#labyrinth mini series | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ihavemanyhusbands · 22 days

Text

High Risk

PART ONE: STAR PATIENT

Mini-series masterlist

Also on AO3

Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Nurse!Fem!Reader

WC: 3.5k words

Series Summary: You, a nurse at Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane, are assigned to the newest inmate -- none other than the Chesapeake Ripper, otherwise known as Hannibal Lecter. He is nothing short of charming, but the dangerous mysteries that lurk beneath are equally alluring. So much so that you can barely resist the urge to uncover them all.

Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY, canon typical violence (mentions and some descriptions), slight canon divergence (here frederick is still director of the hospital), corruption, manipulation all around, eventual smut, secret affair(ish?), sort of power imbalance, ongoing murder investigation (the red dragon), cursing, not-so-slow burn, hannibal being hannibal pretty much, aaand that’s all I can think of but lmk if something should be added!

—————

“A woman being never at a loss…. The devil always sticks by them.” — Lord Byron

———-

Much like the Minotaur’s labyrinth, Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane was designed never to let one escape. At least, that’s how you viewed it, even if you were a worker and not a prisoner there.

Still, you weren’t sure that was any better.

The place’s immaculate cleanliness was almost unnerving, but it was fitting. The walls were a glaring white, and the floors were always polished until they shone. The hallways were meant to confuse those who hadn’t actively tried to memorize them, every corner seeming the same.

Your uniform had to be impeccable too, lest you made the place look bad. It was absurd how much laundry you had to do, and how much time you had to spend on your appearance. All for it to go to waste whenever things got messy with rowdier inmates.

But despite it all, there was a certain allure to the place that made you want to return each day. Something morbid, almost sinister, like a secret waiting to be uncovered. It was irresistible, and it would be until you found it out.

Doctor Chilton had just given you the rundown about the new inmate, stressing the importance of following protocol when dealing with him. He’d handed you his file to look over and on the very first page, there was a picture of the man they called the Chesapeake Ripper — Hannibal Lecter.

You were taken aback for a moment, not expecting him to look like that. Luckily, the Doctor did not seem to notice your reaction, and you quickly made sure your expression was neutral once more.

Despite having worked there for a few years, witnessing all sorts of things, you were a little rattled by the way he spoke about him. Especially after mentioning he didn’t want to lose any more nurses, alluding to the incident with a former inmate, Doctor Gideon.

As it turned out, Hannibal was also a doctor, and you couldn’t help but shudder at the prospect of some macabre pattern forming.

Of course, none of the other nurses wanted to be assigned to him, but Doctor Chilton trusted you to handle things well. You did what was asked of you and never caused any trouble. Truthfully, it wasn’t because you were particularly driven, but you wanted to fly under the radar and take it day by day.

And yet, it had still led you there, despite your efforts.

You took the elevator down from the top floor, reading the file as you went. It was noted that the risk of him being violent was quite high, but he had thus far been cooperative with the staff. In fact, he had even turned himself in to the police, which was a detail that stood out to you.

Considering his numerous horrific crimes, along with Doctor Chilton’s psychological assessment of him, he did not seem like a man who would let himself be apprehended so easily. It would gnaw at you, but you weren’t sure if you’d get the answers you suddenly seeked.

You left the file at your station to finish reading later, trying your best to ignore the looks of fear and pity some of the other nurses shot your way. Hopefully none of them would try to give you shallow words of affirmation, knowing you’d be the subject of gossip for the next week or so.

The maximum security cells were on the basement floor, but you stopped by the kitchen first to get his meal tray. You steeled your nerves as you passed through the extensive clearance, continuing down the hallway until you reached the very last cell, which was behind a set of double doors.

Was the light dimmer there, or were you imagining things? You could see shadows lurking in the corners of the room, an ominous feeling curling in your stomach. A cool gust from one of the AC vents made you shiver, but otherwise, you willed yourself to stay composed.

Finally, you dared to look into the actual cell. It was much nicer than most of the other cells, equipped with two bookshelves, a large mahogany desk, and some elaborate sketches that were taped on the walls. Perhaps part of a bargain struck with Doctor Chilton based on his cooperation with the authorities.

Then again, he was the new star patient, so that probably earned him a few more privileges. Despite those small luxuries though, you knew it’d be hard for him to forget that he was incarcerated.

Hannibal himself was lying down on his cot, reading, but he sat up as soon as you entered. He was even more handsome in person, almost rakish, and you allowed yourself the smallest pause to continue looking at him.

He had a fine nose, dark eyes, and an aristocratic air to him. Not to mention, a full, obscene mouth that was surely meant to cast impure thoughts.

Somehow, you had to admit that even his slate gray jumpsuit fit him quite well. If he truly was the Devil, then word of his burning, unholy beauty was not a lie.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted with a smile that you were sure had charmed many in the past.

“Good afternoon. Stay where you are, please,” you said firmly but politely, returning the smile just slightly. “I’ve brought lunch.”

He obeyed, hands resting on his knees. Slowly, tentatively, you made your way to the slot in the glass where you could deposit the tray.

“Please don’t retrieve it until I’m gone, and let a guard know when you’re done so they can collect it.”

He nodded, smile still in place. “Thank you.”

You began to retreat, feeling his gaze fixed on your back. It wasn’t until your hand was on the door knob that you realized your heart was racing. Adrenaline was dancing beneath your skin like little bolts of electricity, but at least your breathing was even.

What was it that had affected you so deeply? Was it the thrill of looking into the eyes of pure evil?

No, that was far too simple, and therefore what you had expected… but that wasn’t all you’d been able to see. It was hard to decipher just at first glance, but you hadn’t been brave enough to hold eye contact for long. And you certainly weren’t any braver when you returned to deliver his supper later that evening.

He was still all smiles and charming obedience, but you noticed his eyes wandered a lot more. It might have been a little amusing, if you weren’t so nervous. If anything, to have his attention was both intimidating and bewitching.

It made you want to say something more, but you weren’t sure what. Still, you knew better than to engage too much outside of protocol.

Or at least you thought you did.

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

Moonlight slipping through the foliage, anointing the darkened world in silver. A deer silently drank from a stream, unaware the hunter had spotted it. Head bent, throat long. It would be an easy shot, arrow cleanly piercing the jugular.

It ran, but it did not get very far. Its wide, ink-black eyes were looking up at the beautiful face of the moon, silhouetting the hunter. Its weakening heart leapt at the sight.

The last thing it saw was his knife.

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

You woke up with a start, panting and confused. Sleep slid off you slowly, like a veil uncovering your eyes. Your hand unconsciously went to your throat, but unsurprisingly, you found no arrow’s fletching.

Two weeks had passed with nothing especially of note. You had read the entirety of Hannibal’s file, the details of his brutality leaking out into your life beyond Baltimore State Hospital.

It was hard to peel off all the misery embedded in its walls, especially being exposed to it daily. It was easier to compartmentalize instead, letting your mind go blank at the end of the day. But the dreams were an inevitable torment, nonsensical and intensely vivid.

You sat up in bed, rubbing your eyes and sighing into the silence of your small bedroom. You stared into the middle distance for a few minutes, mentally preparing to start your day.

In the time that had passed, you had exchanged a few more words with Hannibal that were not part of protocol. He had asked your name, his tone kept carefully casual, and you thought it only fair to tell him.

After that, he had ventured to ask more innocuous questions about yourself, perhaps trying to test the limits of your interactions. You had answered most of them truthfully but vaguely, worried about him psychoanalyzing you.

Something told you he'd also know if you were lying, so you figured it’d be mostly useless to try. But you were entitled to your secrets, too, and you preferred keeping your cards close to your chest.

Yet you were also aware that it would not deter him, but unbeknownst to him, you were just as headstrong.

Later, after having slipped on your mask of cool indifference and clocking into work, you brought down his breakfast. You found him at his desk, sketching. He glanced up without moving his head, pencil still moving.

“Good morning,” he greeted. “Is it nice out today?”

“Depends on what you consider ‘nice’,” you said mildly, making slow work of depositing his meal tray. “It’s been intermittently raining since last night, and I don’t think it will stop any time soon.”

“Not bad at all,” he said, his tone ever so slightly wistful. “I do quite enjoy rain. I hope you didn’t forget your umbrella.”

Strangely, you couldn’t help but feel a little sympathy for him. The sudden loss of freedom was an unbearable thought to you, and you didn’t really wish it on anyone. But that wasn’t to say he didn’t deserve to be in the position he was in.

He noticed you hovering but not saying anything. Finally, his pencil halted and he looked up at you, leaning forward slightly. His assessing gaze pinned you in place, but your body was tense and ready to flee.

“You sound tired. Did you sleep poorly?” He asked.

You blinked in surprise, the question snapping you back to the present. Lowering your gaze, you inclined your head.

“I’m fine, thank you for asking,” you said politely. “I should get going, I’ll be back in an hour.”

He pursed his lips in what seemed like irritation, but he didn’t press you. Instead, he stopped you once more by changing the subject.

“Before I try to talk to Frederick about it, there’s something I’d like to ask you,” Hannibal said.

You looked at him with apprehensive curiosity. “I cannot promise you anything, but you may ask me.”

“I would like to draw you, if you’d model for me,” he said. “Simple stuff, all of it appropriate. I promise. I’m just in dire need of a muse.”

“What makes you think he will say yes to such a request?” You asked, not yet processing everything in your state of shock.

He smirked. “He needs my help with certain things, so it’s only fair I get something in return.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “And… Why the interest in me, specifically?”

“It would be a sin not to immortalize features like yours.”

Heat crawled up to your face and your arms tightened against your torso, but you kept a mostly neutral expression on your face. You weren’t sure if he was being serious or just toying with you to unnerve you, but you had a feeling it was a mixture of both.

You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of a bigger reaction, but it was likely he could still tell he’d rattled you. The worst part was that deep inside, you also took his interest as a compliment, but there was no way you would let that show.

“I’ll give it some thought,” you said slowly, unsure why you were even considering it. “Pending Doctor Chilton’s approval, of course.”

“Of course,” he said with a nod. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.”

With that, you left, floating down the corridor as if detached from your body. The whole situation had a feeling of unreality to it, and you kept expecting to wake up once again.

As you got to the nurse’s station, another nurse told you that Doctor Chilton had summoned you to his office. You blinked at her in surprise. Impossible… Had Hannibal really been so fast?

Next thing you knew, you were knocking on the door to his office, turning the knob when you heard him grant you access.

“There you are,” Doctor Chilton said, one hand resting on his cane. “Close the door behind you and take a seat, will you?”

You dipped your chin in compliance and mechanically followed instructions. For what seemed like an eternity, he said nothing, studying you instead. You shifted slightly in your seat, instinctively returning the favor if only because you didn’t want to be the one to look away.

He himself had been a victim of Hannibal’s more than once, and his body bore all of the evidence. Still, the Doctor had an undeniable obsession, using any and every opportunity to brag about Hannibal’s capture.

Clearly, the impact had been more than skin deep. No one ever dared to outwardly gossip about it, but it was well-known regardless.

It wasn’t often that you dealt with him directly, and you were being painfully reminded of why you preferred it that way.

“Did…” you began, but he interrupted.

“I watched it all through the cameras. He knew I would be when he asked you that.” He leaned forward on the desk, hands clasped. “Wise choice not to give in just yet.”

You couldn’t help but balk at this. “I beg your pardon?”

He raised an eyebrow. “It must have been a tempting offer, to be the Devil’s muse. I would not blame you if you were at least a little flattered.”

Your eyes, just like your resolve, were like steel. “Why have you called me here, if I may ask?”

His smug, easy grin faded as he let out a long sigh, his patience wavering for a moment.

“Hannibal is right about my needing him, though I am not the only one who does. The reason why is classified, as you can imagine, so I cannot tell you much,” he said, keeping his tone bored as if he couldn’t be bothered to explain it to you. “What I’m trying to understand now is why he wants you in return.”

“I’m just as confused, trust me.”

“From what I have observed, you don’t speak much, even if he has tried. I wonder if the challenge interests him…” he drifted off thoughtfully for a moment. “Though I suppose he’s always liked to surround himself with pretty things, too.”

You stiffened, taken aback by the strange compliment. “And so you are expecting me to say yes?”

“I’m not expecting, no, but I’m sure you’ve gathered that this goes beyond Baltimore State. Of course, should you choose to assist us, you would not only be generously compensated, but I would be immensely grateful, as well.”

You thought about it for a moment. The additional income would definitely be helpful, but you had to admit you were also growing more and more curious about the whole thing. What else did you have going on, otherwise?

Still, you had to try and cover all your bases first. You couldn’t make it too easy for him, after all.

You slightly tilted your head to the side.“Grateful… so you could call it a favor, then?”

He raised both eyebrows. “A favor?”

“Yes, Doctor. He’s a highly dangerous patient and you are asking me to spend longer periods of time – I’m presuming alone – with him. The safety of all staff should be your top priority, right?” you said pointedly, crossing your arms over your chest. “What use is money if no one’s alive to collect it?”

His green eyes narrowed as he seemed to weigh his options. Your face remained implacable, though there was also a challenging shade in your features that he did not miss. Otherwise, he could not get a very good read on you, and that suddenly intrigued him. Perhaps you’d be more useful than he’d originally thought.

“Right… You make a good point,” he finally conceded. “Well, I am a man of honor, after all. Anything you might need, you can always ask.”

You smiled as genially as you could. “How gracious of you, Doctor Chilton. Thank you.”

His false smile was more like a sneer. “Of course. You don’t have to give your final answer now, but…”

“I accept,” you said, cutting him off. “I am honored by the opportunity.”

—-----------------------------------------------------

“How close are you able to get to the glass?”

“Up to ten paces away,” you said, taking your cardigan off and draping it over the back of the chair you’d brought. “Should be close enough, no?”

“Not nearly,” Hannibal said with a small, flirtatious smile that you did not return.

Still, he could see a flicker of amusement cross your face, softening you infinitesimally. It only made him ache all the more to see you up close. He felt a sudden thrill that warmed his extremities — a feeling he recognized but had not felt for some time.

