was he unwashed and unshaven, but his face also seemed to be much more lined than usual, making him look much more like the old man he claimed himself to be.  His cheeks were more sunken in, and there were bags under his eyes and dark circles around them: He looked as if he hadn’t properly slept or eaten in weeks, never mind days!  “Ebenezer…” you trailed off, not quite sure what to ask.

But your husband knew what you were wanting to know.  He always knew.  “You’ve been ill for quite some time, my love,” he answered quietly, smoothing back some flyaways from your forehead.  

“How long?”

“Two weeks.”  He smiled thinly, pain tinging his gaze.  “You were touch and go there for a long stint.”  His lips trembled and a tear crept past his long lashes to his cheek.  He paid it no heed but blinked back against the sting of its siblings.  “My worst nightmare--I was so afraid I would lose you.  A time or two I thought I had.”

Your memory of the time he spoke of was all a blur; a blizzard of flashes of light and darkness; numbing mist and painful sharpness; muddled voices and snippets of conversation that were sometimes too soft to register and other times so loud your head had pounded.  You couldn’t decipher what had been real and what had been hallucination.  Your head had been swimming then, and as you thought back through it all, it wasn’t much better now.  You could remember one thing though.  One extremely painful thing:  “I saw her,” you whispered.

Your husband gave an inquiring look.  “You saw whom, Y/N?”

You gazed deep into his eyes as you felt an ache rise in your chest and tears prick at your eyes.  “Her,” you repeated meaningfully.  “Isabel.  I saw her.  And you…” your voice broke off.  You swallowed hard and wrenched your gaze from his, finding it too painful to look at him as you continued.  “She’d come to take you with her.  And you went.”  You took a shuddering breath, trying to control yourself.  “I wanted to die, the pain hurt so.”

Ebenezer’s gaze softened in empathy.  “Oh, darling,” he murmured.  He squeezed your hands.

You looked back at him, vision swimming and tears beginning to trickle down your cheeks.  Pulling one hand free of his grip, you wiped at them.  “She wasn’t here, was she?  Truly?” you quivered, sounding pathetically meek.  “You didn’t go with her?  She didn’t take you from me?

The man shook his head firmly.  “No,” he stated.  “No, Isabel wasn’t here.  It was just a dream.  Isabel didn’t take me.”  He leaned in and pressed his forehead to yours, gazing into your e/c-hued eyes with all the sincerity and adoration in the world, and added with gentle finality, “And she never, ever will.  I’m so, so, so sorry I ever made you feel you had to worry about such a thing, Dearest.  You are, without a doubt, my greatest blessing, and the absolute love and light of my life, Y/N.  I am yours and yours alone, mind, body, and soul, in this world and the next should I be granted the choice.”

Those words, that declaration of complete and utter love from the man you loved more than you thought any human being could love another human being, made your heart swell and fill your chest to the point you feared it might explode.  You were most definitely crying now as you gazed up into those beloved slate-blue eyes.  “I love you, Ebenezer Scrooge.”  The words seemed feeble, far too feeble after the eloquent, soul-deep statements your husband had just made, but there was simply nothing else you could think of to say to explain your feelings.

Despite your insecurities over them, the words seemed to be more than enough for Ebenezer, for the man smiled lovingly and returned, “And I love you, Y/N Scrooge.”  He brought up your left hand that he was holding and kissed the delicate and simple gold band on your finger before pressing your hand to his breast over his heart.  “With my entire being.”  With that, he leaned in and captured your lips in a kiss--a real, tender, lingering, devoted kiss.

You closed your eyes and melted into it.  Slithering your free hand up, you slipped it around the nape of Ebenezer’s neck and loosely tangled it into his steel-toned locks, gently tugging him deeper into the kiss.  He gratefully obliged.  It was evident you’d both missed each other’s affections.  That would have to be remedied in its entirety sometime soon, but not now.  Not just yet.  (Truly, you had no strength for such activities right now!)  Right now it was more than enough for you to know that your husband was yours: “Yours and yours alone--mind body and soul,” as he’d stated.  For to have a heart such as Ebenezer Scrooge’s for your very own--a scarred but beautiful heart that was so full of love and kindness and care and joy and passion--was truly the greatest blessing anyone could ever be given.

#ebenezer scrooge x reader #married couple #love declaration #scrooge 2022 #scrooge x you #scrooge fluff #married fluff #victorian england #probably don't kiss somebody right after they've been sick for weeks #seriously why'd they have to make him SO FINE #God help me #Youtube

[kal-selfships]

𝐀 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐞

Authors note: This fanfic is intended to be a self insert (myself) x canon (Eben.ezer) so this is NOT a reader x canon! Also I don’t write much stories so my apologizes if this isn’t great by all means, but you may reblog this fic if you want to! Update - I finished this late but eh that’s alright (You may share this if you like!) Gif isn’t mine

Word Count: 1,014 words

Includes: Age gap | Fluff | Redeemed Scrooge + mentions of this past self | 3rd person POV | Songfic

December 25th was a special day for most who celebrate the Christmas holiday, this particular holiday was in full swing in London at a certain house that was home to the older man, named Ebenezer Scrooge.  He was the host of the Christmas party, in which surprised everyone in town. Since in previous years Scrooge hated the holiday and despised it, but ever since the ghosts of Christmas past, present, future and a particular girl named Kal changed his ideologies about the holiday. 

I'll begin again I will build my life I will live to know that I fulfill my life

He invited everyone in town, the children, the adults, the poor, the upper class, anyone whom you can think of was at the occasion. They all conversed, danced, and the kids were playing games with each other. He was filled with love, he was glad he could redeem himself from his past actions. But his heart was danced in his chest when she arrived. 

Kal walked up to his house and took a deep breath, she ran her fingers through her long black hair and knocked on the door rather nervously. The girl wasn’t too fond of formal occasions, in which was why she showed up 30 minutes late.  She wasn’t too fond of wearing dresses either, but she desperately wanted to see Ebenezer so she didn’t mind. 

Right after she knocked on his door, Ebenezer quickly opened the door to see the younger woman standing right in front of him. The older man’s heart swelled in his chest and a tint of blush crept onto his cheeks looking at the girl, she had on a white and pink causal dress. Her body was quite different than the other women in town, but Ebenezer didn’t mind it at all. Kal’s heart swelled in her chest as well, Ebenezer had on a dark blue suit that was quite fitting on his figure. 

I'll begin today Throw away the past And the future I build will be something that will last

“Kal my dear! I’m glad you showed up, I was worried you wouldn’t show up. You look stunning, please come in.” 

“T-thank you Mr. Scrooge you look great yourself, and thank you for the invitation!” She nervously said as she walked in. 

The older man noticed that Kal was quite nervous, she was an open book when it comes to her emotions. Almost everyone can tell exactly what she was feeling. He was about to say something but Kal beat him right to it. 

“Mr. Scrooge...can we speak in private? I’m sorry I get nervous when it comes to get togethers like this.” 

“Why certainly Kal, I hate seeing you uncomfortable like this. Follow me, we can speak outside in the back.” 

The girl followed him and they met in the back where there wasn’t anyone. The sky was beginning to turn a darker shade a blue, which contributed to the mood. Kal looked down sadly and felt her heart palpitate in her chest as her hands trembled. 

“Are you alright Kal? I-I know I was often bitter towards you and the others, I cannot forgive myself from such actions.” 

