#i will never ever call him horace

[thetriumphantpanda]

Tale As Old As Time | Joel Miller Fantasy AU (Chapter Two)

Series Summary | A Prince, cursed to be unloved, hardened by years of staring at his scars and sitting in his loneliness. A girl, headstrong and wanting of adventure, to escape the life curated for her, a breath of fresh air against the dark of his heart and his home. Can she really learn to love the beast he has become? Truly, a tale as old as time.

Chapter Summary | A girl, granted reprieve from her cell, but is the extravagant room you find yourself in now just a guided cage? A prince, unsure of himself and what to do, let's his temper get the better of him.

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader (Beauty and The Beast AU) 

Chapter Warnings | Grumpy/Angry Joel. Introduction of some famous friends we all know and love, a girl who has essentially been kidnapped, discussion of food and alcohol but nothing else yet.

Word Count | 4.5K

Authors Note | I am so blown away by the love the first part of this received! I didn't ever think that AU's would be my thing but I'm so excited by this story and I'm excited to bring your part 2! For those of you who loved and enjoyed the original Beauty and The Beast, there's some scenes here which are just for you! I'd love to know your thoughts so if you enjoyed this (or even if you didn't!) then please consider reblogging, commenting or leaving me some asks! And if you'd like to support me further, you can leave a tip on my Ko-Fi.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Did you see her?” One conspiratorial voice asks in a hushed whisper. 

“Poor thing, was scared to death,” The other voice responds, “He’s never going to break the curse if he behaves like this every time someone comes wandering through.” 

There is a third voice added to the mix, “What do you mean, every time someone wanders through?” This voice is sarcastic, “This is the first time in years we’ve seen a single soul.” 

“Maybe this our chance?” The second voice suggests, “Women like her don’t stumble upon souls like us often.” 

“You really think she could be the answer?” It’s the first voice speaking again, “If the master had thrown me in a cell, I don’t think I could ever forgive him.” 

It’s the second voice that decides the plan of action, “There is simply only one way to find out and that is to try.” 

It’s late and Joel has a headache. With the passage of time, he’s stopped thinking of himself a Prince. He might still have his servants and his castle, which is crumbling around him, but outside of that, he is no better than any other man, no different from the people in the villages that surround his once magnificent estate. They don’t remember him; he doesn’t really remember them. He thinks, over the glass of wine he drinks, that it’s probably for the best. All the power and attention had gone to his head, wasting his father’s money on extravagant parties, guests whose names he didn’t know. They weren’t there for him, only for what he offered. They’d have gone to any party where the wine was good, and the music made them soar. 

He finishes the wine in his glass when there is a tentative knock at the door. If it wasn’t for the wine jug being empty, he’d have told whoever it was to leave him alone, to leave him to his nightly stupor, but he wasn’t nearly drunk enough. 

“Enter.” He calls out. 

The door to the reception room opens and closes behind him, then the sound of footsteps and the empty jug being swapped for one that is full. Joel waits for the footsteps to start receding again, but they don’t. He clamps his jaw, trying not to lose his temper. They know to leave him alone in the evenings. Only to come to him to refill his drink at hourly intervals and leave with minimal talk. It was a routine they’d fallen into since the beginning. 

“What will you do with her?” 

It’s Lucian’s voice. Strange, Joel thinks. It’s normally Horace who oversees his nightly refills. The old man clearly didn’t have the courage for this conversation. If he wasn’t so fucking angry, he’d almost praise the younger man. 

“Haven’t decided.” 

Joel turns his head to look at the man. He’s smaller than Joel is, considerably, even before he was turned into a towering monster. Blonde hair with pointed features, and a stature that was so uncharacteristically rigid this evening, that Joel almost laughs. 

“Might I offer a suggestion?” He speaks. 

“You might,” Joel scoffs, “Doesn’t mean I’ll listen.” 

He clears his throat as he pours wine into his cup, perhaps hoping the alcohol might placate his master. 

“She is a girl, and we are running out of time, my lord.” 

“Your powers of observation have always been astounding, Lucian,” Joel replies gruffly, sipping at the fresh cup of wine, “She trespassed, she must face the consequences.” 

“I’m not suggesting she doesn’t,” Lucian assures, “But surely one evening locked in the tower is enough, my Lord, she was terrified.” 

“And then what?” 

“Maybe we bring her down to one of the rooms, make her feel comfortable?” He suggests. 

“So, she breaks into my home, and we reward her, is what you’re suggesting?” Joel turns, face warmed by the fire burning in front of him. 

“I’m suggesting that she is our only hope, sir,” Lucian is pleading now, “Another petal fell this week, none of us have much time left, or we’re damned to remain like this forever.” 

Joel ponders for a moment, mulling it over in his mind. If it had just been himself under the curse, he’d leave the silly girl where she was, but it isn’t just him. He’s got his servants to think about, although they don’t know it, they are more his friends than anything else now, the only people he has spoken to in years, and he knows they’re tired. 

He waves a hand in Lucian’s general direction, picking up the wine glass that is now full, “Do as you will, but she is not to stray to the West Wing, if I find her there, it won’t just be her that ends up back in a cell, understood?” 

“Clearly, sir.” 

The sun greets you early, peering in through the open gaps in the wall, meant to be a window, but only acting as a taunt for its prisoners. You could clearly see outside, out to freedom, but there was no way to reach it. At some point during the night, Phillipe had disappeared, no longer tied to the gate that you can see from the gap. You curse to whichever God will listen for your rotten luck, even if you could escape, the lack of horse would mean you wouldn’t get far before you were struck down by something, or worse, recaptured. 

You lean your back against the wall and bring your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around your legs to try and comfort yourself. The ground is cold and you find yourself wishing for some straw or something, anything to act as a barrier between you and the cold ground you’d spent the night on. 

A little while later you can hear footsteps traveling up the stairs. Maybe now, in the harsh light of day, you’d finally see your captors face. Put features to the deep gruff voice and the large hands that had gripped you last night. It wasn’t to be. The man who comes into view is nowhere near large enough to be the same man who threw you over his shoulder like you were a sack of flour from the miller. This man looks friendly enough when he comes to kneel in front of the bars of your cell. Light blonde hair and a clean face, with friendly eyes. You want to trust him, but this could all be some kind of sick joke at your expense. 

“I brought you some food,” The mystery man speaks, placing a plate down on the ground as he unlocks the cell door, “Are you hungry?” He asks, pushing the plate through the small open gap, kneeling on the floor outside so you’re of a similar height. 

You shake your head and push the plate away with your foot – you have no idea what it could be laced with, even if it is just a lump of bread and some cheese. You try and curl in on yourself, make yourself smaller, hoping whoever this is will take the hint and leave you be. 

“The master can be quite… abrasive,” He starts, “But he means well.” 

You are vaguely aware of another set of feet making their way up the stairs, slower than this man had, but you push it to the back of your mind, “Abrasive?” You snort, “He locked me in a cell for walking through an open door, he is nothing more than a brute!” 

The man in front of you holds his hands up in surrender at your outburst, just in time for another man, still nowhere near large enough to be your captor, to walk up the stairs, clutching at his chest as he caught his breath. 

“I implore you Lucian,” He speaks with a deep voice, still trying to catch his breath, “You leave her where she is, the master didn’t give you express permission for this.” 

“Charming,” You mumble, “Wait, leave me where I am?” Your head perks, “Where else would I go?” 

The man who you now know is Lucian smiles, a genuine, friendly smile, which goes a small way in putting you at ease, “Well, this is no place for a beautiful girl like you, is it?” You return his smile because at this point, you think you’d do anything to not spend another second in this damp cell, “How about we take you somewhere more comfortable?” 

“This is a terrible idea,” The older man, with a full beard and greying hair on his head to match speaks, “I really do think we should leave her here.” 

“Horace, will you please shut up,” Lucian turns and chides him, “Look at her,” He tilts his head back towards you, “She’s terrified, she can’t stay here, and if the master asks, I’ll take the fall.” 

He extends a hand to you and after weighing up another night spent in this cell, you let your own slip into his. Lucian pulls you to your feet and helps brush off some of the dirt from the skirt of your dress, as he motions for you to walk in front of him, “Follow that oaf back down the stairs,” He chuckles, “He’ll be slow going because of his knees.” 

The room that you find yourself in now is a complete juxtaposition to a huge amount of the rest of the castle. None of the windows are broken, it doesn’t smell like the damp musk of the rest of the place, and the bed looks so comfortable you might cry. Your back is screaming from the night on the stone floor of the cell so you don’t think twice about flopping down onto the bed, letting the soft sheets and the mattress sink below you. You’re almost convinced you could fall asleep, until there is a loud knock at the door and then a woman, followed by a small boy invading the room. 

“Oh you must have had a ghastly night up there,” She exclaims, “Only one thing for it, and that’s a strong cup of tea,” She’s picking up a tea pot and pouring the warm liquid into a cup, stirring in some milk and sugar, before the saucer is held in your direction. You take it gratefully and drink, letting it warm your bones, “Drink up dear, we’ve got a lot to do.” 

“I’m sorry…” You trail off, “I’m lost?” 

“That dress has seen far better days,” She points to your clothes, understandably covered in grime from your night in the cell, “And I’m sure you’re absolutely famished, now come on, before Madame Audra appears.” 

You take another sip of the tea, as you watch the young boy rummaging around the room, “And who might you be?” You ask, smiling as he turns to face you. 

“I’m Oliver, Miss,” He smiles widely, walking towards you, “But everyone here calls me Chip.” 

“Chip?” You ask, a giggle to your voice. 

“Yeah!” He exclaims, getting as close to you as he possibly can, lifting his lip to show you his teeth, “Because I fell and chipped my tooth, see?” 

“Oh! How rude of me!” The older woman who has been fussing over the tea trolley exclaims, “I’m Mrs Thompson, and Chip here is my boy, and we’re going to make sure you’re comfortable here.” 

There’s another swift knock at the door before it’s kicked open to reveal a woman, younger than Mrs Thompson but still older than you, arms laden with so many materials that she can barely see over the top of the pile. She’s bustles into the room and drops them on the bed, immediately taking hold of the cup of tea you were enjoying to set back on the tea trolley. She grabs hold of your wrists and pulls you up from the bed, holding up your arms and running you over with her eyes, as if she’s sizing you up. Turns out that’s exactly what she’s doing. 

Whilst she’s fussing over the pile of what turns out to be dresses, you take a closer look at her. She’s beautiful, with smooth skin and friendly eyes, much like the rest of the gang you’ve met today. You wonder how these people have stayed so positive under the employment of such a horrid man. This woman in front of you can only be Madame Audra, and she’s dressed to the nines. You’d read about women like her in your books. Women of high society, with powdered faces and hair that towered on their heads, gowns made of silk and ribbons. She is quite possibly everything you had wanted to find in this world. 

“Now, I’m going to leave you in Madame Audra’s capable hands, we’ve got dinner to prepare, haven’t we Chip?” Mrs Thompson explains, steering the tea trolley out of the room with Chip on her heel. 

As the door closes you can hear Chip speaking to his mother, “See, I told you she pretty, mama.” 

You smile, turning your attention back to Madame Audra, who is holding up a simple dress, the colour of sugared almonds. You remember when your father had brought some back from the city, years ago. You’d eaten them with your mother, already sick and in bed. One of the few good memories you still held of her. 

“This will do nicely,” Madame Audra nods, holding it against your body, “The master will like this, and it’ll look lovely in the glow of the dining hall.” 

“Oh, but I’m…” 

“Well come on, let’s get you out of these dirty things.�� 

“I’m very grateful,” You start, a hand placed on her arm as she tries to turn you to undo the back of the dress you’re already wearing, “But I won’t be going for dinner.”

She stops dead in her fussing over you, eyes wide, “Oh but you must.” She implores. 

“I won’t sit opposite a man who threw me in a cell for waking through an open door.” You stand your ground. 

She’s about to open her mouth to speak when there is a knock at the door. It opens to reveal Horace, the man from earlier, straight-backed and serious. 

“Dinner is served, my Lady.” 

Joel is pacing, mainly through frustration more than anything else, as Lucian and Mrs Thompson set the dining table ready to begin the execution of their master plan. There is a roaring fire lit, warming the room, and all sorts of dishes being carried out and placed upon the table. It’s nothing short of a feast, if he closes his eyes, he could even convince himself that he was the man he once was and he wasn’t about to sit down with a girl who had trespassed into his home and was now seemingly being rewarded for it. If he’s honest with himself, he also might be a little nervous. 

He'd been careful last night to stay in the shadows. He’s not really sure why, because at that point, all he was ever going to do with her was leave her up there to rot, but now he’s glad, glad that he hadn’t seen the look of repulsion on her face as he stepped into the light, showing the mottled skin of his face, scarred and textured as if someone had held his face to a flame for too long. 

“What is taking her so long?” He finally lets out, exasperated, mainly because the food is going cold. 

Mrs Thompson stands near the fire, her hands clasped in front of her, “Do try to be patient, my Lord, the girl has lost her freedom in less than a day, it’s going to take her some time.” 

Lucian decides to add his two pence to the situation, setting down the fork he’s been pointlessly polishing to pass time, “Have you thought that maybe she might be the one to break the spell?” He asks, hope lacing his voice. 

“Of course I have!” Joel exclaims, turning around to face him, “I’m not a fucking fool.” 