“Doctor Chilton has given us two hours, so I’d advise you to use the time wisely,” you said, slightly lifting an eyebrow and setting your hands on your hips. “How would you like to start?”

“Just as you are, at your most natural,” he said, picking up his pencil. “Let’s see…”

It was strange at first, to have him stare so intently at you. You, who were seldom cowed by anything, could still barely keep eye contact with him. As an excuse, you offered your profile, turning your body to face the wall.

He complimented the elegant swoop of your neck and you rewarded him with a demure glance and soft words of gratitude. His grip on the pencil tightened, his heartbeat spiking. You caught the way he shifted slightly in his chair, swallowing hard.

Despite your icy exterior, you felt a thrill at the effect you seemed to have on him.

You hadn’t been instructed to do anything but show up, but you knew instinctively that it would take more than that to keep Doctor Chilton’s favor… and Hannibal’s interest. Luckily, you were well versed in the art of slow seduction – giving just enough, but then withdrawing in equal measure.

Not to mention, it felt safer to do so on the other side of the glass.

Once or twice, he gave you brief instructions on how to pose your arms or which way to angle your head. You fell into a sort of meditative state, the reality of the whole situation slipping away from you, as well as the passage of time.

When your watch’s timer went off, he seemed to snap back into focus at the same time as you. You looked up, startled at the sight of all the sheets of paper strewn about the desk. You noticed his hands were stained with graphite as he set his pencil down.

Curiosity got the best of you, and you took a step closer if only to try to get a glimpse. There was an almost frantic quality to the sketches, as if he was worried he might not be able to trace all the lines he wanted to in time. You weren’t able to gather many details from that angle, but you did not doubt his talent. Something about those hands…

“Productive first day,” you said, lightly teasing him to distract yourself from other thoughts passing through your mind.

A smile and the faintest dip of his chin. “I have not been so inspired in a while.”

“You flatter me too much. I’m sure it wasn’t just due to me,” you said, looking behind him at his bookshelf. “What are you currently reading?”

He seemed momentarily surprised at your interest, glancing over his shoulder and slightly raising his eyebrows.

“Byron, actually.” He chuckled as he saw your reaction to the poet’s name. “The irony of it is not lost on me, trust me.”

You looked away. “You’re finding beauty where you can. I understand.”

“I always have, in my own way,” he said. “I have a feeling you might relate.”

“In places like this, there is no other choice,” you said, noncommittal. “Not if you want to survive it.”

“The great object of life is sensation,” he quoted. “To feel that we exist, even though in pain.”

You let out a short exhale as you slipped your cardigan back on. How curious that he would be a romantic, but you supposed, in a way, it made sense.

Free of being a so called muse for the day, you withdrew back into yourself. He’d gotten the barest glimpse of another side of you — softer, more open — and that had to be enough for the time being.

Had to leave him wanting more, after all.

“I will see you bright and early tomorrow, Hannibal. Get some rest.”

------

#hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter x nurse!reader #hannibal fanfiction #hannibal smut #hannibal lecter fanfiction #minors dni

147 notes · View notes

iprobablyshipit91 · 1 year

Text

iprobablyshipit91 Fic Recs

So this started as me keeping links of all my favourite Dean Winchester fics that I finally decided to share so others could hopefully find some great stories and the authors would know how much I love their work. It’s kind of grown to a very, very huge list, but I love everyone of these works, they’re amazing and deserve so much love. I hope you find something you love on here 💕

There’s a mix of fluff, angst, smut, au etc. Please make sure you read the warnings for each story on it’s own page.

Beautiful Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Dean Winchester x Reader

Should I Stay or Should I Go by @daisythekitty

Sweet Dreams by @deanssweetheart23

Slip Up by @deanwritings

Bad Moon Rising by @hintsofhoney

Not the Planned Delivery by @lazydoodlesandfanfic

Unnamed by @lostdreamr-blog1

I’ve Got You by @spnexploration

Broken Ribs Against Fingertips by @the--blackdahlia

Motel Diablo by @waynes-multiverse

Sharing is Caring by @zepskies

Mini Date by @avanatural

The Talk by @avanatural

And Baby Makes Four by @carryonmywaywardone-shots

Nows the Time by @crashdevlin

Down on Dean by @deanwanddamons

The Prettiest One by @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

Always You and Me by @deanwinchesterswitch

Bullets and Bands by @deanwinchesterswitch

Capeesh? By @deanwritings

I Ship It by @deanwritings

It’s Okay by @deanwritings

Safe Now by @deanwritings

What We Lost by @deanwritings

Tell Me About… by @impala-dreamer

Glances by @kasimagines

It’s Okay, I Love You by @kasimagines

Poison by @kasimagines

Obeying Temptation by @kittenofdoomage

Sweet Satisfaction by @kittenofdoomage

Nannas Love Sammy by @littlegreenplasticsoldier

Something New by @princessmisery666

Date Night by @princessmisery666

I Would Never Hurt You by @procrastinatorimagines

Frayed Ends by @scuttling

Must be Love on the Brain by @sleepywinchester

Below Freezing by @soaringeag1e

Promises by @supersleepygoat

Friendzoned by @talesmaniac89

Stupid Cupid by @talesmaniac89

Crazy on You by @thoughtslikeaminefield

Different by @watermelonlipstick

Labyrinth by @waynes-multiverse

Love on the Brain by @waynes-multiverse

Gesundheit by @waynes-multiverse

Dark Waters by @wearywinchester

Above Ground by @wearywinchester

I Won’t Say (I’m in Love) by @zepppie

The Wrong Winchester by @cherry3point14

Good Things by @crashdevlin

Baby Spoon by @deanwanddamons

Rumours by @deanwinchesterswitch

Blind Love by @jawritter

Faded by @kasimagines

Sacrifice by @kasimagines

The Last Call by @kasimagines

To Know You by @littlegreenplasticsoldier

Watch and Learn by @littlegreenplasticsoldier

Can’t Fight This Feeling by @pink-sparkly-witch

Mischief Managed (2) by @sinfulsoulx

A Few Moments of Madness | Last Time? by @smellingofpoetry

Familiar by @spnhunter4life

Dream On by @talesmaniac89

Well, Hello There Stranger by @talesmaniac89

If You Want it to Be by @zepskies

Midnight Espresso | Devour Me by @zepskies

Clear the Area by Alisha Ashton

Many of Horror by Alisha Ashton

Closing Walls and Ticking Clocks by Alisha Ashton

In the Dark by Alisha Ashton

Comfort by @fangirlingfromdownunder

Baby, We’ve got a Problem by @deanwritings

Night Falls by @deanwritings

Captives of the Court by @impala-dreamer

Carry On by @jawritter

My Saviour by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes

Heart of a Hunter by @muchamusedaboutnothing

The Widow by @pink-sparkly-witch

The One That Got Away by @pink-sparkly-witch

Hold On I’m Coming by @ravengirl94

The Arrangement by @ravengirl94

Long Way Home by @supersleepygoat

Cross my Heart by @smol-and-grumpy

Home to You by @smol-and-grumpy

Collared by @spnexploration

Pack by @spnexploration

Limelight by @talesmaniac89

Charity Heist by @talesmaniac89

The Man in Apartment 43 by @talesmaniac89

Practically Magic by @thelibrarylesstrektraveled

Supernatural Series Rewrite: Season 1 by @waywardaardvark79

Supernatural Series Rewrite: Season 2 by @waywardaardvark79

Miscommunication by @winchest09

Don’t Say a Word by @winchester-girl67

Never Say Goodbye by @zepskies

#fic recs #Iprobablyshipit91 fic recs #Dean Winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean x you #dean winchester #please read these fics #you wont be disappointed #protective!dean winchester #alpha!dean winchester x omega!reader #dean winchester saves you #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #spn

1K notes · View notes

astraystayyh · 9 months

Text

for a little positivity on the tl!!! share your favorite stayblr accounts or fics that you think deserve more recognition (it can even be your own!!)

I'll start!! this hyunjin fic (the world does not exist at night by @hyu7eii ) might be the best hyune fic I've ever read and it's so underrated, just pure poetry

nothing, everything by @inniejeonginnie, very human and realistic, love cannot make you feel better instantly but it is the light at the end of the tunnel and this portrayed it perfectly

X marks the spot where we fall apart by @nicolagreta soo angsty it made me so sad :( like i physically felt it in my bones

on the same angsty note there is marry me by @liknws AND IT WRECKED ME. so beautifully written but in an achy way. very delicious pain

burden by @ellestray and it's one of the most accurate representation of han I've ever read, the dialogue is so mature yet so beautiful. i loved it so muchhh

everything by @sugrlamb THE REASSURANCE IS EVERYTHING IN THIS ONE, i need this specific seungmin.

special by @amelee23 this is different than usual skz pieces on here but it's so heartfelt and raw and the love is very pure in it, i loved it, a very fitting title

the mini love letter series by @agi-ppangx , FIRST such a cute concept, second the emotional rollercoaster from fluffy to angsty has me in a chokehold. (op i promise I'll reblog with my full thoughts soon!!!)

and i need more ppl to read butterfly bandage by @subskz , labyrinth by @soobnny and forgive me for what I haven't done by @rachalixie . I'll never stop shouting my love for these fics they're so perfectly written, like pure art, like i can't believe I'm reading this for free type of writing

#pls share ur fav fics i wanna read moreeeeeeeee #also ik this is motivating to writers which in turn makes them write more pieces for us that we can giggle/cry/lose our minds over SO #win win FOR ALL PARTIES #please give these fics a read I PROMISE IT'S SOOO WORTH IT #ily all good nightt ❣️#fic recs #sahar's.thoughts <3

210 notes · View notes

the-common-cowgirl · 9 months

Text

It’s Only Forever, Not Long at All…

Labyrinth AU Mini-Series. Each chapter based on the chronological soundtrack of the cult classic film, Labyrinth (1986).

Goblin King!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit - Warnings applied to each chapter

Summary: Your favorite teenage novel becomes your life as a silly mistake earns you a race against time to save your baby sister from the Goblin King, Aemond. As you race through his Labyrinth, he slowly grows enamored by you as he watches you through his crystal.

Chapter 1: Into the Labyrinth

Chapter 2: Magic Dance

Chapter 3: Sarah

Chapter 4: Chilly Down

Chapter 5: Hallucination

Chapter 6: As the World Falls Down

Chapter 7: The Goblin Battle

Chapter 8: Within You

Chapter 9: Thirteen O’Clock

Chapter 10: Home at Last

Epilogue: Underground

#fanfic #house of the dragon #a song of ice and fire #gameofthrones #smut #aemond targaryen #game of thrones #labyrinth #aemond #aemond fanfiction #labyrinth fic #aemond x reader #aemond x you #hotd aemond #Spotify

173 notes · View notes

sunny-mercya · 1 year

Text

Masterlist

-> Masterlist 2 / 3 / 4 / 5

Other Accounts -> AO3 | Wattpad | Quotev

-> @mercya-reblogs Appreciations of FanFic's & Co.

-> @ordinary-mercya Blog for Causal things

-> Writer Recommends

Series;

Hey, Brother do you still believe in one another?

Heiji Hattori x Male Reader | Platonic! Shinichi Kudo x Brother!Reader

Fandom -> Detective Conan/Case Closed

Status; Ongoing

Summary; After Shinichi's disappearance you had lost the ground beneath you. Still you pulled through and stood as tall as you could. Though how much could you take till you break?

Based Songs -> Hey Brother | Saudade | Last Impression | I can't stop my love |

01. Saudade

02. Exhausted

03. Of Jealousy and Blessing

04. Awkward

04.2. Keeping Secrets

05. Nightlife

06. Love Sick

07. Love Letter

08. Therapy

09. (Self)hatred

10. Osaka Trip - Stalking

11. Osaka Trip - Abducted

12. Osaka Trip - Dubious love making

13. Osaka Trip - Fever Migraines

14. Osaka Trip - Rising Hope

15. Osaka Trip - Survival

16. Osaka Trip - Saving Knights

17. Osaka Trip - Recovery and Dates

18.

19.

Given

Heiji Hattori x Male Reader

Fandom -> Detective Conan/Case Closed

Mini Story to Hey, Brother

Status; Complete

Summary; 365 Days and you remain in all of them — through the good and bad times, Heiji and You would never break the bond of love you both had for one another as this love is for eternity.

01. Arguments

02. Cold Crash

03. Sensitivity

Gone.

Batfamily x Male Child Reader

Fandom -> Batman/DCU

Status; On Hold

Summary; All you wanted was a good night story from your family, not being kidnapped.

01. Not now

02. Mommy's Love

03. Hope

04. Rescue

Christmas Special

05. Chana

06. Sleepless

07. Disasters

One Shots;

Tokyo Revengers

Swimming | Platonic! Mikey Sano x Brother!Reader, ft. Draken

Bread baking gone wrong | Shinichiro Sano x Male Reader

First Date Magic | Nahoya (Smiley) Kawata x Male Reader

Sickly Summer | Bonten x Male Baby Reader

Detective Conan/Case Closed

Heiji Hattori

I can't stop my love for you! | Male Reader

Waiting | Male Reader

False Brother | Male Reader

Matsuda Jinpei

Big in Japan | Male Reader

MAGI - The Labyrinth of Magic

Kouen Ren

Caring in Secret | Male Reader

Sleep | Male Reader

Puns | Male Reader

Koumei Ren

World of Silence | Deaf Male Reader

Castlevania

Trevor Belmont

Small steps to forgiveness | Male Reader

Fucked up again | Male Reader

Turned | Male Reader

Attack on Titan

Levi Ackermann

Sweet family of mine | Male Reader – Single Dad & Modern Era AU

Bruce Wayne

No second chance | Male Reader

Clark Kent

Memento Mori | Male Reader

Marvel

Coming Home | Peter Quill x Son! Reader

Headcanons;

BatFam #1

Batman #1

Fem!Reader

Hearts Thievery | Kaito Kid – Soulmate AU

Denial and Acceptance | Shinichi Kudo – Soulmate AU

Tranquility | Shinichi Kudo

#male reader #anime #Masterlist of my lovely trash #manga #case closed #detective conan/case closed #tokyo revengers #fanfiction #one shot #fem reader #x reader #dc comcis #marvel #magi the labyrinth of magic #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin

236 notes · View notes

frostironfudge · 2 years

Text

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

hello, I'm fudge and this is my Bucky Barnes Masterlist, anything and everything Bucky is here: one shots, multi-part fics. please make sure to read all the warnings before reading each piece. your media consumption is your responsibility. please note minors dni with smut or dark themed content.

