i wanted to share a little headcanon i have for my morgan and ywain, if that's ok; i think that sometimes my morgan would find it a bit difficult to be around him, just because on a bad day he'll remind her too much of his conception and birth. but she still loves him, and she doesn't want him to feel unloved by her, so my shapeshifting morgan would turn into a small animal (specifically a cat, since i think i remember you saying somewhere that he really likes cats) and climb into his cradle/bed to cuddle with him. it's easier when she's in another body that never went through the same trauma.
that's a very sweet head canon and I would like to make that an option in the game, if that's alright by you! I genuinely love this idea
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Riorson settles on the ledge beside me. "He dragged his fingertips over her cheek, slipping them down through the valley of her—" He pauses and when I glance up in irritation his brow is raised. "Violence, in public?" he smirks.
Let's hear more about Mrs Farnon! (Dorothy hears) from the WIP list, please and thank you 😊
It's currently only vague snatches of dialogue and feelings but the premise is that Dorothy is over and she and Audrey are hanging the sheets out when there is a child hurt on the green. The other children come running in a panic to fetch Mrs Farnon to fix it. Audrey dashes off immediately calling for Dorothy to fetch Mr Farnon and while she is doing so. Dorothy then has to watch Audrey and Siegfried tending to a child and how easily they work together all they while they don't notice the children saying things like 'its ok, Mrs Farnon'll see you right.' Possible extra bits of the doctor coming to Skeldale to treat the wrist and casually addressing Audrey and Siegfried like this is a semi-regular occurrence that children flock to Skeldale for wounds to be fixed.
And an excerpt from the draft:
--‐-----------
'Siegfried, there's been an emergency, Audrey sent me to fetch you,' Dorothy said in a rush, still hearing the agonised scream of the child that had sent Audrey running, wanting to follow but instead automatically responding to the sharp ordering inflection of her friend's voice.
'An emergency?' Siegfried looked up from his paperwork and removed his glasses, already pushing up to standing. 'What happened?'
'Kid fell out a tree from what I can work out,' Dorothy trailed him as he strode through the house collecting items, holding some of them for him - bandages and water in a bottle 'Shouldn't we-?'
'Mr Farnon!' Came the out-of-breath call of a small boy as he hustled into the hall. 'Mr Farnon! Mrs Farnon says te tell yer it looks like a sprain and she needs yer to bring 'er medicine box as well. Our Lyddie's 'ollarin' summat fierce.'
Siegfried nodded once and doubled back to the kitchen, moving with confidence and purpose and trailing Dorothy and the boy. Dorothy watched the surety with which he opened a shoebox, glancing quickly over at the contents before adding another bottle from the cupboard and nodding sharply to himself before picking up a tea-towel, soaking it through and lifting the whole lot with practiced ease.
'Right, take me to them Charlie,' Siegfried ordered, and the boy nodded, heading straight for the back door as if he knew the way through the house as easily as it's inhabitants.
'Right o, this way!' They took off out the door, and Dorothy had no choice but to follow them, just in time to hear the boy cry out 'Mrs Farnon! I got 'im!'
Admittedly angst isn't really my thing. However, I have been contemplating Alys' eventual death. I won't want to post it for a while, but here's a bit I've been messing around with.
Dunk took a seat beside Lyonel, his eyes darting between him and the small babe in his arms. It was not that he didn't trust the man, but something in his eyes gave him pause.
"She's beautiful," he said, hoping the gentle words might rouse Lyonel back to himself.
The other man blinked slowly, but the storm in his expression did not break.
"She's perfect," he murmured. "I keep waiting for something to be wrong with her. But she's fucking perfect." He finally looked up, his mouth turning into a mocking smile. "I suppose that's supposed to make it all alright."
Dunk jerked back, shaking his head vigorously. "No! I mean...it's good the girl is healthy but-- No, it doesn't make it right."