Lucian holds his hand up in surrender like he always does, but then claps them together, “Well then, it’s settled,” He exclaims, “You fall in love with her,” He holds out one hand, “She falls in love with you,” His other hand now held out, “The spell is broken, and we all go back to normal.” 

“Oh Lucian,” Mrs Thompson sighs, “It’s not that easy, love takes time.” 

Joel can feel his stomach sinking, hope had flourished before, at the idea that perhaps this might work, that these people who have surrounded him for years might be right, but when he thinks to the way he looks, face scarred, frame so big he would scare anyone who saw him, he realizes it’s no use. The enchantress had been right, no-one could ever learn to love him. 

“It’s no use,” He sighs, teeth gritted in frustration, he’s got a hand on the mantle above the fire, clenched in a fist, “She’s so beautiful,” He admits, because you are, even when fear had covered your features, you were quite possibly the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, “And I’m like this.” He points to his face.

Mrs Thompson moves to stand closer to him, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder, “Then you need to help her see past all this, don’t scare her with that intimidating scowl you always wear.” She points to his face. 

“And when she comes in,” Lucian adds, “Smile at her, make her feel welcome.” 

Joel listens back and forth as the two of them give him advice on how to behave when the girl finally arrives. Compliment her. But be sincere. Impress her with your whit. But be gentle. But above all, you must control your temper. 

It’s almost overwhelming, he can feel anger and embarrassment flooding through his body. He’s about to demand they stop when the door opens. He holds his breath, standing up straight, but then it’s only Horace’s portly figure that emerges over the threshold. 

“Where is she?” Joel demands. 

“Well, you see,” Horace begins, “Circumstances being what they are….” He trails off, taking a deep breath and steeling himself for the wrath he knows he’s about to be on the receiving end of, “She’s not coming.” 

“What?” Joel speaks calmly, although there is rage flowing through his veins, threatening to bubble over at any time. 

Before he really knows what he’s doing, he’s stomping, feet heavy, from the dining hall. He can feel everyone else following being him, but all he can focus on is how rude this girl is being. Beautiful, but the most stubborn woman he’s ever met, and he’s known her for less than a day. How dare she refuse him? He should have left her where she was to rot in the tower. 

There is a pounding at the door, so fierce you’re surprised it doesn’t break, “You were told to come down to dinner!” 

You look towards Madame Audra who has fear in her eyes, imploring you to placate whoever the man is currently shouting at you, but you can’t. He’s taken your freedom; you won’t let him control you as well. 

“I’m not hungry!” 

“You come out right now, or I will break down this door!” 

Unbeknownst to you, it isn’t just the master on the other side of the door, but Mrs Thompson, Lucian and Horace too. They’re all looking at each other, knowing that the talk they’d had with Joel in the dining hall has been forgotten, his anger taking over as it always does. They’re all trying to convince each other to talk, through knowing looks, surely one of them can help salvage this situation. 

It is Lucian who takes the initiative, “Master, I could be wrong,” He rubs his hands together in front of him, his own nervous habit showing through, “But that probably isn’t the best way to win the girls affections.” 

“Please, just attempt to be a gentleman.” Horace adds, making sure he’s standing behind Lucian, so he has a chance to escape if Joel feels the need to take his anger out on anyone.

“How can I when she’s being so difficult?!” Joel hisses, pointing towards the door. 

“Just ask her nicely,” Mrs Thompson implores, “Don’t demand.” 

Joel takes a deep breath and turns back to the door, the three pairs of eyes trained on his back as he digs deep and tries to remember what it means to be a gentleman, though he’s not been one for some time. 

“Will you come down to dinner?” 

The answer is almost instant, “Absolutely not.” 

Horace is already trying to tame Joel’s frustration when he turns back around to them, “Gentle, be suave, my Lord.” 

Another sigh, and another turn back to the door, his voice strained, trying to control his anger to destroy something from the rejection, “It would give me great pleasure if you would join me for dinner, please.” He speaks through gritted teeth, not quite believing that he is the one begging when she was the one who trespassed. 

“No thank you!” You call back through the door. 

“You can’t stay in there forever!” 

“Yes I can!” 

“Fine!” Joel shouts, “THEN YOU CAN GO AHEAD AND STARVE!” He bellows at the top of his lungs, turning around to his servants who are cowering across the hall from him, “If she doesn’t eat with me, then she doesn’t eat at all!” 

He stalks off back down the corridor, slamming the door at the end of it shut behind him. Madame Audra leaves the girl’s room, looking to her fellow servants before shaking her head. She’s not quick enough in closing the door, because all four of them can hear the racking sobs coming from the room. 

“Well, that went terribly.” Mrs Thompson muses, wanting nothing more than to storm into the girl’s room and embrace her. 

“Lucian, you stay right here,” Horace directs, slipping right into his role as head of the household in a crisis, “If she attempts to leave, you inform me immediately,” He runs a hand over his greying beard, “We need to be careful with this, she’s a firecracker, and anymore wrong moves and he’ll have her right back up in the cell,” Then he turns to Mrs Thompson and Madame Audra, “Household meeting in the kitchens.” 

taglist: @sinsofsummers @dinsdjrn @tightjeansjavi @morning-star-joy@darkroastjoel @cavillscurls @cupofjoel @patti7dc@drewharrisonwriter @casa-boiardi @partyofone3413

#Joel Miller #Joel Miller smut #Joel Miller angst #Joel Miller au #Joel Miller fic #Joel Miller fanfic #Joel Miller fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us au #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou au #Joel tlou #Joel the last of us #the last of us fic #tlou fic #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x female reader #Joel Miller x f!reader #Joel Miller Pedro pascal #Pedro pascal #TAOAT #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction

[forgedroyalseal]

A worthwhile fight:

The bruise on his eye was a mottled pattern of black and indigo, with yellow just starting a creep in on the edges. The orange glow of the fire did nothing to warm the battered skin. It was violent and harsh and it made Alyss’ stomach flip every time Will turned his head. Like now, as he looked over at her and offered a grin that split his face from ear to ear, smiling as if he wasn’t in the aching pain she knew he had to be in.

“Come join us ‘Lyss.” He extended his arm towards her and his sleeve slipped down his arm, revealing a wrist ringed in roped burn. She hesitantly sat between him and George, careful to not bump into him. As Will launched into another story, Alyss tried to force her trembling hands to still. But all she could think about is how close they had been to losing Will for good. How if Horace had arrived just a few minutes later, they’d be standing around his casket. And how none of the others seemed to care. How Will didn’t seem to care.

It was suddenly too much to bare and she stood abruptly and made her way into Will’s cabin. She ignored the calls of her friends as she let the door fall shut behind her. A moment later, she hears Will slip inside after her.

“Is everything okay love?” He asks gently, wrapping his arms around her from behind. Instead of melting into him like she normally would, she shrugged out of his grasp and moves away from his warmth.

“Why does it feel like I care more about your life than you do?” She bites out.

He frowns in confusion. “Alyss, of course I care-“

“Then why don’t you act like it? You are constantly putting yourself in danger. Is it some kind of hero complex? Or a guilt thing? Trying to be like your father, like Halt? What are you trying to prove? What is it will?”

“It’s my job Alyss.” He spoke calmly, with none of the anger she felt, which only made her angrier.

“But it doesn’t have to be! You don’t have to be putting yourself in constant danger. You could step back, be a strategist, take Cassandra up on her offer to have you work at Castle Araluen. With a mind like yours Will, you don’t have to be out in the field all the time.”

Will looked at her with a hurt expression. “I could never live my life locked up in some stuffy office Alyss, you know that. And I certainly couldn’t make plans that put other in danger while I sat back and watched.”

“You could. You’re just choosing not to.”

Disappointment leaked into his sigh. “Alyss, I don’t want to fight with tonight. I just got back. Can we just, enjoy the evening with our friends?”

“No. I can’t just enjoy the evening. Because everything time I look over at you and see your battered face, I’m reminded of the fact that you don’t care enough about me to keep yourself safe.”

“Alyss, I get that you’re upset, but you’re not being fair. You have a dangerous job. You’re sent away on assignment for months at a time with zero contact. You think I don’t worry about you every waking moment? That I don’t have nightmares of you getting hurt or dying? But I know that you love what you do. How could I ever ask you to give it up just so I feel better?” Will rubbed a hand across his eyes. “I couldn’t ask that if you. I love you too much to ask you give up such a fundamental part of yourself. I guess I just thought you loved me like that too.”

Alyss stares at him in shock. “It’s, it’s not the same.” But even to her, the defense fell flat.

“Maybe not.” Will admits. “But it’s not that different either. Alyss, we are engaged. I don’t want to go into our marriage with you holding this resentment against me and my career. I think we need to take some time to seriously talk about what each of us thinks our future together is going to look like.”

Alyss leans against the wall and lets her knees fold under her. Will joins her on the floor, so close that she can feel him pressed up beside her from her shoulder to her ankle. “I can’t lose you Will.” She rests her head on his shoulder.

“I wish I could promise you that you won’t.”

“You could.” Alyss knows she sounds like a child, but she can’t find it within herself to care. She knows she’s fighting a losing battle, but that doesn’t mean she’s willing to just roll over and accept defeat.

She feels him shake his head, “Alyss, I could die tomorrow. I could fall from Tug and hit my head. I could trip and break my neck. I could be attacked by a mugged. We can’t know how or when we’ll die. But I do know that there are two things in this world I can’t live without. You, and this.” Will’s hand dips under the loose neck of his shirt and he pulls the silver oak leaf pendant up.

Alyss glared at the piece of silver. “You are so much more than that Will.”

He shakes his head and presses the pendant against his chest with reverence. “Being a ranger gave me a purpose. It gave me a place in this world. I didn’t know who I was, who I could become, before Halt offered me an apprenticeship. I don’t know how to make you understand that I can’t, I won’t, walk away from this.”

Alyss didn’t understand, and perhaps she never would, but what she did understand is that she wanted to spend whatever amount of time she could with Will by her side. “Okay.”

He looked at her, eyes wide with hope. “Okay?”

She nodded, “I’ll never like seeing you in pain or risking your life, but when you proposed, I agreed to love you forever, all of you. Even the parts I don’t understand.”

Will turns her head and kissed her lightly. “Thank you. And I promise to be as careful as I can be. I don’t want to leave you any sooner than absolutely necessary. I’ll always do my best to come back to you.”

#rangers apprentice #ranger's apprentice #will treaty #ranger’s apprentice fanfiction #rangers apprentice fanfiction #alyss mainwaring #fanfiction

[araluen-arrows]

underrated scenes from the burning bridge

- the very beginning, when Gilan stumbles up Halt’s front step and Halt knows it’s him before even opening the door. (also, in that same scene, Will trying to be equally nonchalant and failing when Halt calls his bluff)

- the first time Gilan trains Horace in the sword, and Horace is all “oh I don’t want to hurt you” before spending the next two minutes trying unsuccessfully to separate Gilan’s head from his shoulders

- “jump off the cliff. it’ll be less messy that way.” 

- the moat scene, which is probably evenly-rated instead of underrated, but is so good that it deserves a mention anyway. Alyss is Halt’s kid too, god damn it!!

- when Horace, Will, and Gil find Celtica deserted, and they’re trying to think of why, and Horace says it was a new strain of plague that dissolves bodies into thin air

- Horace fuckin owning the robbers who tried to get him and Will while they were practicing swordwork

- Gilan leaves Will in charge of the Celtica mission while he returns to Araluen (the first mission he’s ever led!! god I’m so proud!! also iconic because this is the first time he, Horace, and Evanlyn are adventuring together it’s great)

- Evanlyn gives Will the rest of her pickles as a peace offering and doesn’t tell him, and when Horace tells him what she did, he feels bad, and ohh my god they’re my children

- Horace and Will finding the Celtic miner and carrying him to die in the darkness

- Evanlyn refusing to leave Will as the Skandians are attacking, because they might have a chance to put out the burning bridge. Evanlyn picking up his bow and attempting to shoot Erak before getting captured. that’s MY queen

- Morgarath goading Halt into single combat by saying he’s captured his apprentice,,,, oh my god my heart

- this will never be rated enough. Horace, at the age of fuckin sixteen, throwing himself underneath a charging battlehorse and killing Morgarath with the Ranger double knife defense

- this will also never be rated enough: “will! stay alive! don’t give up! i’ll find you wherever they take you!” that sound u just heard was my heart cracking in half

#rangers apprentice #the burning bridge #will treaty #horace altman #halt o'carrick #john flanagan #ranger's apprentice #brb sobbing over the last scene

[millard-nullings-shoulders]

I can't sleep, so here's some headcanons for fun!

Jacob Portman

-While he claims to have never done any "teenager things" (sneak out, drink, etc), he actually has. Him and Ricky once drank cheap beer on the dock at night. It wasn't all that great, so he didn't wanna do it much again.

-He's the type to cuddle in his sleep, and he is like a space heater! This isn't even just limited to romantic partners.

-Have I said his special interest as a kid was his grandfathers stories? Well guess what his other one was! Pokemon. And he had everyone memorized, and told his grandpa about all of them.

Emma Bloom

-Can't sing to save her life. It's almost sad to watch her try.

-Has told Bronwyn every single detail about her romantic issues. Be it complaining about Abe not writing enough, or Jacob being...strange at times.

-Once punched a guy trying to hit on her at the pub. It was amazing.

Hugh Apiston

-We all know he's in a relationship with Fiona, but did you know he's also in a relationship with Millard? They keep it low key in front of others, but it's not hard to pick up on. Especially with how much the two touch and hang off of each other as friends.