Main Masterlist // AO3

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Contains Smut **

One Shots:

Venus (Bodyguard Bucky) **

Conversations with The Devil [Submission for Spooktacular Smutfest 21 by boxofbonesfic] (Devil!Bucky Barnes) **

Part 2: Conversations with The Devil ** (Devil!Bucky Barnes)

Sparkle (BestFriend Bucky) [Submission for loveletterswritingchallenge by pellucid-constillations]

Tattooed On Your Palms Is My Love (Modern AU) **

Hide Your Lies (SoftDark!Mafia!Stucky AU) [submission for boxofbonesfic 's #Beastyoumadeofme22] **

If Only I Could Get To You First (Modern!Bucky Fake Dating AU)

Between Your Hands I Find Peace (FATWS!Bucky) [frostironfudge's funfair - mini movie theatre]

I'll Be Your Hideaway (Modern!AU) [frostironfudge's funfair - house of song - seven by taylor swift]

We Go A Lot Of Time [frostironfudge's funfair - house of song - Need To Know by Doja Cat] **

The Comfort You Bring - [frostironfudge's funfair - mini movie theatre] **

I Want You To Know [frostironfudge's funfair - house of song - Love You Like A Love Song - Selena Gomez]

My Angel (DBF! Bucky Barnes) **

I Really, Really Want To Kiss You - Personal Trainer!Bucky Barnes

107 - TFATWS!Bucky x Motocross!Reader (requested)

Keep Your Eyes On Me - Archeologist Bucky

Keep My Secret - Stucky x Reader (Dark Fic)

Baby, Keep Those Off (requested)

I'd Choose You (requested)

Devour **

Multi-Part Fics:

Stencils, Bouquets & Icing

An AU where Bucky is a tattoo artist and Steve is a florist, both find love much closer than they anticipated. Steve in Bucky's tattoo artist apprentice nicknamed Petal and Bucky in the baker opposite to his shop nicknamed Cupcake.

Pairing: Steve x Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Labyrinth (completed)

labyrinth (noun), a complicated set of paths and passages, through which it is difficult to find your way.

Bucky and You would do anything for Steve and Wanda, your respective best friends. In an attempt to avoid a tradition Steve and Wanda come up with a lie involving their best friends. A lie, that involves building a labyrinth. Bucky and You begin to build but will you two find your way out or be caught in it?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader, (Modern AU)

Masterlist

This Feeling I've Got (ongoing, sporadic updates)

A multi part series of one shots that can be read together or stand alone in their own sweet right. based in a non canon compliant FATWS AU. (angst mild, fluff, smut)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Fem Reader

Masterlist

Silhouettes In The Spotlight (completed)

Bucky Barnes has worked immensely hard to have a filmography expanding across genres and garnering accolades from critics, peers and fans. Y/N Y/L/N, with her debut novel (fan-fiction turned New York Times Bestseller) has two other best sellers under her belt. Next is her highly anticipated fourth book lined up for release.

SHEILD Productions has acquired the film rights to her debut novel and they want Bucky Barnes to play the lead (aka himself) by any means necessary.

This story is about angst, lust, heartbreak, and love. After all fairytales only exist in books and movies right?

Pairing: Actor!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Masterlist

I Think I Met You In My Dreams Once (completed)

After receiving an honourable discharge from his military service that was caused by the loss of his arm, James Barnes begins to come to terms with several things. He also finds solace in youtube videos, memes and social media, where he happens to find you. (angst, fluff, smut) (Modern!AU)

Pairing: Ex Military!Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Fem Reader

Masterlist

It Comes Back To Me (completed)

Can Bucky have you come back to him after he pushed you too far?

Pairing: Lawyer!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Part I // Part II

688 notes · View notes

ass-deep-in-demons · 5 months

Text

Fandom : Lord of the Rings

Starring: Boromir + friends & family,

Tropes: character study, prequel, love letter to the canon, adventure

Rating: T+

Chapter Length: ~10k

Author's Note: This mini-series is... a pilot? a prologue? to my AU Of Wandering Birds, but generally it functions as a standalone. I wrote it because I love Boromir and I want him to have a life. Also, I love Minas Tirith and I will be moving there next summer.

✦ Chapter 2 ✦

… in which Boromir defends the Osgiliath Bridge, and we all know how it ends.

[AO3] [masterpost]

[previous chapter]

Osgiliath, 29th of Lótessë 2018 TA

Boromir had never thought much about how the afterlife might look like. Whenever someone mentioned to him the concept of the passage of souls, he would imagine something akin to Osgiliath as a place for the eternal roaming of lost spirits.

The once splendid Ogiliath was now a labyrinth of crumbling white marble, haunted by wild cats and birds of prey. The walls were often clad in swirling wispy strands of mist wafting from the Great River.

From his vantage point, atop one of the few still standing towers on the Eastern Bank, Boromir could almost see the spirits of his soldiers roaming the shadowed stone corridors. Many of his men had fallen defending these very walls over the last score of months. And still, it all seemed to have been in vain. No matter how many orcish camps Boromir's troops had destroyed, no matter how many Haradrim convoys Faramir's Rangers had hijacked, the Enemy did manage to encircle Osgiliath at last, and now they were going to have to fight the Shadow here, in the City, to keep control over the Great Bridge.

Presently, the Gondorian army had full control of Osgiliath, however, numerous orc encampments were scattered on the surrounding grounds, and more fiends were drawing near to the City. Boromir could see the Enemy’s commandos approaching the white walls and seeking entrance, causing skirmishes. For now, Gondor’s troops were doing an admirable job at holding them off, under the command of Angbor, a mighty warrior from Lamedon.

"Still no sight of Captain Faramir?" a welcome, friendly voice inquired, breaking Boromir's morose musings.

"I'm not expecting him to be back yet. He is bound to take longer," said Boromir, affecting composure.

"I am sure you're right," Derufin said, as he joined Boromir on the vantage point.

Faramir had ridden out at first light, with a dozen of his men, when the orcs were commencing the assault on the ruined City. There remained a Ranger encampment in South Ithilien, and Faramir went to evacuate them. Boromir's present task was to keep the Enemy out of the ruined City long enough to allow the Rangers to escape before the Bridge would be overrun.

Except the Bridge will hold, Boromir firmly reassured himself . He had actually argued this very point with Faramir last night. Faramir believed the City might very well fall, and that the Gondorian army should be prepared for evacuation further West, to Causeway Forts. This is why Faramir had insisted on rescuing the Ranger Camp in South Ithilien - he thought they might be permanently cut out from their main forces after the lost battle. Boromir listened to his brother's plight and allowed this rescue mission, albeit with a heavy heart. He had also ordered the moving of the wounded and partial evacuation of stocks and equipment to the Causeway Forts. It would be unwise to ignore Faramir’s advice altogether, and they had to be ready for every opportunity.

However, privately Boromir still believed Osgiliath would hold. He had promised his Father, after all. With the crumbling outer fortifications it was impossible to keep the orc bands outside the City for long, that was true. The plan was to hold them at bay only long enough to let Faramir's men retreat through the Bridge, then lure them into the City. Boromir was prepared to let them in and then fight them on the ancient streets, among the crumbling white walls and rubble. The labyrinth-like grounds would work to Gondor’s advantage. Boromir had fortified and manned a few strongholds inside the City: the old Garrison, the Western Bridge Towers, and the Arsenal, and also prepared a few nasty surprises for the Enemy. This way, Mordor’s advantage due to greater numbers could be countered, as the ambushes that the Gondorians had set up would allow them to eliminate larger groups of foes at once. They could trap the orcs inside and finish them off, hopefully gaining a few more months until the next assault, and complete the reconstruction of Rammas Echor on time.

"My men are in positions,” Derufin reported. “Captain Aglahad and Sergeant Hirgon are on the Western Bank, supervising the setting of our traps. Master Zbylut and the pioneers are still fortifying the fords.”

The fords were in truth what it was all about. Osgiliath was the only crossing point on Anduin for many miles North and South. There were numerous fords in the City and the Enemy could use them to move an army, but Boromir’s men have rendered the fords unpassable with barricades. To cross through them, the Enemy would need to first capture the entire City and dismantle the blockades. The only remaining link between Western and Eastern Osgiliath was the massive wooden Bridge.

“I thank you, friend,” said Boromir. Truly both his brother and Derufin had been invaluable in their help with all of the war effort that had led to this point.

“If I die today, my chief regret will be never having written to Lady Morwen,” Derufin said, his cheerfulness belying his morbid words. “If we live through this day and I still won’t write to her, yours is the duty to smack me.”

“I will smack you right now, for prattling about maids when we are about to fight for our Kingdom,” said Boromir.

“Oh, loosen up, will you? Everything is in order, Boromir. Your plan will work. You are entirely too serious, and it would do you good if you, too, had a lass at home to think about.” Derufin blabbed and Boromir opened his mouth to retort, annoyed, but Derufin wouldn’t let him. “Do not try to counter me, I’m right. Even your Lord Father would say I’m right.”

Boromir sighed.

“It is the thoughts of Lord Steward that are the cause for my mood. I have made an oath to him that I will not let the Enemy have the Great Bridge. It is either victory or death for me today.”

Derufin snorted.

“That is the most laughable thing you have ever said in my presence, Boromir, and I’ve heard you compose poetry for the late Princess,” his friend commented dryly.

Boromir felt a surge of bitterness.

“Do not be mentioning the Princess now! I am in earnest! Either the Bridge holds or I die defending it. My honour demands it.”

“Damn you, Boromir! Your honour demands that you serve your liege the Steward, and you will be of no use to him dead,” Derufin chastised. “If things go badly, we will retreat to fight another day. I will personally drag you to the Causeway Forts, and I know Faramir will assist me. And the Lord your Father will thank me profusely, and decorate me!” Derufin sighed. “You will not escape this war so easily, so do not look to die a hero. Instead, think of your men, and what you owe to them.”

Boromir felt his face and neck go red with shame. Derufin was of course right. What am I, a lad of twelve? he thought. To be thinking of my wounded pride, to be jumping onto my Enemy’s sword, when my men would be left leaderless, at Mordor’s mercy. He solemnly vowed to himself that he would not be courting death on this day, and would not accept his own demise so readily as that.

But neither could he suffer to break the oath he had given to his Lord. I cannot lose Osgiliath and I cannot die today, and so that leaves only one route open.

“Then we must make sure this day is ours, no matter the cost,” said Boromir, affecting a rueful smile for the sake of his friend.

“And that is the Boromir of Gondor I know and love,” Derufin exclaimed and clasped his shoulder. “When this thrice accursed pile of crumbling stone is secure again, we shall find you a pretty lady to pine after. That will cure you of all your foolish notions of heroism right away.”

Boromir groaned.

“Must that you are in league with my Lord Father to speak so,” he complained. “I do not see you making much progress in the way of…”

“Boromir!” Derufin interrupted him. “Look there! It is Faramir’s Rangers!”

Boromir snapped his head towards the East and squinted. He could not see as far as his eagle-eyed friend the archer, but he did notice a small blot of green moving on the horizon. He immediately felt relieved. Soon Faramir would be safe again on the Western Bank, helping with the evacuation. And yet… Something else caught his eye… Something bigger, vaster, a crawling ribbon of black, that was moving behind the blot of colour they had earlier identified as Faramir’s company.

“What is that, behind the Rangers?” asked Derufin dumbfounded, and Boromir felt the hairs on his neck rise to attention. He knew the answer, and dreaded it.

“That, my friend, is a Haradrim army,” he said. “One we cannot hope to hold at bay.”

“But how…?” Derufin asked the very question that was on Boromir’s mind right then. He had received no intel about this army. The Haradrim could have hidden from Gondorian scouting teams, but they could not hide from the Lord Steward, for Lord Steward saw all… Or did he? How had they missed an entire army?

“Some foul sorcery of the Enemy, no doubt,” Boromir said bitterly. “Come! We must go down and confer with the others. We cannot hope to contain them in the City, they are too many!”

They ran down the tower stairs, mouthing quiet curses. Boromir halted near the end of the staircase, because there he spotted Huor, his young Squire, sitting on the bottom step. The boy rose up quickly once he saw his Lord.

“Captain-General!” the boy saluted, but Boromir waved him off. He had given in to the boy’s pleadings and allowed him to tag along for this campaign, not predicting that the situation could grow so dire. Now he cursed his lack of proper caution.

“Huor, you are relieved from duty, effective immediately!” he bellowed.

The boy gasped.

“But, my Lord! How…” Huor cried with the expression of utter betrayal.

“No buts, lad! This City is about to become a bloodbath, and you don't belong anywherenear it. Cross the Bridge, leave Osgiliath with the wounded and await me in Causeway Forts,” Boromir gave his orders in passing and did not even stop to see if the boy listened. “Sound the alarm!” he shouted at the nearby Sergeant. Boromir was already entering his battle frenzy, and the soldiers around him scrambled to carry out his orders. “And fetch me Captain Aglahad. Where is the Baron with our cavalry?”

“Here am I, Lord” answered Baron Hallas. The Baron and his Knights havd been stationed on the Eastern Bank in an event an operation on the field outside was needed. An event such as this.

“I need you to ride out with your Knights and secure a safe passage for the returning Rangers, Ser Hallas. They have an entire army of the Southrons on their backs,” Boromir said, and the Baron’s eyes widened in shock. “The Rangers are mounted and should arrive here soon, but they will have a hard time passing through the surrounding fields with the orc commandos pressing in on us,” Boromir said. “Bring them to safety, and then lead them through the Bridge.”