“Mr. Scrooge it’s fine you don’t need to apologize it’s not your fault. It's just..the reason why I wanted to talk to you in private was because I...deeply care about you, I...I love you, you matter so much to me and the other townspeople. You’re not alone..” 

Kal was a blushing and trembling mess, she felt her throat constrict due to her fearing that he would reject her. Ever since she laid eyes on him, her feelings for the older man grew and grew even though he was cold on the outside. But deep down, she knew that he had a soft and happy side, no one was mean for no apparent reason there was always a reason for someone’s madness. She asked how he was doing, and always listened to him whenever he needed to speak about something. Kal was quite intimated at first glance, but as days pass her love for him sparked and grew. 

I will start anew I will make amends And I'll make quite certain that the story ends

Ebenezer couldn’t believe his ears, the shy girl that he deeply admired admits that she liked him out of all people? If it wasn’t for her, he would never achieve happiness and forgiveness. He softly smiled and took a step closer to Kal, placed one of his hands on her cheek and leaned down to her level. 

“My dear you don't need to look so down. Those words of kindness, mean so much to me and I will forever cherish them in my heart. Without you, I’m afraid I will dwell in the past forever. Thank you sticking with me, thank you for understanding me. Thank you for everything my dear, I really adore you Kal, you can say I love you too my love. You really are a Christmas miracle.” He said blushing. 

Without realizing it, Kal rushed into Ebenezer’s chest and hid her face from blushing so much. He was in shock and his face flushed a bright red, he giggled softly and held her close to his chest. She looked up at his blue crystal eyes and smiled at him with her innocent brown eyes. 

“I shall begin another path, throw away the past forever. I will be a new man, and begin a new future with you my dear.” 

“And I will stay with you as long as you need, I will always listen to you Mr. Scrooge.” 

“My dear, you can call me Ebenezer if you wish.” 

They both giggled, and Ebenezer placed both hands on Kal’s cheek which made her blush even more through her tan colored skin. He knew she was ready for him, they both closed their eyes and shared a kiss which seemed to last the whole evening. 

On a note of hope On a strong amen And I'll thank the world and remember when I was able to begin again

#Spotify #my writing #old miser 💕 #self insert x fictional other #selfship writing

[wondereads]

Personal Recommendation (2/14/20)

The Sisters Grimm by Michael Buckley

I’m doing something new this week! I’ll be reviewing every book in The Sisters Grimm series. Each will get a small paragraph and get a rating out of ten, and then I’ll rate the series overall. Hope you guys enjoy it! Please keep in mind this will contain spoilers for the later books, so don’t read ahead if you don’t want some major spoilers!

#1: The Fairy-Tale Detectives     9/10

The very beginning! Sabrina and Daphne Grimm, after a year in foster care with some dubious caretakers, are being sent to live with their grandmother, who, until a few days ago, they didn’t know existed. Granny Relda lives in Ferryport Landing, a typical small town in almost all aspects except for the significant population of fairytale characters or Everafters. The first book serves as a good introduction to Buckley’s world. The sisters have been shielded from fairytales their entire lives, so it’s easy to insert explanations for the inexperienced reader. It also very quickly sets up Sabrina and Daphne’s characters by using their reaction to Granny Relda and her fairytale reveal. Daphne, being a younger, more sheltered child, accepts it wholeheartedly and is excited to get involved in solving magical mysteries. Sabrina, after protecting her sister from nutcases for a year, has a much more cynical outlook, and it takes an actual giant scooping Relda up for her to believe. There’s also some memorable introductions for other important characters such as Mr. Canis, Puck, Mirror, and Mayor Charming. In terms of the plot, Buckley consistently creates mysteries that have twists but aren’t too difficult to follow for late elementary students.

#2: The Unusual Suspects     7/10

Things are starting to get a little more intense. Sabrina and Daphne are required to go to school after being preoccupied with chasing giants around the countryside. Unfortunately, especially for Sabrina, who wants to regain some semblance of normalcy, something is killing the teachers at school. I forgot how gruesome the murders were. I also forgot that Sabrina is in sixth grade. This particular book always got on my nerves. Sabrina is clearly having some issues; her parents are missing, she’s trapped in a town with fairytale characters, she can’t see to escape humiliation either at the hands of Puck or her classmates, and now people are being killed left and right. And yet, her family refuses to see that she needs help and decides to reprimand her constantly instead. The villain for this book is particularly disturbing. I must warn readers-child manipulation and abuse is a common theme in these books. If you couldn’t already catch on in the first book, it becomes obvious here that Sabrina has some grudges against the magical community.

#3: The Problem Child     7/10

This book has a sort of in-between feeling to me. Sabrina comes upon a maniacal little girl dressed in red who is holding her currently enchanted parents captive. The little girl, obsessed with recreating her family, is convinced they are her own parents and controls a jabberwocky, her ‘kitty’. All she needs is a granny and a doggy-Granny Relda and Mr. Canis. Everything in this book pours into the next ones, while, unlike the other books, there isn’t much of a self-contained plot. Red comes more into play in Tales from the Hood and The Everafter War, the election sets up Magic and Other Misdemeanors, and the vorpal blade and Puck’s injury lead into Once Upon a Crime. This book, however, introduces Uncle Jake, one of the most interesting characters in terms of development, and it also begins the problem of Sabrina’s magic addiction. The events of this book contribute to Sabrina’s distrust of magic after she has some run-ins with her addiction. It is also when you maybe start to develop some affection for Charming, despite his over-inflated ego.

#4: Once Upon a Crime     10/10

This one is my personal favorite. After Puck’s run-in with the jabberwocky, the Grimms take an emergency trip to New York, Sabrina and Daphne’s old home. There they plead the king of Faerie, Oberon, to heal Puck. Unfortunately, Oberon is poisoned within hours of their arrival, and Relda, of course, takes the case. This book is so much fun because in Ferryport Landing they just sprinkle the whole town in forgetful dust. In New York, Everafters need real jobs and a way to cover their tracks as beings who don’t age. The Wizard of Oz works at Macy’s, Ebenezer Scrooge makes a living as a medium, and pirates such as Long John Silver feed off of Wall Street. It also addresses the downsides of that. Everafters don’t age; some of them don’t even look human. It comes as a shock to Sabrina, but her mother, Veronica Grimm, was secretly working with the New York Everafters to fix their problems. I feel that Sabrina finding a connection to her mother through the Everafter community is the first step she takes toward accepting her role as a Grimm.

#5: Magic and Other Misdemeanors     8/10

The conflict between humans and Everafters starts to take center stage. Someone in Ferryport Landing is stealing powerful magical artifacts, causing rips in time, but the Grimms have to split their attention with Mayor Heart’s new tyrannical rule. This is where the series begins to take a darker turn. The new mayor, the Queen of Hearts, and Sheriff Nottingham are set on running every human in Ferryport Landing out of town, and the divides between human and Everafter are becoming more pronounced by the day. The rips in time are particularly interesting, especially Sabrina and Daphne’s trip to the future, which really raises the stakes going forward. Also, the idea of a past Grimm arriving in town, giving Heart and Nottingham a chance to end the entire family, is very nervewracking. Also, the concept of Everafter-human relationships and how that would work presents some interesting conflicts.