-He avoids his chores that are inside, specifically so he can be outside with Fiona while she does her choirs. He's clingy to her, but she finds it cute.

-He has three freckles on his forehead that just so happen to look like the three eyes a bee has on the top of their heads.

Fiona Frauenfeld

-She is quiet, but she's not shy in any way. She's playful and funny, actually. Especially with Hugh. Actually, of the two of them, she's the more dominant in the relationship, calling the shots and planning the dates.

-She hates brushing her hair, that's why it's so wild. Later, she gets it fixed, but Hugh has to be the one to force her to sit down so HE can brush her hair. She pouts about it.

-More than anything, she wants to have a big family with Hugh. Ever since they met, before the loop, she wanted to marry him and have a ridiculous amount of kids. Hugh however, has a hard limit of three at the most. She'll convince him otherwise someday.

Enoch O'Conner

-He's an AMAZING artist. He spends his whole day carving figures and drawing. He's very talented.

-He was jealous of Jacob coming to the loop, not because of any crush on Emma or anything like that. He was jealous because Jacob showed up and was automatically liked. Enoch gets kind of singled out at times. He's at an awkward age between being one of the little ones and one of the older boys. He doesn't fit in, and seeing someone do that so easy kind of hurt his feelings.

-Once called Miss Peregrine mum and has not lived it down sense. He'll randomly remember while he's trying to sleep and just cringe to himself for hours.

Horace Somnusson

-Is the best singer out of all the boys. Though, that's not too surprising there.

-Anytime anyone rips their clothes or pokes a hole in them, he'll fix it. He won't even wait to be asked, he WILL find out and he WILL fix it. Fiona is the most inconvenienced by this.

-He's also in an awkward stage of being between the little ones and the older ones. This just makes him frustrated since he wants to be grouped in with all the older boys.

Claire Densmore

-By far the most spoiled acting out of everyone in the entire loop. Not for any particular reason, she just does. She's a princess and she knows it.

-She can get kind of bratty when she's playing with Olive, but nothing too bad. Just a lot of wanting to do things her way. Mostly changing game rules randomly to benefit her.

-She hates eating her vegetables. She'll pout about it the whole time before she gives in and eats them.

Olive Elephanta

-This little girl is a firecracker. She's loud. She's rowdy. She'll scrape her knee and think nothing of it. Just a ball of pure sunshine.

-One time she forgot to fully belt herself to her bed, and got woken up when she bonked her head on the ceiling. She managed to laugh it off though.

-She is the master of cheering people up when they're sad. Enoch is grumpy about something? She gets a chuckle out of him. Fiona is having a bad PTSD day? She's helping her in the garden. Jacob is anxious again? She's telling him really bad jokes.

Bronwyn Bruntley

-In a modern setting, you cannot explain memes to her. You can try all you want, but she just won't get it. She tries, but it just won't click.

-We stan an aroace icon. She does not get it when Emma and Fiona talk about their relationships. She especially didn't understand when her brother would talk about his crushes to her.

-Every week or so, she likes to take a relaxing bath in very hot water. Her muscles tend to get tense, and it helps her relax them. When she discovers lush stores in modern day, she nearly cried with joy.

Victor Bruntley

-This boy is as gay as you could possibly be. He's listened to the boys talk about finding women attractive, he was in the closet at the time, he tried to play along. He convinced no one at all.

-He breaks things way too often. Half the time it isn't even from his strength, he just can't keep his shit together. Though, he does break Enochs jars on accident a lot when he's helping opening them up. A lot of cuts from that.

-He speaks Welsh to his sister often and because no one else in the loop understands? They kind of gossip to each other about things.

And last but not least, my lovely boyfriend UwU

Millard Nullings

-He's got some great shoulders He's a lot stronger than most people expect him to be. Sure he's the nerdy one of the group, but that doesn't mean he's weak in any way.

-He and Hugh tend to get a bit rough when they play football together. Usually ending in a few kicked shins, mild bruising, and grass stained clothes.

-He actually likes wearing his clothes, he just doesn't like being stuck up in the house all the time. He likes to go out, but he can never dress up for it.

-Did I mention he has some great shoulders?

#mphfpc #miss peregrines home for peculiar children #jacob portman #emma bloom #hugh apiston #fiona frauenfeld #enoch o'connor #horace somnusson #claire densmore #olive elephanta #bronwyn bruntley #victor bruntley #millard nullings

[breaniebree]

SNEAK PEEK! Chapter 22 - The One with Rampara

When they arrived in the dungeons, Slughorn beamed at them.  “Ah, my favourite Aurors!  Come in, come in!”

Higgins closed the door of the potions room behind him and nodded at Borage.  Libatious Borage and his wife, Lara, had rented a small cottage in Hogsmeade while they were staying to work with Slughorn.  Borage and Slughorn had both agreed that rediscovering such an important potion meant that they had a lot of work to do and were writing a paper together on both how the potion worked and its historical use, as well as using it in a modern way.  Borage had no plans of returning to Brazil until everything was wrapped up and Harry was grateful for the old man’s help.

“Good afternoon, Mr Borage, Professor,” Harry said.

“Ah, Horace is fine, Harry!  I’m no longer a professor after all.  I’m retired!”  Slughorn exclaimed.

Harry only pursed his lips.  He wasn’t quite sure he would be comfortable calling the man, Horace.  “How are you two coming along with the potion?”

Borage rolled his shoulders back.  “It has been a real challenge.  I regret having to ask you for an audience with Fleamont, but rather unfortunately it turned out to be useful.”

Harry bit back a chuckle.  Borage had sent him an owl asking if he could stop by to speak to his grandfather’s portrait, surprising Harry as he knew that the two men held a continued animosity towards each other.  Borage and Fleamont had originally met over seventy years ago when his grandfather had invented Sleekeazy’s hair potion.  A few months later, Borage published a book called “Have Yourself a Fiesta in a Bottle” which boasted its own haircare potion recipe.  The potion wasn’t even remotely the same, but it started off a lifelong feud of friendship and animosity between the two men.  They exchanged letters arguing over everything and almost never agreed on anything.  Lara and Euphemia however did become close friends and often mocked their husbands both behind their backs and to their faces.  Whenever Borage would publish a new book, Fleamont Potter would immediately read it cover to cover and then edit it, intentionally pointing out mistakes and different ways to brew potions and send it back to Borage.

Borage was well into his nineties now and still as sharp as ever.  Harry knew that calling him in to help Slughorn with this had been the best decision he could have made.  When he’d brought Borage and Slughorn over to Clevedon Court the other night to speak with Fleamont’s portrait, the two old men had been as amusing as ever.

“Hey, Pop,” Harry said, waking up the portrait hanging on the wall.  “I brought some guests over who would like to speak with you about this potion that they’re working on.”

“Guests?”  Fleamont demanded, his eyes wide.  “I’m always willing to talk to guests about potions.  As long as it’s not that damned — bloody hell!”

Borage smirked.  “Good evening, Monty.”

“Lib.”

Slughorn chuckled.  “Well, I for one am absolutely tickled, Mr Potter.  Big fan of your work.”

“He’s a two-bit hack,” Borage spat. 

Slughorn frowned.  “Well, that’s not true at all, Libatious!  After all, we’re coming to see him for advice.”

“Ha!”  Fleamont exclaimed.  “You need advice from a real Potioneer, do you?  What did I tell you, Fee?  Not as good as me, is he?”

Borage rolled his eyes.  “Well, since you’re so good, Monty, perhaps you can help us with this.  Horace and I have been working on a potion that’s come up in one of Harry’s cases as an Auror.  It’s the Melanotaeniidae Reflection Potion that was lost centuries ago.”

Fleamont’s eyes widened in surprise.  “Blimey!  Are you sure?”

“Oh, quite sure, Mr Potter!”  Slughorn said eagerly.  “We brewed it ourselves and did every test possible to confirm it.”

Fleamont looked pensive.  “What’s the concern then?”

“The time process,” Borage said.  “Now that we’ve worked on the woman who was given the potion, we estimated roughly three months before the potion would officially wear off.”

Slughorn and Borage took turns to explain the potion to Fleamont from ingredients, down to brewing options, down to the steps they took to reach their conclusions.  Harry got lost somewhere among the different variations of fish scales and freshness before he tuned in again when his grandfather spoke.

“Sounds to me like everything is right, Lib.  But you’re forgetting one thing.  If you really did all of that and got her heart beating once more, it’s not the Melanotaeniidae Reflection Potion that’s the problem.  You need to break down the resurrection potion in more detail and compare it to the makings of the Melanotaeniidae Reflection Potion and see how it all interconnects.  There could be side effects or things that clash between them.  When you add in the use of runes, well… blood sacrifice is a tricky thing when it’s used in magic.”

“How so?”  Harry asked, making Fleamont turn his attention onto him.

“Runes used in dark magic are different from regular runes and if they were built into an existing resurrection potion where a blood sacrifice was used and added to the use of the Melanotaeniidae Reflection Potion… it’s not so much the potions themselves that will be the problem as much as the blood sacrifice.”

Harry frowned.  “What does that mean exactly?”

Borage ran a hand over his wrinkled face.  “It means that we might have to start looking at potions connected to a blood ritual… there could be more we don’t understand there.”

“Wait, are you saying that there could be a potion that could help counter the sacrifice aspect of Zee’s condition?”  Harry asked.

Fleamont shook his head.  “Perhaps something that could help, but counter it… I wouldn’t bet on it, no.”

Slughorn, Borage, and Fleamont began to discuss the potions in more detail again.  They spoke for more than hour, half of which involved Borage and Fleamont arguing as Slughorn watched in amazement.  When Harry said goodnight to them he wasn’t sure the visit had really done much to help.  Getting an owl from them the next day asking for a visit was definitely a hopeful sign.

“So, what do you have to share with us?”  Higgins asked, bringing Harry out of his memory of the evening before.

#harry potter fanfiction #breanie #the world of asc #chapter sneak peek #the kismet trilogy #the kismet trilogy by breanie #third times the charm

[lazlolullaby]

Lost Royal Eugene Plot Bunnies~

hot takes and plot ideas on Eugene and his royal heritage being significant to how he ended up as a thief...because the brainworms are wriggling again

Normally in these kinds of fantasy stories, there’s a letter, or an item, or even a caretaker that stays with the Lost Royal and reveals the truth either when they’re old enough or when the chips are down.

Eugene doesn’t have that. He didn’t have that at all.

It can be argued in the movie (if he knew) he didn’t mention it because -

A (the letter): he just met Rapunzel 2 days ago, she’s not getting everything at once. Plus if he has proof his family abandoned him, even for good reason, it still hurts.

B (Royal item): he’s got a family heirloom that’s stashed somewhere that he can’t sell because he’s sentimental. May or may not know where it came from. Backed up by: the entirety of Tangled and also: the engraved comb and the scrapbook of wanted posters from RTA.

C (caretaker): He’s proudly a Thief, and a New Adult, who wants to tell their parental figure what they’re actually doing for a living??? This is assuming that they’re a Decent Person - if they were abusive and Eugene paralleled that with the Gothel situation - hoo boy now that’s a rabbit hole filled with plot bunnies~

The only thing Eugene ever had in his possession that hinted to his Royalty was a two-headed coin. That’s it. I suppose that was part of Edmund’s master plan - keep him as far from the Royal Line as possible so he would never find the Moonstone at all.

But he was carried away as a baby - he had to have had a nursemaid at least to feed him.

So in canon. We’ve got a gap between being sent away as a baby and being a “employed” by the Baron as a teenage thief.

I’ve uhh...got a theory.

The world isn’t kind to immigrants. Even in a lighthearted "never say die”, fantasy world, it’s going to be rough. The nursemaid (for funzies, let’s call her Claire) tries to support herself and baby Horace. And some people are kind enough, but there’s people that see Horace as a meal ticket, an obligation or a trade for a later reward when he’s King.

So Claire changes their names and runs, further than anywhere anyone she’s known has ever been. Claire throws herself into maintaining an orphanage in Varadaros, essentially hiding orphan Eugene in a stack of orphan needles.

Meanwhile, a Princess is stolen and a King tries to eradicate every criminal possible. The unlucky who are accused of more than what they're guilty of flood Varadaros.

The panic creates a power vacuum and one man rises to the top of the dust heap ; a man who styles himself as royalty, mimicking their manners and excess. The Baron.

Plague happens and there's no magical Flowers to save anyone. Claire dies when Eugene is around five, young enough to vaguely remember her voice but not her face. Claire’s possessions are gone through and divided.

The letters for Eugene are read. At first they think it’s a joke - ah, of course her favorite kid is a Prince! What a funny family joke! But the more they talk to others - they realize that he does line up with the facts.

Word gets out. Sure, it’s not the Lost Princess, but it’s something.

The Baron hears about it. And the one thing he wants that he can’t ever have is a Royal Title. So he shows up at the orphanage. Talks to them real gentle-like. Tells them to look the other way when he brings Eugene over to his gang.

They refuse.

Baron puts the pressure on the orphanage, threatening them and cutting off their supplies. And - in an effort to save everyone else - they relent. Baron gets the Royal item and the letter. It’s lucky that Stalyan takes a shine to Eugene - they could legitimately marry and cement the title in their family. If he doesn’t work out - he still has the letter, he could pass off another kid as Horace. It’s not like there’s a shortage of brown eyed kids anywhere.

And that's the story of how Prince Horace was swindled out of his destiny for the first time.

