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f1tyreslightmyfyre · 5 months

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Immortal Artistry - Ch. 5

Series Main List

A Vampire AU F1 Fic Featuring Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader, George Russell x Fem!Reader, hints of Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader, Lestappen, Sebchal, and Sainzell (or Russainz?)

Also on AO3

Ch. 5 Warnings: Explicit sexual content; language; stalker behavior; abduction; vampire blood violence and thrall; WWII references to Hitler and Nazi regime; non-graphic violence, murder and death

2023

You draft back to consciousness. A soft pillow rests beneath your head. A warm blanket surrounds you. A heavenly mattress cushions you. Blinking your eyes open, you swear that you float on a cloud, except….

The bedroom’s unfamiliar surroundings fill you with immediate dread. Exhaustion gnaws at every muscle, but your fight-or-flight response still engages. Especially as the alarming memories of the coffee shop return in full force - remembering George and his… teeth. Remembering Max just suddenly being there and then… now, you’re here…

If only you knew where here is. The furniture speaks to opulent luxury and exquisite taste, even down to the plush carpet that greets your feet as you sit up. A wave of dizziness makes your head swim as you get your bearings, and your gaze lands on a glass of orange juice sitting on the bedside table.

Orange juice… and not water?

Curiosity compels you to lean forward, hovering your nose over the glass’ contents. The sweet aroma of juicy citrus perfumes the air, and your confusion only grows. Why of all liquids is orange juice resting on the bedside table?

Your ears catch up with the rest of your senses, and you turn towards the cracked bedroom door. The soft, elegant notes of a piano float from somewhere beyond, just barely audible in the silence of the bedroom. Standing up, you draw an uneasy breath as your body feels weak. You have no idea what time it is or when you last ate, but it doesn't appear that you’re locked in, so maybe you can escape.

The door swings wide on a silent hinge, and the hallway beyond matches the same elegant taste as the bedroom. A grand staircase extends from the end of the hallway, and you follow it down on plush carpet as the piano music grows steadily louder.

When your feet touch the marble landing, your stomach drops as you recognize everything about the interior of the opulent, classy main floor. It takes you instantly back to your dream - or fuck, the not dream - the last time that you saw Charles. To when… fuck, was that seriously just last night?

You gasp for breath as the room starts to spin, raising a hand to your head to brace yourself.

The piano music dies as an all-too familiar silky voice calls out. “Careful, cara mia. You should still be resting.”

Drawing a deep breath through your nose and exhaling out your mouth, you force your eyes open only to see… him.

Charles sits on the gleaming white piano bench, turned towards you with a soft, concerned smile. A white dress shirt highlights the lean build of his torso and rolled sleeves showcase the elegant planes of his forearms. Dark suit trousers hug his legs above bare feet, and coupled with the devil-may-care style of his hair… it’s -

No man should be allowed to look so criminally handsome.

You give a bewildered shake of your head. “I don’t… I’m too tired to rest.” Again, you scrub a hand across your forehead and down your face, feeling the ache in your temples increase.

“Did you drink the orange juice?”

You hang your head with a gentle shake. “No - what kind of idiot do you take me for? Drinking an unknown drink when I don’t even know where I am?”

A shadow moves off to your left, and your eyes dart up to suddenly see Charles standing alongside you. How had you not even heard him move? Or heard the scrape of the piano bench against the floor?

“You’ve been through a lot - too much, I suppose. But that just speaks to your strength.” Charles continues softly as a cool, solid hand falls to your shoulder. “That doesn’t mean you should overdo it, though.” He guides you forward, and you can’t summon the strength to resist.

With a sigh, you drop to sit on a cushy couch that has no right to be so inviting. Blinking heavy eyelids up at him, goodness… Charles is stunning. Golden light catches in the waves of his hair and shines in the emeralds of his eyes. He radiates breezy confidence, an oasis of calm in the muddled desert that has become your life.

He gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Will you be alright if I leave you here? I really do think orange juice would help.”

“As long as…” you sigh as you swallow nervously. “Only if you promise it’s not poisoned.”

“I promise it’s not poisoned.” With another gentle squeeze of your shoulder, his touch disappears as he moves away from you. “I don’t have any reason to wish you dead. If I did, you would still be in that coffee shop with George.”

The memories replay in the back of your mind as anxiety clenches your stomach. “Then, why am I here?”

Your question lingers unanswered as Charles disappears for – not even the space of a breath. Your brow furrows at the sudden appearance of a glass of orange juice in his hand, and… okay, maybe your brain is just really too tired to even see straight.

The glass is cold against your fingertips and the pulpy liquid is admittedly refreshing. The sugary liquid hits your empty stomach and a burst of energy warms your stomach.

Charles wears a patient and satisfied expression as you take another hearty drink. “See?” He prompts. “Not poisoned.”

Embarrassed heat rises in your cheeks. “Sorry. It’s not that I don’t trust you, but-”

“I haven’t given you any reason to trust me, and if I were you, I probably wouldn’t, either.” He cuts you off as he joins you on the couch and levels you with a serious stare. “But it’s time to fix that.”

A chill races along your skin, rippling down your spine. Something about him reminds you of George, of that predatory glow in his eyes. Your fingers tighten around the glass as unwanted memory flashes in your mind.

“Were you this frightened for Charles, hmm?” George cooed. “I can’t imagine how he resisted you…”

Your other hand rises to your throat as if to protect it. “… What was George going to do to my neck?”

“Bite you, of course.” Charles answers without pause, his tone light despite the gravity of his words. “I hadn’t wanted to tell you outright what we are. At face value, the truth is quite dismissible – laughable, even. But, well… George saved me the trouble, I suppose.”

You turn to him with wide eyes. “He was going to bite me? With those unnaturally pointed teeth of his? Like, what… like a vamp– ”

The word dies in your throat as Charles’ smile widens to reveal fangs – honest-to-God fangs - of his own. Razor sharp canines that dwarf the surrounding teeth and glint in the golden light like a knife’s edge.

Your mind slams into overdrive as the impossible truth stares you in the face. “That…” you trail off as you struggle to make sense of it. “That’s why you needed the late night meeting… that’s why I’ve only ever seen you at night. And Max, too. And -” You shake your head as you recall every time that you have seen George - in the hours after sunset, in the time before sunrise. “And the… what did you call it? Hypnosis?” You turn back to Charles, thankful to see his fangs hidden away. “That’s your thrall, isn’t it?”

Charles’ gaze sharpens with a shrewd edge. “That’s just one name for it. Bram Stoker didn’t get everything right, but he certainly knew enough.”

You gulp heavily at the implication. “Does that mean I’m under your spell? Or rather, Max’s spell…? That I’m… forced to do his bidding whenever he wants?”

“The effects of our hypnotic hold over mortals is temporary unless there’s a blood exchange. And since he hasn’t bitten you, you two don’t share that connection unless he’s present.”

“So, if George had…” A shuddering breath leaves you as your stomach rots. “If he had bitten me, then I’d now be trapped under his spell?”

“Whether he would have hypnotized you tonight or not, I cannot say - but whenever he chose to, it would be much easier for him to do so. And me - or Max, for that matter - would be unable to help you.”

“Because I would be his?”

Charles nods his head. “Because you would be his.”

Something about that thought… isn’t completely revolting. George, the man - err, vampire - is certainly handsome and quite charming. But it still doesn’t make sense. You take another sip of the orange juice, reaching forward to set the glass down on the coffee table. “But I guess I don’t understand why he would want to make me his. He…”

“But Charles gave it to you.” George pressed. “You have it, don’t you? Xavier didn’t have it.”

Anxiety knots your stomach as you turn back to Charles, glimpsing the glittering light dancing in his green eyes. “George asked me if you gave me something. Something that Xavier didn’t have.” Your gaze narrows pointedly. “He was talking about my boss, right? Were you supposed to give him something that night, but you met with me instead?”

Charles’ gaze hardens. “Xavi already knew what I had to give him, and I knew that my meeting wasn’t with him.”

“Then, are you able to tell George that I don’t have it? Whatever it is… then he can leave me alone, and you two can sort it out.”

Charles’ soft chuckle cracks a smile on his face. “I’m afraid the game is far too old for that. We each have our chess pieces and we play them as opportunity allows.” His eyes narrow in open assessment, heat growing on your skin as he looks you up and down. “He was trying to make you into his own personal chess piece, but fortunately, Max has been keeping a close eye on you.”

“Is that meant to be reassuring?” You scoff. “You say that George wants to turn me into his chess piece - well, how do I know that you and Max aren’t trying to do the same?”

“Who says we aren’t?”

Your blood runs cold as shivers ripple down your spine. You stare back, wide-eyed and stunned as your mouth goes dry. “So, you’re… you’re going to… bite me?”

“It’s the offer on the table.” Charles says with a business-like calm. “If George is convinced of some fact and wants you on his side - with or without your permission - then, Max thought we would offer you the choice.”

You gulp, glancing around the expansive room. “And is he here? Max…?”

A private smile curls the corner of Charles’ mouth. “He’s never too far away.”

Nothing about that is anymore comforting, and you take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “Okay… so, according to you - I have two options: join George’s team or join your team?”

“If you must simplify it so plainly, then yes.”

“Then, why don’t you explain it to me?”

Charles arches a defiant brow. “Do you really think that would make you safer?”

“Do you think it would place me in any more danger?” You shake your head sharply with another scoff. “I don’t have the first fucking clue about any of this and already I’ve met three vampires - possibly more - and one of them has attacked me, while another one has hypnotized me, and now, you’re… you’re…”

You don’t know what exactly. Your thoughts are too jumbled and Charles isn’t speaking clearly enough for you to piece the big picture together.

“I really thought you were smarter than that.” George urged. “Smart enough to see through him… to see that what he’s doing is just wrong.”

With another deep breath, you swallow your rising anxiety. “How do I know your team is the right one to join, hmm?” You arch a challenging brow. “How do I know that you’re not the villain in this game of chess?”

The look in Charles’ eyes suddenly ages him decades older than his youthful countenance. “Heroes and villains are constructs of the mortal world, cara mia. Fanciful concepts to paint the world in white and black, and right and wrong.” He pauses as a wickedly tempting smile lights his face. “But immortality offers a world of grey and endless opportunity to make your way.”

“That doesn’t exactly help your case, you know.”

“I know, and I’m not trying to build a case.” He nods towards you. “Whether or not you like it, or whether or not you know why, you’re caught in the middle. And if you want control of the choice, then you will make it tonight.”