#6: Tales from the Hood     10/10

There’s nothing I love more than a fractured fairytale. Intent on getting rid of the Grimms’ staunch protector, Heart and Nottingham put Mr. Canis, or the Big Bad Wolf, on trial. Some investigation in order to clear his name reveals that the story of Little Red Riding Hood might not be all true. Technically, the entire series is based on fairytales, but this is the first book where those stories are actually challenged. The actual story of Little Red Riding Hood is amazing, and it also ties into all the other stories the Wolf is present in. Also, I love Red, the sane Red, and I always get so happy when she’s cured. Once again, Sabrina clashes strongly with her family in this one, for understandable reasons. I’m less inclined to side with her on this one, but she definitely learns her lesson.

#7: The Everafter War     8/10

The Grimms are finally united! Henry and Veronica Grimm are woken up from their magical sleep, but Henry, having too many bad memories, wants to leave town immediately. Unfortunately, the Scarlet Hand has taken over all of Ferryport Landing and only a small resistance stands in their way. There’s a lot of family drama in this one. The dynamics of Sabrina, Daphne, and their parents are all out of whack after spending over a year apart. On one hand, they now have parental support again. On the other, Henry can’t seem to conceptualize that Daphne is, in fact, not five anymore. If that isn’t enough drama for you, Puck finds out he and Sabrina are married in the future, and Snow and Charming are caught up in a soap opera of their own. Also, not to mention the plethora of betrayals in this book. The plot is really picking up here.

#8: The Inside Story     8/10

This one took quite some imagination. After the reveal of the Master’s identity as their own beloved Mirror, Sabrina, Daphne, and Puck pursue him and Pinocchio through the Book of Everafter, a living book filled with fairytales that could actually change history. I find it absolutely hilarious that the kids absolutely refuse to follow the story no matter what. Also, this is where Sabrina starts coming into her own. She’s going through a rough patch in this book. As would anyone whose best friend turned out to be the leader of a magical terrorist organization. By the way, if you are connected to these characters in any way, Mirror’s betrayal will hit you like a punch to the gut. She’s having trouble trusting her judgement, which will have her come back stronger than ever. Also, it’s nice to see her and Puck get through a couple sentences without a barrage of insults. Finally, Relda was such a badass in this book. If you didn’t love her before, you definitely love her now.

#9: The Council of Mirrors     9/10

It’s time for a happily ever after. With Mirror running loose in Ferryport Landing and the rebellion in tatters, things are looking bleak. Especially when the twenty-four remaining magic mirrors issue a prophecy putting everyone’s fate in the hands of Sabrina and Daphne Grimm. Sabrina starts out pretty broken in this book. She’s been betrayed, her grandmother is possessed by an evil mirror, and now everyone is expecting her to lead an army. I absolutely love that when she gets the push she needs from the mirrors it plays to her strengths. She’s a master of planning and subterfuge, and it’s so nice to see it come out. On a less chipper note, I hate Atticus with everything in me, and I was so happy he ended the way he did. In terms of Mirror, I found it poetic, but also so typical of a kid’s book, that he was defeated by the one thing he never had: love. Finally, the reason this book doesn’t get a 10/10 is because I felt the epilogues were kind of rushed and unrealistic. However, they don’t have much impact on the book overall, and I still loved most of it!

Overall 1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  10

The Sisters Grimm is one of my favorite series from childhood. The characters are realistic, relatable, and get great development. Kids books are great because there’s no worries about the idea being too juvenile. This book could never be an adult book, the ideas in it are too silly. However, that doesn’t mean it isn’t amazing, and I find the crazy ideas and cheesy lessons absolutely charming. It gives some unexpected sides to some well-known characters, and the amount of thought that went into incorporating classic and even more obscure characters into the modern world was crazy and very amusing at times. I also suspect that this series is the root of my fondness for fractured fairytales. I would recommend this book to people who like modern fantasy, sibling relationships, and fairytale characters in a decidedly un-mystical setting.

The Author

Michael Buckley: American, 51 years old, also wrote N.E.R.D.S. and Undertow

The Reviewer

My name is Wonderose; I try to post a review every two weeks, and I take recommendations. Check out my about me post for more!

#recommendations #reviews #books #the sisters grimm #michael buckley #children’s #fantasy #fairytales

[a-gal-with-taste]

Certainties & Mistletoe - Part 2

Summary: Mistletoe, the only decoration the old bastard could bear to stand during the winter-months. You thought it harmless, simple and almost forgettable... but the events it causes, is anything-but.

Ebenezer Scrooge & F!Reader | 4946 Words |

Prev | Next

Tags: Slow-burn, humor, banter, internal-thoughts, boss/employee relationship, maid!Reader, some world-building, pining (?!?), denial of feelings/everyone has denial, Scrooge being a grump (shocker), I literally don't know where this is going but gosh is it fun

A/N: Second chapter. Why? Haven't figured it out yet, and also don't know where this is going. Enjoy the ride!

If anything was affixed in reliability in regards to your strange-sort of new-reality, it was the fact that it was difficult to ignore that pesky little sprig. 

Not just difficult. 

Quite impossible, actually, considering it sat prominent at the corner of the undecorated desk of Mister Ebenezer Scrooge. 

A desk currently unoccupied. 

The district of Cornhill in its entirety left shaken by the sight of such a man on the prowl, particularly in this season’s time. Pity as it was to wish-upon the innocent the presence of Scrooge, you felt free alone in his business-quarters as you went-about your normal, average routine...

As normal as could be, with the singular reminder of your transgression still sitting upright and full of life, on that small glass of water at the miser’s desk. Right there... right there, out in the open, for all, and especially the Master-himself, to see!

It felt like a mockery. Taunting you, with a memory already half-repressed, forcing it back into the forefront every time you saw the spiky-leaves from the corners of vision, the crimson berries gleaming-still in candlelight...

You half-thought the thing lived-on, refusing to even consider wilting, just out of spite.

Henceforth, why you chose to regard it with an eye full of loathing, and offer a wide-berth around its immediate proximity. A fact that was as ridiculous, as it was entirely unignorable by parties not-privy to your internal conflict.

“Miss?”

You hummed in a way that proved you were listening, despite the venomous staring-match you were engaged-in. With a plant.

“Fairly sure those berries are only poisonous when eaten... they don’t jump out ‘atcha, frankly.”

Ah, Robert - though he swore that Bob was the name written on record - ever the relieving fresh-air in the stifling atmosphere that was Marley and Scrooge. His humor politely-stifled on most days to appease his mentor and employer, the brief freedom allowed between the hours of mid-morning, to five hours past-noon, were well-spent with an easy smile, and a more at-eased attitude.

Usually, it was a well-welcomed attitude. 

But the mischief that gleams in bi-colored eyes, that shift from yourself and to the out-of-place sprig, is enough to leave you wary before he even speaks.

“Though I can’t quite decide... whether your loathing comes from its poison, or spikes. Have you pricked yourself, perchance?”

“Were I lacking more wit than I currently possess, perhaps, but I am not-yet that clumsy,” You insist, but there’s a small smile shared from you to him, one that does-away with most of the troubled glint in your eyes. Most. 

“Strange, ‘innit?” He hummed in that almost-sweet, disarming way that had earned your gratefulness early-on in your employment. “Thought I’d be a-long into some great beyond before ol’ Ebenezer decided to stock up on decorations.” 

It’s spoken all in light joviality - out of respect, seasonal mood of jolly or legitimate amusement at the old man, you weren’t certain - but the second-opinion of the foul little thing does little to ease your mood. 

Your eyes slowly trail-back to it, nails digging into the meat of your palms as they tightened into fists. 