“Aye, Lord,” said Baron Hallas, and signalled to his Knights.

"Come, Derufin!" said Boromir, as he trotted towards the battlements, where the sounds of skirmish were coming from. "Let us find Captain Angbor and plan our defence."

Ser Angbor of Lamedon was Boromir’s senior by some ten years. During Boromir’s youth Angbor was considered the finest warrior of the Realm. Boromir had always looked up to the Lamedonian for his legendary fearlessness and battle prowess. Now Boromir was the commanding officer, and a seasoned warrior in his own right, but he still considered it an honour to fight alongside Ser Angbor. The Lamedonian was in command of the 2nd Company of Heavy Infantry.

They found Ser Angbor on the battlements atop Osgiliath’s Eastern Gate, already looking battle-worn, his armour soiled with black orcish ichor. The Gate was barricaded and manned with heavy-plated soldiers, to whom Angbor was bellowing commands. A division of Derufin’s bowmen assisted with the defence. The main problem with Osgiliath fortifications was that they were crumbling, and the outer wall had gaps in it. Gaps that required barricading, and now had to be defended, as the orcish commandos were constantly trying to get in through them.

“Captain-General!” Angbor saluted when he saw Boromir and Derufin ascend the battlements. “Are you seeing this? A whole army of blasted Southrons! Out of thin air no less!”

The men all looked to the East. The swaths of land below Ephel Duath were blackened with columns of marching Haradrim, and the fields surrounding Osgiliath were swarming with orc bands. Boromir’s heart rejoiced as he saw the Company of Rangers on horseback, approaching rapidly. He could see Faramir leading them, hacking at the monsters with broad slashes of his sword. Boromir’s stomach did a flip when he saw his brother deflect an arrow with his buckler. Valar preserve Faramir , he prayed. Near the battlements, the knight cavalry under Baron Hallas’ command was doing an admirable job at clearing a passage for the Rangers. Hopefully both companies would soon return to the safety of one of the sally gates.

Easy it is for our mounted knights to cleave the orc commando, for the monsters are savage, poorly equipped and undrilled, Boromir thought bitterly. The Enemy has only sent them to annoy us and wear down our defences. They are but a starter, and the main course is about to be served. Once again he looked worriedly at the marching army of Harad, which was making slow but steady progress across the plains. He could make out their banners, which appeared but blots of red over the troops from the distance.

“We need to plan an evacuation,” said Derufin.

“Aye, and then what?” Ser Angbor asked and spat over the parapet angrily. An arrow missed his head by an inch, but the warrior did not even flinch. “We retreat to the Causeway Forts, they take Osgiliath, they dismantle the barricades on the fords and then their entire army can cross Anduin freely.”

“Well, what choice do we have?!” Derufin cried. “They’re too many! They will paint this pile of stones red with our blood if we stay here!”

“What choice indeed?” said Angbor and looked to Boromir.

They were in fact both looking at Boromir, expecting an answer from him. An answer he did not have. The situation seemed impossible, but he knew he could not show weakness at that moment. If he wavered now, he would seal their doom surer than any Haradrim army ever could.

“I say the Enemy is not yet upon us,” he said, forcing his face into stillness, and his voice into calm assuredness. ”We yet have some time left. We wait for Faramir and Hallas, and then we confer about…”

“We confer about what?” Faramir’s voice came from behind and the three men turned to face him. “What will talking accomplish, when we are about to be slaughtered?!” Faramir ascended the battlement, accompanied by Captain Aglahad and Sergeant Hirgon. “I beg of you, Captain-General, prolong this madness no further. Let us retreat to Causeway Forts, like we’ve discussed, and save what life we yet can.” Boromir could see his brother’s face was determined, his leathers splashed with ichor, hair tangled by the wind from his wild ride with the Rangers. He had rarely seen Faramir in such a frenzy.

“This will not solve our problems!” Angbor countered. “If we retreat now, we’ll have to face the same army the day after tomorrow, only in the Causeway Forts, and our position will not be better, then! Need I remind you that the Rammas is still incomplete? There are farmers toiling on the Pelennor Fields! Crops growing! If we want to save lives, we’ll have to fight today, or never.”

“Oh, yes, better to have all our forces anni…” Faramir started, but Boromir cut him off mid sentence.

“Enough. We will not squabble,” he said, with all his Captain-General’s authority he could muster. “Ser Angbor, you will continue to defend the Gate, for now. Captain Aglahad, what is the situation on the Western Bank?”

Aglahad, who was pale and sweating, and catching his breath, no doubt after running the entire length of Osgiliath to answer Boromir’s summons, swallowed visibly but managed to gather his wits.

“The 1st Company of heavy plates and the 3rd’s lancers await your orders in the Garrison, Sir!” he reported. “And I still have two companies of skirmishers that have yet to see battle today. They are manning the traps, like you’ve ordered, with Captain Derufin’s archers.”

“I’m afraid the traps won’t be of much help, when the Haradrim get here,” said Boromir. “Once they start passing the Bridge there will be too many to take down.” He looked at his most trusted lieutenants, and words failed him. He did not know what to do. Do not show weakness, he told himself. You have to be strong for their sake. They deserve to die knowing that their leader held faith, and take some last solace from that at least. “I need a moment alone to think on what to do next,” he proclaimed. “Until I’m back, proceed as planned before.”

With that, Boromir turned around and descended from the battlement. All around him, across the Courtyard of the Eastern Gate, men at arms were running errands and passing weapons necessary to keep the barricades manned and supplied, and fend off the pathetic orcish assault at the walls. Boromir crossed the Courtyard and entered a small supply station fashioned in a nearby ruined building, feeling tiredness almost overwhelm him, hoping that a glass of water would clear his head. Once his eyes adjusted to the dimmnes of the storeroom, a movement in one of the corners caught his eye.

“Huor!” he thundered. “How am I to defend this City, if even my own Squire ignores my explicit commands?”

Huor came out of the shadow and straightened. The boy was trembling, but his fists were tightened and his mouth set in a determined line.

“I would not leave you, Lord,” he said simply. Boromir opened his mouth to argue, but then he heard another person enter the supply storage.

“Do not be hard on him, brother,” said Faramir. “You would have done the same in his position. He won’t leave you alone, and neither will I.”

Boromir sat down on one of the wooden benches and sighed deeply. Huor handed him a glass of water, which he downed hastily. Faramir was right. His soldiers, his lieutenants, his brother and even his young Squire, still a child on all accounts, they would not abandon him, even in the face of death. And what am I doing? Cowering in a storeroom, wasting our precious time with my indecision. Some general am I, he chided himself bitterly.

Faramir must have gleaned some of Boromir’s thoughts in that moment, for he sat on the bench beside him, and put his hand on Boromir’s shoulder.

Boromir looked to his brother.

“You’ve nearly ran into the Harad army with your Rangers, during your retreat,” he said. “We’ve watched your progress from the Eastern Watchtower, they were right behind you. Have you managed to get a closer look? Can you tell me aught about them?” he inquired, hoping that Faramir could give him something, some piece of information, anything, that could yet save this day.

“Aye,” said Faramir. “This is why I am so eager to flee, though you might call it cowardice, and you would be right. There is something evil about that army, Boromir. I am telling you! I’ve fought many Southrons over the past years, but none like those. The sheer terror they inspired when we looked upon them over our shoulders… Then there is the mystery of their sudden arrival…” Faramir shuddered. “We cannot face them.”

“We must,” said Boromir tersely, “today, or tomorrow, it hardly seems to matter.”

Faramir sighed, and hesitated, before speaking again.

“I had a dream last night, before I set off to the Ranger’s Camp,” he stated, and Boromir swallowed a groan that almost escaped him. Here we go again with the dreams, he thought. But Faramir spoke further. “It was full of pathos, and ominous, but it also carried hope. Hope for our Kingdom. I’ll tell you all about it later, but for now just…” Faramir halted his speech then, overcome with emotion.

“Hush, brother,” Boromir said and grasped Faramir’s hand. “Leave the nightly terrors for when we’re both safe and sound in the Citadel. For now let us both stay wide awake and not in the dreaming.”

Faramir shook his head.

“Let me finish, brother. Listen just this once,” he persisted. “I am sorry for putting pressure on you earlier. I do not pretend to know what we should do now, and I do not envy you the burden of command. But know this: whatever you decide, we will all stand by you. The entire army. You have always been there for me. Whatever trouble was upon me, you were always there to chase it away. And this time you will, too.”

Boromir felt the sting of tears in his eyes, to his shame and panic.

“I am not sure I can do it, brother,” he whispered, not even caring that young Huor might hear him. The Squire had been with him through thick and thin, he probably knew Boromir better than anyone at that point.

“You can,” Faramir said with conviction, his gentle touch upon Boromir’s shoulder steadying Boromir’s jumbled nerves. “And you will. You are Boromir of Gondor, and that is what you do. You save everyone.”

Boromir felt all the chaos and clamour in his head go quiet then, and instead his mind was illuminated with clarity.

“Of course! That’s it! You’re a genius, brother!” he exclaimed, feeling renewed vigour surge through his veins. “I am Boromir of Gondor. Indeed! I’m Boromir. Boromir! I have to act like Boromir! I have to do what Boromir did!”

Faramir blinked and regarded Boromir with his mouth agape, but then understanding dawned on his face.

“You mean to destroy the Bridge! Like the Steward Boromir of old!” he gasped.

It was a somewhat obscure piece of Gondorian lore, the tale of Steward Boromir I, who had defended Osgiliath against the Witch King of Angmar in the year 2475, and gotten wounded by a Morgul Blade. Although Boromir I had ultimately prevailed, he had made the hard decision to let the ancient stone Bridge fall, and with it, the splendid Dome of Stars. In fact, the entire Osgiliath had been ruined in the aftermath of that war, but at least MInas Tirith had been saved, and the Shadow had retreated to lie dormant for the next centuries. Boromir and Faramir had first heard this tale together, during one of their many history lessons in the Archives, supervised by their tutors and by the Steward himself.

“Think about it! ‘Tis our only chance!” Boromir explained frantically. “If they cannot pass through the Bridge, they cannot dismantle the barricades on the fords. We could retreat to the Western Bank and easily drive them away with archers. And then defend the fords for yet many months to come!”

Faramir looked only partially convinced.

“But the Bridge is made of solid timber,” he reasoned. We cannot dismantle it on time! And to burn it would take days.”

Boromir stood and started pacing the storage room, thinking and planning out loud, only half listening to his brother.

“The Bridge is supported by wooden beams,” he said. “If our pioneers start working on them now, they can be destroyed till noon, and then the Bridge will collapse into the Great River.”

“We do not have till noon, Boromir,” Faramir shook his head.

“Our soldiers must hold off the Haradrim,” Boromir said. There was no stopping him now. “I will lead them, and buy the men enough time.”

“It will be a bloodbath!” Faramir cautioned.

“Aye,” Boromir agreed. “We will pay with blood, but the day will be ours in the end,” he said, as he stepped out of the storage building. “Huor, to me! Everyone to me!” he bellowed at his lieutenants, who were still on the battlements, commanding the defence. They hastened to meet him upon hearing his call, but Boromir was already dictating orders to his Squire. “Now lad, you wanted to be of help, and you’ll get your wish. I’ve an important task for you! You will cross to the west side and find Master Zbylut. Tell him to wait for me on the riverbank near the Bridge, with two scores of his strongest pioneers, with axes, saws and hammers. The bigger the better!”

“Aye, Sir!” Huor smiled and saluted, infected with Boromir’s enthusiasm.

“Now, Huor, make no mistake! Once this duty is done, you are to go to Causeway Forts with our supply wagons. No tarrying this time! Is that clear?” Boromir emphasised. He would not have Huor’s death on his conscience. He could not look Hurin in the eyes if he did, as Huor was the Warden of the Keys’s only heir.

“Aye, Sir! I’ll go now, Sir!” he replied, and ran off with such energy that only the youth could muster, raising dust behind him.

“What is this commotion,” Angbor demanded, as he, Derufin, Aglahad and Hirgon trotted to where Boromir and Faramir were standing on the Courtyard of the Eastern Gate.

“Good tidings!” Boromir proclaimed. “The day may yet be saved. We are going to collapse the Bridge!” Here Boromir made a pause, to allow for the gasps and muffled curses of his surprised companions. “Yes, yes, shocking. But I’ve thought about it, and it’s the only way. How much time do we have?”

“They are not yet here, but approaching, Sir!” Hirgon reported. “I estimate the Haradrim will be upon us in about half an hour!”

“Good!” said Boromir, with more apparent bravado than he himself was feeling. But he had to buoy the men up for this plan to work. “Angbor! You have done an admirable job with our defence thus far. Think you the men can keep it up?”

“Aye! The 2nd Company will stand! I trained no cowards!” Angbor proclaimed proudly.

“Excellent!” Said Boromir. “You will receive reinforcements from the 1st Company. You will try to hold them outside for as long as you can. Groups of them are bound to get through, but pay them no heed and remain on the battlements with your men.”

“Aye, Captain-General!” Angbor saluted.

“Now for the light infantry,” Boromir continued. “Aglahad, station the pikemen just inside the gates and the breaches in the outer wall. Let them be the first to greet our friends from Mordor,” Boromir smirked viciously and Aglahad nodded. “I’ve heard that a spear to the throat means well met in Black Speech. Hirgon, lead your skirmishers to the Eastern Bank, and hide them in groups amongst the ruins. When enemy squadrons breach the outer wall, I want them engaged in fighting on the streets, away from the Bridge for as long as possible. Build a barricade on the Main Street if you have to.”

“Aye, Sir!” The old warrior Hirgon rubbed his hands with glee. “We will lure them into the narrow passages. They won’t know what hit them.” Hirgon was the best suited for this job, since the men knew and trusted him. He could navigate the labyrinth that was the crumbling City of Osgiliath.

“That’s the spirit!” Boromir commended. “Derufin,” he addressed his friend in turn, “single out your best marksmen. I want them on the Western Bridgetowers, covering the evacuation. Before the Bridge collapses, we will be retreating steadily, and we’ll get out as many as we can to the Western Bank. Know that defending the Bridge will be tricky; your archers will have to sift friend from foe and aim true.” Boromir looked straight in Derufin’s eyes to make sure the Captain understood the situation. Holding the Bridge would be crucial.