Frustration tightens the line of your jaw. “Then why don’t you just tell me what I’m caught in the middle of, and then I can make an informed decision.”

“I fear telling you outright would only raise suspicion. Especially if you are, as of yet… unclaimed.”

You arch a brow as your stomach drops to your feet. “Unclaimed…? You said nothing about claiming me.”

“It’s, err - maybe not the best choice of word.” A sheepish look flashes across his face. “But after a blood exchange, our hypnotic hold intensifies and…evolves. It forms a sort-of mental connection between us and our chosen thrall, but the thrall is not completely independent of free-will. It’s…” He trails off with a sigh and another sheepish grin. “It’s not easy to explain, actually.”

You stare at him, still unable to believe it. “How… how long have you been alive?”

“I’ve been undead since 1940.”

“1940…? Shit, that’s… World War II.”

Slowly, he nods. “Yes, it was.”

“Did you fight?”

His gaze finds yours, mesmerizing and keen. “Quite personal questions, don’t you think?”

You shrug gently. “You said it was time to change the fact that I don’t trust you. If George was going to just… take me in that coffee shop tonight, then maybe you… you can just give it to me, instead? If that makes sense…?”

Something sparks in Charles’ eyes, and really… it’s fucking unfair how edible he looks. His tongue darts out to wet his top lip and you’re helpless not to follow the motion. “I did fight,” he starts softly. “Monaco - still my home, even then - remained neutral throughout the war, but 800 men were mobilized in support of French forces when war broke out in 1939.” He pauses as his eyes gloss over with distant memory. “By May 1940, the Nazis were sweeping the continent and our forces had nowhere to go except for Dunkirk.”

Your breath catches. “Dunkirk…? The Dunkirk evacuation?” It sounds too unreal to possibly be real. “You were there?”

“I never made it that far.” Charles says with a short shake of his head. “My sire found me in the woods as we marched towards the coast. I suppose you could say he saved me the trouble of worrying about a boat ride when he transformed me.”

“Is that what you call it?” You wave a hand as if the motion somehow captures everything about Charles’ words. “When you turn into a… vampire? A transformation?”

“That, too, has many names - but that is what I prefer to call it.”

Again, your hand rises to your neck in a protective gesture and your thumb sweeps over your pulse. “Were you given the choice? By your - what did you call him - sire?”

The corner of Charles’ mouth tightens. “No, I wasn’t. And no - I won’t explain his reasoning.”

“I wasn’t going to ask. That just seems…” You’re not sure exactly what to say. It seems wrong that Charles wasn’t given a choice on whether to become immortal or not. But, then again, how do you actually answer a question like that? Either way, it’s far too personal to ever be any of your business.

Silence stretches between you, and thankfully, he doesn’t press you. Why would he? The man - the vampire - literally has forever to wait. You, on the other hand… fuck, you still have to go to work tomorrow. You still don’t have a boss, you still don’t have a clue what Charles was supposed to give Xavier that George wants, and… you don’t even have a clue how late it is.

You turn back towards Charles. “If you bite me - if I let you - what do I get out of it?” Even as the words leave your tongue, they still sound impossibly ridiculous. Vampires just aren’t real… yet you can’t deny all the proof before your eyes.

“A fair question.” Charles acknowledges. “I suppose you could call it protection… or, at least, subliminal awareness of each other. A connection that could alert me to your distress or future danger. A connection that could lead me to where you are, in case you’re captured.”

The orange juice roils in your gut. “None of that sounds reassuring.”

“No?” He echoes even as the corner of his mouth lifts. “Nothing reassuring about having me as your own personal guardian angel?”

“Not if that also turns me into a piece on your chessboard.”

“Then, it doesn’t have to be me.” His smile widens with a teasing, suggestive slant. “As I recall, you were indeed quite taken with Max.”

Your cheeks heat with an embarrassed flush, especially since you’re not able to conjure any concrete memory of being ‘quite taken’ with Max. Just what exactly had you done? Or what had you said? “I don’t… that’s not…” You struggle for words, hoping it’s not obvious to him. “You… or him - that’s not the -”

“Or it could be both of us.”

Unwanted thoughts flood your brain. Dear Lord, what would it be to have the two of them together? Images of a cliche dark room, four-poster bed and blood-red sheets dance in your mind. Tangles of lean hips and strong arms, thick brunette curls and lush sandy locks surround you as you’re caught in the push and pull between them. Rivulets of blood decorate your skin, weeping from matching puncture wounds as they own your body, inside and out.

A different heat stirs in your blood - a demanding heat that gathers between your legs, unstoppable even in the face of life-threatening danger and utter confusion.

Charles purrs low in his throat. “Exquisite, cara mia.”

Mortified heat burns your cheeks. “No, no - I don’t-”

“Your lying words cannot mask the scent of your blood.” He pauses to draw a deliberate, deep inhale. “And yours heats with such… delectable promise.”

“It’s nothing, it’s - “ You cut yourself off as another thought dawns. “Do you not wish that I was more scared? I thought… well, George made it sound like fear… was the most delicious?”

A low, throaty chuckle rumbles in Charles’ chest. “I suppose it depends on one’s preference. If you liken fear to dark chocolate and desire to a lush fruit - they both can make for an exquisite treat while being quite different.”

“And your preference?” Your words come far breathier than you would like as your heart gallops.

Charles’ eyes darken as his smile widens. “If I wanted you scared,” he says carefully as he slowly raises a hand, brushing a knuckle down the outside of your arm in a gentle caress. “We would be having a much different conversation.”

His touch speaks to the traitorous arousal curling at the base of your spine, and god… why is this so hard? You force a swallow down your dry throat. “So, you w-would rather…”

“I would rather have you melting in my lap, whimpering with desire, and soaking through my trousers,” his voice doesn’t falter as he holds you with a gaze that leaves no room for doubt. “If you choose me, that is.”

“A-and Max…?” You manage to say around your heavy breathing. “H-he wouldn’t mind if you… if we-”

“Max is indeed very special to me - more so than any mortal. But he and I are not…” Charles trails off as a predatory gleam sharpens his enticing smirk. “Exclusive.”

Fuck, that does absolutely nothing to help. Your body continues to run away from the protests of your mind, not helped by the teasing caress of his nimble fingers. A shiver ripples across your skin as you fight for clarity. “You’re not playing fair.”

Another delicious chuckle sounds in Charles’ throat. “No, I’m not, am I? One is never too old - or undead - to not press their advantage.” His hand turns against your arm and his fingertips brush the exposed skin of your forearm. A shuddering sigh passes your lips as his chilly touch races more shivers through you. Your thighs clench together with aching need, unable to understand the strong reaction of your body.

Your breath catches in your throat as the sofa dips under his shifting weight. The heady weight of his thigh brushes yours, and an intoxicating scent reaches your nose… fucking fuck, why does he have to smell so good? You want to chase the spicy, woodsy scent across his skin, to breathe it deep in your lungs. Your eyes drop closed as it invades your senses, further fogging your brain.

Charles’ fingers dance around your wrist, stroking the thin, tender skin covering the major blood vessels beneath. “You still have a choice, cara mia.” His voice washes over you like rich syrup. “You just need to tell me what you want.”

Whatever resistance your mind can summon drowns under the urgent rush of blood pounding in your ears, and… at least, this is on your terms. Mostly. With a trembling breath, you slowly nod. “Y-yes… alright.”

He growls low in approval. “I’m honored, cara mia.” He gives your wrist a gentle squeeze before threading his fingers over the back of your hand and interlacing them together.

You squeeze his hand, finding more reassurance in his touch than you ever expected despite the chilly temperature of his skin. Again, he shifts closer to you, and your heart races as he looms over you - so controlled, so dark, so fucking gorgeous.

“Breathe for me,” he whispers in a velvet pur. “Just breathe.”

You draw a deep breath, trying to steady the pounding of your heart. Can he hear it? Does he know how it threatens to beat out of your chest?

The cool press of his nose against your cheek makes you gasp and involuntarily arch into his touch. Every part of your body responds to his close presence and cries out for more, so much more.

“That’s it,” he coos, nuzzling down the line of your jaw as you helplessly tilt your head. “You are such a treasure.”

A whimper passes your lips as you drown under his voice. His lips dance along the column of your throat and you squeeze his hand, rewarded when he tightens his grip in response.

His teeth slice through your skin like butter. The sharp, invasive pain lances through you and a gasping cry lodges in your throat. His lips seal around the wounds, and pleasure slams through you as he draws your blood. Your body twitches against the couch in desperate need, moaning with abandon as mindless euphoria overtakes you. You cling tight to his hand, lost to everything that floods your body as he takes another long, slow drink. Your other hand finds the silky locks of his hair, holding him close, grasping for contact - for leverage to get your body closer to his.

The piercing sting of his teeth withdraws and a needy whimper pitches high in your throat. A bereft sense of loss spreads through you, and you cling tighter to him, trying to chase that delicious high. His tongue finds your skin, dragging over the twin punctures with solid, steady strokes that do nothing to quell the inferno raging inside you.

You don’t recognize the sound of your own ragged breathing as he continues to lick and nuzzle at your skin. You also don’t recognize the light-headed dizziness that dances in your head, nor how you seem to be floating six feet above the couch. Or, at least, that’s what it feels like.

And you haven’t even orgasmed. Or, at least, you don’t think so.

Charles gives your hand a gentle squeeze as it relaxes in his grip. “Thank you, cara mia.” He nuzzles your jaw with a satisfied hum. “I don’t think you’ll regret your decision.”

“Wha…” The word dies on your tongue, slurred as you struggle to think through the sensations overloading your body.

Charles shushes you gently, pressing a wet, sticky kiss to your cheek. “You should rest. I understand the first time is… quite intense.” Another press of his lips follows as your eyelids grow heavy and darkness cuts the corners of your mind. “That’s it, cara mia. Rest now, and I’ll see to it that you get home.”

1944

The sounds of the cavern deafen him. Max still isn’t used to his heightened hearing and each drip of water, each scrape of pebbles against stone, each whistle of wind grates on his nerves. He doesn’t consider patience to be one of his strengths, but at least, he doesn’t need a torch in this godforsaken underground labyrinth.

“There’s nothing here, Charles.” He says without preamble as they take in the dark stone surroundings. “The soldier lied to us.”

“Can you blame him?” Charles counters, unbothered by Max’s irritation. His smile still glints in the damp darkness and his eyes glow with the thrill of exploration. Max can’t explain why Charles’ breathtaking beauty continues to stun him, but he finds himself falling all over again. Charles blinks down to the ground, scuffing at a small puddle as he continues. “I’m glad there is nothing stored here, though. This humid environment would be terrible for the artwork.”