#eugene fitzherbert #king edumund tangled #edmund rta #baron rta #rapunzels tangled adventure #tangled speculation #rta analysis #the thought's been marinating in my brain for 2 years #and the recent eugene appreciation brought it back up to the top #i feel really sorry for this guy he really got steamrolled by the plot #i love fanfiction gives me a way to wriggle my way in and out of writing conventions #like my own little enrichment maze of holey canon

[chernikastan]

I keep seeing people believe, quite firmly so, that Gou is gonna leave the series once Scarlet and Violet release. But... the only reasonings I ever see for that boil down to "because that's what it's always been like". So now I decided I will list all the reasons why I don't think so and why Anipoke fans should consider the fact that yes, the series is perfectly capable of not sticking to status quo, which PM even repeatedly proved throughout its run so far. Have fun reading my rambling xhfhfhfgf

- Shortly before the announcement of PM, anipoke_pr was created to advertise the new series. While also just a sensible decision in the online world, this marks a notable difference in the marketing of the series.

- Among the advertisements, the sentiment of this time there being two protagonists got highlighted. Gou was the first new character to be introduced. Back in Diamond and Pearl, Dawn was advertised as the second protagonist too though and she visibly took over that role.

- When he got announced, anipoke_pr also showed a concept art from Ken Sugimori, the main character and Pokémon designer for the games since the beginning. Although not all of them have been designed by him, every canon character and Pokémon in the main games has an official artwork by him. Alongside Gou, the only anime-only characters to have that are Team Rocket. As far as I know, the post never specified if Sugimori also designed him, but the artwork does look like a (at least finalised) concept artwork, so it's pretty likely.

- Due to the begin of the Reiwa period in Japan, the directors of the anime said that the series went back to just being called Pocket Monsters to mark the new period. The last time the series was just called Pocket Monsters was the very first season. (Thus why I call it PM in this text instead of Journeys)

- Ever since PM, the anime had a couple notable changes to the storytelling: Satoshi (Ash) does not own any of the new starters, he did not catch the regional bird Pokémon of SwSh (Rokidee), the story takes place over all regions, not just Galar, he owns Pokémon that fans have been hoping for him to have in a long time (like Lucario), he doesn't take on the regional gym challenge, despite Galar emphasizing on gyms more than ever.

- Notably, the episode about how Gou and Tokio (Horace) met is the first episode in the entire series that doesn't even mention Satoshi or Pikachu. Keep in mind this never happened before in over a thousand episodes.

- Gou is, very boldly so, based on Pokémon Go. So unlike any of the previous companions, he is not based on something specific to the new mainline games, but a massively popular mobile game that exists alongside them. Since Pokémon Go adds a new generation each year, by 2024 it will be the only game that lets you catch every Pokémon. Just like Gou's goal. His sweater is by the way a permanently available clothing option that you don't have to buy extra in the game. Him being based on an unrelated game also means one should question why, if he leaves at all, it should be tied to the mainline games' releases.

- On the 25th anniversary date, anipoke_pr uploaded a special video focusing on Satoshi. In it they showed, in chromological order, every moment at which he met one of his Pokémon. Then at the end it highlights the moment he met Gou. Gou is the only other human character to appear, let alone be highlighted, in that video.

- There's a bunch of notable storytelling aspects: The series focuses mainly on showcasing and developing the relationship between the two. They very boldly want you to know that Satoshi and Gou have become very close friends that desire to share a future together (v gay btw heheh). The end of the Mewtwo episode shoves it into your face with Satoshi correcting Gou and saying the future lies in both their hands whilst crossing them. Aside from that being a blessing for shippers, it makes it very clear that this is meant to tell others these characters come in a pack now. There's no Satoshi without Gou and no Gou without Satoshi, they both take the main role together and keep it. Alongside that, we have episodes highlighting and paralleling their goals. That happens in the one where they have to lead a group of younger kids through town as well as in the Project Mew episode with Drake. Back in AG, Drake's advise to Satoshi was very important for the story. Same here, when Drake inspires them by saying that once he reached a goal, he'll just look for another one, because the journey is what matters, not the goal.

- I've seen a lot of people say Project Mew is a means to write Gou out of the series. Why exactly that should be the case, I'm not sure. He has joined the project now, yet has still more than enough time to watch Satoshi's tournament. It has been shown that the next thing Project Mew has to face is Regigigas, with Mew still not in sight. Dropping Gou at this point would mean dropping the entire plotline of at least facing Mew, which would be an incredibly strange decision after having hyped it up for so long.

- Talking about weird decisions, anipoke first and foremost exists as a big advertisement to sell the games and merchandise. It's part of why Pokémon is such an enourmous franchise. Creating a character to advertise their super popular and lucrative mobile game is a pretty smart idea. Dropping that character again after three years after having deliberately designed him for that purpose isn't. I've heard people argue that "Pokémon Go is popular enough, it doesn't need advertising", but by that logic something like McDonald's can stop advertising too because everyone knows McDonald's. However the fact that they keep advertising is how they make sure they keep driving in new customers as well as maintaining the ones they already have. Same with Pokémon. The franchise is so extremely successful exactly because they keep advertising towards new kids (and people in general) despite the already existing success. In other words, from a marketing perspective, it makes no sense to create a character to advertise a game, then drop him just because despite said game still being relevant. More likely than not, Gou will exist for as long as Pokémon Go is a thing that's getting updates etc. So good luck getting rid of him, haters, the gay cartoon boy you hate so much is here to stay.

Idk if I have missed anything now. If so I might just add it to the list. But yeah, I've wanted to do an extensive post about this for a long time. Because we know people who hate Gou try to find any excuse under the sun why he's gonna leave because they want it to happen so badly. But I am also mildly disappointed in the people that do love the character, but instead of doing their research just blindly believe the haters when it comes to this. Because I've really tried to find reasons to believe him leaving so strongly, but all that happened is that I found out how much the "Gou stays" arguments outweigh the other side lol. I guess thanks for encouraging me to do research to make me prove my point.

Now granted, of course it could still, despite everything, be the case. But I just want people to know that it's not the obvious outcome that many think it is. So I'll just keep sticking to my points and if they drop him after all... I'll go on with my life and keep drawing whatever I like, what do you expect me to do dgdgcgdgsg

Thanks for reading my little rant to the very end ugu nya

#anipoke #gou pokemon #satogou #<- because I couldn't hold back from pointing out how gay they are lol

[curiousdamage]

For the character asks, I'll go with Annie and Jake - one canon and one oc, lol.

Jake:

Sexuality Headcanon: Heterosexual

Gender Headcanon: Cishet.

A ship I have with said character: Annie. But for Jake in canon, I wish they had paired him with the teacher in One Lullaby, not forever, but for that episode. I do wish they had given him a good love interest in the show that wasn't as forced as his eventual love interest was.

A BROTP I have with said character: Hank obviously.

A NOTP I have with said character: Both Teresa and Dorothy. I like the idea for both of them, but the writing for them was horrible. With Dorothy, it seemed like they were both just doing it to spite Loren and it went on too long. 

For Teresa, it was just like ‘it’s the last season. Better shove this in somewhere.’

They could have done the story arc with Teresa so much better if they had just developed it a little more. 

A random headcanon: I have two. 

One: He had a soft spot for Loren because Loren treated him more like a son than his real father ever had. 

Two: He’s never spent the night with any of the women at the saloon because he doesn’t want to take advantage of their desperation. Having grown up on the streets, he knows how that desperation feels. However, he doesn’t object to Hank employing them because they are going to do it regardless and at least working for Hank offers them some protection and safety that they wouldn’t have on their own. He also tries to talk Hank into letting Myra out of her contract when she wants to marry Horace. 

General Opinion over said character: I think he had a lot of potential for character arc and growth if the show hadn’t been written in a way that made it so that Dr. Mike and her family could only be the only right or progressive characters. I’ve talked about this before, but there are lots of scenes where he acted in ways that showed he was changing his bigoted ideas only to have the writers reverse that in the next episode so that there was someone for Dr. Mike to argue with, like calling for Dr. Mike to treat Cloud Dancing to keep the soldiers from being able to imprison him in another territory when he would have been more than capable to treat him on his own.

Annie:

Sexuality Headcanon: Heterosexual

Gender Headcanon: Cishet.

A ship I have with said character: Jake, but also, under different circumstances, she and Roger could have been a good match for each other. 

A BROTP I have with said character: Abigail before her death, and Clarice to a lesser degree, also before the death, but I hope she’ll take over Olive’s place as the friend willing to call Dr. Mike out on occasion. 

A NOTP I have with said character: Slight spoilers, but Martin and even though I said above that she and Roger could be good for each other, I’m going to put Roger on this list because they just aren’t right. 

A random headcanon: Annie had internalized so many of Maude’s comments about her looks and relationship prospects, that had she not met Jake in the way she did, a way that forced her to have a real, meaningful interaction with him, she would have never had a relationship with him or anyone else. She subconsciously protected herself from being hurt by projecting an air of disinterest and detachment that few could get past. 

General Opinion over said character: I created her, so I like her a lot. LOL. So I’ll just talk some more about her. She’s smart, loving, and kind, but also can be cold and distant. I would say more, but it might be spoilers.  

Thanks for the asks!

#fanfic #oc bingo #thanks for the ask! #thanks for the ask!! #dr quinn medicine woman #annie bray slicker #jake slicker #themaradwrites

[burnin0akleaves]

This was supposed to be a sexuality headcanons post but it somehow turned into a Will/Alyss/Horace/Cassandra exploration.

A fair warning to everyone; this post is messy, all over the place, not easy to read and my favourite child now. It is mostly me projecting, but I did put a lot of thought into each part so that all of them have different points of view while still talking about the same relationship. Some of the things in one character's part might not make sense if you don't read the points of view of the others involved and the whole thing generally gets better the more you read.

Also, be warned that I'm not trying to represent anything in a universal way here. Again, most of these are personal to me and based on my own experiences of being queer. That being said, enjoy I guess.

Will: Bi

Ever since he was a child, there were two things Will just knew to be true. He would be a knight, and he loved Alyss. He had used the word "love" at first without even truly grasping the meaning of it, but he had known he was right.

Will couldn't remember his first steps or the first time he climbed a tree, practically the same thing for him, but he remembered playing in the mud with Alyss. Her hair was long and covered in mud just like her skin, but she was nowhere near as dirty as Will was. He was the one wildly splashing at the puddle after all, and Alyss was watching him curiously. Somehow that's the earliest memory he can remember. Will isn't sure whether it's the sight of Alyss covered in mud, so unlike her calm and regal attitude now; or the way she looks at him like he is doing the most impressive thing in the world, but he knows that playing in the mud isn't anything memorable. So it must be the way Alyss looks at him that's so ingrained in his mind.

Will first hears the word love not too long after that very memory, and even as a toddler he knows that it must describe him and Alyss. No one else comes to his mind at the time. The word never loses it's association with her as he grows up, and he holds onto it like an anchor. He loves Alyss, and he will be a knight.

When he thinks about it many years later, Will realizes that his attraction to boys had always been there, he just hadn't found the right words to describe it at the time. Or well, he had, it was just that he didn't grasp how much love he was capable of having. He loved Alyss, so it couldn't have been attraction when he watched the other boys wrestle in the yard. It must have been that he wanted to be like them, not with them. So when he starts noticing how strong Horace's body is developing to be and how handsome his face looks now; Will doesn't make any attempt to get closer to him, he tries to be more like him instead. When Horace pushes him around and calls him names, Will just pushes harder and spends his time trying to think of better insults. He spends a lot of his time thinking about Horace those days, with an intense feeling he can't name.

Then, there is Evanlyn. There is a certain connection he feels the first time their eyes meet, a feeling he has never experienced before. She is feisty, demanding and stubborn. Even after everything he has gone through, including befriending Horace, the idea of getting closer with the girl should by all means be intimidating for him. But it's not. Will is drawn to Evanlyn like a moth to a flame. They have the same spirit in them.

That must be why after knowing her only for a few months, the two forge a bond wordlessly. Will sacrifices everything to protect Evanlyn, so Evanlyn does everything she can to care for him in return. Their eyes meet constantly, feeling the need to be aware of where the other is at all times. Will had realized how similiar they were before, but now he knew that no one else could ever understand them like they understood each other. When he looks back at this time in the future Will can't recall a lot, maybe he isn't even trying to, but one thing he remembers clearly is the warmth Evanlyn made him feel. And how it was the heartbreak that he felt after rejecting her that first started making him question what the word love meant.

It's eventually Alyss who helps him figure it out, years later. She tells him to sit down and starts asking questions, slowly leading Will somewhere she had obviously figured out long ago. At the end, Will understands that he had been right about loving Alyss all along. But he also loves Horace. And he loves Evanlyn. What he feels for them is love too. Not only that, Alyss is completely supportive with him exploring these sides of him with her.

Alyss and Will's relationship strengthens more than ever. Having the words to describe his feelings takes a huge weight off Will's shoulders, and it helps him understand himself better in a lot of other ways too. It seems to be the same for Alyss, and Will isn't suprised when she comes up with the idea of trying something new in their relationship. Both of them know they have the capacity to be attracted to more than one person at the same time, so the two begin to occasionally involve other people in their bed. It takes a lot of trust and discussion of boundaries to make sure its safe and fun for everyone, but they make it work. As the years pass the two have less time and energy so this arrangement stops, but they always look back on these years of their relationship fondly. The only people they have romantic interest in other than each other though are Cassandra and Horace.