“Aye, Sir! From the Western Bank’s watchtowers my marksmen will have their pickings of anyone who attempts crossing,” Derufin assured him.

“Yes, that is our plan exactly!” said Boromir, glad they had an understanding. “The rest of your shortbows you will station on the roofs on the Eastern side, to aid the infantry. And the longbowmen will man the wall and fire at the enemy troops outside.”

When all of his lieutenants mumbled their assent, the men stood in silence for a few short moments, pondering the magnitude of what they were about to attempt. So many things could go wrong in this plan. But thinking about what could go wrong would accomplish nothing at this point. They had to do it or die trying.

Boromir addressed his brother again, then.

“Faramir, I want your Rangers guarding the Bridge and the working pioneers. When the Bridge collapses, friend and foe alike might fall into the River. Some may be injured during the fall. I want your men to finish off the enemy warriors, and fish out any survivors on our side. The Rangers are best suited to such tasks.”

“Indeed,” said Faramir. “My man Damrod will see it done.”

“What? You will not lead them?” Boromir was surprised. His brother was well known across Gondor for the close bond of comaraderie he shared with the Rangers under his command. And, Boromir was hoping that by assigning his brother a task on the Western Bank he could keep him out of harm’s way.

“And leave you to fend for yourself, and likely get yourself killed by risking your neck stupidly?” Faramir asked. “I think not.”

“Aye,” said Derufin. “I’m coming with you, too. When you feel an arrow graze your ear and strike through your enemy’s pupil, it will be me having your back.”

“Very well, then,” Boromir agreed with a sigh. “But first we must go to the Eastern Side and give orders to the troops, while Angbor holds the gate.”

With that, Boromir and his officers were off, leaving the Lamedonian in charge of the heavy infantry on the barricades. As they jogged along the Main Street to reach the Bridge, Boromir once again addressed Faramir.

“Brother, and where is Baron Hallas?” he asked.

Faramir raised his brows.

“You ordered him to lead his men and my Rangers to safety, and so that is what he did,” Faramir reported. “When we returned to the City, I left my horse with them and went to meet you, but Hallas rode off through the Bridge. They are like to be with the horses at the stables, now.”

Boromir thought about his plans. The heavy cavalry would have to ditch the horses and the lances, and go back to the Western Side again with swords and shields. We’ll need every man on the defence line to give the pioneers more time with the Bridge, the thought. He decided then, that he would lead the Knights personally. It would be symbolic. The noble houses of Minas Tirith mounting one last defence of Osgiliath.

Once they crossed the Bridge, Boromir wasted no time to clue Master Zbylut and his pioneers in on the plan. The old master craftsman, who was in charge of the Gondorian division of pioneers: smiths, masons, and woodworkers, was already waiting on the riverbank, notified earlier by Huor.

“Where are your men?!” Boromir exclaimed. He’d specifically ordered Zbylut to bring a brigade of strong craftsmen and sufficient equipment.

“With permission, Lord General,” siad Zbylut, ever grumbly, “your Squire notified us of your plans. My men are already under the Bridge, setting up scaffoldings. The water around here is too deep to work without any levelling.”

“Good! Good that you’ve not delayed the work,” Bromir said, relieved. He trotted a few paces and crouched to see under the bridge better. The workers were setting pre-made wooden frames and ladders around the Bridge’s supporting beams. “Zbylut, I am about to demand the near impossible from your craftsmen,” he said, as he looked again at the old Master. Zbylut was currently the oldest member of Gondor’s army, completely bald with white beard that he kept short. “I want you to weaken the beams so that they barely hold, and then, on my signal, I want the whole bridge to fall in one swoop. Think you that could be arranged?” Boromir asked, worriedly. When Zbylut said nothing for a longer while, Boromir grew anxious. “I know it’s a lot, but I want to make sure we rescue as many men as we can, and only once Enemy troops start crossing the Bridge do we want it to collapse.”

Zbylut waved his hand impatiently.

“Aye, Aye, Lord General, I hear you!” he grumbled. “I’m thinking. I cannot guarantee it, but we could attempt it. But we’ll need horses. We could weaken the beams in a few places, and then girdle them with ropes attached to the horses. Then once you give the signal, the horses will start and tug at the beams, break and topple them. It’s risky and there is no assurance the Bridge will fall when you mean it too. I only hope it won’t break prematurely and bury my workers.”

“Do not think I don’t appreciate what you’re doing here, Zbylut,” said Boromir. “If we get out of here alive, you’ll be hailed as heroes of this battle.”

Zbylut laughed.

“That would be a first, Lord! My men are used to working backstage,” he chuckled. “But they will appreciate a few casks of ale once the job is done.”

“Aye, you’ll get that. And the horses,” said Boromir. “I’ll go to get them now.”

“Wait, General, Sir!” Zbylut halted Boromir, who was about to leave in search of the Knights. “What will be the signal to collapse the Bridge?” he asked. Boromir thought. He planned to be fighting on the front line. The warriors on the eastern side could very well get overwhelmed. If the Enemy passed their defences and got to the Bridge, they would have to collapse it no matter who was left on the Eastern Bank. The marauders and the last line defenders would have to be sacrificed. And he needed some means to give the order no matter where he was on the battlefield at any given moment…

“The Horn,” he said to Zbylut simply. “Listen for the Horn of Gondor.”

With that, Boromir left the pioneers to their fate and directed his steps towards the Western Gate and its nearby stables. It was unfortunate that, due to his original strategy of making the entire City their battleground, he had to cross the entire length of old Osgiliath to gather all of his dispersed men, but it could not be helped. He needed his knights. All around him, the men were abandoning their earlier post and gathering under the command of Aglahad and Hirgon.

Fate had it that he did not have to go all the way to the Western gate to fetch the Knights. No sooner than he’d made it to hundred yards along Main Street, did they emerge from behind a turn, armed with broadswords and shields. Their march in full plate generated much clamour, and Boromir smiled at their sight. They were exactly what he needed. An elite team of a dozen or so noble Men of Gondor, armed to their teeth. Baron Hallas led them, brandishing a drawn longsword that was almost taller than he.

“Captain-General! Hail!” Hallas greeted. “We have delivered the Rangers and our horses to safety, as you commanded.”

“Aye! That was a well done sally, if I ever saw one, Hallas!” Boromir agreed.

“And now we are marching on to our death,” said Hallas cheerfully. “We’ve seen the Southrons. It’ll be an honour to die under your command, Lord Boromir. We’ll take as many foes with us as the Valar permit!”

“Do not be so eager to die, Hallas,” said Boromir, wincing inwardly. An hour ago he’d had a similar talk with Derufin, only then he'd been the one ready to meet his end. “We may yet get away with our necks intact. I mean to evacuate the Western Bank and destroy the Bridge before the Southrons can cross.”

Hallas uttered a colourful curse.

“You’re a clever one, General,” he chuckled. “Bordering on insane, but clever.” Boromir grimaced. Hallas was known for his sharp tongue, even towards his superiors. He let the remark slide and instead addressed the Knights. They were mostly sons of Gondorian nobility, some heirs, some spares, and some landless, who dedicated their time and skill to the service of the Steward. They were Boromir’s, he knew all of them by name, and could now recognize them by the colours and banners on their surcoats and cloaks. He knew their parents, their wives and their children. But it would have taken take too long to address each of them personally, so he spoke out loudly to the entire company.

“Hark ye! We are the noble Men of Gondor!” Boromir bellowed for everyone to hear. “We have led our men here to fight for our Homeland, and ours is the duty now to protect them! We will not abandon our soldiers to the Enemy! We are true Knights! We march East and we do not rest until the last of our men is delivered to safety! Who is with me?”

Loud cheers and voices of assent answered him, not only from the Knights but also from other men at arms gathering around on the Main Street. Boromir reached out and signalled two young men from the 3rd Company. He did not know them by names, but they certainly knew him, because they saluted instantly.

“Men, I entrust you with a special task. Go back to the stables and lead all the horses to the Bridge, to Master Zbylut. Do not stop until all of the horses are at the riverbank. You mustn't fail me” he ordered, before turning once again to the Knights. “Right! Now, we FIGHT! GONDOR!” he called, as he unsheathed his broadsword and started running towards the Bridge.

The Knights at his back did the same, and soon their whole team was crossing the Bridge, chanting Gondor! Gondor! From the corner of his eye, Boromir saw Zbylut saluting, and he knew that the team of pioneers was already working on the beams under the Bridge. Hurry up, lads! he thought. Everything depends upon you. We’re just off to buy you some precious time!

As they crossed the Bridge and entered the Eastern Bank, Boromir could see that the first mixed bands of both Haradrim and orcs had already breached the City’s outer defences. Hirgon’s men were fighting on the streets, and arrows were flying in all directions.

Boromir uttered a war cry and dived into the nearest narrow ruined street, joining the skirmish. Other Knights followed in his steps, reinforcing Hirgon’s small fighting teams. A knight in full plate on the field of battle was no small thing. The armour was heavy, expensive and constricted movement, but it also meant the warrior inside it could take heavy punishment during the assault. And Boromir knew how to take a beating. He would engage the orcs, shielding himself and the nearby men-at-arms from their blows, while the pikemen would skewer the foes from the flank. Occasionally Boromir would execute a flashy move with his broadsword, usually felling a foe or two and earning a cheer from the soldiers.

Slowly the company of Knights fought their way further and further East, though the number of enemies did not seem to lessen. More and more Haradrim were coming through. Boromir wasn’t particularly experienced with the Southrons, that would be Faramir’s province. Their fighting style was distinct from western sword art. They relied neither on strength, nor quickness of movement, but rather on precisely learned and exercised technique. They seemed to be able to parry each of his blows with little effort and without any hurry. Moreover, they came equipped with long, viciously sharp stilettos, that they would use mercilessly on armoured knights, whenever occasion arose. Boromir witnessed two of Hallas’ knights, Ciryon, and later young Hador of Halifirien, fall in the battle from well measured thrusts of such daggers - the Haradrim struck between the plates of the armour or aimed for the neck. Gondor’s finest slashed open like cattle, he thought with terror.

Only after Boromir caught the gist of Haradrim battle choreography did the fighting become any easier. Unfortunately, with time more and more of them would come through, and keeping them away from the Bridge was becoming harder and harder. Boromir and the Knights managed to fight through the entire Eastern Side, and now were approaching the Courtyard of the Eastern Gate, where the skirmish was particularly frantic.

Soon Boromir found himself having to engage with several foes at once. A quick look around confirmed that the other knights were getting similarly overwhelmed. Moreover, Boromir was starting to feel something of that feeling of hopelessness and bone-chilling anxiety, which Faramir had mentioned earlier. Is this some enemy’s magic? Or am I getting mad? He looked around. Other men under his command seemed to be faring no better, judging by their pale, sunken faces, and increasingly sluggish movements. Mayhaps we are all of us simply tired, he tried to reason with himself, but the sense of foreboding remained with him, sapping his strength. It felt like hours since he had joined the fighting.

Boromir was parrying well-measured slashes of steel delivered by two Southern fighters, and had the morose thoughts additionally occupying his attention, so when another enemy came for his head from his right flank, he noticed it too late. He saw the blade being raised, saw the Harad Man prepare the strike, but knew immediately he wouldn't be able to parry it on time. He prepared to take the blow, hoping it wouldn’t be fatal... but then the enemy jerked and fell, an arrow with green fletching sticking from his neck. The other two Haradrim uttered cries of shock seeing their comrade collapse, and another arrow went through the open mouth of one of them, killing him instantly. Boromir had the presence of mind to use the moment of confusion and slash open the third Southerner with his sword.

Having a momentary respite from oncoming attacks, he looked around to spy Derufin, and sure enough, his friend jumped off the nearby half-collapsed building.

“That was a close call! My reflexes are dulling,” he called out to the archer, raising his shield to catch an orcish arrow aimed at his heart. “Many thanks for saving my neck.”

“Do not thank me yet,” Derufin called back. “You’re not going to like this!” He then made a brief pause to fire another arrow at one of the orcs who were pestering Baron Hallas a few paces to the left. “The Haradrim are assaulting the Eastern Gate. They have some sort of a ramming device. We need to commence the retreat!”

“We don’t know if Zbytlut’s Men are ready!” This was a tough choice. If he tarried with the evacuation, the men would be slaughtered. It was only a matter of time, because they didn’t have enough force to face the army, sooner or later they’d be overwhelmed. On the other hand, if he signalled retreat too early, then Mordor’s fighters would follow them uninterrupted. If enough passed the Bridge, they could bring the fighting to the other side and threaten the entire plan.

“We need to at least pull back Angbor’s men off the battlements! The outer wall is lost as is!” Derufin cried. To that Boromir had to agree. There was no sense in manning the wall if the Gate was about to be rammed open.

They both looked to the battlement above the Gate, where Angbor was running frantically and bellowing commands. With a start, Boromir noticed that the Lamedonian was wounded - a short arrow was sticking from his arm, although he seemed to be paying it no mind. Boromir knew this kind of battle frenzy well. It made one numb to all injuries, which could lead to fatal mistakes.

“I’ll get his attention,” said Derufin and fired before Boromir could react. An arrow with green fletching embedded itself in a wooden beam that was supporting the parapet, mere inches from Angbor’s shoulder. The warrior looked to the direction the arrow was fired from, and spotted Boromir and Derufin. Boromir gave the signal then, and the first phase of their retreat began.

When the heavy infantry and longbowmen came down from the walls and joined the commotion on the courtyard, Boromir called out to Angbor and the nearest fighters.

“The Knights will hold the line! The rest of you get behind and start retreating! Steady! In order! But keep up the fighting!” He knew other officers would pass the command. He had to focus on holding the line, to give others a chance at retreat.