“I would think the very-same,” You murmur, eventually finding yourself able to turn your back on the desk and what resides there, in order to begin work along the shelves, all under Cratchit’s keen gaze. Keen, very-much curious, and unfortunately, eager for gossip to pass the hours.

“Well then. Have you any idea why he-?”

“Why-what? Who knows why that man does anything he-wills to do?” Too hasty, you knew, not only by how swiftly eyebrows shot-up, nearly touching his hairline.

Honesty would relieve you of some of the worry, you knew.

But it also seemed unbearable. To admit one's misconduct was enough of an embarrassment, but the crime-committed felt so much more severe than a slip in composure or social-graces...

Yet, it only took another lingering stare at the surviving twig of holly, before you wrung the dusting cloth between your fingers, “Mister Cratchit, have you ever done something truly... dreadful?”

No one would ever think a dear such as Bob capable of anything less-than goodness, but the copper-haired lad nodded rather quickly. “Oh, indeed! Rightfully so, my missus never lets me forget it.”

Stunned, breath caught between two-lungs, you asked out in a rush what it was.

“Thirty minutes late, I was, to own second girls’ arrival.” He confessed, a great and sorrowful light entering the eyes of two-shades as he wags his chin mournfully. “Nothing more-dreadful than that, Miss. It’s only out of blessing and that gold-heart of hers, that Kathie has never scorned me for it.”

Your heart sank - not necessarily from the story, though you did pity the family-loving man - but because it wasn’t even remotely-comparable to your own situation, and all the complications that now come with it.

Though, likely being the sole-woman alive who has so-willingly bestowed a kiss upon the lips of Ebenezer Scrooge, there was very-likely none to properly seek confidence-in.

So, physically shaking your thoughts from mind, you turned your inquiry to a subject far-less combustible, and humiliating. “Yet another child I find myself privy to be learning-of. Tell me, Robert, what good have I done to deserve such knowledge?”

“Bob, or Mister Cratchit if-you-please,” He corrected immediately, but with a pleased grin assuring you that no-offense was taken. “Two-years anniversary comes soon, since you’ve strode into this very office. It seemed appropriate.”

“In a way of celebration, I trust?”

“No other way I would speak of your presence here, miss.” The assurance is cut off, as Bob raps his knuckles upon his desk once, twice, with a canine briefly worrying at a chapped-lip before he continues. “That, and... well, you might very well privy to the sight of my children, soon enough. Two of them, to be exact.”

“Oh, Mister Cratchit, surely you don’t desire to host them among the company here.” You certainly had no issue with their attendance, but the office of Scrooge and the late Mister Marley was hardly a place of welcome for children.

“Oh no, they’d be so horribly bored, and Mister Scrooge would likely be-” A darting of eyes, much akin to your own, is paired with a gulp as he lays a gaze upon the somber work-station of the man-himself. “... displeased. But Kathie is of-age to begin work, with a voice as lovely as the Queen’s, I'd say! She might design to come ‘round upon her day, with my little man.”

“A son, too?” 

“Tim, man ‘o the house when I'm here, hard at work!” The declaration is spoken with pride, and it’s quite easy to respond with a small smile at the proud-father.

Perhaps it was selfish, but discussion of his life, rather than your own recent actions, was far more welcomed, even as something terribly weary entered his eyes before he continued.

“My... my boy would dowell with walking. Winter has never-quite been a friend with him, and... well. It’s come to the point where the exercise is much-needed, y’see, and I-”

“Mister Cratchit,” You interjected, sympathy in your eyes. “You need-not explain further. Perpetuating your woes with my curiosity was never an intention.” And it was clear, even with a lapse of details, that the situation with the Cratchit’s son was a woe-indeed.

“Right... right!” It was now his turn to shake-himself free of his troubles, which he did with a zeal that left his bright-copper hair to flip over his forehead. “Well, regardless... Miss, ‘ve no-doubt they’ll make the occasional trip! ‘Tis only natural for Cratchits to wish in staying-close, even when hard-at-work, though I can assure you, they’ll keep their business outside!”

“Tis not me you need to assure-this-to, but the caution is appreciated.” And the fact gave you plenty more to mull-over between the repetitiveness of your daily routine, dust collected and shaken-off the dusting-cloth with practiced ease. “Have I time and ability, I can spare a cuppa, warm, for the little-ones.”

“Oh, I couldn’t ask that of you-”

“And you haven’t, it’s merely an offer,” The smile you gave back was meant to invite ease, something which the clerk accepted after a moment. “Free-of-charge. Though darenot tell the Master of-that.”

“Heh, right... I shan’t.” A pause, the quiet words of gratitude nearly-silent, but no-less sincere. Again, pleasantries were a rarity in such-offices... three-years gone by, and still Cratchit was slow to get-used to them in your presence.

Keeping to normalcy. A lifestyle you thought mastered, and now something you missed bitterly, as your routine now seemed to revolve around... it, at his desk.

Foolish, it very-much was, but nonetheless, your steps naturally merged upon a new-path as you went about your duties - a bit quicker than normal, after the pauses taken during your conversing with the clerk - and kept ensuring you made as little visual-contact as possible with the sprig of your ire, the reason for that writhing cluster of uncertainty gathering inside you.

Why keep it? 

And, more significantly, why display it? As some sort of warning? Perchance it was a form of mockery, a private joke of which only one gains twisted-humor from... 

But was there humor to be had? From yourself, certainly-not, but recollection reminds you swiftly of the man’s own reaction to the incident... 

Averted eyes - surely out of the morbid embarrassment of the unprompted action.

Rapid, repeated clearing of the throat - solely for discomfort, you dreaded what occurred whenever the gentleman fell-ill, and what that entailed for you to do.

Your concern of some ailment only increased at the memory of reddened-cheeks - an occurrence that had twice been a happenstance. The prior evening upon your departure, and just this morning, upon your return.

With a sigh as you shuffled the books back unto their place on a cleaned-shelf, you resolved to detour from home to speak with a physician, speak on behalf of his welfare. A second-opinion... was it not what was desired in the first place, except for another scenario entirely?

You supposed you had to take victory elsewhere. If you could not succeed in unraveling the frazzled, mangled remnants of your good-sense, at least ensuring your employer was not catching-cold, was an acceptable alternate achievement in defeat of another.

That is, of course, what you tried to convince yourself. You feared you didn’t succeed much there either.

Speaking of the man, the clock struck the fifth-hour of past-noon.

By the second-ring announcing the time, you were dusting yourself to an acceptable greeting-condition - picking-up the pace as you passed the desk, and its topside contents you so-loathed.

The third and fourth tolling of bells both near-and-far finding yourself positioned, as always, by the front-door to brace to take hat & coat. Arms extended slightly, expectantly enough that your eyes slipped-closed as you sighed, bracing for the temporary flurry that would be let-in. From the season’s snow, and Mister Scrooge's return.

The twelfth-toll. 

The minute-hand passed the twelfth-rung entirely, marching onward to time forever and ever... and the front door did not open.

Understandable. It had slushed more than it had snowed the night previously, making the banks of snow less-pleasant to traverse through by oneself... doubly so, for Prudence would not make traveling conditions any-easier, despite the companionship she provided.

Allowing this consideration, a moment passed without fanfare. A second moment, another... but by the forth, you began to peer at the doorway rather perplexed, a frown gathering on your lips as you squinted out the port-window of the entryway, stretching upon your toes, and still catching no-sight of your employer.