After Alyss's death the relationship between Will, Cassandra and Horace take a huge blow. Will is extremely distant for a while which the other two are completely understanding about; they loved Alyss too and they grieved as well, but Will's relationship with her had always been different. Not in a bad way, or a way that made the love between Will and themselves any "less", but different all the same. Eventually through him mentoring Maddie the three of them start getting to see each other more frequently again, and while Will is still distant in some ways he knows that he is still loved. And that he can still love.

Alyss: Bi (also not mentioned here but trans Alyss headcanons are great)

Alyss has always had a crush on Will as well, but she realizes her attraction to women pretty quickly once she starts working with Pauline and is encouraged to explore her self-identity more. The department is full of beautiful girls, and Alyss notices pretty quickly that her feelings for said girls don't fit into how others describe friendships. Pauline is a big support to her during this time and helps Alyss find the correct words to describe herself.

Alyss does the same thing for Will years later. The two have a long talk where Will starts out nervous but Alyss guides him through his feelings masterfully. Once her boyfriend realizes that love and attraction are way broader than he thought and gets to think about his feelings for a while, the couple begin thinking about involving other people. They make sure to lay boundaries down each time so that no one ends up leaving hurt and everything goes smootly for a while. But the two get more and more responsibilities at their respective jobs everyday and the arrangement becomes too much. Both of them look at that brief time in their lives fondly though, and the experiences they've gained help them later on.

At Nihon-Ja, Alyss is nowhere near as composed. While not having much trouble with figuring out her sexuality and learning to communicate with Will about other potential partners before, Alyss has a LOT of trouble when it comes to her feelings towards a certain princess.

Alyss doesn't want to like Cassandra. She doesn't want the relationship between her and the future queen to be anything less than professional, at least that's what she keeps telling herself. But beneath that is an old, childish jealousy that had been formed at an age where Alyss hadn't had enough time to understand herself yet.

She had always been a jealous person, a flaw that she had been aware of for a long time. A part of her she had spent so long understanding and working on before she could feel secure enough in herself to talk about other potential partners with Will. A part of her she thought she had gotten over.

But Alyss' perception of Cassandra had formed before any of her efforts, and had remained forgotten for a long time. Alyss was expecting a snobby, arrogant brat who thought she could get anything she wanted. And that's why it's suprising that when Alyss finds a strong, talented woman who deserves her position as crown princess more than anyone, Alyss' feelings don't disappear at all. If anything, they intensify.

For the second time in her life, Alyss doesn't know how to describe her emotions. She had only felt this strongly towards one person in her life, but she doesn't even think of comparing the two. Cassandra is a flame Alyss can't take her eyes off. She needs to hate Cassandra, that's the only thing that would make sense. Cassandra is a flame Alyss can't take her eyes off and she is afraid of getting burnt.

So she convinces herself that it must be jealousy, even if she knows it isn't true deep down. The last time she could identify her feeling towards Cassandra were when she was a child and it was jealousy then. Alyss would rather stick to that than to accept she doesn't know what they are now.

She tries to find every little fault in Cassandra and to do that, she watches her from afar for hours. Cassandra is so emotional, her cheeks flush in a dumb way everytime she gets angry or flustered. Cassandra is so loud, Alyss can hear her voice from the other end of Wolfwill. Cassandra is so short, Alyss could carry her around easily. Cassandra is so terrible at fighting; the thrill Alyss feels when the two duel with wooden swords is definitely because of the adrenaline, not the way Cassandra's body moves in front of her. Cassandra is trying to seduce Will; her heart must be beating as fast as Alyss' when she sees the two of them, their flames merging into one wildfire in Alyss' eyes.

Alyss knows that she isn't making any sense when the two finally argue, Cassandra managing to slip under her skin like poison and bringing out the worst side of Alyss; the uncomposed, unladylike, jealous Alyss that can't even make reasonable arguments. But how can she be expected to think clearly when Cassandra looks so beautiful right in front of her, wrapped in towels and flushed from the hot bath. Alyss almost kisses her once their voices quiet down, wanting to use her mouth for something if it won't be for talking. But it isn't until they return and Will and Horace tell the girls they want to talk about something that she gets to. Turns out all of them had reached the same page, just at different speeds. Alyss, for once in her life, had been especially slow.

Horace: DemiBi

Horace's relationship with love was complicated. As a child, he would go to bed listening to stories about knights in shining armours saving princesses from dragons. That part made sense of course, Horace could imagine himself in the place of the knight perfectly. But then, the knight would kiss the princess each time, and they would get married. Now, Horace didn't understand that part. How could he fall in love with someone as easily as that? Was he expected to marry a princess in the future too?

Eventually, Horace realizes that he isn't marrying princesses anytime soon, which is relieving. But he feels a similiar pressure in his chest each time boys in the ward gather around to talk about their crushes. When it's time for him to speak, Horace never has anything to tell them. But he isn't willing to go down so easily and if he can't become a hero by kissing a princess, he'll become one by slaying a dragon.

And luckily for Horace, he has found his already. A small dragon, one that can't breathe fire but makes up for it with the flames in his eyes and the sharpness of his tounge. Will.

Of course, fairytales aren't real and Horace never slays a dragon. Will and Horace become friends so easily that he finds himself confused as to why they used to fight in the first place. The two understand each other perfectly, and being around the smaller boy feels like second nature. Maybe Horace would never want to kiss a princess, and he'd never get to slay a dragon; but being around Will feels just as worthwhile.

Just when he thinks he has it all figured out, in the span of only a few years Horace's life quickly turns into a mess again. On one hand there is Cassandra, the princess Horace very much does want to kiss now. He thinks about the burning bridge, the winter in Skandia, his knighting as the Oakleaf Knight and his daily life in Araluen. He isn't sure exactly when his feelings changed towards her. Horace knows that he didn't feel the need to kiss her when they first met, and that he values his friendship with Cassandra above anything else, but he certainly does now. What's even more confusing is that the man quickly realizes his feelings towards Will are just as strong as his feelings for Cassandra.

It's a few letters from Will, and later on Alyss, that finally clear things up for him. Will mentions a talk he had with her, explaining many terms Horace had never heard before. Will sounds the happiest he has been in a long time, and Horace finds his joy mirrored in himself. He holds those letters tightly each day they arrive and cries teardrops on the paper from how relieved he is.

The letters are safely tucked away in a chest in the room Cassandra and Horace share. He stops looking at them for many years, not feeling the need to when Cassandra is always next to him and new letters from Will and Alyss arrive frequently even if they aren't around. The next time Horace takes them out, his hands are shaking. He reads the eloquent handwriting of Alyss, and sheds tears on them for a different reason.

Cassandra: Bi

Ironically out of all of them Cassandra; the one that had been destined to have the most amount of expectations placed on her, was the one who had rejected what love was supposed to be according to others first.

Rebelling was second-nature to Cassandra now. She would rebel against the food that was on the table, the lessons she would have to take, the dresses she would have to wear, the hair length everyone wanted her to have... what had started out as the natural result of a spoiled child that had everything she could want had slowly turned into said child's way of taking control of her life back.

She had already rejected the idea of what a woman in her position was supposed to be according to society as a teenager, so it hadn't been confusing to her at all when she realized she didn't dislike the idea of having a girlfriend. The wonderful way she felt about handsome boys and pretty girls couldn't have possibly been wrong, so it must have been the idea of only being allowed to have a husband that was.

Will gives everything to protect her, every part of his body and eventually his very mind. This is a level of heroism, of selfless sacrifice that Cassandra could have never thought of. Of course she isn't suprised when she catches feelings, it's only natural. Will is smart, funny, handsome, admirable... he had taken the role of her guardian on his own and she had done the same for him the second she could. They both have a fire in their hearts that matches in intensity and outshines everything around them. Cassandra tries to make him hers, and she knows Will has feelings for her too. But he refuses.

Cassandra doesn't get why for a long time, experiencing the first crush and heartbreak of her life one after another. But years later she looks back at this time and appreciates Will's decision. Neither of them were ready yet; Will unable to realize he is allowed to love more than one person and Cassandra not emotionally mature enough to see a relationship right after everything they survived is not healthy. She needed someone else to teach her how to tame her fire first.

Horace is everything that is expected of her to have. Tall, strong, handsome... a knight. The side of her that was used to rebelling blindlessly would never look at his direction, but that side had been frozen in Skandia. So, Cassandra lets Horace in, and she falls for him. It's less intense than Will, quieter and less wild. It's not a love tale written in storm, snow and war. It's between stone walls and fancy parties. Horace is her safe haven tucked into one corner of Castle Araluen, her break from the chaos who embraces her with strong arms and a calming smile. It's no wonder that when Horace is lost across the sea, Cassandra doesn't think twice before going to find him and bring him back.

Alyss is everything out of her reach. She is the opposite of Cassandra, a gorgeous wave that lifts her off her feet and washes her away from the shore. She realizes how similiar her and Will are once again, because she has been completely captivated by her.

She confides in him immediately and learns a lot about their relationship. None of the concepts suprise her, they are all results she reached herself, but it does feel nice to have a word for them. Suddenly she finds herself loving Horace, Will and Alyss at the same time, and it's an amazing feeling.

The problem is even if Alyss drags her in like a wave, she also throws her right back to the shore like one. Every time Cassandra makes an effort to get closer to the other girl, she pushes her away. Cassandra catches Alyss staring at her with a deep gaze multiple times, a gaze that has what she's looking for in it, but then she looks away as if nothing happened. But Cassandra is stubborn, and even if she can't have Alyss she is determined to at least understand why. She does get Alyss at the end. She only wishes she could have Alyss for longer.

Horace can only help her so much while he is also grieving, and Will hasn't looked at them since. But Cassandra doesn't blame him, she actually understands Will very well. It's just like before, they both have a fire in them. And right now Will is burning wildly, destroying everything in his path because if he stops now he will go out entirely. So Cassandra understands. She lets him distance himself, but she won't let him burn himself out.

Years later they all lay in the same bed. Horace and Cassandra are tangled up in each other, Will is sleeping on his side right next to them. His hand is holding Cassandra's and his head is resting on Horace's arm. He sighs in his sleep and turns over, throwing his arm over the other two and them responding by holding him tighter in return.

There is room for one more on the bed, but the empty space is not as daunting as it used to be.

#rangers apprentice #will treaty #alyss mainwaring #horace altman #princess cassandra #willyss #hill #I dont know the full ship name fuck #🍂 textpost #the royal ranger

[bored-platypus]

Where There's A Will...

Part 1 here!

Here's part 2 of my time-traveling Will AU. It's also posted on my Ao3!

Will breathes shallowly, hand clenched around his recurve bow. The halls are practically empty, eerily silent. His footsteps don't echo, but Horace's definitely does, and Will grimaces, picking him up. Horace protests for a few seconds, only pausing when he sees Will's face. He internally cringes, running what he hopes is a comforting hand over his younger friend's back.

"I'm not angry," he reassures, and Horace rolls his eyes, staring at him unimpressed. There should be servants running around, diplomats murmuring in halls, scribes with their nose buried in books. Or at least, that was how it was in Araluen back at home. Here, in Clonmel, the palace is quiet and haunting. Will has never reveled in silence- it was always his wardmates running amok and talking, then Halt and his comforting, albeit at the time imposing presence, and then cold and well. He hadn't enjoyed it.

"You always do this weird thing where you freeze up when you hear Clonmel or something. And you accepted their offer to meet, even though you always turn down everybody's requests, even King Morgarath's."

Will internally cringes once again. Ah yes, that is because I suspect he knows you killed him in one-on-one combat at the mere age of fifteen and that man was the main reason I was sold into slavery. Telling Horace that would go over wonderfully.

At the very least, he was meeting Halt. Who he really didn't want to see, because it wouldn't be his mentor, his father. It would be yet another unattached, blank face and Will doesn't know if his heart can take anymore, especially after Gilan—

Nope. Bad thoughts. He makes a turn and meets two guards, standing vigil at ornate doors. Will squeezes Horace in an admittedly self-soothing gesture, heart pounding at the prospect of seeing Halt. The guards scan him, and he makes an effort to not disappear where he's standing; everything about the open palace and beauty makes him feel oddly vulnerable, especially with the guards checking his weapons.

"Please show proof of your documents."

Will already had them checked at the gates, but he doesn't protest. He hands his weapons over without protest too, although his throwing knife stays carefully hidden on his body. It was unfortunate that he would be without his saxe knife, but it was far too big to hide. Horace squirms next to him, ever the impatient swordsman- while his friend was brilliant at practically any form of combat, Will didn't even know how he would handle all the paperwork that would come with being king.

"The child has to stay behind."

Will pauses. "I can't. He's my charge, and I promised to take care of him."

The guard somehow exudes the air of being unimpressed with him behind the helmet.

"If I can't go in without Horace, I will turn and leave right now. He's but a child, what can he do to the king anyways?"

Right. He and his big mouth. Will resists the urge to facepalm, lest he give the guards even more.

One of the guards sighs, then calls over another.

"Your charge will stand at the edge of the room with another knight to oversee him. He will not move, nor will he interrupt the proceedings."

Will nods, turning to impress the rules to Horace once again. Once he's done, the guards open the door, leading him to the throne room.

He breathes, and holds his head high.

The king of Clonmel stands before him; the prince sprawled across another throne. Will cannot tear his eyes away. Surely, the earth must be shaking, for it cannot be him. The king's eyes reveal his disdain. Ferris expects Will to kneel, and Will thinks of whispers and rumors, of Halt being restrained and without sarcasm or a mottled green-brown cloak.