Max snorts before he can stop himself. “It’s remarkable how much you care - actually care - about the artwork.”

“It’s clear the Nazis only see it as a means to an end, or a bargaining chip.” Charles says, his voice echoing off the stone cave. “Just because we haven't heard of them ransoming treasures doesn’t mean that it’s not happening.”

“Why ransom when they can just sell?” Max scoffs. “Or take it for free and turn a profit? Nothing has stopped them yet.”

“Nor will it.” Charles agrees as he looks back over at Max in the darkness. “Not until they consume everything worth consuming.”

Dripping water echoes off the stone walls and cold humidity eats at their skin, but when Charles holds him with such a tender gaze, Max finds it hard to care about anything else. His feet crunch against loose stone and earth as he steps close to Charles and wraps his chilled fingers in a gentle handhold. “Is it a bad joke to say that your fingers feel as cold as death?”

The corner of Charles’ mouth ticks up. “That is most definitely a bad joke, but we are undead men together so that shouldn’t bother you.”

“I never said it did.” Max gives Charles’ hand a squeeze as he hums low in his throat. “In fact, quite the opposite. It’s hard to steal time away with you, you know.”

An endearingly modest smile takes over Charles’ face. “There is a war going on, you know? Even for immortals, opportunity waits for no one.”

Max nearly rolls his eyes. “You sound like Seb.”

“Perhaps you should learn to listen better to him.” Charles’ voice drops to a silky, deliberately teasing register. “We both owe him a lot.”

“I don’t owe him shit.” Max says, raising his other hand to Charles’ chin and pressing against the delicate skin to raise the other man’s head. “When I lay there dying - when I begged for help - you were the only one. Not any of those soldiers, not Seb - you.”

“I’m still sorry that I couldn’t give you the choice.”

“Stop apologizing for that. I asked for help and you helped - simple as that.”

Fond appreciation warms Charles’ mesmerizing eyes before he leans it and effortlessly slots his mouth to Max’s. The kiss transcends words, stirring the passion and possession that overtakes them both during stolen moments together. Arousal heats Max’s frigid veins as Charles’ tongue pries at the seam of his lips and their embrace deepens. A low growl pitches in Max’s throat as they devour each other.

Opportunity may wait for no one, but surely Max can take time to press Charles against the uneven stone, to hear his ragged moans echo in the cavern, to let their bodies chase pleasure together in the dark underground.

An answering growl stirs in Charles’ chest and Max abandons Charles’ chin to skim his fingers down the pale column of his neck. He rolls his hips forward, pressing them tight to Charles with shameless abandon. “Let me have you,” Max breathes into Charles’ mouth. “Let me fuck you raw.”

“Oh, fuck,” Charles gasps as his hips match Max’s with an answering thrust. “That would feel so good right now.”

“Better than good.” Max murmurs, nipping along Charles’ lips. “I’ll make you-”

“There’s something happening on the road.” Seb’s voice echoes in the stone chamber, slicing through the lustful fog. “Get out here. Now.”

Frustration stabs Max in the chest, but once he separates from Charles, he can understand that this isn’t necessarily the most appropriate moment. But, dammit, they’ve been searching the cavernous underworld beneath the multitude of mountain ranges in the Northern Limestone Alps for weeks now. Each major retreat of Nazi squadrons narrows the search. Each desperate attempt by men on the losing side to thwart the forward advance of the victors yields more clues.

They’re so close to the Nazi central storage location, Max can almost taste it.

In the moment, though, he only has the fading memory of Charles’ kiss lingering on his tongue as they navigate their way out of the cave. If the diehard Nazi troops in the region are stirring up a scene at this late hour, then it must truly be something noteworthy.

The glow of moonlight blinds him for an instant as his eyes adjust and he surveys the scene on the road. A truck trundles along the rutted path without headlights, but the glow of one lone torch hangs out the passenger window. Usually, the Nazi troops don’t try to hide their presence - with a string of labor camps near Ebensee and confirmed rumors of Nazi stockpiles near Totes Gebirge - they all but own the surrounding Salzkammergut Mountains. However, the men in this truck clearly don’t wish to be seen - even by their own kind.

Charles crouches low, squinting into the distance. “Now where could they possibly be going at this hour?”

Seb tilts his head as he stares at the truck. “Somewhere they don’t want anyone to see.”

“Then, they shouldn’t use a truck.” Max says with a shake of his head. “They’d be less conspicuous on foot.”

“This road is so rural,” Seb counters. “There’s no one that they would expect to find here.”

Charles’ smirk gleams in the moonlight. “Except us.”

Max matches his smirk. “Unlucky bastards.”

They move in the night, swift as shadows and just as silent. Of all his heightened vampiric senses, the supernatural strength and agility that infused his muscles has to be Max’s favorite. While the sharpened vision and enhanced hearing are useful, when it comes to trailing their Nazi quarry… well, Max takes every advantage that he can get.

It’s only when they close the distance, easily close enough to strike, that Seb comes to a deliberate stop. A stab of confused disappointment lances through Max as he stops in tandem silence with Charles, both glancing towards the older vampire. He doesn’t use words, but none of them need to.

The soldiers tell their own story as they cluster around the shrouded, rocky outcropping at the base of the mountains. Seb calls this range Totes Gebirge - Dead Mountains - and Max has to agree it’s aptly fitting. The jagged, rocky surroundings support almost no vegetation and honestly, it’s going to be a suitable grave for these soon-to-be dead men.

Between the atrocities he witnessed at home and the inhumane horrors of the Nazi camps, Max has no qualms about dispatching anyone who wears the swastika. And the longer he watches the group of six men stand around the rocks, the more his frustration grows.

Seb turns towards him, silently raising a hand - a sign to stay calm, to hold position. Max may never have been a soldier given the Netherlands’ neutrality, but his time in the Resistance taught him plenty. He grits his teeth, running his thumb over the round, knobbed end of the spike dagger in his pocket. Despite the prowess of his physical strength and sharp teeth, he’s never broken the habit of relying on his dagger for the dirty work often required in spycraft.

Like Seb, he turns his attention back to the soldiers, watching as three of them turn and disappear into the shadows of the mountain… into a cave, he realizes. The situation turns more curious as voices raise in clear disagreement, in clear alarm and anger. When the men return, two of them labor under a heavy load. Their backs stoop low as they manhandle a long, curved tube, a tube… outfitted with aerial fins.

Charles’ near silent gasp reaches his ears as realization hits him, too. It’s an aircraft bomb. Is this some secret Nazi weapon stockpile? Or are these men thieves in the night? It seems hard to believe such a small detachment would be out so late for an official supply run. Especially in a truck with no headlights.

Seb’s fangs flash in the night, and the reasons for the soldiers’ presence hardly matters. He leads the stealthy charge forward, and Max follows with an eager willingness to spring into action. His spike dagger whispers in the darkness as the sharp end finds soft flesh and the solid knobbed end meets delicate skulls.

As the last body falls and silence reigns supreme, it’s honestly annoying how loud humans are without even trying. Slipping the spike dagger back in his pocket, Max nudges one of the dead soldiers out of the way and crouches down to study the missile. Up close, the weapon’s precisely crafted shape betrays its true, lethal purpose. He shakes his head, knocking a knuckle against the metal casing with a dull metallic thud. “An airplane bomb,” he says, glancing up into the cave’s crudely-formed, dark opening. “How many more do you suppose they have in there?”

Despite the rocky ground and loose pebbles, Charles moves on near-silent footsteps. “Only one way to find out. Though, why would they store such arms here and not in a depot… there’s not an airfield within kilometers of here. Nor a factory.”

“Animals on the run grow desperate,” Seb says as he studies the mouth of the cave opening. “And they seldom use logic. With the Allied advance bearing down on them, I don’t doubt that they’re hiding what they can wherever they can, even if there’s no rationale to it.”

Max pushes to his feet. “If this is really where they’re storing missiles, then it hardly seems efficient to have such a small crew carry them out one by one.”

“And in the dead of the night,” Charles continues. “In a vehicle where they refused to use the headlights… perhaps they were planning a secret bombing run?”

Seb snorts as he ducks to enter the opening and his voice echoes off stone. “That sounds too fantastical for the Nazis. Soldiers stealing bombs and planes in an act of sedition.”

Affront wrinkles Charles’ brow as Max walks to the opening and crouches down to follow Seb inside. “Well, what else would you call it?” Charles continues as he crouches down next to Max’s side. “Taking just one missile won’t change the course of war, non - but dropping just one bomb? The right bomb, on the right target could disrupt, demoralize, deorganize...”

Seb chuckles softly as the dark stone interior closes around them and the air grows stale. “By that logic, we should take that bomb and drop it on Hitler ourselves, yes?”

“Then, why don’t we?” Max hears himself answer as faint light glistens in mineral crystals as they descend the subterranean tunnel. “That’s what I’ve said since the beginning - there’s nothing stopping us from just getting close and hitting him and his men in the dead of night. Let’s end this now.”

“It’s never that simple.” Seb counters with a scolding shake of his head. “Exposing our kind to the world like that… for the humans, ignorance is bliss. And we are the guardians of the truth’s ugliness.”

The air grows heavy with briny salt as they move deeper into the mountain, boots crunching against the hard rock. Charles hums low in his throat. “The price of immortality, non?”

Truthfully, Max has little patience when Charles and Seb wax poetically about the state of mortals and immortals. Despite whatever philosophical ideas they entertain about truth and beauty and everything between - it changes nothing about the here and now. It bends none of the rules that Max supposedly has to follow. It alters nothing about the state of his undead existence or the fate of mortals who wage their horrendous war and steadily march towards self-destruction.

The ground slopes away, suddenly steeper under his feet, and distracts his focus. They brace against the rocky, jagged walls, slowing their steps as they approach a wall… a wall where the tunnel ends? Or perhaps it continues through the narrow, carved opening.

Max eyes the opening in the wall ahead cautiously. “I don’t like that this is beginning to feel like a trap.”

“A trap makes no sense,” Seb rationalizes, crouching down to study the dramatically shorter tunnel opening. “Why would the Nazis trap themselves, hmm?”

“Why wouldn’t they plant booby traps to keep others out, hmm?” Max counters sharply. “Perhaps that’s what that bomb was, yeah? Protecting something else that they didn’t want others to discover?”