A flicker of... something, unpleasant, crossed your mind.

“Robert-”

“Bob, miss.”

“-Mister Cratchit. Master Scrooge is late.”

“Oh no.” Less of alarm, more of polite-dismissal, the clerk raised his ruddy-nose high-enough over his freshly-inked book to squint-down the corridor to the back-offices, the grand clock sitting proudly at the back. “Hardly even five-after... five minutes after, miss! Hardly a wink in time."

You shook your head, glancing between the unopened door and clock. "Mayhaps, but this is Mister Scrooge we speak off. A man who considers ‘time to-be a finite resource to be transacted sparsely, to avoid its waste.’"

After nearly two-years, Ebenezer Scrooge was nothing, if-not predictable when it comes to stifling-speeches of practicality. You liked to think you did a well-enough mimic of voice and posture too, but the humor is lost quickly when six minutes pass.

A seventh. “He surely hasn’t gotten into an argument of some sort.”

“Mister Scrooge is rather, erm, efficient with those, miss. Doesn’t much-like getting caught up in one such as those.” An eighth, flirting close with the tenth-past the hour.

But Cratchit’s words were true enough; it was quite-possible that the man was among the most stubborn of humankind, the kind to be set-firm as stone, plowing through as efficiently and steadfastly solid as marble.

Which was why you started to pace at the entrance, when the minute-hand reached the first ten-moments of the hour. Sitting at the windowside, two-minutes later, with that cluster of troubled-nerves within you building and building, to the point you feared a combustion would take-place.

The avoidance should have been welcomed. 

Extra-time, even only the length of only a quarter-hour, was something you would normally see as a blessing and something to be welcomed wholeheartedly, entirely, and without any questioning as to the why.

But then you glance at the almost-empty desk, your eyes catching-sight of what exactly made the desk only almost empty.

The sprig of holly doesn't seem as much like a physical taunt, at this moment.

It's motivation.

One you find yourself taking subconsciously, as you rise from your waiting-seat at the windowside, and march over to the coat-rack. With your bonnet shoved over your hair as you tug on your coat, the voice of the bystanding clerk is enough to cut through the fog of your swirling-thoughts, "Leaving sooner than normal? No emergency, I hope?"

"Only the emergency of a search. I worry the worst, Mister Cratchit."

A slow blink, and lowered quill as the man frowned. "For Mister Scrooge? Surely not... yes, it's not-normal that he's absent for so-long, but I'm certain he's right-as-rain-"

"And if he's not?" You demanded, fingers a flurry over the buttons as you bundle yourself up to prep for the outside-chill. "Slicked-cobble is a nightmare, even for a man with a cane. Especially so, mayhaps, and God-knows there's few willing to help him if he's slipped or fallen."

Most would probably laugh, though you-yourself find little-humor in the thought.

"Oh, come now, miss, someone would fetch the doctor, surely! Imagined we would hear Prudence half-the-city away if something befall the fellow, besides-"

"I'm quite certain of it, but I need to be sure!" You insisted, tugging your gloves into place as you turned towards the door, turning to Cratchit in the midst of your strides. "I... I only wish to ensure all is well. If such-is, I'll be back only momentarily-"

The sharp, sudden gust of pure ice to your cheeks was only barely-registered, in time with the modestly-sized office building shaking from the force of the door flung open.

You had very-little time to register these two-sensations.

Even less time, to slow-down enough to prevent the collision, of you striding-out, and your fashionably-late employer marching-in.

Rather spectacularly, soundly colliding against his chest, your hands are coming up too-late to cushion the blow, and curl on his vest. It's only thanks to the sudden-rigidity in your body that you don't stumble-along with the gentleman as he staggers, winded from the blow, and you-yourself are able to keep upright.

Though, your legs feel slightly-weakened at the sharp, flabbergasted inhale that you feel, more than hear.

Another-breath is felt beneath your cheek, after the man finds his center-of-gravity once more, and after the faint deflating of his chest at sharp-exhalation, Prudence slices through the stifling fog of the incident with an excited bark at your feet.

Hands curled tighter, before you push yourself off his chest with chin still tucked-low towards your own. "I-I... You... I apologize, but you were running quite-late."

A poor, poor excuse. And hardly an apology, something Ebenezer Scrooge sincerely agrees with, as evident by his scoff. 

"A typical occurrence, miss, when one requires a detour from average paths."

"Well... yes, but I had-fear that you slipped, the cobbles are quite-slick this evening-"

"My relation with gravity is of such grand-importance to you? Humorous, considering you nearly made me fall-"

"You only did just the same, Mister Scrooge! An accident of equal blame, you can hardly push responsibility solely onto...." You trailed off, a bit lamely, as your gaze has raised in response to man. 

Pompous and sneering as his words are, you quickly take notice that Ebenezer has held himself in such a way that can only be described-best as stiff... he also refuses to look at you directly, line of sight barely-skimming over your brows. 

The non-whiskered skin of his cheeks still host some redness from his exposure to frost, even if the door has already swung-closed behind him. Excessively so, as the flushed-hue upon his skin extends from face, down to neck, peeking upon his ears from beneath his hat...

And...

He's also holding a fresh sprig of holly in a gloved-hand, newer than even the one hosted at his desk. Fist clenched tight about it, as if his body was subconsciously, fiercely opinionated on its existence.

You cannot yet-tell what that opinion might be.

"What... what is that?"

CLICK HERE TO READ THE REST ON AO3

#i can't believe netflix made me do this #AGAIN #scrooge: a christmas carol #scrooge 2022 #scrooge x reader #scrooge 2022 x reader #ebenezer scrooge #netflix #reader insert #this is only 50% joke #guess what the other 50% is #female reader #fanfic #ao3 #archive of our own #writing #christmas

[a-gal-with-taste]

Certainties & Mistletoe | Ch. 3

Summary: Mistletoe, the only decoration the old bastard could bear to stand during the winter-months. You thought it harmless, simple and almost forgettable… but the events it causes, is anything-but.

Ebenezer Scrooge & F!Reader | 5929 Words | Prev.

Tags: Slow-burn, humor, banter, internal-thoughts, boss/employee relationship, maid!Reader, some world-building, pining (?), denial of feelings, confrontations, drinking, historical inaccuracies, canes, Scrooge being a Bastard

The gift of observation was a talent every proper servant of a house or business should be incredibly well-versed in. A requirement, necessity to perform the many duties of the house, and you thought yourself well-practiced, and quite subtle with your own gift of observation...

Then Mister Scrooge turned, leaving the cowering shopkeep to sag with relief at the lack of attention, and now fixed his cool-blue gaze sternly on you instead, completely catching you in your unabashed staring.

You didn't flinch. But you found the subtle threadwork of your winter-gloves suddenly very, very fascinating to study.

"That is thrice now," Lowly he spoke, though his stride was in high-spirits, as the pouch of fresh-collected coat clinked within his coat as he marched past you. "One would think you would learn to be more subtle by the second-time."

You followed after him into the snow-laden breeze upon the streets of London, protest on your frost-chapped lips, "I wasn't-"

"You were, and it is as much unnecessary, as it is unwelcomed." The sharpness in his voice is second-only to the tapping of his cane on cobble. "Manners, miss. I would expect you to remember them, even when not performing in the confines of the building you work in."

Murmuring your assent, you swallowed back a sigh, and silently-chided yourself on your foolishness. Both for your conduct, and for putting yourself into this bloody, unnecessary mess in the first-place.