Will kneels in front of the disgraced prince.

#rangers apprentice #ranger's apprentice #will treaty #horace altman #halt o'carrick #so this is technically only half of my next chapter #but i wanted to get it out on tumblr #i'll post the second chapter on ao3 #once i'm done with the whole thing lmao #my fics #also i'm vaguely aware will prob has a longbow at this point #but shhhh i'm too lazy to change part 1 and nostalgic okay #where there's a will au

[panzershrike-pretz]

Enoch & Horace

Source: x x x | x x x | x x x -> song: The Hearse Song

Don't ever laugh as a hearse goes by For you may be the next to die They wrap you up in bloody sheets To drop you six feet underneath They put you in a pinewood box And cover you up with dirt and rocks It all goes well for about a week And then, your coffin begins to leak

[...]

Your brain turns into maggot pie Your liver starts to liquify And for the living, all is well As you sink further into hell And the flames rise up to drag you down Into the fire, where you will drown Your skin melts off as you descend And Satan tears you limb from limb Your suffering will never end And the worms crawl in, the worms crawl out They'll eat your guts and then shit them out And when your bones begin to rot The worms remain, but you do not So don't ever laugh as a hearse goes by For someday, you'll be the one to die And when Death brings his cold despair Ask yourself, "Will anyone care?"

- About;

- Enoch O'Connor Mahari Raskólnikov - he/him - England

Enoch's name comes from MPHFPC, as does Horace's. Enoch being a biblical name, the father of Mathusaleah. It means dedicated, trained and disciplined, which is very much what Enoch is.

Mahari and Raskólnikov, a japanese and a russian surnames were adopted by him after his parents: Hanabi and Rodion respectively. In-story Enoch chose to accept both his adoptive parents names as a way to honor them and show how graceful he was for the love he was given by them.

- Fighter

His role aboard Blithe is that of a fighter. As the name suggests, he works for defense or aid during raids; he's not all that fond of firearms or even swords - his main way of attack is by using Pax, his Hollow, as a shield or as an attacker. Due to his thick skin, size and being mostly invisible, Pax is extremely useful.

Other than that, Enoch is also responsible for sending the dead to the Other Side - that is, making an oppening so Pennydarren can guide them to their destiny, by cleaning the body and soul of those who die.

- Mordeshor (+ Shadow Speaker)

A Mordeshor (a term I got from a book, I believe it's called Winter's Magic) is a person able to see and comunicate with the dead; they stand in a thin veil between life and death - created by the Goddess of Death herself to care for souls and help the Gods. Killing one of them brings infinite doom, as their killer is cursed to die but never be able to move on to the after life.

As you can tell, Enoch's an important guy - most for the disgust of his enemies. Being able to see the dead and make their souls visible for the living, if they so desire, is one of his powers. Other than that he can do some minor necromancy by playing a flute, so dead corpses get up to follow him when he needs to move them.

Finally, he can see Creatures of Shadows, such as Pax, and talk to them by connecting to their minds. It's not something easy, because it drains a lot of energy (especially if there's no bond between the Speaker and the Creature) and, amidst a battle against the beast it's something even worse to try and talk to them.

All of it comes with some side effects; being capable of feeling what a Shadow Creature feels can take a tool on one's body, alongside increased anxiety and difficult to sleep. Spending too long inside a Hollow's brain can make someone go crazy, and it's always a fight having to control your own body and the body of a monster sepparetly at the same time. Besides, Mordeshores ates outcasts - people either fear or find them disgusting, so it's a hard deal living, especially in modern times.

Many Mordeshores consider their own powers a curse and stories say that they were never chosen to help the Goddess of Death - it was instead a blood-curse given to someone who wronged her. Athena never addressed it.

- Personality

He's very bitter, always tired and in a bad mood. Normally, the crew leave him be, doing his thing so they don't have to deal with his sassy remarks and uncalled comments. He spends too much time just cursing and being a pain in the ass.

Even if most of the time Enoch is terrible to be around with, guven his poor social skills and plain rudeness, the crew still holds mixed feelings about his company. He's useful and even if pouting the entire time, he does anything to keep his friends safe - it gets tiring to hear his voice all the time, but it's the price they pay for not shoving him to the sea and leaving him marooned.

Enoch's personality may be weird, and he knows very well that pushing people around him away doesn't make him any good - but still, he fears being abandoned again and somewhat believes that not having strong ties with anyone will be less hurtful when the time comes (even if it never will). His plan of pushing everyone away ended up failing the moment he accepted Rodion as his dad and Olive as his lil' sister (and favorite person ever).

The crew would like for him to believe that he'll not be abandoned - and he knows it, but still thinks they'll run away the first chance they get. No matter how much he says he doesn't care for them, he proves time and time again that he really does. They know that down bellow his stone-cold armor, he's just a scared kid who yearns for the love he never got. Being forever stuck in time is a hard deal for a traumatized guy.

- Funfact: Enoch is the oldest between the peculiars! He was born in 1897 and even if his body and mind are foreve3r stuck at 18, he's actually 127 years old. Pld man-

- Relationship: it's complicated 🤡👍

----------------------------------------------

-> song: I'm Still Here

I am a question to the world Not an answer to be heard Or a moment that's held in your arms And what do you think you'd ever say? I won't listen anyway, you don't know me And I'll never be what you want me to be And what do you think you'd understand? I'm a boy, no, I'm a man You can't take me and throw me away And how can you learn what's never shown? Yeah, you stand here on your own They don't know me 'cause I'm not here And I want a moment to be real Wanna touch things I don't feel Wanna hold on and feel I belong And how can the world want me to change? They're the ones that stay the same They don't know me 'cause I'm not here And you see the things they never see All you wanted I could be Now you know me and I'm not afraid And I wanna tell you who I am Can you help me be a man? They can't break me as long as I know who I am

- About;

- Horace James - he/him - England

As said before, Horace's name comes from MPHFPC. It means timekeeper (or some variation of time, such as season), which seems to go very well with his power.

Enoch calls him by the nickname Horus, the egyptian god of the skies and the living (while Enoch is the keeper of the dead 👀).

And James, his surname, was just an after thought. I had no real reason to choose it, but here it is. It's a biblical name and means "replacer".

- Tailor

Horace LOVES to make and mend clothes! He's an extreme lover of fashion and design - he was the son of a seamstress, after all, and grew up surrounded by her work. She was the one to teach him all he knows about making clothes, knotting, embroidery and sewing.

Horace carried his skills to Blithe; he's the one who makes most of their clothes (and fixes them when needed, ESPECIALLY Enoch's). Not only that, whenever they steal cloths, Enoch makes clothing to be sold wherever they make port, earning a good amount of money.

Never let him near a modern clothing store, though, he will go insane and scream at the "horrible modern clothing! What happened to common sense?? Back in my time people dressed properly! This is disgusting! Where are the dresses? And the suits and ties? People dress like they're in a carnival now!" stuff. He has MANY thoughts on modesrn clothes.

- Prophet

Horace's peculiarity is that of prophecy; he's able to see the future in his dreams - although is involuntary and he's not able to control which aspects he sees.

Even though he and Pangea share this same peculiarity, his future-seeing is more precise and only happens while he sleeps or is very tired, while her's happen in random bursts mostly while she's awake and are mores suceptible to change given probability.

Because of his peculiarity, Horace has a terrible sleep schedule, marked by insomnia. Not all of his dreams are prophecies, and he had to learn how to distinguish between them - a hard thing to do, most of the time.

He despises non-magical people who lie about being able to read the future. It's simple and pure hatred.

- Personality

Horace is a bit of a coward, but not in a bad nature. He's not suited to fight, so whenever a battle turns up, he runs and hides in fear, especially because he doesn't know how to defend himself. He's scared of a lot of things (maybe that's why he stayed alive for so long KAKAKAK).

Horace was an upper class boy when he was a kid and many of his manerisms derive from that time; he was born in the 1920's to a wealthy family and ended up being a very spoiled but polite gentleman due to his family's teachings.

He never felt good about the awakening of his powers or about leaving his family behind as the war drew closer and Miss Seagull took him under her wings. Being the youngest of three brothers, he knew his mom would be devasetaded if he lost all three - so he kept in touch, sending her letters as she grew older and he was forever stuck.

Horace is a caring boy, full of love to give. He's educated and hardly breaks any rules; to him, a strong connection between his new found family is all he needs to live a happy life - he's able to lean on them when needed and even if he's paranoic about being seen as weak and a burden, he tries his best to not let those things get to him.

- Funfact: he's absolutely obssessed with cleaning and has a gigantic phobia of germs. He and Enoch argue a lot about En's non-existent hygiene.

- Relationship: oh boy. It's a situation-

THE BOYS.

Enoch is Not Okay and poor Horace just wants to get away from him.

My Taglist: @luckynumber4 @xxluckystrike @whollyjoly @sweetxvanixlla @1waveshortofashipwreck @malarkgirlypop (please please please tell me if u want out!! I don't want to be annoying!)

#pretz oc #🥨🪶

[whosbex]

🌀 Post the fic summary for a fic you haven't written/published yet. It can be hypothetical or something you really plan on releasing...

❄️ Share a snippet from a WIP of your choosing.

🌤️ Share your favorite piece of dialogue from your WIP.

🌧️ Share something angsty from your WIP.

🌈 Share something soft/fluffy from your WIP.

🌩️ Share something funny/cracky from your WIP.

☔Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?

🌪️Sum up a WIP with a few fic tropes/Ao3 tags.

1)so for my new project I just call it my TTS What if series/DK Fam AU. But basically it’s like,what if the DK did get distorted,what if Cass,Varian and Eugene were raised in the DK with their parents,what if Raps wasn’t stolen?

2) from my OG story:

‘ CRASH! Another canon hit the palace. The walls were turning to rubble around them. As bricks fell and the earth shook,the four knights,the prince,and chief ran for the cellar. Chief Millie pulled a torch on the side of a wall and it opened a secret passage, “Go. Quickly all of you!”. ‘

3) my favorite so far form the What if TTS series:

‘ Dude,can you not talk with your mouth full? You know we can’t understand you.”,Adira cut him off. He gave her a side eye,then turned his attention back to his sister as he swallowed his food. “As I was saying,Erin kept on alternating between having really bad cramps and crying herself to sleep because of the pain. In the end neither of us had the best sleep.”  

“Oh,I’m so sorry-ACK!!”,Ella touched the side of her face and wiped the mashed squash that Eugene had thrown. “Really Horace?” ‘

I really like this one😁

4) wrote this last night:

TW: Blood,mention of blood,miscarriage,break down,guilt.

Y’all’s sneak peek for the “What if” series.

5) haven’t written it but the idea will be written. I have this chapter where Hector has to take care of baby Cass so he makes a small pouch in his shirt for her to sit in and calls it his “baby pouch” and holds her like a mommy kangaroo 🥰.

6) I’m thinking about make a scene where Cass uses her history nerd skills for on of the challenges for TCOTC and Andrew just falls in love with her and says “I’ve never been so in love with you.” And Cass replies “We don’t have time for your nerd fetish Bone Head we gotta GO!”

6 I’ve already answered and idk that many tags so idk what to put for 7😓

#tangled the series #tts #tangled #tts fanfic #questions and answers #ask game #forgot to post this I think

[forgedroyalseal]

My Reputation’s Never Been Worse

Chapter 13

(I love this chapter so much and I really hope you do too)

An hour later, Alyss found herself walking down the narrow, shady path towards the lake alone. They had discussed what they should do over breakfast, and it was decided that only one of them should check on Will. They didn’t want him to constantly feel like he was being ganged up on. Cassandra had instantly volunteered, but Horace suggested that Alyss should go. She had seen him the least out of all of them, and Horace thought it would be good for them to talk one on one.

She clutched the mug of still steaming coffee in her hands and turned around the last bend before stepping into the clearing that slopped into the lake. Nyah sat under a tree, light flickering through the leafs, casting shadows on her face. Alyss approached quietly, unsure if her presence would be welcomed or not.

“Join me.” Nyah called to her without turning around. Her words were soft and inviting. Alyss sat besides her, setting the mug down carefully next to her. Will was in the water, steadily swimming back and forth across the lake. He moved as powerfully and as surely as a ship, cutting through the water as if it was what he was born to do. The girls watched him in silence for a while before Alyss broke it.

“I don’t remember him ever really swimming when we were growing up.” Alyss sighed. This was just one more thing that she didn’t know about Will.

“When we met, Will was in constant agony. His hip wound was still pretty new, and it was a complete mess. Every time he had to sit was a struggle, and forget about standing back up. An old sailor that was working on the same ship suggested Will try swimming to build up his strength and to give himself some time off of the injury. It really helped with the pain, but I think it help him mentally even more. The water has a calming effect on his mind, and it give him something physical to focus when he gets overwhelmed.”

“So you two didn’t met an Eisel?”

“No, we knew each other for a couple years before we ended up in Eisel. I was on the ship Will found work on.”

“I didn’t know that women worked on ships. What did you do?”

Nyah closed her eyes from a moment. When she opened them, Alyss such raw pain and regret that she wished she could take the question back.

“Women typically are kept off ships, old superstitions died hard, you know? But on this ship, well, I guess they felt I was worth the risk. My father sold me to captain the year before Will joined the crew.”

“You don’t have to-“ Alyss tried to say but Nyah just continued speaking.