Charles’ eyes brighten with intrigue. “And why not? The salt in the air creates a much more stable environment for storage. Perhaps this is a hidden weapons depot or a… a treasure storage.”

“Only one way to find out.” Seb braces a hand against the shorter tunnel opening and moves forward, knees bent and back hunched as he disappears into the darkness.

Max wets his top lip impatiently. “How long does it look, Seb?”

A beat of silence passes with only a faint whistle of wind for company. His brow furrows with immediate concern. “Seb?” He calls out again, staring down at the tunnel opening as if willing the older vampire to emerge.

Charles’ voice mimics his concern. “Seb? Is everything all right?” He kneels down, squinting into the opening and tilting his head with sudden curiosity. “Seb just… what is it?”

Max crouches down, needing to see for himself - and discovering that the new tunnel was more just a narrow opening in the rock. Seb blocks the other side, clearly stunned and frozen by whatever sight lays on the other side.

“Scheiße,” Seb breathes, his voice low. “This is… I just… I can’t believe what I’m looking at.”

Both Charles and Max scramble for the tunnel entrance at the same time, and Charles squeezes in ahead of him. He pushes gently at Seb’s back, and the blonde vampire moves to let Charles come through with Max right behind him. Perched on a gently sloping ledge, an expansive salt cavern extends in front of them - something clearly mined by humans, something still occupied by humans.

Or at least, human treasure.

Crates upon crates, boxes upon boxes, stacks upon stacks, and piles upon piles of cultural riches lay before them. Artwork, books, statues, illustrations, tapestries - all hidden away from the world and ripe for discovery. Max doesn’t register his jaw dropping as he scans the sea of priceless treasures in front of him.

Is this it? Is this what they’ve been searching for?

Charles lets out a breathless, incredulous laugh. “Mamma mia… there’s so much here! I don’t.. I don’t even know where to begin!” He runs a hand through his hair, wetting his top lip with eager excitement.

Seb shakes his head. “Perhaps you were right, Max,” he muses, glancing over with a fond smile. “Perhaps they were going to booby trap that entrance. Or perhaps they were just going to detonate anyway and forever bury this hoard of cultural wealth.”

“I have to get down there.” Charles says, turning his gaze towards the ledge and testing his footing on the descent. “We can’t just let this all go to waste.”

“We won’t.” Max agrees, following Charles into action and securing a handhold to work down the ledge. “If only the Nazis know this is here, we have the advantage. We can do as we please.”

Seb’s smile curls in the darkness as he follows them down to the collection of artwork that will forever change their undead existence. “And we certainly will.”

Series Main List

Tag List: @fictional-l0v3r @hollie911

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liiilyevans · 10 months

Note

Dunno if this counts as a prompt but Hinny post Battle of Hogwarts?

send me a prompt

It does count! Also, I hope you're ready for some angst :)

Ginny lifted the bottle of Firewhiskey to her lips and took a long pull as she listened to the crickets on the back porch of the Burrow. They'd just gotten rid of all the guests from Fred's funeral, and now six in the evening felt like one in the morning. Maybe that was how alcohol made you feel. Mum would be pissed if she found Ginny like this, but she thought that if George was allowed to drink like this for a week leading up to the funeral, then she was allowed to drink like this after it ended.

As Ginny took another chug from the bottle, the back door opened.

"Go away, Mum," Ginny said. "Doesn't George need you more than me?"

"Your mum is still with George, even though I'm pretty sure he's passed out on the couch."

Ginny spun around and immediately regretted it. The world started to spin, and she had to grip her head to keep from puking. Gently hands took the bottle from her grip, and she heard it click against the porch. Heat radiated off of Harry as he sat down next to her and seeped into her.

"It was a good service."

"Please, don't."

Ginny didn't want to talk about Fred's funeral or how the service was nice or how George had managed to get through it without passing out. She wanted to forget this day existed, and she wanted to do that far away from the boy who had broken her heart a year ago trying to do the noble thing.

Harry swallowed, but he remained where he was. He probably felt awkward, she realized. He'd come out here to be nice and offer his condolences, possibly to let her cry on his shoulder, and she'd been abrasive. It was too bad. Harry had nice shoulders.

"You're right," he finally said. "The service was awful. Fred would have wanted at least on joke in there that scandalized your mother."

Ginny couldn't help the laugh that tumbled from her lips because he was right. Fred would have found that hilarious. Then her laughter was turning to tears, and Ginny couldn't stop the sobs that were spilling over her lips.

Suddenly, Harry wrapped her arms around her and tugged her against him. Ginny's fingers gripped his shirt so hard, she thought it would tear at the seams. The smell of grass and pine lodged itself in her throat. She thought she'd never be this close to Harry again, close enough that she could feel the heat of his skin against her cheek, close enough that she could smell him, close enough that she could feel his six o'clock shadow tickle her forehead.

"I'm sorry, Gin," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I'm so sorry."

Ginny thought she felt a tear drop onto her forehead.

Then a bright light was shining into her eyes, and Ginny yanked away from Harry savagely wiping at her eyes.

Ron stood in the doorway looking ashen and apologetic. "Oh, shit. Sorry."

"Ron!" Hermione hissed, coming up behind him. She looked furious, even if there were dark circles under her eyes and they were rimmed red from tears.

"What?" he said. "I didn't know they were out here."

Quickly, Ginny stood up and started down the stairs, leaving the bottle of Firewhiskey with Harry.

"Ginny!" Hermione called after her. "Where are you going?"

"Ginny," Harry said softly.

Ginny spun around then, anger bubbling to the surface. Anger at the Death Eater who took her brother from her, anger at the fanatic who had used his puppets to terrorize her school all year, anger at the the three people standing before her for never really being there for her when she needed them most.

"Why don't you all just fuck off?" she said. "You're pretty good at that."

The shock on their faces didn't feel satisfying like she thought it would. Instead, she just felt self-disgust pool in her stomach, similar to how she felt when she'd realized that she was the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets.

Then Ginny turned and marched toward the broom shed.

#i would say i'm sorry but i'm not #hinny #harry potter #ginny weasley #i hope you enjoy!#answered #my writing

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covenofwives · 11 months

Text

Going Home Part 2

DreamXD is madder than he has ever been, having just saved Dream and George from the End. While he takes George home he has different ideas for Dream, instead giving his brother over to someone else to watch while he cleans up Dream's mess. Dream's lucky day is he gets to meet another God, too bad the God is a sleepy grouch who doesn't seem to want anything to do with Dream.

Part two of the three part fic! You don't need to read part one if you don't want to, but you might miss some details.

As voted by the peoples, part three will be coming out later on when it's finished. Originally this was only supposed to be two parts, but part two was going too long and I had a much better idea for it to be it's own story. It'll be worth it I promise!

Thank you all for your patient and support with this AU and I hope you all enjoy!

---

The tall white columns of the unending void ended a while back. Dream didn’t know when, but suddenly the hallways opened up to a wide void of opalescent colours. There were shapes and shadows off in the distance that moved around but Dream had no time to focus or make sense of them. He was dragged, by his arm through the seemingly endless spot, never being allowed to slow down. If he started to slack behind or falter a single step, DreamXD yanked his arm and he’d be stumbling to keep up.

The brothers had been walking in silence for probably ten minutes now. Neither said anything. Dream gave a glance up to XD every once in a while, but the anger radiating off his brother was too great for him to find the words. He tried to focus on something else, but his eye would keep wandering back to XD, and take in the marks of battle on him.

His lower right arm was limply hanging by his side. His cloak was torn to near shreds and covered in golden and violet blood. He winced every time he looked at those wounds, but it gave him enough courage to find his voice.

“E…EhexD…” Dream cleared his throat. His sibling didn’t respond. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for-”

“Stop talking.” XD’s snapped.

Dream clamped his lips shut, and just let himself be dragged the rest of the way in silence.

Eventually the landscaped changed. Gone were the white with tiny colourful hints and instead it slowly morphed into a dark blue. The dark blue overtook the white, but left small speckles all dotted about. Some shining or streaking through.

Like a night sky. Dream thought. He was so mesmerised by the stars, his steps faltered and he was yanked back to XD’s side.

“Keep up!” XD hissed.

“Wh-Where are we?” Dream was still too impressed to be scared.

“That’s not important! We’re here…”

Dream looked ahead, expecting to finally see something else grand in this wondrous place, but instead it was a lain out pile of blankets.

The blankets were all different shades of blues and purples. There were a few pillows strewn about between the blankets as well and a clumped up pile of blankets and pillows in the centre.

XD walked over the blankets and pulled Dream along. Dream was more hesitant to step on the cloth with his boots but XD didn’t really gave him a choice. He dragged Dream over the blankets to the big pile in the middle.

Dream didn’t even have time to look at it before XD gave the blanket a swift kick and the blankets jumped. They flailed and kicked about and Dream realised it wasn’t just blankets. There was a person in there.

The person kicked of the blankets and twisted themselves around. They sat up in the sheets pooled around them. They had a black tight turtle neck but their arms covered in flowing fabric that ended at the golden bracer around his wrists. Their hair was an unkempt, the colours fading between a dark and light blue as what seemed like stars streaked through their hair.

It reminded Dream of the realm, but when the person woke up the realm started to change. The night sky instantly faded and was replaced with a dark teal colour stretching out over the realm. It seemed to match the colours streaking down the stranger’s cheeks. Like colourful tear marks, almost.

The person looked around frantically before realising XD was there. “Wh-What is it? Wha-?”

“You’re watching him.” XD spoke before they could even finish.

The person seemed taken aback to the order. He looked incredulously to XD, though most of his expression was hidden by the large but familiar white goggles on his eyes. Eventually the stranger’s attention looked to Dream beside him, taking him in for the first time. He looked over the mortal before the corner of his lip turned up in a scowl.

He turned his bed back to XD then. “Excuse me?” It was less of an asking tone and more of a demand for an answer.

“You’re watching him.” XD repeated, and lifted Dream’s arm slightly as if to point out who the ‘him’ was. “Until I get back, Dream is to stay here and not leave.”

Dream just managed to keep back his gasp, but only because the news of it had shocked him. He honestly wasn’t sure where XD was taking him or for what purpose. But the last thing on his mind was to think XD was taking him to a babysitter. And a stranger no less! Dream’s mind added.

“Oh?” The stranger sat up straighter now. All daze of being awoken was gone and replaced with anger. “Am I to be a babysitter now? I don’t remember becoming one.”