The hours upon the streets were long, cold, and whatever stark-change had overcome the persona of Ebenezer Scrooge, seemed to have long-dissipated the very instant he marched out onto the streets.

You were falling, yes, but into uncertainty no-longer. Because while you were falling back, as rapidly as you had fallen-out, of normalcy, Scrooge had fallen back into his old ways.

And you felt the fool for thinking anything different.

Militaristic as ever, the Master marches to a tune that is entirely his own, and at least twice as stern as even the most uptight marshal could be. Undaunted by few, and not hesitating to barrel his way past many others, Mister Scrooge was a force of unforgiving nature all on his own.

And you - silly, foolish, far too-caring you - were stuck half-sprinting to keep up with the path of destruction he left-behind.

Prudence was sweet enough to trot a pace or two behind her master's heels, offering a sympathetic woof further-back to you whilst legs burned with the effort of keeping-speed with the man.

"Thank you, dear girl," You whispered breathlessly as you - at last! - passed her to come stand at the gentleman's side. Ebenezer Scrooge was darkly glaring forth at the driving-lanes before him, thick and crowded with enough carriages to at-last stop him in his tracks.

You were sorely tempted to kiss the hands of all the drivers-present, in gratitude, but instead gathered enough frigid air into your lungs to speak, "h...Holiday-rush, I suspect! Plenty of packages, plenty of gifts-"

"Humbug!"

"Oh, it's only traffic, Mister Scrooge-!"

"No, the lot of it!" He declares, scowling as he raises his cane to gesture upon the line of horse-drawn vehicles. A purely venomous expression was affixed on his face, teeth grinding and eyes flashing as he snapped, "Wasting countless -  and for what?? Dying joy, fleeting happiness... it all only lasts a single-day, a wonder any would want to bother with it at all!"

You said nothing. Merely taking advantage of your gift of inspection, eyes trailing from the sharp-cuts of fury, creases of annoyance lining his face, with his knuckles tight enough to tremble on his cane-handle.

Mister Scrooge looked, in all seriousness, like he was bracing to pounce-upon the drivers and all their festive contents. Something that simply would not do.

Carefully, you reached out to place a palm on the dark-wood of his cane. "Indeed, such a season can be quite a headache, when one considers all the work that must go into it..." A slight pressure, a bit pleadingly so, but the gentleman eventually followed the motion of your hands, blessedly lowering his cane back to touch the ground.

"Tis no must, about-it." He grunted once more, clapping one still-shaking hand over another on the handle of his walking-stick. "Though I can't think of any good-reason. A waste in all aspects, not excluding financial."

"Well," You started, tone still treading-carefully, for the last thing you needed was to restrain the man if he truly threw a fit at the drivers. "I cannot speak for the gifts, but as material as they are, I like to think the meaning behind the effort is where the true-gratification lies."

"Humbug." He said once-again, but it's a little less heated, quieter.

"It shows one cares," You state with a simple shrug. "However minimal, however much coin, or whether it is something that can even be held, it matters little. There are a thousand-ways one can display their care, adoration for another. Gifts just happen to be the most physical, and most popular in that regard."

This only earns you a scoff, and round of fingers tapping along on the cane-handle as the miser turns-cheek from you, apparently to study the line of carts on your opposing-side.

"This isn't the only season that one is inclined to give gifts, you recall?" You add, almost curious, as to whether his hate extended beyond the world of winter's festivities, into all holidays of giving.

The tapping grows louder, more rapid with his grunt in the affirmative, but the confirmation is distracted, distant, and only makes you frown. Your hand, seemingly disconnected with your body, reaches out towards the edge of his coat with fingertips brushing on the somber-cloth.

"Mister Scrooge-"

"Hurry along," And now, he is gone. A length cloud of black, his coat billows behind him as heels pivot, with Ebenezer driving himself from your side and down the walking-street, with a force that could rival the hurricane.

And, much to your chagrin, Ebenezer Scrooge was also inclined to rival a hurricane in speed.

Mayhaps he sought to kill-you through exhaustion, you ponder as you weave through thickets of crowds, ducking between shops as you reach the marketplace, and muttering apologies all the while for yourself, and your wayward employer.

"What haste!" A Madame scoffs, looking as ruffled as her fur-lined coat, glowering after the repeating black-clad figure. "I pray it's an emergency, or else, I...!"

"My apologies!" You assure her quickly, smile sympathetic, and strained from lack of air. "Tis is indeed an emergency... one of his coin purse," You add under what-little breath you had left. It truly felt like a three-way chase was being conducted: the bloodhound of a man sniffing out his borrowed gold, with Prudence trotting at a leisurely-pace behind, and you left to chase after them both.

And all the while, you could only think why?  

Why on earth, did you fool yourself with the notion that something was amiss with the Master in the firstplace? That you thought something had gone wrong with the man, when instead there was surely something wrong with you.

Not simply because you kissed the man, though surely that was a first-sign to your newly discovered brand of madness.

But a form of concern? For the welfare of none other than the one and only Ebenezer Scrooge?

Yes, a maid was gifted with skills of observation, and a special-sort of empathy for those they work for, and in your near two-years of employment, you offered a certain sort of care for the man. This went far, far beyond what you were normally capable of providing.

A walking-companion! You thought, finally allowed to slow when seeing the abrupt-halt Scrooge makes before an ale-stall, the bottles gleaming in the lamp-light nearby. I could've offered tea, or simply asked the cause of what thoughts and worries had come to offer change to his personality... not subject myself to such brutal exercise, with nothing to show for it!

Other solutions would have been simpler, especially when it seems any change, shift or departure of normal-attitude of the old-bastard seems to have long-since fled - besides the hasty ‘good-morning’ offered upon your entry, spoken without eye-contact.

Besides that singular incident, now becoming a habit, seemingly nothing had changed in old Ebenezer Scrooge.

And you, panting and leaning delicately at the stall as you staggered to meet your employer already engaged in snarky-discussion of his client, felt like a fool for not seeing it sooner.

There was no shift, no unsteadiness, nor uncertainty that required the closer-examination you sought, when you requested to join Mister Scrooge in the first place.

Ebenezer Scrooge was exactly the same as he was, and as he always would be... a single incident under a sprig of mistletoe, would surely not be enough to change him otherwise.

As proven by his harsh-speech to his very-late client.

"An additional-week, you've cost me," He says, through unclenched teeth as he looks over the curve of his nose at the ruddy-faced brewsman behind the stall-counter. "You're poor at math, as evident by your financial-prowess, but in layman terms, it means you now owe me double."

"Double!" Sputters the man, clasping a hand over his heart like the news caused the organ to sputter-too. "Mister, come now! Tardiness is most unforgivable, I can attest-to, but surely double is a bit harsh-"

"What would be harsh, is if I were to call to those fellows that-a-way," The menacing lender of Cornhill spoke flatly, but there was an almost malicious glint in his pale-eyes as he pointed down the lane, towards a lazy, unoccupied assembly of constables. "And inform them of a thievery, two-weeks in the making."

"You wouldn't-!"

"I would be well-within my rights to," Scrooge points out, no shortage of cold smugness in that sharp-toothed smile. "One-week's tardiness was mercy. I allowed this second-week to commence, moreso out of morbid-curiosity, rather than leniency. I was quite-fascinated to see how long this charade would go on, but it has stopped being entertaining."

"Mister Scrooge, I-"

"Pay. Or, I'll round up the police."