“Keep that shield up like we practised,” Derufin’s voice came from behind Boromir’s back. Next thing Boromir heard was a whistle of an arrow next to his ear. They would sometimes fight like this, in a well coordinated duo; Boromir would be shielding the two of them and hacking at any foes closing in, and Derufin would be firing from behind Boromir’s back, keeping the enemies at bay. One of these days he’ll put an arrow through my skull, Boromir thought with amusement. He hoped it wouldn’t be this day, because he still had work to do.

The Knights listened to Boromir’s command and aligned in a formation, serving as a barrier between the foes that were coming through the walls. As was, the way still wasn’t completely open to the Enemy, even when Angbor’s men retreated, because they still had to scale the walls and the barricades with their ladders. But that would soon change, when the Gate would be breached.

As if on command a horrible thunder shook the ground and the Gate trembled. It was made of reinforced timber, and barricaded from the inside with debris. Boromir wondered how long it would take to ram it open. Not long, judging from the loud cheering of orcs and Haradrim alike. They were waiting for the Gate to give way, and it would happen soon.

“We’re backing away from the Gate!” Boromir bellowed to the rest of the Knights. “Keep up the fight!”

Slowly, facing the East, they made their retreat towards the Bridge. Boromir had no time to turn back and check how the evacuation was going, but he hoped Angbor had it under control.

Another thunderous ram ripped the air. Boromir’s ears ached as he saw the debris barricading the Gate from the inside move a little under the impact. New vigour seemed to surge into the Haradrim. Buoyed by the battering ram’s sounds they attacked the line of Knights with double force, thrusting viciously with their stilettos. Boromir saw three more Knights fall. Farewell brothers ! Arthael of Minas Tirith , Milancar the Younger, and Hirgon the Red Face, Boromir spared a moment to remember their names, momentarily overcome with grief and terror. And he would have joined them very nearly; a Southern stiletto was about to collide with his neck, but another short blade that deflected its course.

“Hello, brother” Faramir panted. “Hogging all the glory to yourself once again?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” Boromir replied, as he regained his bearings and started parrying the Southron’s frantic blows with his shield.

Faramir lunged from behind Boromir’s back and slashed the Southron’s stomach open with hisblade. This was Faramir’s preferred style during combat, one he’s learned among the Rangers: he wielded dual short swords, moved quietly and defended himself with evasion. The Southrons, who preferred light armour to heavy plate, were easy targets for his blades.

“I bring good tidings,” Faramir grunted in between his strikes. “Work under the Bridge is done.”

Boromir smiled viciously. The fight was almost over.

“This is our last stand, then, brother,” he said to Faramir, and then he shouted commands to his men. “Companies! Abandon fight and run! Save yourselves!” He heard Angbor echo his command behind his back. “Knights! Tighten the line! We hold them off as long as we can! Retreat steadily!”

Boromir felt his muscles burn with exertion, as he pushed himself to his limits. From the corner of his eye he saw another of the Knights, Ser Rennor, fall from a dagger to his neck. There remained a couple dozens of yards between them and the Bridge. Their men were running to the other side. The Knights were holding off the Haradrim horde, retreating slowly, but also dying under Southern blades one by one. To his left, Paranion of Lamedon, Angbor’s compatriot, fell from an arrow through his eye, and a group of Southrons ran over his body, giving chase to the retreating troops. Whatever foe breached their line, Boromir hoped would be stopped by Derufin’s archers patrolling the Bridge. To his right, he saw Ser Angbor join their last stand.

“The men are safe! It’s time we passed the Bridge ourselves!” Angbor shouted. They were almost upon the Bridge, but they had to keep up the fight, for fear the Enemy would pursue and strike at their backs if they turned away and ran.

“Hallas! No!” Faramir cried, and Boromir saw the Baron topple to the ground. Only three other Knights, beside Boromir, Faramir, Derufin and Angbor remained standing and holding the front line. They were slashing their swords and ramming their shields like madmen, to keep the Haradrim front at bay. Backing away slowly they reached the Bridge at last. Boromir saw another Knight, Ser Seidon fall, in the same moment as he felt an arrow pierce his thigh. He cursed, but kept his balance. The wound hurt like the fires of Angband.

Now would come the tricky part. They had to retreat through the Bridge, while fighting, and only signal Zbylut once they reached the other side, hoping that the horde of the Enemy would fall with the Bridge.

KABOOOOOOOOOM!

Boromir looked up and saw his fears confirmed in the distance: the Eastern Gate’s wings were rammed wide open. But then something unexpected happened. The Southrons ceased their assault and their horde parted to the sides, leaving a clear passage. Boromir and his comrades were left alone, in the middle of the Bridge.

Suddenly, seemingly out of thin air and shadow, a blood-chilling vision materialised before him.

Nine black horses with frothing mouths and eyes of red madness. And upon them Nine Riders in black hooded capes, their bodies seemingly made of foul shadows. The Riders were charging at them from the Gate with insane speed.

Boromir knew he had to move, but he found himself paralyzed with fear. The sheer hopelessness and terror that the Riders awakened in his heart… He’s never felt like that in his life. In that moment he fully comprehended the enemy’s might. Mordor had the power to smother all hope, and that, to Boromir, seemed worse than all the Haradrim armies in the world. There was no chance for Gondor, no matter the outcome of this battle, his country was lost. The Enemy would prevail.

Then he heard his brother’s fearful sob, and that sound sobered him a little. It was ever his most important task to keep his brother out of harm’s way, and this time was no different. Even if everything else was lost, Faramir was still breathing. The Riders would reach the Bridge in a few moments, and he had to use those moments well, for Faramir’s sake. He dropped his sword and shield, inhaled frantically, and blew the Horn of Gondor with all the might left in his lungs. Whips snapped loudly, Zbylut’s horses moved at once and Boromir felt the entire Bridge shift and shake, in the very same moment that the Riders reached it at last. Boromir did the only thing he could think of: he pushed Derufin over the Bridge’s railing, grabbed Faramir’s arm and jumped.

His stomach made a salto as he fell a dozen feet and hit the water. He felt more than saw the Bridge collapse into the River, and the resulting wave of water slammed into his body and submerged him. He didn’t know if the Black Riders made it through or not. He lost his grip on Faramir, too. Valar, let my little brother be safe, he prayed, as he fought to reach the water’s surface.

Then he felt something heavy hit his head and the world went black.

To be (likely) continued...

Header image gifted by @quillofspirit. Thank you! <3

#lotr #lotr fanfiction #lord of the rings fanfiction #boromir fanfiction #boromir #faramir #derufin of morthond #angbor of lamedon #osgiliath #osgiliath bridge #defense of osgiliath #ass deep in demons #[arda]#[wandering birds]

37 notes · View notes

http-paprika · 4 months

Text

The Masterlist

A Guide to My Writings, Series, and Drabbles

Key: 🤍 - Fan Favorite / 🩶 - My Favorite

⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆

SIMON RILEY

Oneshots

Misheard / Fear / Labyrinth / Pulling Teeth 🩶/ Losing Dogs / In With the Rain / Noise 🤍 / Relief / Heaven

ivy and iron thorns / a series

series masterlist / ongoing / medieval au 🤍🩶

guilt / a mini-series

Part One; Guilt / Part Two; Shame

together, inhospitable / a series

series masterlist / discontinued

what’s left / a mini-series

Part One; What’s Left / Part Two; What’s Lost

drabbles

headcannons / surprise

⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆

PHILLIP GRAVES

one-shots

under the orange sky 🩶🤍

drabbles:

50 word challenge / valentine’s day special

bite the hand / a series

series masterlist / ongoing / 🩶🤍

⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆

JOHN MACTAVISH

one-shots

birthday wishes / winning numbers

drabbles

captain mactavish drabble

⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆

JOHN PRICE

one-shots

the deal

drabbles

my girl

⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆

ALEJANDRO VARGAS

one-shots

peppers

⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆

ALEX KELLER

one-shots

all-american bitch / gold rush 🩶

⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆ ════ ⋆★⋆

TASK FORCE 141

headcannons

small town!au / dating app profiles

miscellaneous

tf141 (& others) as mitski songs

TO BE CONTINUED…

#call of duty #call of duty mw2 #call of duty mw3 #cod mw22 #cod mwiii #cod mw23 #fanfic #fanfic masterlist #simon ghost riley x reader #phillip graves x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #captain john price x reader #alejandro x reader #alex keller x reader #cod headcanons

24 notes · View notes

acircusfullofdemons · 22 days

Text

ETERNAL LABYRINTH: AN INTRODUCTION

It is, officially, the 7 year anniversary of when I made Eternal Labyrinth. Yippee! So, to celebrate, here's a hopefully coherent introduction to the shit that's taken over my life for. seven goddamn years holy shit.

Eternal Labyrinth is the overarching name for my main 3 paracosms: Phantasmagoria, Mad as a Crow, Fractured Fables. They are all connected thanks to Multiverse Bullshit! The 3 also have AUs that are semi-canon, in which they have crossovers and the characters interact with each other. The AUs are: the Mad Rabbit AU (MaaC/FF), the Tamagotchi AU (Phantasmagoria/FF), and Constellations (Phantasmagoria/MaaC).

A quick rundown of what each paracosm is about:

Phantasmagoria: VRVerse || Major oddcore/weirdcore/dreamcore vibes, literally almost anything can happen. Behaves like a video game most of the time, I suppose.

Mad as a Crow: Superhero Universe || A terrible DC/Marvel crossover that’s trying to have one coherent storyline with consistent characters.

Fractured Fables: FairytaleVerse || Fanfiction I don't feel guilty for writing because all of the source material is in the public domain. Quite literally my city now.

You can find me talking about each paracosm on these blogs:

For Phantasmagoria only content, go to @acircusfullofdemons.

For Mad as a Crow only content, go to @madasacrow.

For Fractured Fables only content, go to @fractured-fables.

Each paracosm exists inside each other, if that makes sense?? It’s kind of like the Nickelodeon Sitcom Universe. They are both real events and also taking place on a reality show at the same time.

Phantasmagoria is a video game, Polybius, that can be played at JoyHall Arcade.

Mad as a Crow is a comic book series/company, Mad Crow Comics (similar to DC or Marvel).

Fractured Fables is a tv show, Toybox Tutors, aimed towards children.

When doing crossovers, the general vibe is “oh hey, this is like that [media] I like, just slightly to the left”. The only exception is for things like the APOCALYPSE AU, where the ‘cosm they’re from doesn’t really matter as they’re all put in a Situation.

WORLDS & DIMENSIONS

HUBS

The (Dimensional) Hub — All dimensions are tied together due to “The Hub”, aka Earth I. The Hub is an endless void that often takes the form of an empty arcade or mall. Each dimension also has its own unique door and key.

Player Hub — A mini version of the Dimensional Hub, except now it’s suited for a singular person. Everyone that has played Polybius has one.

DIMENSIONS

Holius — Space, primary home to Aliens.

Heaven — Primary home to Angles, mirror of the Netherworld.

Earth I — The original earth. Used to be full of animals before Vitalis added humans.

Earth II — Thisverse/our earth, no magic or supernatural creatures. Mirror of Arcadia.

Earth III — The apocalypse, technical ‘sequel’ to Earth II.

Earth IV — Magic exists, but only in specific locations. Supernatural beings also exist in secret.

Arcadia — Supernatural beings are the majority. Mirror of Earth II.

StoryBrooke — Where various fairytale & classic lit characters live.

Avalon — Fae realm.

Cyberspace — Dimension made by Genesi H. Voltrian. Only Computer Errors can enter.

Mirje — Dimension made by Myriam Travers/Bloody Mary. Only Spirits can enter.

Netherworld — Primary home to Demons. Mirror of Heaven.

Afterlife — Specifically the Arcadian afterlife. Primary home to Spirits.

The VoiD — A pocket dimension that people can clip into on accident, basically the Backrooms. Often used for storing unwanted stuff/trash.

SPECIES

Aliens —Extraterrestrial/celestial beings.

Aquaentians — Aquatic supernatural creatures.

Computer Errors — Sentient Errors that spawn within Cyberspace. They can only be created if an existing CE kills you AND takes your Soul into Cyberspace — the process won't work otherwise. Because of this, some may see them as a subtype of Spirit, though as they're still relatively new classification is still being debated. Their appearance is very upsetting, often giving people headaches, and they make circuit-like markings under their eyes / neck / shoulders.

Dragons — A now extinct species.

Gods — So, this one brings up the concept of religion in Arcadia as the Gods are a part of their own pantheon and such, but that's not really related to this topic. They are omnipotent & omniscient in their specific domain (ie; the god of nature knows everything about nature, but very little about space). Gods can be either born or given their powers from another God.

Onerioi — Personified dreams & nightmares.

Puria— Angels, Demons, & Faed.

Humans

Avians — Humans with wings.

Cambions — Hybrid between Human & Demon.

Dhampir — Hybrid between Human & Vampire.

Elementalists — Humans that can control an element.

Empaths — Humans that can control an emotion.

Halflings — Humans that can turn into animals, basically werewolves / werecats / shapeshifters.

Regular / Purebloods — Humans with 0 magical ability or Zaryis DNA.

Seers — Humans that can see Spirits.

Witches — An old term used to refer to a Human that uses magic. By now this is the standard / expectation.

Reapers — Zaryis that takes Souls to the Afterlife.

Grim Reapers — Reapers that take anyone.

Ritions — Reapers that take those who died of famine.

Valkin — Reapers that take those who died in battle.

Pestis — Reapers that take those who died of sickness.

Spirits

Ghosts

Poltergeists

LORE

I’m gonna…try and keep this brief, but y’know. I’ve had this for about 7ish years so it’s kind of a Mess.

ORIGINS — Everything on Earth I was fine and chill until Vitalis (God of Life) introduced Humans. After some conflict between the Humans and Sentient Animals that previously lived there, a pair of twins get separated from one another. Theia (Goddess of Death) and Vitalis take in a twin each: Theia with Shadow, and Vitalis with Lumi. Ketrill (King of Shadows/Darkness) & Eloise (Queen of Light) are also made by the Gods, in order to protect the twins. Ketrill cares for Shadow, while Eloise cares for Lumi. Each twin is cared for by their patron until they almost die. Shadow is revived and Lumi is made immortal. The twins manage to reunite, and all is well until Vitalis grows jealous of their friendship, because he and Theia can’t really be together. So, he sets out to kill the twins. With Emory’s (The Librarian/God of Knowledge) help, Theia, the twins, Ketrill, and Eloise manage to escape Earth I. Unfortunately, they all get separated.