Dream could hear his brother’s fangs grind together. “Just until I get back.” His attention then snapped to Dream, who had to fight back the urge to cower away. Even with the mask hiding his expression, Dream could hear the snarl in his brother’s voice. “You will wait here,” he said and pushed Dream forward to sit down. Dream just caught himself but his legs wobbled under him so he was half sitting.

“I-I’m not a child!” Dream found his voice. The shock had worn off to anger now. To be treated in such a way was embarrassing. “I don’t need minded over!”

“This isn’t babysitting, this is punishment!” XD pushed Dream down till he was sat (half sitting half fallen) on the blanketed ground. “You should be grateful I’m taking you here! I’d lock you in the prison myself if I wasn’t so angry!”

The mention of that dreaded place took all fight out of Dream, and he shut his lips then. So it had been a thought that crossed his brother’s mind. There was a level Dream could get to in XD’s head that meant he deserved to be locked in the prison.

But even if he was silent, the stranger certainly wasn’t. “And I have no say in this?!” The person huffed. “Why am I being punished for something your brother done?!”

“Because I asked you to!” XD snapped, the last of his patience gone and he ended up shouting. Dream had heard XD angry, but he’d never heard him shout like that before. “And you’re supposed to be a friend who wants to help out another friend!” He added, his voice calmer now. “So, please, watch Dream until I get back.”

A long silence settled between XD and the stranger. Dream felt the tension rise like electricity between them, until the stranger huffed. “Fine…” He mumbled. He lay back down in the blankets, pulling some over him again but he seemed to be going back to sleep.

Once that was dealt with, XD sharply turned to Dream. Suddenly all the built up tension seemed directed straight to the blonde mortal, and Dream even flinched when the End God pointed at him.

“You will stay here, with HD, and not move!” He growled. Dream could hear his fang click together, seething with rage. “You better pray no-one else followed you into that stronghold and that yous were the only idiots to go through, otherwise you’re in worse trouble!”

Before Dream could even respond, or even think about what could be considered ‘worse’ right now, XD turned and he left. Disappearing instantly.

Even with XD gone the tension and electrical charge of the air still remained. Dream kept himself as still as possible, afraid to move and encure XD’s wrath again, or annoy the stranger wrapped up in his blankets.

At least Dream knew their name was HD now, though he couldn’t see much conversation happening between them. HD didn’t seem to want to talk or entertain XD’s visit, so it was even less likely he’d put up with Dream’s company.

Dream moved his head slowly and risked looking over to HD still buried in the blankets. They hadn’t seem to have moved since XD left. Maybe they had fallen back asleep, or they were trying to at least.

He hadn’t really been given an order from this HD, though the order from XD was clear. ‘Sit here and don’t move.’

Still, even with the threat of further anger from XD, the restless energy had returned. Dream had calmed down from the shock and fear of his fight with Dragon and facing XD’s wrath, and now it gave way to curiosity. And mischief.

Dream gave another sly look over to HD. He was still wrapped up in his blankets, only his starry hair flowing over the pillows was seen. Surely he was asleep by now. And if he was asleep there’s no way he was going to notice if Dream just wandered off just for a little bit.

He wasn’t allowed to look around when he was being dragged here by XD, but nothing could stop him just taking a harmless look around now. He’d be back way before HD even woke up. No-one would know.

He was curious how far this colourful realm reached. It seemed to fade in from the opalescent walk he was on before, so did that mean it was two different areas? How far did they stretch?

Dream was sure he could find out. The realm lay in a slight yellowish-green hue right now, fading from the teal of earlier and Dream wondered if it would fade into more colours. Or if there was something to set them off.

He had too many questions to just keep still. With a last peek back, Dream unfolded his legs out from under him and slowly stood up. HD didn’t move. Dream half stood up, taking a careful step forward. HD still didn’t move.

Already filled with the confidence he got away with it, Dream looked ahead, trying to remember which direction he and XD had come from and took a few steps forward. He was confident he could make it back to the grand hallway he saw. If he could just…

“UGK!”

Dream felt his hood be yanked back, pulling him down down before he was dragged back, undoing the distance between himself and HD.

“Do not even think about it!” HD hissed behind him. “You think I’d be that dumb and let you wander around by yourself?”

“I-I wasn’t going to go far!” Dream tried to reason while also trying to pull down the collar of his hoodie so he didn’t choke. HD’s grip was strong and he was dragged back all the way before the hand finally let go. Dream turned back but was surprised to see HD was still wrapped in his blankets. He hadn’t even turned around. Dream gave a sceptical was confused and looked behind him to see what had grabbed him.

It was a white floating hand in the process of letting his hoodie go. It was attached to no arm or body, just floating by itself.

“WH-What is THAT?!”

The hand floated to HD’s side before disappearing in a white mist.

“It’s to keep you out of trouble.” HD grumbled. He slightly turned over, looking to Dream through his white goggles. The lenses of them looked like static rather than a darkened lens. “If you try and get away, they’ll drag you back. If you keep trying they will hold you down until XD gets back. Is that clear?”

HD turned back over, this time laying on his front and gathering the pillows under him. “Sit there, be quiet and don’t bother me.”

That was the end of it, according to HD. It was impossible to tell if he’d fallen asleep again, or just pretending like he did last time. Dream watched him for a few seconds before slightly scooting away. He tried moving quieter this time but almost instantly the hand appeared in front of him, and before Dream could move it grabbed his arm and pulled him down.

“Don’t! Move!” HD hissed. “You move again, you’ll regret it. I promise you!”

Dream didn’t want to chance it again. HD sounded mad and the hand that forced him down was a lot rougher than the one before. He - very slowly - sat himself up again and when he didn’t move anymore the hand slowly let go and disappeared. A lot slower this time.

Now Dream was overly curious about the realm, but he no longer had the freedom to move and explore it. Which just made the urge to move that much worse. He crossed his legs over one another, one of them slightly twitching as he waited for…anything.

He supposed the only thing he was looking forward to now was XD returning, and then he’d have to deal with that whole mess. Dream sloughed slightly. His mood soured as he thought of XD returning. He’d still be just as mad and still refuse to listen to Dream’s side of things. Well that was fine. XD never listened before why start now?

Going down this thought process was depressing, but Dream couldn’t distract his mind enough. He tried looking around the sea of soft blankets and pillows, only taking note that the colours were fading into a night sky again but that was it.

Dream was leaning his head over his hand, almost lulling to sleep himself when, finally, something changed.

The distant horizon seemed to mist out and fade from view so Dream wasn’t sure if the shapes were really there or just his eyes playing tricks. He stared at them, for a minute or so and realised they were there. Various shadowed shapes with glowing eyes were watching him from a distance. Few of the shapes were tall, humanoid looking, and others were not. Despite whatever shape they were they all stared with their glowing eyes, watching him.

Dream froze, unsure what to do. The figures were so far in the distance that surely they weren’t a threat, but Dream didn’t know how to deal with them. Were they friendly in this realm or was their fighting? Did HD know these figures?

He thought he was doing well keeping himself calmed enough, but one of the figures just slightly moved. It wasn’t like they lunged forward or anything like that but it was a noticeable move that got Dream’s heart racing and without taking his eyes away he tapped onto HD’s shoulder until he heard them huff.

“I told you to stop bothering me!” HD hissed as he pulled himself up from his pillow.

“There’s people here.” Dream made his voice go quiet. He felt rather foolish until HD suddenly picked himself up from his pillows, and looked to the shadowy figures with urgency.

HD doesn’t move for a few seconds before giving a light shrug with his shoulder. “They’re Gods.”

Dream blinked. “Wh-What?!”

“Other Gods.” HD refluffed his pillow under him. He leaned on it but didn’t bury his face in it like he was going to sleep. “They’re just checking you out. We don’t get many mortals through here.”

“Th-There are Gods here?!”

“Well you’re in the Godly Realm, so I would hope so!” HD huffed, like it was the most obvious thing. “They’re just having a look and they’ll leave.”

Yet despite HD’s confidence when Dream looked over, HD kept his eyes onto the distant figures. Dream tried to look at the Gods, but also keep his eye on HD. He didn’t know what was normal here and only had HD’s reactions to judge. During one of the times he glanced out to the shapes he saw another one of them move closer.

Dread filled Dream’s heart. He wanted to reach for his axe but was horribly reminded XD took his weapons from him. He hated feeling so defenceless.

He felt something grab onto the arm of his hoodie, and Dream looked down to see the white hand had appeared again. It gripped tightly onto Dream’s arm but it wasn’t like before, when it was pulling him. This time it was firm hand on him, offering support rather than harshly moving him.

The kindness confused Dream, but he didn’t have long to ponder on it. When he looked back up, there were fewer figures and even more going off to leave. Eventually they were all done, faded further into the horizon and the hand disappeared.

“See?” HD folded his arms under his head. “They left.” He sounded confident but Dream could also hear the sigh of relief in his words.

“Will they be back?” Dream gave a last look around the open horizon, suddenly not liking how open the space was.

“Others might, those that haven't seen you and want to. But they won’t come near here. No-one comes near me, and they’ll know you’re XD’s and Drista’s brother so nothing will happen to you.”

When he was certain there was nothing around, Dream relaxed again. Or relaxed as much as he could. He noticed HD seemed more alert. They were turned slightly on their side, and one hand rubbed under their goggles.

“Are…does that mean you…?”

“Yes, I am a God. I know. I hide it well.” HD huffed, but his voice was lighter than it was before. Perhaps that was even some attempt at humour. “Well I doubt I’m sleeping with you here.”

“Is that all you do?” Dream asked.

HD slowly looked around and made a waved off gesture to the area around them. “Well it would be a shame to let all these blankets and pillows go to waste.”

Dream held back a snort of laughter, only because he wasn’t sure if HD wanted it taken as a joke. But the starry haired God’s lips turned up in a small smile as he pushed himself to sit up.

It was hard to judge how to act when HD was awake. When they were asleep all Dream had to do was keep quiet but now he wasn’t sure what his goal was. They were hard to judge and even harder to read with half their expressions hidden by the large white goggles.

The goggles looked strikingly familiar. And the shape of HD’s face reminded Dream of George in a way. It wasn’t an exact copy, like a clone or twin, but there was something similar about them in the shape of their jaw and nose. While that fact should have raised questions, it actually made Dream feel a little more relaxed. A reminder of George was better to have around if he couldn’t have George here with him.

Was that the reason George became so close to XD?

“What did you even do? To get XD so mad?”

HD’s voice pulled Dream out of his thoughts. He was thankful for it. “I uh… I went to the End.”