Despite your lungs still aching from your hours-long jogging, your breath caught and was rendered unusable as you looked between the paled-salesman, and your employer. He's drawn himself up practically on his toes, head-high and the glare in his eyes nothing short of deadly, in seriousness.

It's a look you would easily cave-at.

And it's a glare the stall-crafter can only bear a moment longer, before the stalemate ends with his sigh, and reaching beneath the counter.

"I only just gathered it today, Mister," He informed Mister Scrooge quite glumly. "Honest, swear on Her Majesty, 've only just made-back on profits-"

"My deepest, most heartfelt sympathies for your plight." Scrooge responded with a voice completely void of emotion, but the sharp, cruel smirk he soon offers is anything-but. "I'll inspect every coin. Drunkards and thieves are known to paint irons into gold, and I would so enjoy getting the entire sum I am owed back."

"Of course!" Nearly insulted at the insinuation, the man still winces as Scrooge opens the box with a nearly-careless air, catching a wayward coin before it can roll away from his grasp. “Here, now!? Must you-?”

“After a fee two weeks late? I indeed must.”

Smartly, the brewer doesn’t complain, though looked particularly irked when Mister Scrooge oh-so-casually begins to clink and shift his way through the boxed-collection, clearly enjoying the theatrics with a loud hum or low-whistle when he selected one worth bringing up to closer-inspection.

Toying with the brewsman, to the point where even Prudence snorts along with something curiously akin to an eyeroll.

Pity overtakes you for the stranger - many already offered the infamous-man a wide berth, but by association, now the marketman suffers a loss in all-interest from local pursuing clients, who are eager to quicken their step past his stall.

Having reassociated yourself with full-lungs of air, and pity, you quietly lean forth to ask: “Pardon me sir, but what finities do you offer?”

“Oh!” At-last taking notice of you, he’s eager to turn his attention from your employer onto you. “Only the finest , ma'am. Finest in all of the district, perhaps in all of London-!”

“I would think even the Thames ferments better than whatever you have in stock,” Scrooge drawls, frown exaggerated as he lifts a coin between thumb and pointer to bring to examination in the light. “This shade finds more kinship with marigold, rather than gold, wouldn’t you say?”

“I... I wouldn’t know, Mister Scrooge.”

A dismissive scoff as the sovereign was carelessly tossed back-in, while you faintly recalled that the man had recently spoken - and was provided a long, unwanted lecture - from a local florist, likely where a man such as Scrooge learned such precision for shades of flora.

Dismissing that thought yourself, you leaned forth with a more disarming smile, words far more friendly, “I admit, I'm most-curious to know what you offer, and quite the novice to private-brews. Anything of high-remark I should be aware of?”

“All of it, madam, all of it,” He assures you, smiling in relief to have a distraction in the form of a polite lady, though his eyes still glint over to the far less-welcomed gentleman at your side. “Mayhaps... a lady as lovely as yourself would be keen to see for yourself? A sample to soothe the temperaments, yes?” He asked, suddenly eager with his offer, and already ruffling around his stock for a mug.

“Oh,” You leaned back, your own gaze flitting to your employer, who was now actually-engrossed in examining his payment for fraudulent-gold. Even out on the streets, you were still on the clock. “Oh, I don’t know if I should...”

But it’s too late, a cork is already popped off, and a generous amount of amber-liquid poured into what you hope is a clean mug for tasting. “Not a worry, ma’am! Tis the season for relaxation and joy, both of which are assured in th’ brew,” Turning to you, there’s a wink offered as the finity is pressed into your hands. “Not to mention the warmth will keep you a-going in these winter-winds for hours more to come!”

“Well...” Another glance, uncertain as you seem to often-be these recent days.

But Scrooge remains occupied with the gold he pinches between-fingers, squinting down hawkishly onto his payment, seemingly without any care for the rest of the world. Least of all his maid taking a quick sip of a privately-made brew.

And, well... it is bitterly cold this afternoon.

“I suppose,” You murmur, partially into the cup with a final hesitation, before tipping it back to allow the liquid to touch your lips, reach your tongue, slip down your throat-

Oh!

By Her Majesty, you quite-nearly keel over as the pure fire that races down your windpipes like a rifle's bullet, and seemingly finding comfort in lighting a blaze within your lungs. Nearly spilling the mug in your attempts to immediately put it down - more importantly, put it away from you - you gloved-palm nearly slaps over your lips, in an effort to keep from coughing sharply at the sheer strength in a single-sip.

Tears welled in your eyes at the effort, and at the burning...!

A large, furry head presses against your skirts, whining-concerningly as you rasp a prayer from salvation to the almighty around your thick-glove. Apparently, He hears your weak exclamations, as a foreign-hand comes up onto your shoulder. A comfort, though the source of it seems uncertain, jerking slightly upon contact... as if its owner is surprised to have made it himself, or perhaps shocked at willingly-touching another human-being.

“Perhaps I wasn't wrong to proclaim the Thames as the better craftsman.” The snarl cuts though your awareness like a knife, with Ebenezer Scrooge’s tone just as sharp as a blade. “What in the heavens did you give her, fool, arsenic?!”

“'Course not!” The salesman's eyes are wide, as he glances between your overwhelmingly adverse reaction, and whatever your employer's expression contains... based on the poor-man’s rapid pallor, it’s clear Scrooge looks the furthest from pleased. “It's my best-seller 'round these parts! S’got a bit of a kick, yes, but I thought she would appreciate the aftertaste-”

“Indeed, it’s clear that she doesn’t .” There’s a harder press of fingers into your shoulder as you swallow back the urge to cough, before a sharp-slam, and click of a lock falling into place of a coin-box, is heard. “I do hope you fancied borrowing my coin, for you’ll get nothing further from me. Except perhaps a bit of a kick for yourself, should you have the courage to try a stunt like this a second-time.”

Your vision clears, enough to see the salesman holding both palms up in surrender. Looking far from pleased, from what you manage to witness with your blurry-eyes, but far more fearful than to fret over his loss of lender.

Meeting your own, slightly bloodshot gaze as you struggle with the harsh-liquor, the gentleman winces with some sense of guilt, before murmuring his intentions, “I do apologize, truly, sir! I only considered that you might be inclined to forgive m'late pay. P-perhaps further support my lil' business, if your dear-wife showed favor with my wares.”

Your throat still burns, but everything else freezes.

Not excluding the now corpse-stiff hand upon your shoulder. And indeed, Mister Scrooge rasps like he is the wrath of Death itself as he frigidly-growls, “She is not my wife."

The fingers dig through the layers of fabric into your shoulder under his tense grip, one unyielding as he sharply turns you away from the stall, and whatever sputtered apologies the marketman has to offer. You would sympathize if your esophagus didn’t feel aflame, like hell-itself had come to light your throat into a smolder...

Your cheeks are equally heated, in the sheer embarrassment of the whole situation, and no small amount of self-anger at propping yourself here.

What foolishness! Priorly, you thought injecting yourself into the affairs of your employer was enough of a mortification, yet now you see that your own limits to humiliating-displays know no-limitations.

Of course, this should’ve been evident, the moment you chose on a whim and on fool’s tradition, to kiss the very-man who pays your wages. A humiliating display, but certainly not the end of your streak of such exhibitions.

You lower your glove to apologize - the minimal of what you can do in such an ongoing predicament - but the very-instant you attempt to speak, you burst into a coughing fit as the heinous warmth races back-up upon contact with fresh-air, forcing you to a stumbling halt as fresh-tears spring in your eyes.