“The captain would offer me as a reward, or as bait. Or he’d just use me himself. Will was the first man who had shown me kindness in years. He never once-“ She shook her head. “Even when offered, Will refused to do what the other men would. Even when it made the other men suspicious, he never touched me. He became my saving grace on that ship. I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for him.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Alyss said, heart tight with sympathy for the woman next to her.

Nyah shrugged, “It was awful. But it could have been worse. There are so many women that it was much worse for. So many women who never found their Will.” Her eyes had remain locked on Will the entire time she had been telling her story and understanding dawned on Alyss.

“You love him, don’t you?”

Blushing, Nyah turned to Alyss. “I think everyone who meets Will falls at least a little bit in love with him. But yeah, I do. He doesn’t feel the same way though, so I’ve learned to be satisfied with just having him as a friend.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that. I mean, you seem to be the only person he let’s himself relax around. The only person he’s himself with.”

“We’ve been bonded by pain and fear. We care deeply for each other, but it’s nothing more. He’s madly in love with someone else. I don’t think he’ll ever be capable of falling for anyone else for as long as he lives.”

And without having to ask, Alyss knows. She sees it in the heavy look Nyah levels her with. It’s the same look that Horace gave her this morning. The same look everyone has given her every time Will was mentioned over the past five years.

It was her. Will loved her, had for a while it would seem. He loved her, and yet he still left. Will loved her, and yet he had barely spoken to her since he had returned. He loved her, and yet he had written to George while he was on the run. He loved her, and yet he never once said a word.

Will loved her.

And yet, that didn’t seem like it would be enough to keep him here.

“You finally figured it out, huh?” Nyah nudged her.

“He never said.”

Before Nyah could reply, Will was walking up to them, water dripping off of him. Drops clung to the ends of his hair, catching the sunlight and causing him to look as though he was crowned with diamonds. In this light, with the blood and grime washed away, he looked nearly ethereal. Alyss’ breath caught in her throat. She had known Will all her life, and sure, as a teenage girl who started feeling things for the first time, she had seen Will as cute. And after everything in Norgate, handsome even. But looking at this older, rough edged version of Will standing in front of her, and knowing his feelings towards her, she felt as though she was seeing him for the first time. Seeing him as a man. Not the teenage boy she knew. It hit her like a tidal wave.

Oh.

It was Will. It had always been Will. Somewhere deep inside her heart, she had always felt it, she just hadn’t known it. She had loved him long before she even knew what love was, or what it could be. The past five years with out him had been agony. She felt as if a part of her had died and rotted inside of her chest. And seeing him again, so different, so hurt, she was torn between being grateful for his return and terrified of what it meant for their future. Because she couldn’t lose him again, she couldn’t watch him leave. Not now that she could name the feelings that tied them together.

“Alyss?” His voice broke through her internal crisis. She fought down a blush when she realized she had just been silently staring up at him.

“This is for you.” The words rush out as she pushes the mug of coffee towards him. “It’s probably cooled down a bit, but that’s never stopped you before.”

“Oh, um, thank you. But I don’t drink coffee anymore.” Will shot Nyah a look that she obviously ignored.

“You’re joking right? You lived off of this stuff.”

“Yeah I just… Lost my taste for it I guess.”

Nyah rolled her eyes. “Will, you’ve known Alyss all your life, can you please just be honest with her. Can you be vulnerable with her for two seconds?” She stood and shoved Will down by his shoulders so he was sitting besides Alyss. “Tell her the deal with coffee at least. I’m going to see where Miles has wondered off to. We’ll meet you two back at the Castle.” She picked the mug out of Alyss’ hands and left them before Will could argue.

“You don’t have to tell me anything you aren’t comfortable with.” Alyss says gently.

Will sighed, “No, Nyah’s right. I should tell you. I mean, it’s you. If there’s one person I should be able to be honest with it’s you.” He glanced down at himself. “I didn’t expect to have this conversation half naked and soaking wet, but…” They both laugh and Alyss leans behind him to grab his discarded shirt then tosses it at his face.

“I think I’ve seen enough of your body today.” She says the words before she can stop them and feels her face burn right red the moment they come out. Will just grins and tugs the shirt on. It gets stuck over his head for a minute and when he finally wrestles it on, his wet hair is wild and starting to curl at the ends. She looks at him and the start to laugh all over again, falling into each others sides.

“So, coffee?” Alyss asks once they compose themselves. She watches Will’s face fall and half regrets bring it up, but the other half is desperate for insight into the past five years.

“Right.” Will looked up the the branches overhead as if trying to find the words spelled out among the leafs. “I was heading to the coast when Ranger Conway caught me in Greenfield. He put an arrow through my hip.” Will gestured the where the knot of scar tissue sat underneath his damp trousers. “He bound me and dragged me back to his cabin. I’m honestly not sure what his plan was, if he was even planning on bringing me to Castle Araluen or if he was just going to kill me himself. Either way, he wanted to have his fun with me first. He wanted to watch me suffer.”

“He kept me tied up for three days. I’m still not sure how I didn’t bleed out on the floor of the cabin, or how my wound didn’t become infected past the point of no return. For the most part, he left me alone during the day. But at night,” Will forced back a shutter, “Conway was a drunk, and a cruel one at that. One night, he was making coffee. I made a stupid comment, I don’t even remember what it was anymore, and it pissed him off. He took the kettle of coffee off the fire and doused me in it.” Will pulled the collar of his shirt down and pointed at the discolored scaring on his chest. “I’ll never be able to forget the smell, it’s seared into my brain. Coffee mixed with burning flesh. I can’t even get a whiff of coffee anymore without getting nauseous. Later that night after he had passed out, I dislocated my thumbs to slip out of the rope binds and ran like hell until I reach the sea.”

Alyss stared at him with wide, watery eyes. “I-I don’t- Will.” So much emotion spilled into his name that it came out as a sob. Will turned her into him so that she was half in his lap and wrapped his arms tightly around her.

“I’m ok Alyss. It was years ago. I’m ok.” He whispered.

“No, it’s not ok! Nothing about this is ok! You never should have gone through that, any of it.”

“But I did, and I came out on the other side.”

Alyss pulled back from him just enough to look him in the eye. “Did you? Because sometimes I look at you, and feel as though I’m looking at a stranger. But then other times, I still see the boy I knew. It’s as though you’ve been split in two Will, and I’m never sure who I’m seeing.“

Will sighed deeply, clearly trying to control his emotions before responding. Alyss knew that she was pushing more than she should. Knew that it wasn’t fair to have this conversation now, after he had finally opened up to her about what he had had gone through. But after learning about his feelings from Nyah, and the sudden realization of her own, she needed to get through to him, needed him to understand how worried she was.

“I am trying Alyss. I don’t know how to do this anymore. How to be who you all want me to be. I can’t just go back to the boy you all remember.”

“You don’t need to Will. None of us are expecting you to be unchanged by the last five years. But there are times where I see glimmers of yourself that you force down. That you cover over with anger and resentment. You don’t need to be all or nothing Will. You can just be you. All any of us want, is you.” She placed her hand on his cheek, thumb gliding over a scar by the corner of his mouth. “All I want, is you.”

His own hand slides over hers and he presses a kiss into her palm. “I’ll keep trying. I promise.”

“That’s all I ask.” Her voice was a whisper, not daring to speak any louder in fear that it would break whatever fragile connection that held them together in this moment of vulnerability.

“There is so much I should tell you.” His words were heavy with guilt and fear.

“And you will, when you’re ready.”

She felt him lean forward. Watched his eyes flicker down to her mouth. Felt him take a deep breath.

“Will! There you are, Crowley- Oh. Oh!” Gilan’s voice shattered the intimate moment like a rock going through glass.

Will pulled back from her and Alyss felt a surge of murderous rage towards Gilan.

“Hope I’m not interrupting. I can come back.” He says grinning as he sits down next to them, clearly have zero intentions of leaving them alone.

“What do you want Gil?” Will asked exasperatedly. Alyss slid off of Will’s lap as casually as she could, but felt Gilan’s shining eyes watching her with amusement.

“Crowley was looking for you. But I am more than happy to cover for you if you need to uh, finish whatever’s going on here.”

Will shot him a hard look, which if directed at anyone else would have made them back off immediately. But it was Gilan, who ignored Will’s gaze and continued smiling wolfishly at the pair.

“We were just talking.”

“Oh, is that what the kids are calling it these days?” Gilan teased.

“What does Crowley want?” Will asked, trying to move along.

“I don’t know.” Gilan shrugged. “He’s in his office waiting for you.”

“I should go. It might be about Eisel.” Will stood and stretched. He reached down and offered his hand to Alyss, who took it and pulled herself up. “Do you mind letting Miles and Nyah know where I am?” He asked her.

“Of course.”

Will smiled then turned to Gilan, “And not another word out of you.” Gilan put his hands up in surrender, grin still plastered on his face.

The three of them walked back to the Castle together and once Will broke off towards Crowley’s office, Gilan pulled Alyss aside to an empty sitting room.

“I don’t what you said, or did, but whatever it was, he seems different. Lighter.”

“I just- listened. Told him we didn’t need him to be anyone but himself. I’m not sure how much it will effect him, but I’m not giving up on him.”

“None of us are.” Gilan’s eyes gleamed and the sincerity of the moment evaporated. “Now, care to share what exactly I interrupted?”

“Nope, you’ll just have to use your imagination.” She pushed past him and he called out after her.

“Oh, believe me, I will!”

#rangers apprentice #ranger's apprentice #ranger’s apprentice fanfiction #rangers apprentice fanfiction #guilty until proven innocent #my reputations never been worse #reputation series #reputation

[millard-nullings-shoulders]

I had a sensory overload today and cried on my boyfriend chest, so you're all getting headcanons so I can make myself feel better! Don't pay any attention as to how late it is!

Jacob:

-He has so little confidence in himself that it's actually sad

-Cannot be stopped from making self depreciating jokes, no matter how many times people tell him it's not good

-If this boy had a tiktok it would be blank. Maybe a cartoon pfp, but not a single video (Same bruh same)

Emma

-Out of everyone in the loop, she's the best at makeup. Doesn't mean she wears it all the time, but when she does good shit

-If she's in a bad mood, she can destroy you with words if she wants to. Luckily, this doesn't happen often, especially not to her friends. Random men that don't leave her alone on the other hand...

-For a while she had a "I'm not like other girls" thing going on, especially whenever Noor first came around. Not really there anymore though

Millard

-Do you ever get sensory overloads and cry? Then boy, do I have the cure for you! Cry while he hugs you. Automatic cure, I can confirm this right now from personal experience

-Sometimes he gets a little too focused on something and won't realize just how late he's said up until someone has to actually drag him to bed

-Gives the best and most thoughtful gifts. Oh? You collect pinned bugs? He's finding out where to get a rare pinned bug and giving you that on Valentine's day! Yes, that's what he did for me, I love him so much #justfictivethings lol

Hugh

-Out of everyone in the loop, he has the most...complex feelings about his gender. Being so tied to bees, he's beegender, but with that comes some strange feelings. Most bees are female, so he does feel a strong connection to femininity. But at the same time, he still feels tied to drones/male bees.

-He tries not to think too much about it, and maybe keeps it bottled up a bit too much. Maybe it's because it stresses him out to ponder too much. Maybe he's embarrassed to talk about it. No matter what though, he does feel a lot of gender euphoria wearing skirts and confusing people about what gender he is.

-His sexuality is probably just as confusing to find an exact label, but it's not something he worries about. He just ends up using the term queer and calls it a day

Fiona

-Fiona being plantgender surprises no one, and it never will. Same with her being bi. She just...you can just look at her and tell

-She's probably the least happy in a modern setting. Everything is just...too much for her. She likes the whole cottagecore thing, but she'd much rather keep to her usual ways. So still stuck in the late 1800's

-She has a way to talk to Hugh with just...looks. Slight facial expressions, body language, they just know each other that well. More often than not, they're flirting with each other like this out in the open

Enoch

-Was put on kitchen duty once....Once. The peculiars don't talk about this often

-You can't pay him to play sports with the other boys. He'd sooner pull teeth

-I am voting him as most likely to have filled his homework with doodles

Horace

-He's not a fan of many things in the modern day, but he does appreciate a few things. Easier tools for cooking, Google, and easy access to fabric to name a few things

-What he isn't a fan of though? Fashion (obviously), dance trends, and the modern humor

-His scream could break glass

Bronwyn

-HATES it when people call her a man for whatever reason. On bad days, it makes her cry

-She has a bit of hyper empathy with animals, especially baby ones

-A boy hit on her ONCE and she felt physically nauseous about it for a whole WEEK

Claire

-Says her favorite Disney princess is Aurora because her dress is pink, it's actually Cinderella because of the song "so this is love"

-She sees everyone in the loop as her siblings, but especially Enoch

-In a modern setting, she is addicted to those dress up flash games, bonus points if they're princess themed

Olive

-Sometimes she rolls her ankle in those big shoes, there are a lot of tears from that

-Has stepped on toes before! Bones were indeed broken!

-Master at finding lost items. No idea why

Bonus Victor!

-Horrible about confessing his feelings

-Makes horrible decisions when he gets nervous. It's like all critical thinking goes out the window

-Seems like the type with pencil graphite stuck in his hand permanently somewhere

#miss peregrines home for peculiar children #ransom riggs #jacob portman #emma bloom #millard nullings #hugh apiston #fiona frauenfeld #enoch o'connor #horace somnusson #bronwyn bruntley #olive elephanta #claire densmore #victor bruntley

[misscrazyfangirl321]

neal & henry: 17

"Watch your step!" Someone calls out, and instinctively, Neal freezes. Then he looks down, only to find a-well, a man, apparently, though he's only about six inches tall. The way he scowls up at Neal would be more fitting on a man thirteen times his height, but the wings do make him a little more intimidating.