HD was setting up the pillows closest to him so he could sit up, and he paused midway through setting down one of the pillows. “Oh, yeah, I see why now.” He sounded surprised. “If it had been anyone else he would have killed them. I can see why he’s so mad .”

Dream felt the same agitation rear it’s head again. “Well he shouldn’t be! It’s my home too. I have a right to go back.”

“Did you want to go back home? Or did you want to kill the Dragon?”

Dream opened his mouth then quickly closed it. His cheeks burned red when HD gave a satisfied smile.

“I-If I could have gotten home without killing her, I would have!”

“Yes yes, but then you wouldn’t be the hero who saved the End.” HD settled onto the pillows, lounging over the pillows rather than laying on them. “Did you even consider that you might have given the dragon a way out to the Overworld? Or, did you even consider the possibility that you could have died?”

“I wouldn’t have died!” Dream snapped. “I wouldn’t have!”

“Really? So XD just came across you having a stroll in the End, is that it?”

“I would have killed the dragon!”

“Would have and would not have. You seem to have a lot of explanations for how it would have went. So should XD have left you? Were you just moments away from landing the killing blow?”

Dream opened his mouth again and then quickly shut it again. He didn’t know how to answer that one without admitting that HD was right. If XD hadn’t turned up when he did, he and George would have been dead. Burned alive by the fire or even if they did somehow avoid it, Dragon was being constantly healed and Dream and George would get tired eventually.

“Then what was your plan when she had died? Did you think XD would be thrilled you risked so much and put others in danger?”

“Yes!” Dream snapped, surprising himself with his answer. “Yes! Then they’d finally listen to me and take me seriously! Then they might actually pay attention to me again!”

An awkward silence fell over the two as the words said couldn’t be taken back. Dream’s face felt hot and he wished more than ever he had his mask to hide away in. It was worse as he couldn’t really tell what expression HD was making under his goggles and thick hair. He almost looked stoic, or unimpressed, but his shoulders slouched a little with his sigh.

“Ah…” The God finally spoke. “You didn’t want to be the people’s hero. You wanted to be a hero to XD.”

It was stated as a matter of fact and even Dream couldn’t find the fire to argue with it. He just looked away, with his face burning. His eyes stung with unfallen tears that he quickly blinked away.

Everything had been simpler explaining his plans to George, because while George bickered with him and said it was dumb, he would have followed Dream. Not from hazardous loyalty, but because there was an understanding between them that even if things did go wrong, they could have worked it out together. They were good at adapting to things and handling the unexpected.

HD’s elbow rested on one of the propped up pillows and he leaned his head over his hand as he watched Dream. Dream shyly looked back once he was sure his eyes were dry, but the static lens of HD’s goggles were cold to stare into. “Seems to me you didn’t have a plan at all, little champion. You just had a plan of what would happen after it.”

Unsure what to do with himself, Dream gave a half hearted shrug. Maybe he had said too much, but it wasn’t like HD was going to understand him anyway. The God couldn’t help or hinder the situation anymore so nothing was lost.

His eyes went to wander off until he noticed HD was still staring at him. Or, he assumed he was under the goggles.

It must have been a good few seconds of silence before HD spoke. “You’re so much like XD.” He breathed.

Dream shuffled under the comparison. “Well…y-yeah, we’re siblings.”

HD just hummed at that. They stared for a few seconds more before suddenly pushing himself to sit up. “You should change your clothes. You’re a mess.”

Green eyes blinked rapidly in surprise to HD’s sudden mood switch before Dream looked down at himself. He hadn’t realised how scuffed and ripped his clothes were. One of the worst rips was on his legs, tearing through his trousers to his shins. It was probably from the dragon’s teeth when she shook him off after stabbing her eye.

“I don’t have a change of clothes.” Dream pointed out, but HD seemed to have that fixed.

He was sat up, and suddenly clothes materialised on his arms. A soft short-sleeved green tunic and black sweatpants it looked like. “Will these fit?” HD asked, but he had already pushed the top up against Dream’s chest as though checking the measurements himself.

“I…y-yes…”

Dream quickly changed out of his shredded clothes and into the new ones HD had got for him. Or…made for him? Either way, the clothes fit him perfectly. The material of the top was soft, Dream kept touching over it just to feel. The trousers were a little rougher in feel but still very comfortable. Dream felt more relaxed and when he looked back to HD, there was another set of pillows propped up beside him. HD pat them and Dream, shyly, scooted over to sit by the God.

“Thank you…” Dream said.

“You might as well be comfortable, since I guess it will be a while before XD comes back.” HD shrugged. “He’ll be…oh! You’re hurt.”

Dream looked down to where HD had pointed. There was an ugly bruise and deep cut down his left arm, just under the sleeve. It was caked with dried in blood and there was another cut just over his wrist. Dream hadn’t even realised he was injured. Now that he looked at them he could feel the sting of the cuts and the aches of the bruise before his body followed suit. It was like it suddenly remembered what pain was.

“Do you want healed?” HD offered.

“Uh…y-yeah. If you have bandages I can do it myself.”

“No no, I can just heal you.” HD said it so casually and expectedly, like Dream should have known. Dream looked over to see HD holding out his hand, expectantly waiting for the arm to be given. “Give it here.”

Dream was hesitant before giving his arm over to HD’s waiting hands. The starry haired God held the arm in one hand, while the other covered over the wound.

The hand over the wound was warm, and Dream tensed himself. He remembered being healed by XD and remembered how much it tickled. His skin prickled just from the memory and he was expecting the same feeling to follow, but it never did. HD’s hand was just warm and a few seconds later he pulled his hand back and the wound was gone. The bruises had all faded as well.

“There you go. Where else are you injured?” HD let go of Dream’s arm. “I saw a bruise on your ribs earlier.”

There was a dull pain thumping against Dream’s ribs and side just from it being mentioned. He pulled up the tunic, looking down to the bruise that was currently purpling.

Even despite nothing happening with the last wound, Dream still tensed when HD pressed his warm hands on his ribs. He moved his hands to cover more of the bruise and Dream flinched.

“You’re tense.” HD stated, still concentrating on the wound.

“S-Sorry…” Dream swallowed back the nervous giggles in his throat. The touch didn’t tickle at all. In fact it felt nice. But Dream was just anticipating himself up for tickles that weren’t happening. His skin felt overly sensitive.

HD hummed lowly. He was still healing over the last of the bruise when he asked. “Has XD ever healed you before?”

“Uh…yeah.” Dream gave a slow nod. “A few times before. Why?”

“Just thinking out loud.” HD excused and carried on until the bruise was all gone.

Dream gave an experimental poke to where the bruise was and there was no pain. He sighed in relief.

“Anywhere else?” HD asked, but he seemed to be expecting the answer.

Dream gave himself a look over. The cut on his wrist was already gone. He thought he could feel a bruise earlier by his hip but when he poked there it was fine. His eyes travelled down to his leg, and he could feel the sting of a cut there. He lifted up the leg of his sweatpants and was relieved the cut wasn’t as bad as he thought. It wasn’t deep, but it was starting to bleed again down his shin.

“Can you heal that? Please?” Dream looked over and HD had already moved himself down.

He took the injured leg in his hand and the other covered over the wound, as normal. It stung a bit to move the leg but when Dream felt the heat, he started to relax.

Dream let his guard down too soon. The moment he started to relax, a tingling feeling prickled on his skin. Like light pulses of electricity coursing through his skin, starting from the wound and working it’s way out. Dream couldn’t help the jolt in his leg, alerting HD.

“What’s wrong?” The God’s voice was soft, unusually warm.

“Not…nothing.” Dream controlled the laugh welling up in his chest. “Just sore…” He quickly excused.

“Sorry. I’ll go slower.”

No no no! Not slower! Dream wanted to yell, but he controlled himself. All he could do was bite down on his lip, and try to distract himself from his tickly shins. HD surely must have felt his skin jumping under his touch.

Finally it was over. The cut was closed and HD pulled his hand back. It took a moment for the tingling to die down but when it did Dream sighed in relief.

“Oh! You’ve got a cut on your foot.”

Dream had no time to respond before his ankle was grabbed. His foot was yanked up and onto HD’s lap, pulling him to lie down. Going from sitting to suddenly laying on his back confused Dream for a moment, and he hardly had time to scramble up and make a grab for HD’s arms before his hand got closer. “Wait wait! N-No! There’s no cut on my f-foot!”

“Of course there is.” HD said so casually. “I’m looking at it right now. You’re not calling me a liar are you?”

“I…” Dream knew no good way to answer that, and he had no time to as HD’s fingers touched onto his heel.

Before he had at least a few seconds between the heat before the tickling started. Now they came together. He felt his foot grow warm and the tingling started instantly. Spreading out from his heel and over his foot, tiny ticklish shocks ran over his skin and tickled his nerves.

“S-Stop! Stohohop!” Dream couldn’t stop his leg from trying to kick.

“What’s wrong, Dream?” HD’s voice did well to sound concerned, but when Dream looked at him the God was grinning. He moved his fingers up from his heel, to Dream’s arch and the very thin veil of determination Dream had was lost.

He threw his head back into a laugh and kicked out his other leg. He was trying in part not to kick at HD, but it was hard to control when his very survival nature was to get away from the tickling no matter what.

“PLEHEHEAHASE Nohohot thehehere not thehehehere! S-STohohop!”

“Your feet are so ticklish, and XD’s feet aren’t ticklish at all. So you’re not an exact clone of your brother.”

A deep red rushed to Dream’s cheeks. Somehow being compared to his sibling in that way was horribly flustering, but it also told him that XD had been tickled by HD before. Dream would have loved to think of that more, but HD’s fingers travelled up to his toes and he jolted up to try reach the God’s hands.

“No no no. None of that.”

Dream was pulled again, forcing him on his back again, only this time he had his leg pulled up into the air, keeping his foot completely out of reach. Dream looked up to see his ankle being held up by one of the white hands, then another appeared right by his foot and immediately began dragging a finger down, from his toes to the heel of his foot.

He laughed from the tickling and partly in shock. He did not expect another one of those hands. How many could HD make?

“Where else are you ticklish, little champion?” HD asked.

Dream’s cheeks grew pink from the laughter, but now they felt red form the nickname. “N-Nohoho whehere?” He tittered. The hand up by his foot wiggled over his toes, tickling under a few of them before slowly scritching down. When it reached his arch he pulled and wiggled onto his side.

“You’re a bad lair.” HD hummed. “Now, let’s see.”