CROSSFIRE — Shadow, now named Nox, winds up on Earth II. His memories have gotten wiped, forgetting about his supernatural origins, and lives a normal life until Emory finally finds him, where he’s then taken to Earth IV while Emory searches for the rest of their little family. While there, Nox meets Jake, an Angel shoved into a Human body as an experiment of sorts. The two team up to unravel the mess of supernatural shit going on.

FAUX PIXIES — Lumi, now Lucien, and Eloise, wind up in Neverland together with their memories intact. They live as Fairies in Pixie Hollow, with Lucien longing for her twin, wondering if he even made it out alive. Despite her oncoming depression, Lucien befriends Captain Hook, and helps him ward off Peter Pan from time to time. After helping Wendy attempt to get her brothers back, Lucien discovers that Fifi (Goddess of Time) has trapped StoryBrooke in a time loop thanks to a deal she made with Blake Grimm. Unfortunately, Lucien doesn't have the power to stop her. So the loop keeps going and she's kinda scared her & Eloise will get stuck in it and lose their memories.

REUNION — Thankfully, the two wind up reuniting with Emory after arriving in StoryBrooke. He takes them back to Earth IV, where Nox is. While Emory was away, Nox had managed to get most of their memories of Earth I back. He also reunited with Ketrill! After Emory gets Theia from Arcadia, the gang's all back together and helps Nox piece a few more things together. Of course, there’s still the problem of Vitalis, who’s been mainly focused on Nox but now that they’re all together? Yeah he’s not gonna be happy.

THE FIGHT — The twins get the idea to take the fight to Vitalis. Theia tries to advise against them, but basically everyone agrees that he needs to be stopped sooner than later. The only problem is, how do you kill Life himself? The answer: with Death herself! Though Nox and Lucien did most of the fighting against Vitalis — with Ketrill & Eloise’s help — Theia is the one to land the final blow. Her and Vitalis exchange some words, he basically apologizes and explains he just wanted to be with her, but clearly he did it all wrong. Theia extracts his soul/essence and becomes the Goddess of both life and Death. Earth I, and the rest of the multiverse, can finally know peace. Kind of.

CURRENT — Upon Vitalis' death, Nox and Lucien are granted godhood, with Nox becoming Entropy — god of chaos — and Lucien becoming Harmony — goddess of order. As Harmony, Lucien now has the power to order Fifi to stop the time loop in StoryBrooke, which she finally does. Still concerned over StoryBrooke, Harmony asks her family to help keep everything, well, harmonious. Without the time loops, then the Fables will have children and more Tales will take place. Given that she used to be Tinkerbell, this is a valid concern for her. Emory, too, as he was Cheshire. Not wanting his role anymore, he gives it to Entropy, who is ecstatic to be one of their favorite literary characters. Harmony, meanwhile, decides to settle into Neverland, so she can keep an eye on Peter Pan and help any other Lost Kids who wind up there.

tldr: life & death get a divorce and have a custody battle so bad it becomes the entire multiverse's problem

And that’s it! I guess. I know that doesn’t seem like much, but y’know. Side-stories and multiple other paras that don’t have anything to do with the actual plot … well, this is all technically going on in the background of all my other paracosms. so. really, THIS has nothing to do with the plot lmao.

#paraportal #system: eternal labyrinth #console: phantasmagoria #console: mad as a crow #console: fractured fables #luka.txt #paracosm intro

11 notes · View notes

taintedcigs · 3 months

Note

labyrinth sounds super sweet 🥹 do you per chance have a snippet you might be willing to share with a poor commoner such as myself? 🙏🏼

oh you sweet lil angel OF COUUUURSE!! i actually was gonna make that a little mini-series buuuut i have decided to make it a oneshot (probably a very long one, wooops), i still don't know what direction it will take but it has a stupid meetcute ? i keep gushing abt <33

it's basically steve being fully pessimistic abt love, after many failed dates robin tried to set him up on. and JUST when he thinks he lost all hope, you swarm into family video, making a little offer steve can't refuse <3

its still a very VERY rough draft but snippet under the cut that might be a teeny tiny long <3

Robin, leaning against the counter with an air of annoyance, “Already turning into a miserable old man I see?” She quipped, a playful glint sparkling in her bold icy gaze.

With a roll of his eyes, Steve chose to ignore her jests, fingertips grazing against the tape in his hand before he pushed it next to the others. “Anyway, I’m just saying I don’t want to do this whole love bullshit anymore, so, I can and will shut myself off,” he grumbled.

Miserable old man. Robin thought to herself. “Whatever you say,” she mumbled, conceding to his stubbornness.

“But,” She leaned further onto the counter with a sheepish smile, “you never know when true love is gonna find you!” Her attempt to inject a bit of optimism into Steve's newly cynical outlook fell deaf on his ears.

A bitter huff escaped from those otherwise sweet lips. “If it comes looking for me I’ll be here fixing the damn horror section, thanks to those idiotic kids!”

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head in disapproval before she went back down to counting the stocks, scribbling down some nonsense to avoid Steve.

“I swear if I ever see those little fuckers again—” Steve’s little rambling to himself was interrupted by you. Like a sudden burst of sunlight piercing through his gloomy clouds.

“Hi! Sorry for bothering but—” Such a soothing voice usually would've made him melt. But, with such bitterness filling his body, it only made Steve snap.

“What?” He asked, rather rudely, body jerking back with the annoyance of dealing with another customer. That was until he faced you, regret filling his skin faster than the caffeine still swimming in his veins.

“Oh—uh, sorry, didn’t mean to—” You muttered, startled by his semi-rudeness, yet once he saw you his demeanor, that stupid ice wall melted quicker than he built it up.

“No, shit, I’m sorry, I mean not shit— fuck, ah.” He rambled, embarrassed, a salmon pink color rushing to his cheeks, almost knocking over the trolley he was standing next to.

Thankfully, you let out a sweet giggle, saccharine, charming. “Don’t worry, I totally get that, the whole anger and cussing thing.”

“No, no, I swear I’m not like an angry person—” He tried to reassure, and you were quick to give him another smile, one he felt he didn't deserve.

“I get it. Customers aren’t always right, you know?” You gave him an understanding shrug, almost comforting him, and Steve felt that giddiness again, the one he thought he had fully lost.

He really was pathetic.

“Yeah,” he breathed.

“I just started working in that coffee shop down the street, and shit, indeed. These people can be mean,” you further related, and Steve couldn't help but get a better look at you—chocolate gaze getting caught onto the crescent moon necklace clasped around your neck, Levi’s jeans hugging your curves in the best way, and a graphic tee to pair it with. Effortlessly stunning.

Still out of breath, and attempting to seem collected, Steve managed to ask, “Merrill's?”

The worst coffee in town. The only coffee shop in Hawkins. Toilet water quality type of coffee, and always the stalest pastries. But, shit, if you were there, Steve was more than willing to chug a gallon of their coffee.

#em’s mail💌#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #wips

18 notes · View notes

thepaintedlady00 · 2 years

Text

The Sandman Oneshots Masterlist

🔥- Smut

🤭- Suggestive themes

Dream of the Endless

Dream x Reader: Reincarnation

Dream x Reader: Day of the Librarian

Dream x Siren!Reader

Dream x Reader: Let Me Show You

Dream x Human Reader: The Cursed Truth

Dream x Witch!Reader: Deity

Dream x Raven/Rachel Roth!Reader Headcanons

Angry Dream x Reader: Noise

Dream x Reader: Insecure 🔥

Dream x Kryptonian Reader

Dream x Reader: Dancing

Dream x Reader: Bad Day

Dream x Vampire!Reader: Blood

Dream x Reader: Cara mia

Dream x Reader: Vulnerable

Dream x Reader: Preformance

Dream x Reader: Vengeful

Dream x Reader: Skincare

Dream x Reader: Morning Cuddles

Dream x Reader & Daughter: Uncle Cori

Dream x Reader: Sick

Dream x Reader: Cadaver 🤭

Dream x Reader: Back to Back

Tom Sturridge x Reader: Lunch

Dream x Freyja!Reader: Our Son

Dream x Reader: You're Early

Jealous Dream x Reader: Favorite

Dream x Reader: Haunted House

Dream x Reader: Haunted Forest

Dream x Reader & Daughter: Over A Century Late

Dream x Reader: Forced Break Up

Dream x Reader: Dream A Little Dream of Me

Dream x Reader: The Whole World in My Hands

Dream x Reader: That Night They Dreamed of Her Face

Dream x Reader: Doubts

Dream x Immortal/GoddessReader: Bet

Dream x Reader: Safety

Dream x Reader: Family

Dream x Reader: Make Up

Dream x Reader: Summer Weather

Dream x Pregnant Reader: Kidnapped

Dream x Reader: Bullies

Protective!Dream x Reader: Bruises

Dream x Reader: Painted Nails

Dream x Reader: A Date in The Dreaming

Dream vs Movie Night Labyrinth (request/suggestion)

Dream x Reader: Loving An Endless (series oneshot request)

Dream x Penelope: The Happiest Place On Earth (series oneshot)

Multiple Part Oneshot Requests:

Dream x Reader: Make Out Session Part 1

Dream x Reader: Make Out Session Part 2

Dream x Reader: Confession Part 1

Dream x Reader: Confession Part 2

Dream x Reader: Dream vs Technology Part 1

Dream x Reader: Dream vs Technology Part 2

Dream x Daughter!Reader: Eye to Eye Part 1

Dream x Daughter!Reader: Eye to Eye Part 2

Dream x Elemental!Reader Part 1

Dream x Elemental!Reader Part 2

Dream x Wednesday Reader Part 1

To Catch a Fallen Star - Star!Dream x Reader Mini-series:

Tag List

Part 1

Part 2

Lord Meowpheus Requests:

Cat!Dream x Reader: Cat Couch

Cat!Dream x Reader: Fairest Cat of Them All

Cat!Dream x Reader: Sleep then Study

Cat!Dream x Reader: Cat Cuddles & Baby Snores

Cat!Dream x Reader: Rest

Dream x Reader: Cat Dream (Maine Coon Version)

Dream x Reader: Cat Dream (original)

Narcoleptic Reader Requests:

Dream x Narcoleptic Reader Part 1

Dream x Narcoleptic Reader Part 2

Dream x Narcoleptic Reader Part 3

Whitelighter Crossover Requests:

Dream x Whitelighter Reader Part 1: Yours Am I?

Dream x Whitelighter Reader Part 2: The Fishers, The Dragon and The Endless

Dream x Whitelighter Reader Part 3: Once Upon A Time

Dream x Whitelighter Reader Part 4: Hello Kids?

Desire of the Endless

Desire x Soul Bound: All She Desired (request)

Desire x Soul Bound: Bunny (request)

169 notes · View notes

basedkikuenjoyer · 8 months

Text

I wanted to take a brief pause after VII, just to talk about hallmarks of Dragon Quest as a series. Because we are leaving the era where these games are a driving force in developing the JRPG genre. Like...I know when I do the final ranking I'm going to put II much higher than most. Because I earnestly feel II is one of those very special games that developed so many things that became ubiquitous you take it for granted. This does not mean VIII, IX, and XI are bad by any stretch. I'd compare it to The Simpsons; your purpose has changed in a world full of imitators. What was revolutionary is not comforting and timeless.

Sadly this does mean we'll lose a few elements that didn't translate into the next generation. Eventually the designers behind the series started following norms competitors innovated. So before we go on to VIII and it's massive legacy, a few favorite hallmarks I didn't get to cover:

One of the most iconic features here since the first that's just as fun in XI. Metal Slimes. So many have tried this and none work as well as the original. Rare version of a weak enemy that nets massive experience. The catch? They're quick to flee and while they have only 3-4 HP their defense is maxed out. Enough you might do 1 damage on a hit. Then later games introduce different, stronger varieties. If you need to grind, the metal slime family always feels like a fun little mini-game to shorten it. And the developers are smart about where their hotspots are usually. If you see one in a new area, it's worth it to try and bag a few first pass.

Dungeon Philosophy. I hate this has fallen by the wayside in favor of following Final Fantasy's style. Early on, you had to approach dungeons like an old school D&D module. You're not doing it first try. It's all part of the fun baked into what happens on a loss. You just go back to the last King/Priest you saved at and lose half your money. The dungeons are designed around this, if it's a tower you can just hop off and go back to town. But you'll have to make a few runs at the labyrinth to figure everything out and learn the optimal path. Especially with...

Random encounters having some teeth to them. This has diminished over time but game design in general has gotten easier so I don't fault DQ for it. But in those early ones, yeah random encounters can be brutal. You need to consider spells like sleep or fog that'll spare you some hits cheaply. If you flee and fail you lose a turn like a lot of RPGs but not every monster will go so it's more viable sometimes. All together, simple but tight design. A dungeon in early Dragon Quest feels like a real challenge of balancing resources like MP. This is why I love III so much, the class system plus peak design philosophy makes everything work so well as a total package. Your party comp will determine which parts are hard or easy.

Decisions on equipment. This is subtle but very cool in practice. Unlike a lot of JRPGs, in these early Dragon Quest games you're going to have to grind a lot to get every new piece of equipment you can buy immediately. Which will feel even worse if something is rendered obsolete with a dungeon treasure. You're not expected to. When you first get to town you decide what felt like it needed to be bolstered the most, then go on and start taking on the dungeon expecting to need a few trips. When you're ready to leave, decide if you want to polish it off here or try your luck with a headstart on the next town. Later games have replaced this with a crafting element I like, so it's more of a lateral move.

#dragon quest #draconic musings

18 notes · View notes

the-common-cowgirl · 9 months

Text

It’s Only Forever, Not Long at All…

Chapter 1: Into the Labyrinth

Labyrinth AU Mini-Series. Each Chapter based on the chronological soundtrack of the cult classic film, Labyrinth (1986).