"Sorry," Neal says, and the man rolls his eyes before walking away, wings dragging on the ground behind him.

Neal turns to the person who warned him, only to find the tech man. Horace? No, Henry. Henry, who's apparently grown up at the Sanctuary. Henry, who's known Ashley his whole life, who nearly collapsed when he saw her and clung to her like he'd break if he let go. Henry, who'd looked gutted when she'd pushed him away, not a hint of recognition in her eyes.

Swallowing, Neal finds his voice. "Thanks."

"No problem." Henry's grin seems sincere enough. Neal isn't quite sure what to make of him. "And don't mind Bobby. He just hasn't had his morning coffee yet, you know? Trust me, it'll perk him right up."

His words are light, though Neal weighs each one carefully. Maybe Neal's wrong; maybe there's never been anything between Ashley and Henry. Or maybe whatever's there is so strong, he's not the least bit concerned about the young and (Neal's never been one for false modesty) handsome man who's shown up by her side.

"You okay?" Henry asks, smile fading, and Neal nods.

"Yeah, I was just... Thinking about Ashley." He tests the waters, and Henry's face twists in pain.

"It's weird. I mean, she's her, but she's... Not, you know? Like something's missing."

"I guess you guys were pretty close, then?"

It's smooth. It's subtle. It's nothing to read too much into, just a casual attempt to gather information (judging by the startled look that Henry gives, followed by an unsettling smirk, it's absolutely none of those things).

"We grew up together. Ash's the closest thing I've got to a little sister."

Sister. Neal's next breath comes a little easier, though he tries to hide it. It's strange; he's not normally the jealous type, but it's hard now. For the past three months, Ashley's world has been mostly limited to El and Peter's apartment, but now... She has a whole life, and just because she doesn't know about it doesn't mean it doesn't affect things. Not anymore. Not now that they're here, and people who know her better than Neal ever has (know her better than even she does at the moment) can tell her all about her life.

"Well, hopefully she'll remember that soon." He tries to keep his voice light.

Henry's smile is a bit too knowing, but he only nods. "Yeah. And, uh, thanks. For taking care of her. And if you hurt her-"

"You'll kill me?" It's not the first time he's gotten a threat like that.

Laughing, Henry shakes his head. "Trust me, Ash can take care of that herself."

It's hard to picture Ashley-sweet, kind, thoughtful Ashley-hurting anyone, but he can still remember the fight. The moment he'd thought they were going to die and she'd started moving, moving like he'd never seen. Fighting with deadly precision, holding nothing back. There's something dangerous inside her, Neal knows.

He only hopes he gets to stay long enough to meet the real her.

#neal caffrey #henry foss #white collar #sanctuary #the megaverse #answered #thanks for the ask! #lattes of love #my fics #my writing #mine

[sydorax-squid]

A Martian Porter’s Problem Ch 1

  Tomkin awoke with the sun. He blinked his red-orange eyes and looked immediately to his left. Horace-12 was there, sitting up, staring at their surroundings. It was as if he had never seen such wonders before. Of course, Tomkin thought. Horace-12 was a probeta-born; an Earthling Test Tube Baby. A Laborer designed by the lazy to do the hard work for them. It was likely Horace hadn’t ever seen Mars in all it’s glory. Probably dropped off the rocket in full stasis for easy transport. Probably didn’t want any Martians to notice that Earthlings had taken to peddling genetically engineered flesh. 

  “Horace,” Tomkin mumbled sleepily, snapping the pale-skinned boy out of his trance. Big blue eyes turned to gaze at the dark, vaguely purple-skinned Martian. Horace hadn’t realized how much humans had mutated after centuries on Mars; how much everything had changed on Mars. He knew that the plants and animals came from Earth originally, with some minor genetic editing to help keep them alive on the foreign planet. But he didn’t recognize anything. Not one plant, not one creature, even the air felt completely different. 

  “Yes, sir?” Horace-12 asked softly, almost embarrassed at his own curiosity. 

  “You eat yet?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Alright. Uh, I think I have all the ration packs in my bag.” Tomkin forced himself upright, groaning at the stiffness in his joints. The ground there outside the Little Blue Mountains was damn uncomfortable. It was a shame they couldn’t find a porter-shack. Which was strange, Tomkin thought. There should have been one around here, it was an ideal spot for it. Maybe he was just a little short, maybe it’s just over that hill and he had gotten the location wrong. Wouldn’t surprise him too much; Tomkin wasn’t a young man anymore, things were getting harder to remember. 

  “Okay, here. Have a protein square. It’s, uh, strawberry flavored.” Tomkin handed Horace-12 a silver packet containing a compact foodstuff. Horace took it graciously, thanking his Master, though he had learned not to call Tomkin that out loud. For whatever reason, this Martian hated that title. Actually, come to think of it, all the Martians Horace had met didn’t like that particular honorific. Perhaps it was a cultural thing? Perhaps the word meant something else in the Martian language, though he had yet to hear such a tongue. 

  Tomkin shoved an entire protein square into his mouth, astonishing the young probeta-born. He chomped loudly, rubbing a hand over his copper-colored hair in a repetitive motion. Little streaks of white could be seen collecting at his temples and just behind his ears. Horace mimicked the motion, ruffling his own raven-black hair. This action didn’t escape Tom’s notice, though he found no fault with it. He yawned, retrieving a large water canteen that came with a built in water purifier. Very handy. He took a chug first before handing it to Horace. 

  Horace-12 followed Tomkin around as he went about his brief morning routine. It wasn’t so much the fear of being alone that drove his behavior, but more the uncertainty of how to live without constant direction from a taskmaster. Tom was exceedingly patient with the inexperienced, almost child-minded adult; teaching by example and instructing only when necessary. 

  The pair collected their few things and shouldered their heavy, cargo-laden packs, setting off down the thin trail, surrounded on all sides by vibrant, colorful flora and hidden fauna. The environment was predominantly purple and yellow, though all manner of unnamable and innumerable colors could be seen. It was hard for Horace to stay focused with all the ways his senses were being assaulted. 

  Tomkin guided Horace along, warning him about the more dangerous plants and occasionally pointing out things that were edible. Other than that, Tom didn’t talk much. He just wasn’t a very chatty fellow. 

  They walked along the little trail carved out by prior porters, stepping carefully to avoid the sharp-toothed fire-blooms that grew plentifully this time of year. They walked and walked and walked and walked, wiling away the hours of the day in this manner. Eventually the sun began to set and Tomkin checked his connection with the Marswire, looking for any nearby shelters in which they could spend the night. 

  “There’s one,” he informed Horace-12, pointing at the green display. A flat metal rectangle had unfolded along the length of his forearm, seemingly emerging from within the ID bracelet he wore. The metal glowed bright green and displayed a wealth of information on it’s many tiny panels, but Tomkin was only interested in one innocuous dot. He used his knowledge of the area to tell him how far he was, instead of the path-charter function that was installed on the Marswire interface. Technology could be helpful, but too much made a person soft. “It’s only two hills over. If we hurry, we can beat the rain.”

  “Rain?” Horace-12 asked, his eyes flickering up towards the sky. “It’s going to rain?”

  “Yeah. Can’t you smell it?” Tomkin asked rhetorically, assuming the probeta-born had dulled senses. He was correct in this assumption as he watched the boy inhale long and slow, searching for the smell of rain. “C’mon.”

  Horace-12 followed his master over two vibrantly colored hills to the porter-shack, just where his knowledgable teacher told him it would be. And just as Tomkin said, they could have beat the rain. Horace heard it before he smelled it or saw it; the sudden and violent downpour of lilac-scented water from the dense blue-gray sky. He marveled for a moment as this was a new sensation, wholly different from the artificial showers he had been accustomed to on Earth or in the Martian transportation facilities. It was so loud and it hit him with an almost vengeful force, cascading in angry torrents from above to smother him in freshly trickling streams that wove their way down his face and body, forcing his clothes to cling helplessly to his pale skin as the rain poured ever on. 

  “Horace!” the voice of his master snapped him out of his trance and he hurried to the shack, his sopping boots heavy and his eyes obscured with sheets of overlapping water. He practically fell into the porter-shack, panting hard, his cargo slipping off his shoulders to the floor with a gentle thump. “You okay, kid?” Horace-12 felt a hand on his back. He shivered.

  “It was so… so intense,” he breathed, staring hard at the orange grain of the faux wood floor. “I’ve never been in a rainstorm before.”

  “Yeah, I figured,” Tomkin mumbled. “Better get changed before you get sick. The clothing reprocessed is over there. I’ll take a gander at the pantry.” 

  Horace only nodded. He felt a bit ashamed at his innocence, his naiveté. Was he a burden on Tomkin? He had been assigned to the old man without consultation first, after all. Tomkin wasn’t overly thrilled about the idea of taking on an off-worlder apprentice. Horace pushed the thought from his mind as he went to the corner to undress. He didn’t have any other clothing, none more was provided him at the station. Apparently Tomkin was unaware of this and insisted Horace-12 don a towel while his clothes were reprocessed. 

  “When we get to Laika’s Memory,” Tomkin told him as he prepared an almost-decent meal for them. “I’ll take you shopping, get you some proper porter’s clothes. Good boots, better than those cloth ones you’re wearing now. And cargo pants so you can carry your own canteen. Maybe a waterproof hoodie. Monsoon season is only a few months off…” Tomkin continued to mumble quietly to himself, making a mental shopping list of all the things his apprentice was going to get at Laika’s Memory. Horace sat on the many-times-reupholstered sofa, staring out the old window at the rain, listened to it pound against the sturdy roof. 

  He and Tomkin ate well in that shack. Someone had gone through the trouble of restocking it recently, which was unusual anymore, what with the Ulqeks out raiding and pillaging. This was something that was always on Tomkin’s mind, but a thought he’d never vocalize in front of young Horace.

At the end of the meal, Tom leaned back and prepared himself to teach; Horace always had so many questions. As was customary, Tomkin explained to his apprentice, a porter that takes something from the shack must then leave something at the shack, although repairs count as compensation. 

  “But we don’t have anything to leave, do we?” Horace asked, patting his pockets. Being a probeta-born, he had no personal possessions; everything he had technically belonged to his Master, including his labor and time. 

  “No, we had to travel lighter than normal this trip,” Tomkin said, looking around. He picked up a broom. “But the place could use a bit of a clean.”

  “You want me to do the sweeping?” Horace-12 asked, presuming his master would leave the more physically demanding job to him.

  “Nah, I got it.”

  “Um, then what should I do?”

  “Clean up the trash from dinner,” Tomkin suggested. “You just put the empty cans and wrappers in that bin there, and then put the cutlery and plates in that cabinet for a few minutes.”

  “Is it all automatic?” Horace asked, following Tom’s instructions. Tomkin grunted in affirmation as the young man put the cans and wrappers in a green bin with a triangle on it. He watched as the bin’s glass lid slid closed and the trash was consumed by blue smoke. Horace-12 put the plates, cutlery, and glasses in a black cabinet labeled “Refresh-inator”. He then pressed the buttons that said “COMPLETE MEAL” and “2 PEOPLE”. 

  “Oh, refill the waterskins, too,” Tomkin added, tossing the collected filth out the door and into the rain. He noticed how the sound of rain through the open door drew Horace’s attention. It was strange; he seemed fixated on the perfectly ordinary event, as if he had never been out in a storm. That didn’t make much sense seeing as he was a Farm-Laborer; born and designed to work on farms and plantations to serve humanity. Surely he had been in a thunderstorm before. Tomkin’s curiosity only grew the more he thought about it. 

  As the two bedded down for the night, Tom asked Horace about it lest he be up all night wondering.

  “Ever been in a rainstorm before?”

  “…No, sir.” Horace sounded embarrassed. 

  “Really? I thought you were a farmer before coming here.”

  “Well, not really, no. I was meant to be a farmhand, but I never actually went out on a farm until a few months ago. That’s when I found out me and my kinsmen were defective.”

  “Right, you're allergic to Earth flora.” Tomkin remembered that from the rundown given him by the corporate goons. “Then what the hell were you doing before? How’d they teach you anything without exposing you to plants?”

  “I was programmed,” he replied. “We hatch fully-formed from incubation chambers with all the things we need to know to do our jobs already in our brains.”

  Tomkin paused.

  “So, you never had to learn anything?” he inquired eventually. 

  “Not until I came here, no, sir.”

  Tomkin paused again, thinking. 

  “How you like being a porter?” he asked.

  Horace exhaled slowly.

  “I… I’m not sure. I feel a little misplaced.”

  Tomkin nodded, staring up at the dark ceiling, listening to the rain hit the roof, dribbling off the edges, collecting in pools by the walls and flowing in small, temporary rivers over the ground. 

  “You don’t have to be a porter if you don’t like it, y’know. I can find you another job.”

  “No, I like being out here. It’s… so big.”

  “Yeah, Mars is a big place.”

  Horace didn’t respond. Their conversation ended abruptly, a sad and uncertain energy permeated the air like a bad smell, upsetting the minds of those in it’s wake. 

#short story #alien worlds #Mars #delivery man #road trip #road trip story #coming of age