Both Dream’s wrists were grabbed and hoisted up over his head. A little squeak came out that was probably supposed to be pleading but words were lost to him. When he felt he had just enough breath to speak again, it suddenly turned to a scream as his tunic was lifted up to show his stomach.

“Oh, it looks like your tummy needs healing.” HD said, his voice not even straining at all from holding Dream down. It probably didn’t feel like anything to the God.

“N-Nohoho it doesehehen’t!” Dream giggled. His first response was to hide his stomach, or cover over his face but with his hands trapped he didn’t have that luxury. Instead he twisted his head to hide in his arm, though it hardly covered much. He knew his red cheeks were still visible.

“Oh yes it does! It’s all jittery. It’s clearly in pain.”

“Ihihit’s cause y-yohohohour t…t…”

The words stopped, his laugh muffled as Dream pursed and bit his lips together. HD’s eyebrow raised so slightly and the hand tickling over his foot gave a good taser right into his arch, already marked out as his weak point. His laughter came spilling out of him.

“Can you not say it?”

The tickling on his foot died down. Not completely gone though. The fingers were just lightly tracing over the ball of his foot and down to his heel. They deliberately avoided his arch, saving that spot till they really wanted him to laugh.

“Wh-Whahat?” Dream tried to play dumb.

It did not work. “’Tickle’. Can you not say the word tickle while you’re being tickled? Can you say it at all?”

“Shuhush!” Dream hid into his arm again. “I cahahan!”

“Say it.”

Dream’s lips clamped again. Even the thought of saying it made him giggle into his arm, followed by a few more giggles when the hand on his foot wiggled a finger over his heel again and again. “Plehehease stohop!”

“Stop what? What do you want me to stop doing?”

“You know! Yohohou-!”

“No I don’t. You need to tell me.”

Even if Dream wanted to, his body physically wouldn’t let him. It felt like his tongue tried to physically tie itself into a knot whenever he tried to say the word. It was embarrassing, and mortifying to admit how much the word effected him.

Keeping quiet had never worked before and of course it didn’t work now. The finger on his foot went right over his arch. It didn’t tickle yet but it was a clear warning of what was to come. One of HD’s own hand lay over his stomach. It slowly began to heat up, bringing it to a warm temperature.

“P-Plehease…”

“I’ll stop when you can say the work ‘tickle’. That’s fair.”

“Nohoho it’s noo-OHOHOHOHOHOHO!”

Fingers scribbled over his arches and stomach. HD’s hand moved in a circle around Dream’s tummy spreading the tingling all around but avoiding his bellybutton with each loop. The hand on his foot scribbled up and down but always went back to his arch, never letting it go without tickles for so long.

“NAHAAHA! PLEHEEEEhehehease! H-Hehehe Dehehehehe! D-DohoHOhoHOHON’T!”

“Don’t what, little champion?”

“YohOHOhoHOhohou! Knn-!”

The ephemeral hand on his foot tickled right under the ball of his foot. A sensitive spot that turned his laughter up into silent shrieks, only for a moment until it came roaring out and his other leg tried in vain to kick against the white hand.

HD’s fingers on his tummy found a terribly sensitive spot just under Dream’s bellybutton and focused there. The tingling tickles had faded, now just being tickled by HD’s kneading and pinching.

“You better say the word, Dream. I don’t think you can last much more of this.” HD spoke matter of factly, like he wasn’t the one absolutely destroying the mortal with tickles.

“Ihihihi cahahan’t!” Dream squealed and tried to hide in his arms again.

“No no, none of that now.” A hand grabbed onto Dream’s chin and pulled his face out of his hiding spot. Dream made a scream of protest between his laughs. He tried pulling away, but it was another white hand that held him, and it had no sympathy for Dream’s plight. “I think you’ve hidden too much.”

“ThaA-AHAHAT’S NOHOHOT FAHAHAHAHAHAIHIHIR!”

“You better say it then. I think your face is gonna explode from how red it’s getting.”

Dream didn’t want to think of how red his face was getting, or how much the fingers tickling over his foot were focusing on his arch. HD’s fingers were just inching ever closer to his bellybutton, and when the nail just brushed along the edge of his bellybutton, Dream’s back arched and screamed.

“TIHIIHIHICKLED! TIHIHIHICKLED! I’M BEING TICKLEHEHEHEHED! YOHOHOUR TIHIHICKLING MEHEHEHEHE! STOHOHOHOHOP!”

In HD’s defence the tickling stopped by the second time he uttered the word. The hand tickling over Dream’s foot pulled back and faded out and HD pulled his hand back from Dream’s stomach.

“Hmm…alright. You managed to say it.” HD sounded disappointed, though Dream could only half hear him with his panting breaths and racing heartbeat.

He was given a moment of peace to catch his breath and let all the tingles leave his body. When he finally caught his breath with a sigh and his brain settled down, he realised his leg was still being held up in the air. His wrists had been let go, and he brought his arms down in defence when he looked up to HD. The God was still looking down at him, with a sly smile that made Dream nervous, and sweat run down his neck.

Dream opened his mouth to speak, his voice was shaky before he even tried to speak; but HD spoke first.

“What’s this called then?” HD moved before Dream could answer, or ask what. They took in a huge breath before pressing their lips to Dream’s stomach.

They moved so fast Dream didn’t have any chance to protect himself Suddenly his top was lifted and HD had leaned in before Dream could realise what was going on.

The raspberry started in the middle of his stomach and rippled out over his skin, strumming his nerves like a guitar and sending the tickles rippling throughout his body. Dream made a scream, though it was jumbled between his laughter and screeching. His arms flailed wildly before finally getting on the same page of defending his stomach and he tried to push at HD’s shoulders.

For as spry as the sleepy God looked, he was undoubtedly strong. Dream couldn’t move him even an inch. HD was so bothered by the attempt he pulled back, taking in another shorter breath and blew again over Dream’s tummy. This time a little bit up so it was under the blonde’s ribs.

“HeheHEHEHEHEehehe DehEHEHEHE! S-STOP STOHOHOHOP STOHOP! PLEHEHEHEASE!”

HD pulled back a little more, but mercy was not on his mind. He was grinning widely, a maddening look of having too much fun to stop. “Tell me what I’m doing, then I’ll stop.” His voice got familiarly high pitched in a hyper tone.

“RAHh- Y-YOHOhou’re bloHOHOwing rahahasbeherries!” Dream quickly gasped between HD’s attack, taking in large gulps of air when he could.

“Well well well. So you can say that just fine.” HD’s voice overly imitated being impressed, and Dream knew it wasn’t over. He let out a low whine which turned into giggles as HD grinned again.

“What’s this then?” HD asked and then Dream’s blood ran cold.

The God opened his mouth, this time showing off his fangs. They weren’t as long as XD’s, but they were just as rounded and thick. Dream’s eyes went wide just looking at them and he had no time to shout out before those fangs were on him.

The fangs touched below Dream’s bellybutton. They nibbled along the bottom of his stomach, circling up to the side of Dream’s tummy, and that’s when Dream’s mind stop keeping track of where the fangs were and fried into full blown panic.

His throat felt like it ripped from his shriek. Words or letters at least jumbled into his laughter but even he couldn’t make out what he was trying to say. His whole body was in survival mode.

One of his legs was was still held up, but the other flailed with his arms. His knee hit onto HD’s back and his hands were beating and clawing into HD’s shoulders as he hoped he was pleading though the roaring and screeching laughter.

The tickling stopped not long after the knee went into the God’s back, though Dream’s laughter didn’t go down until his ankle was let go and he could curl into himself and protect his tummy.

All of his nerves felt fried and jittery. He gasped for as much air as his lungs could ask for, and only when his breathing got under control did he realise HD was talking.

“Are you dead?! Please don’t be dead!”

“I…I’m nohot dead…”

“Thank Prime…” HD breathed out a sigh of relief. He worked his hands under Dream’s armpits, earning a panicked whine from the blonde but he could do little more than wiggle and curl up more. “Hush, you baby. I’m only moving you.”

Dream was lifted from his protective curled position. He felt his back pressed against HD’s chest, and the God’s arms wrap around his chest. The pillows and blankets under them were moved and quickly rearranged by the ephemeral hands. They patted down the last pillow before HD pulled Dream and himself down to lay on their side, Dream still in the God’s arms.

“I thought I’d honestly killed you.” HD’s voice mixed with worry and a huffy tone. “Then XD would have absolutely killed me.”

A twisted part of Dream’s brain wanted to dispute that fact, and say XD wouldn’t care, but he quickly shook that thought of his head. It settled like a dark weight in his chest, but he quickly spoke to distract himself from it. “Well…you went at me with your fangs!”

“XD used his fangs on me and they don’t make me react like that.”

Dream processed that information with two outcomes. HD was ticklish, and XD had tickled them before. He would have loved to explore that fact further, but the softness of the pillows and the sudden smell of lavender was overwhelming him.

“God you are his brother. You even get sleepy after your tickles too.”

Dream opened his mouth, wanting to deny that fact and also wonder aloud how HD had tickled XD before, but all that came out was a long yawn. His body stretched as well, comfortably clicking his bones and melting him more into the soft sheets and HD’s arms.

“When…hmm…when will XD come back?” Dream asked, his voice already slurred with sleep.

“He won’t be back for a while, you’ve got time to sleep.” HD assured him. Dream didn’t want to question why the God was being so affectionate to him in fear he’d stop. HD seemed to switch between sudden annoyance to sudden fondness. It reminded Dream of a cat.

It reminded Dream of George.

Dream wanted to wonder more, but the thoughts weren’t enough to keep his interest awake and he drifted off to sleep with HD’s gentle purrs against his back.

---

Dream was roused from his sleep with a hand gently shaking his shoulder. He opened his eyes with a whine, blinked the sleep from his vision and got his bearings. HD’s arms were still around him, but looser. The realm was in a dark blue night sky again, and the blankets under him were still warm. And XD stood in front of him.

The tall God stood above the two, with his mask still on. His cloak was still tattered and a mess, and his one arm still hung limply. Dream tried not to stare at it, but his eyes couldn’t help flicking to it.

“Get up…” XD voice was quiet, and tired.

Dream gave a look back to HD. He opened his mouth, but was quickly shushed by XD.

“Don’t wake, HD. I don’t want to bother him any more than I already have.”

HD’s arms weren’t exactly holding onto Dream, so it was easy for him to slip out of them. Even if he felt bad about leaving HD without saying goodbye.