Goblin King!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Rating: Ch. 1 is General

Summary: Life at home is not fair, your only escape is your beloved fairytale novel, The Labyrinth. However, everything is about to change when you make a heat-of-the-moment mistake, causing you to strike an unfair deal with the one and only, Goblin King.

Warnings: teenage angst

Word Count: 2960

A/N: I know chapter 1 doesn’t delve too far from the original story, however, it’s pivotal for the remainder of the story so I kept it closely canon and will start separating in chapter 2.

Series Masterlist

Thunder rumbles distantly as you make your way across the park. The skies are gloomy overhead but you pay no attention. No, your mind isn’t stuck in the present. It dances to a realm where a handsome king holds you in his arms as you stare deeply into his eyes: in love. You clutch the fairytale novel, The Labyrinth, close to your home-made, hand sewn corset you made all by yourself after becoming infatuated with this book nearly four years ago. Now at eighteen, your childish obsession has somewhat taken over your life.

Your bedroom was covered in “Labyrinth” memorabilia. You had learned to sew garments that fit the fantasy world you pictured in your mind, creating an extensive array of different pieces. Your step-mother had a music box crafted for your sixteenth birthday, as a way of trying to grow closer to you. It was a miniature version of yourself in a big, white, puffy fantasy wedding gown and hair done up in pearls and beads in an intricate way. You loved that version of you in that music box so much that you had set out to remake the gown, it had taken two years but it was nearly finished and you couldn’t wait to put it on.

Your stepmother’s attempt at becoming friendly with you had worked, until it didn't. She had merely suggested one night recently that you should pursue a degree in fashion after you graduated since you loved sewing garments so much. The suggestion infuriated you, for she had been so close to understanding what fueled your passion for creating things, yet so far. You only created and learned to sew because of your love of reading, specifically your love of this book. How could she be so blind to not see that? That night a verbal fight had ensued between your step-mother, father and yourself. A fight so bad, your step-mother picked up your baby sister, you baby half-sister, and left the room.

The residual feelings of unease still lingered in the home, weeks after the fight. Which led to now, in the park, you reciting the main character’s words to the Goblin King and the air around you as a way to escape your home-life and reality, if only for a short while.

“Give me the child. Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City to take back the child that you have stolen. For my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom is great,” your mind trails off as you try to remember the next line.

“Ugh,” you groan and hit the book in your hand to your head, maybe a little too hard as it stings slightly “ I can never remember that line!” It’s true, you couldn’t, but you were also in the middle of trying to memorize the entire book so you should’ve given yourself more grace. You open the book to the page and passage in which you are trying to recite. Reading the words on the page aloud to yourself, “You have no power over me.”

As suddenly as you read the line, a large, snowy white owl swoops overhead, capturing your attention to the sky and a single raindrop falls onto your cheek as you head is cast upward to the rapidly darkening sky.

Which reminds you that you probably need to be back home by now. Your father had asked you to babysit your sister so he and your step-mother could go to a local fundraising gala and socialize the night away. The rain starts to come down harder now and you make your way back toward your home, running over the park’s bridge, right by the gazebo. Then when you reach the street, the clouds let loose and the downpour begins. You’re showered with water as you spring down the street, across a neighbor’s backyard and when you finally reach the back porch of your home that you found refuge from the wet in, you realize that not only are your garment’s soaked, so is your favorite book.

Grumbling angrily to yourself as you step into the house, past the kitchen and dining room and into the receiving room as you head up the stairs. Your self pity is stopped abruptly in your tracks as your stepmother calls from the bottom of the stairs, appearing from thin air.

“You’re late,” she called and you turned around halfway up the steps, “and you’re drenched!” She shrieks and turns to your father who is just out of sight, “Paul! Please explain to your daughter about punctuality and being presentable!” Her hair is in an updo as she puts on her earring. Her dress is a beautiful pale, satin pink; she’s the epitome of punctual and presentable.

Your father appears from the other room, “Y/N, you were not supposed to leave the house without our permission. Do you not remember that you're grounded?” His voice is stern but softer than your step-mother’s.

“I’m eighteen dad, you can’t ground me!” You stomp, childishly on the stair you’re standing on above them, water droplets falling with your action.

Your father brings up his pointer finger in warning, “As long as you live under my roof, I can still ground you. Now,” he raises his finger and points above you to the second floor, “Please take good care of Sarah tonight.”

“She’s already down for the night,” your step-mother adds as your father walks into the other room, “But if she wakes, just-”

“I know, I know,” you cut her off, “rock her to sleep and sing her her favorite songs and while I’m at it, why don’t I just give her my favorite things?” You raise your arms in a dramatic shrug.

Your step-mother sighs and grabs the baluster of the staircase, “Y/N, please do not disrespect me,” she says with a soft-sternness too familiar to you from her mouth; a plea. “I’m trying Y/N, but you’re making it,” you roll your eyes and start to walk further up the stairs, “so hard!” Her last two words are yelled to you as you go to your room, slam the door, and fall face-first onto your bed trying to drown out her yelling from downstairs.

They make you angry, both of them. They didn’t understand you or your interests. But, your father at least had the good sense not to bug you about what he didn’t understand; she didn’t. She’d constantly ask you about the book, about your projects, about the different characters, all to only ask once more, as if she didn’t store away information so important to you in her mind. You’d assumed if she truly wanted to know you, she’d make an effort. The nicest thing she had done was getting you that music box but even then, she made it more about your hobby of sewing than your passion for the fantasy element.

After some time, you heard the front door slam and that seemed to wake Sarah. You took a deep sigh, internally cursing them for waking your sister, half-sister. Pulling yourself from the bed, you made your way across the hall in the direction of the screaming to your father and step-mother’s room where Sarah had been sleeping. As you opened the door, the screaming intensified and you covered your ears as you approached the crying toddler in her pink-striped pajamas. You picked the toddler up as she continued to scream, not soothed by your presence in the slightest. You bounced her trying to sing against her wails, pacing around the room hap-hazardly as Sarah’s screams only seemed to worsen. As you passed her cradle for the third time, you recognized a stuffed animal she had been sleeping with to soothe her; your stuffed animal toy. The one your mother had given you when you were a baby.

Of course they’d give Sarah your things, she was your replacement with your father’s new wife. She was their precious girl, you were just a product of his last marriage to them, an inconvenience. You thought bitterly about how your step-mother wanted you out of the house, away at university and out of her hair and then she could play “perfect” family with her perfect daughter and no more. Just the three of them, the way it was meant to be.

And in that moment, all your anger seemed to snap.

You raised Sarah up in the air, still screaming and recited the fateful words, the words no one should say, yet…you did.

“I can bear no longer!” Tears streamed down Sarah’s face, “I wish, I wish…Goblin King! Goblin King! Wherever you may be, take this child of mine far away from me!” The wind rattled against the windows, making your heart skip a beat, wondering if somehow this chant had in fact, worked. But when you looked outside, you had just realized the sky was dark and the sun had set. You turn your attention back to Sarah as she continues to scream. “Ugh, Sarah,” you were impatient but now more relaxed as you let off steam. Laying her down, still crying, you grabbed the stuffed animal from her crib as she reached for it and walked back to your room briskly, to where it belonged. As you made your way across the hall, back toward the room Sarah was in, you heard her screaming abruptly stop. Your hand lingered above the handle of the door, wary as to why Sarah had stopped crying.

Opening the door, you called out, “Sarah?” Looking at her crib, you could see movements beneath the blanket but you couldn’t see her face. As you neared the crib, it moved sporadically, not in the way Sarah would move if she had fallen asleep. “Sarah?” You reached for the blanket to pull it from her face to make certain she was alright but the blanket moved again and you heard mischievous laughing from beneath. Your heartbeat quickened as you snatched the blanket from the crib to reveal nothing; Sarah was not there.

Behind you, you heard shuffling along the floor, then laughing as you turned, seeing a figure go underneath the queen bed skirt. Bending down in search of Sarah, you lifted the bed skirt to see nothing. “Sarah?” Your heart beat was quickening as you looked for your baby sister. “Sarah, this is not funny.” Something touched your leg and you jumped, looking down to see nothing. Shuffling was heard across the room and laughing from three different places were heard. You looked all around you in a panic, shadowy figures that resembled cats were hiding and peeking out from all around the room. You screeched as the creatures slowly emerged.

Suddenly behind you, the windows burst open with a warm gust of air and you quickly turned to be flooded with the white feathers of an owl. Covering your face so to not get scratched you shouted in fear. Then, the air was gone, the noise was gone, it was still. Slowly lowering your arms from your face, you were met with a towering, silver haired figure in a long coat, tight pants, knee high boots and an eye-patch….staring at you with a mischievous glint in his remaining eye.

And you knew.

“You’re him aren't you? You’re the Goblin King!” You accused, stepping back in fright. “I want my sister back, please, if it’s all the same.”

The corners of his mouth quirked, “What’s said is said.” His stern voice held finality.

“But I didn’t mean it,” you pleaded.

His smile grew from your words, “Oh you didn’t?” Raising a single brow.

A creature, a goblin, ran from behind you, frightening you into another shriek, between your legs and behind the King who waved his hands in front of each other and procured a glass-looking ball from what seemed thin air, like a magic trick. “I’ve brought you,” the orb danced across his fingertips as he transferred it from one hand to the other, “a gift.”

You felt inclined to take a step toward him but refused that feeling, “What is it?”

“It’s a crystal, nothing more. But, if you turn it this way and look into it,” he turned the crystal closer toward you, “it will show you your dreams. But it is not a gift for an ordinary girl who takes care of a screaming baby.” He looked down to the crystal and his smile turned upside down as he looked up to you mischievously and threw the crystal at you, turning into a snake midair and landing on your chest. You screamed in terror as the snake fell to your feet and spun in tight circles, turning into a goblin and who laughed up at you.

When you raised your head to look at the king and you were suddenly in a new place, a realm of some sort, his realm. It was a dusty landscape and he stood above you, a warm wind blowing his silver locks across the tall black collar of his dust jacket. He raised a hand aside himself and procured an image of an ornate, golden grandfather clock whose hands spun sporadically. “You have twelve hours in which to solve the Labyrinth before your baby sister becomes one of us, forever.” He grinned devilishly, “At the center of the Labyrinth lies the Goblin City, and, my castle. You will find us there, waiting.” He pointed out beyond you.

You looked behind you to the massive maze in which you had to make it through in order to save your baby sister. At the center, far off in the distance, sitting atop a hill was a large castle: your destination.

“Turn back, turn back before it’s too late,” his voice rang behind you. As you turned you realized he had gotten closer, strangely close to you.

“I can’t,” you professed. “Don’t you know why I can't?”

He laughed deeply as he stepped backwards and began to disappear, “Such a pity.” His voice echoed around you, taunting you, encouraging you to fail.

You took a deep breath, stilling your mind and readied yourself for the task at hand. Turning, you set off and hurried down the hill to the tall, light dusty stone walls of the Labyrinth. Beginning your adventure into the world you had loved from pages for so long, that had now somehow, become your worst nightmare. You had to save your sister. You had to undo what you had caused. You had to solve the Labyrinth.

As you reached the towering walls you looked for an entrance into the maze and found there was none in sight, so you ran along the walls one way till you were nearly out of breath. Not seeing an end in sight, you turned and ran back the way you came and past that, until you were sorely out of breath. There was no entrance in sight, nothing but high stone walls that went on forever.

Feeling defeated and angry, you fell to the ground on your bottom, yelling, “It’s not fair!” Picking up a rock and throwing it to the wall without it to bounce back, rather, going through the wall. This puzzled you and you tilted your head.

“Life’s not fair,” a gravelly voice sounded behind you, causing you to startle. You saw a strange looking goblin walking about, spraying fairies and paying no mind to you.

“Hey! Don’t hurt them,” you reach out to scoop up an injured fairy that had been sprayed by this goblin. It looked at you with its little eyes and cute wings. You wondered why he had sprayed a thing so innocent and minding itself.

Then you felt a sharp sting in your hand and dropped the fairy, “Ow! It bit me!” Holding your hand to your mouth to stop the small pain.

“What did you expect a fairy to do?” He grogged and turned toward you as if we were dull.

“I don’t know…nice things like granting wishes?”

The goblin rolled his eyes, “Shows what you know, don’t it?” He returned to spraying the fairies but you had an idea.

Jumping up, “Hey, you live here don’t you? Why don’t you show me how to get into this place?” You put your hands on your hips with renewed hope.

The goblin and his sprayer turned, “Well, have you tried to get in?”

You furrowed your brow in confusion, “I’ve looked but there doesn't seem to be an entrance-”

“Just go through it,” he replied hastily, bored with your presence.

This puzzled you further. “Go through it?” You echoed and he merely nodded his head.

To get in you just walk in.” He spoke as if it were the plainest answer possible, the impossible.

Intrigued by his suggestion and oddly believing this goblin despite what help he offered to be very impossible, you decided to try it. So, you turned and walked to the stone wall with trepidation, hands raised. As you neared the wall, your hands slowly disappeared, then your arms, then you were on the other side of the wall, in the Labyrinth.

Elated, you returned back to the outside to thank this helpful goblin. “Wow, I just go through it!” He only rolled his eyes and returned to spraying the fairies. “Thank you, uh,” you hadn’t gotten his name.

“Hoggle,” he offered while paying you minimal attention.

“Thank you, Hoggle!” Excited, you slipped back into the maze. Turning around, you looked at the high walls before you and exhaled a deep sigh. Into the Labyrinth you went in search of your sister, to right your wrong, to defeat the Goblin King.

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist! As always, reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated but not necessary. ❤️❤️

IOF,NLAA Taglist: @sassysaxsolo @fan-goddess

#fanfic #house of the dragon #a song of ice and fire #gameofthrones #smut #aemond targaryen #game of thrones #labyrinth #aemond #aemond smut #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond x reader #goblin king #goblin king aemond #aemond one eye

110 notes · View notes