Lyonel let out a laugh; a dry, cracked thing filled with bitterness and something else that compelled Dunk to remember the knife on his side.
"Well, you'd be the first man to say so."
🌪️Sum up a WIP with a few fic tropes/Ao3 tags
Some tags for Storms and Iron.
Lyonel Baratheon/Original Female Character(s), One-Sided Enemies to Lovers, Arguing is a Love Language, Slow Burn, Pining, Idiots in Love
WOWZERS. I got not one, not two, not even three but FOUR asks about this beloved grump from @sixhours @604to647 @grogusmum @din-cognito - thank you all so damn much for being so interested and sending those over!! I was honestly quite floored haha especially because all I've written for him so far have been a couple of very short drabbles.
The Cursed Dagger will be my longest, most fully fleshed out story for Pero thus far by about 600 miles (which makes me nervous as heck!) Its bones are based on a short story I wrote about a year ago, but I'm planning to lengthen it and fill it out quite a bit. I'm not sure yet if it's going to end up as a series, a long ass one shot, or maybe a two-parter, but what I do know is that it will be Pero Tovar x OFC.
Actually, make that Werewolf!Pero x Witch!OFC .
And since there were so many of you lovelies who asked about this one, here's a pair of snippets from their first encounter:
Isa approached carefully.
She knew a werewolf when she saw one, and it was clear that this one was badly injured. She knew that could make him more dangerous, that it would be safer for her to wait until he transformed before tending to his wounds. But she also knew, from the state of his blood-matted fur and torn flesh, that he was suffering . And I can help. Her eyes flashed to the creature’s chest, where a circular brand was visible through his shaggy brown fur, and she made her choice.
Reaching into her skirt pocket, she pulled out a vial of freshly brewed shadowsage oil. The recipe had been passed through generations of witches in her family. It never failed to heal a magical wound, and she hoped it would do the same for the injured wolf that had slipped through her protective wards.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” She spoke soothingly, kneeling beside the beast. Rasps and whimpers were the wolf’s only reply. Uncorking the vial, Isa poured the oil over the deep gashes, then held her palms above the area as a soft, silver light emanated from them.
The wounds began to knit, and she felt relief wash over her. It’s working. She continued until all of the slashes had sealed themselves shut, and then she sat back against a tree, waiting for the sun to reveal the man beneath the wolf.
_________________ & _________________
With a sharp inhale, Pero’s eyes flew open.
The woman was the first thing he saw, gentle sunlight filtering through the leaves of the tree she slept under to paint dappled shadows across her face. Blood stained her hands and darkened the fabric of her skirt. The sight immediately brought flashes of the previous night rushing to the forefront of his mind.
Her calming presence. Her comforting touch. The fact that she wasn’t afraid of him.
She helped me. He sat up, snatching the cloak she must have left for him and using it to cover himself. Shrugging the garment around his shoulders, he felt a surge of appreciation for the stranger. Why would she do that?
Seeming to sense that he was awake, she stirred, sitting up against the trunk. Blinking slowly, she took a breath and echoed the same words she’d spoken to the wolf. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Part of him wanted to fall to tears at her feet, sweep her into his arms and profess his gratitude for what she’d done. It’d been years since anyone showed him that kind of compassion. That kind of humanity. But a larger part of him was livid with how she’d put herself in danger. Instead of thanks, the first thing out of his mouth was a snarl.
“But I could have hurt you, easily,” he spat. “You shouldn’t have come so close.”
Unflinching, she let out a huff. “You weren’t exactly a threat in the shape I found you in.” She lifted one hand and Pero’s eyes widened as her palm began to glow. “Not to me.” Curling her fingers, the light dimmed and went out, but her point had been made.
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rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. tag as many people as you have wips. people can send an ask with the title(s) that most intrigue them, then you post a snippet or tell them about it!
Thanks for tagging me, @ca11istee! 🥰 Been a while since I've done one of these!