You’re largely unaware of being ushered for some-semblance of privacy in a nearby alleyway, but entirely aware of the hand still resting upon your shoulder, soon traveling... lower.

It's all very-proper, of course, and... admittedly, a bit clumsy. The hand that comes to rest between your heaving shoulder-blades in your pants, is moreso like one of Prudence's paws with how lamely it attempts to soothe your breathing, providing easier passage of air back into your burning-lungs.

Sadly, it doesn't work.

But the gruff, barely-audible words that somehow manage to reach your ears between the coughing, help ease your coughs more out of shock than anything else, "That's it... In. Out..."

Guidance. It's gruff, rusted and, and certainly lacking much bedside-manner.

But the gentleman is guiding you, urging you with slow, grave words that seem long-since out of practice, in order to get you breathing-clearly once more. And that fact alone is enough to assist in smoother-breathing through your airways, taking-in easier, and easier-breaths as result of Mister Scrooge's guidance.

CLICK HERE TO CONTINUE READING CHAPTER 3 ON AO3

And the shock, that he would be so-willing to do so.

#scrooge: a christmas carol #scrooge #scrooge 2022 #scrooge 2022 x reader #scrooge x reader #ebenezer scrooge #reader insert #netflix #multi chapter #fanfic #scrooge fanfic #fanfiction

[quill-pen]

"I believe people can be quite capable of change. They only need a good heart and someone to believe in them."

~Bess Sullivan-Marley ('Scrooge' reader-insert)

*she says to a rival of Ebenezer's while standing by his side*

*staring the man down--silently challenging him to say something more against her friend*

*like, "Come on--keep going. I'll shove it right down your fat gullet, you pompous ass."*

*"Go on and try me."*

*"We'll see who's left standing."*

#and ebenezer realizes he'll never be able to let her go after that #not without suffering another devastating loss #it's not love yet #but it's well on the way!🤭 #ebenezer scrooge #scrooge 2022 #netflix scrooge #ebenezer scrooge x reader #ebenezer scrooge x you #scrooge a christmas carol #fanfiction #scrooge #scrooge 2022 x reader #scrooge x reader #kind of oc-ish? #i love them so much🥺 #ebeness

[quill-pen]

Scrooge Fanfiction Masterlist

One-shots (Start off as ScroogeXReader then changes to ScroogeXOC as the insert became hr own characters but the idea remains the same)

~Blessing SFW: Scrooge reassures his reader!wife of his love and adoration for her.

A Christmas Confession pt. 1 SFW: On their first Christmas as a married couple, Scrooge and Reader host a Christmas party and put the children to bed with dreams of Santa and sugarplums dancing through their heads.

A Christmas Confession pt. 2 SFW: Still on their first Christmas as a married couple, Reader finally comes to clean to Ebenezer about her feelings for him, despite how she fears his rejection. His response is incredible.

~Not Over Quickly NSFW: While sharing a passionate night with wife!reader, Ebenezer makes something happen that's never happened before.

Making TikToks with Ebenezer pt.? SFW: Modern AU--Ebenezer suggests making a TikTok with you and surprises you with what the subject is.

~Sexy, unnamed fic inspired by prompt 1 NSFW: A snuggly, bookish evening turns a little steamy because Bess just can't keep her hands off her handsome hubby.

Custard, Strawberries, and April Fools prompt inspired 2 SFW: Just a lovely spring picnic between a loving and sweet couple.

~Welcomes Home prompt inspired 3 SFW: Ebenezer returns home to find Bess away. Yet even in her absence, she manages to welcome him home.

Cute, untitled fic inspired by prompt 4 SFW: A sugary sweet moment between our OTP.

~Just so Punny NSFW: Scrooge really does not appreciate puns.

A Good Cowgirl NSFW: Bess is a very good cowgirl--just ask Ebenezer.

~Like George SFW: Some insight into Bess' relationships with some of the main men in her life.

Toddie vs. Ebeness NSFW-ish: Just a comparison of two of my favorite ships in my Scroogeverse.

~She-Wolf NSFW: Just a little passionate doggy-style between our wolfish soulmates.

A Good Man SFW: Ebenezer Scrooge is a good man; Bess just wishes he could see it as easily as she can.

~Somewhere Out There SFW: Bess goes through a rough break-up with her fiancé.

The Queen's Protector NSFW: Bess receives some unwanted attention from another man and Ebenezer comes to her aid.

~Storm Shelter SFW: Bess goes into a spiral after a suffering flashback from her childhood.

Fear the Big Bad Wolf SFW: Ebenezer comforts Bess and makes promises to her after she reveals threatening information.

~In Your Corner SFW: Bess has a rough morning and Ebenezer comforts her.

~Boss (continuation of 'In Your Corner') SFW: Bess finally lays down the law with her housekeeper.

A Father's Regret SFW: Jacob Marley pays another ghostly visit.

~Domesticity SFW: Bess finally makes Scrooge Manor her home.

Deep NSFW: Those hands are magical.

~ Bess SFW: A sorry attempt at poetry based on the moment Ebenezer meets Bess for the first time.

Forever SFW: A comparison of Bess' and Ebenezer's wedding and Bea's and Jacob's wedding. From both the women's and men's perspectives.

~Powder Room NSFW-ish: A short little drabble/thot about our minxy otp.😉

A Good Day to Die NSFW: Another short drabble about some spicy office lovin'.

~A Quiet Evening SFW: In the Sims Scrooge timeline, Bess and Ebenezar--also known as Wolf--share a romantic evening together.

The Wolf & The Moon SFW: Another sorry attempt at poetry.😬

~Tattoo SFW: A little ficlet about a conversation between modern!Bess and Ebenezer concerning scars and tattoos.

Goosebumps SFW: A little poem-ish drabble about our dear former miser through the eyes of his beloved wife.

~Red NSFW: A small drabble centering around a pair of lingerie and the color red. Featuring our beloved wolf-motifed couple.

Pearls SFW: Ethel Cratchit never liked pearls. But she still wanted them because of what they'd come to symbolize for her.

~Blue Moon SFW: Blue moons should be blue. And come in pairs.

Angel SFW: A poem by our favorite former miser as he slowly realizes his love for a freckle-faced, blue-eyed, black-haired American.

~My Bess NSFW: A steamy moment of passion between our favorite pair.

Meet the Scrooges pt. 1 SFW: In the Sims 4 Scroogeverse, Ebenezar--a.k.a. Wolf--finally takes his new wife, Bess, to meet her in-laws.

~ That's Why They're 'The Wolves' NSFW: A little thot set in the Timeless Scroogeverse concerning why our favorite couple are called "The Wolves".

Jealousy SFW (but littered with crude language and overall toxicity): Bess gets engaged. She is thrilled. Oliver and Abigail are not.

~My Big Sister by Millicent Sullivan-Scrooge SFW: A draft of a report Millie writes and reads in one of my fics.

The Declaration SFW: In the DND Scroogeverse, ex-warrior-priestess Bess puts herself between the werewolf she loves and those who would threaten him.

~Draped in Moonbeams NSFW: Ebenezer comes home to a rather lovely surprise awaiting him in the master bedroom.

Timeless Firsts with the Girls: Kisses--Addie SFW: In the Timeless Scroogeverse, Addie tells the girls her experience of being kissed by Tom Jenkins for the first time

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