“I’m taking you back to the Overworld.” XD said as he took his brother’s arm to help him stand.

The thought of that panicked Dream before he could rationalise his mind. Anxiety rose up his spine and stopped himself half way getting up. “W-Where?” He blurted out, not catching his volume.

“Shh!” XD hissed. “Quiet.”

“Where are you going to take me?!”

“Hush!” XD snapped. “I’m taking you to George, that’s all.” His voice was softer at the end, not at all like the venom he had before. His whole demeanour now seemed calmer than the rage he was in before, though Dream couldn’t tell if it was from XD’s mood calming down or just making sure HD could sleep. “Keep quiet. You’re going to wake HD.”

“Too late…”

HD’s sleepy voice mumbled from his blankets. The night sky realm faded out to a soft blue as the starry haired God turned on his back and rubbed his eyes under his goggles. “You’re back…” He mumbled to XD, and seemed to really wake up when he got a look at the other God. He paused before pushing himself to sit up. “You’re exhausted.”

“I’m fine.” XD quickly shrugged off. “I just need to take Dream home and-”

“Nope.” HD cut in. They pushed themselves up in one fluid move and now Dream found himself stood between XD and HD. “I’ll take him home.”

It was a surprising offer even to Dream. HD didn’t seem like the kind to leave his nest often, and it must have been a big deal as XD seemed stunned for a moment and his voice stuttered.

“U-Uhh…H-HD no. No you don’t have to do that.”

“No I don’t. But I’m doing it because I’m nice.” HD stepped forward to Dream’s side. “I can teleport there easily and drop him off. In the meantime,” he pointed up to XD. “You’re going to park yourself on those pillows and wait till I get back.”

Dream’s eyes flicked between the two Gods curiously. HD was speaking with such authority, and XD was surprisingly responding to it. Dream had never known XD to be anything other than the powerful, unwavering older brother, but with HD he seemed meek and more docile.

“I… Are you sure you can take him?” XD asked.

“Yes! Prime sake it’s not that hard! I can drop him off and come straight back here. You just sit and rest.”

The mask blocked his expression but Dream could read his brother easily. XD was torn, debating with himself on what to do. His head cast down slightly and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other before he looked at Dream. “Are you fine with that?”

Part of Dream wasn’t, just for the chance to talk to XD. If XD took him to George, it would be easier to explain their actions and get the God to listen to them. But XD looked exhausted and his still unmoving arm churned Dream’s stomach.

“That’s fine.” Dream nodded.

XD thought on it for a moment longer before nodding as well. “A-Alright.”

HD seemed pleased, and slapped his hands onto Dream’s shoulder. “Great. Now, go sit down. I’ll take Dream home and be right back.”

XD complied to the instructions, moving past the two and slowly sitting down. Dream noticed they were wincing as they moved. “J-Just be careful.”

“I’m not a novice! I have done this before.” HD seemed to roll his eyes, and focused down onto Dream. “Where am I taking you?”

Dream opened his mouth to answer before realising he didn’t have a good way to answer. He wanted to ask if HD knew coordinates but HD had materialised a map in his hands like it was nothing, and held it out to Dream.

“Here. Point where I’m taking you.”

The map wasn’t an area Dream was familiar with. It covered a wide area of forest and meadows, but no clear landmark. And then Dream blinked and the map slowly changed. It melted from it’s old picture, forming into a new shape. The forests were cut away. Squares and shapes of all sizes took it’s place and it began to look familiar.

The SMP! Dream thought, amazed. It was a very zoomed out map, but it nearly covered most of the SMP area, and Dream could see the red mushroom colour theme of Kinoko Kingdom.

“Here…” Dream pointed at the map. “But I need to go to a specific place. It’s like…”

The map changed again as though responding to Dream’s words. The images morphed again and instead of looking out over all the SMP it was zoomed in to more detail to Kinoko Kingdom. Dream would have been more amazed had he not seen George’s cottage on the edge of the kingdom, nestled in the dark oak trees and suddenly all Dream wanted to do was get home as soon as possible.

“There. That cottage right there.” Dream pointed.

HD looked at the spot Dream had pointed out. He did nothing for a long moment and Dream wasn’t sure if the God was just thinking or charging up some power. Just when he thought about asking, HD grabbed at his arm and he was teleported.

HD’s teleportation was very different from XD’s. With XD was a like a quick journey through an air tunnel to an abrupt stop, but HD’s was softer. It was like stepping into a pool of water, not too cold but enough to feel the pass of something over his body and then suddenly he was there, back on the Overworld.

It was dark like the dead of night and the dark oak trees were shaking their leaves softly to the wind. The smell of flowers and mushrooms filled the air and HD let go of Dream’s arm.

A light suddenly shone though the window of George’s cottage. Dream could hear his friend shout something and then the door was flung open.

The cuts and scrapes George sustained during the fight were cleaned up and somewhat covered. His mismatched eyes were wide and sunken and the mushroom blush over his cheeks was almost gone. Clearly he had not slept, and yet despite his haggard look, his eyes lit up and he ran to Dream to pull him into the tightest hug.

“I thought XD had taken you back to the prison!” George cried. “I thought you were gone again!”

Dream’s arms went around George so naturally and he felt himself relax and almost fall into his friend’s arm. Waves of emotions, both happy and remorseful, swept over him and made his tears very confusing, but he couldn’t care. He was with George again and everything was right.

“Where did XD take you?” George pulled himself back, taking himself out of Dream’s arms and Dream just about held himself back from protesting. “What happened? Did… What are you wearing?!”

Dream blinked and looked down to himself. Of course, he was still in the clothes HD gave him.

HD!

Dream turned, ready to apologise, but there was no-one there. HD was gone without a trace of ever being there. Dream gave a last look around before his eyes fell on George again, and thoughts of HD were gone. His only focus was George.

“Dream? What happened?”

“I… In a minute.” Dream said and took George’s hand. “I’ll explain everything but…right now I just need to lie down.”

The two went in, exchanging more tearful words and happy exclamations between them, then they fell asleep in each others arms with nothing being explained.

#dsmp tickle #mcyt tickle #lee!dream #ler!georgehd #godsiblingau #covenofwords

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f1crecs · 10 months

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Fic Rec List - Rare Pairings (Part Two)

you might also enjoy : rare pairings (part one)

if your fic is on this list and you don’t want it to be, please let me know and I will remove it immediately, no questions asked. I have contacted most of the authors on this list, but sometimes people fall through the gaps - just pop me a message🤍

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hello, @singsweetmelodies my love. anything for you ❗️ I hope you enjoy these ❤️

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'Yuki laughs, knocks his shoulder into Alex’s ribs, and then proceeds to name all the autumnal blooms as they go: tall yet dainty kosumosu in white and red and pink, a crimson swath of spindly spider lilies, the quintessential poofy chrysanthemums in every color. Pink peonies and classic suisen, both of which Yuki tells him are blooming early: “They're winter flowers normally.” Alex doesn't stand a chance retaining any of this information but he wishes, suddenly, that he did.'

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'Pierre hummed. "You know, I dream about your mouth,” he said, and Carlos burned. His fingers trembled'

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'In this light, there are not enough shadows for any secrets to hide behind. Not enough creases for fond looks to slip between. Too bright to see the quiet glow of embers, too loud for his mind to kindle them into anything more.'

George/Yuki

nsfw: whatever people say i am, that’s what i’m not by @clownfairy | E | 6.5k George and Yuki navigate their relationship. This is a fantastic fic - the characterisation and dialogue are on point; natural and funny and so very easy to read. The Yuki characiterisation in particular is superb. This pairing and this story just works. One thing I really, really love about this author's writing is their ability to balance humour with emotion. It hits perfectly every time.

'George drops his façade in favor of eyeing Yuki where he’s leaned over the kitchen counter, weight resting on crossed arms. Yuki’s stomach does its George thing, this flutter of embarrassment combined with something else.'

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henrysglock · 4 months

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Patty being the one who makes Henry want to be a better person is so funny to me because that bit specifically stems from the fact that she's dropping mixed signals re; unconditional love the same way his mother does. He's still got hope that she might be able to give him that love he craves from his mother, which makes him want to be a better person so he might be "worthy" of it. Patty gives Henry a healthier version of the mixed signals Virginia gives him. She's caring and accepting up until a point, and then she turns on him at the last minute, despite "loving" him and despite seeing that something is clearly amiss.

It's literally so funny (it kills the man) when you think about it, because with Mr. Newby/the attic attack, Patty just, essentially, leaps right from

"Henry, you're a miracle!"

to:

"Hm. Yeah. This was all Henry's fault. It was all definitely deliberate, too, and he's definitely stalking me/out to kill me for...??? reasons. Because he's Henry. IDK. Math is mathing for sure."

There's no:

"Henry was trying to stop me from going through with that plan to use his powers. Maybe there was a reason for that? Maybe he was trying to warn me that it's dangerous for us both. So maybe he isn't what's dangerous about this, maybe he's just a vessel for something else, something he struggles to control. Maybe that's why he straight up begged my father to get me out of the attic when he showed up to collect me as things went wrong."

despite her supposedly talking Henry through beating the Shadow in the attic. (Which...I don't think she ever actually helped Henry with the attic possession. I think Henry made that all up to save himself.)

There's also no:

"Holy shit, Henry just disappeared after this whole debacle? Last time I saw him, he was half-aware on the floor of the attic. Is he even alive? Does anyone know where he is?"

either, which is something we even got from Joyce and Hopper.

Joyce and Hopper care more about Henry's wellbeing after the attic incident than Patty does, because she veers directly into being terrified of Henry...despite her supposedly having confessed her love to him while witnessing him fighting off possession!

"2+2 = George Washington" type math going on here.

Patty tells Henry early on that whatever powers he has might be a miracle rather than a mistake, only to veer directly into "Henry's a monster. He's going to hunt me down and kill me" each time.

Mixed signals.

And then when she learns better, when Mr. Newby tells her about the Shadow and she goes to find Henry/makes plans to run away with him, all Brenner has to do is tell her about the Creel murders and she's suddenly against Henry again! Despite knowing about the Shadow and about the conditions Brenner had Henry under in the lab!

There was no:

"Did Henry have a choice? What really happened here? What were the circumstances? This doesn't sound right, it sounds like you might have your fingers in all this, Dr. Brenner. Was Henry cornered into this situation?"

It's just:

Mixed signals.

It's not solid love, and it never was.

(This is why Will's exorcism succeeded, too. He had unconditional love on all sides, regardless of the fucked up things the Shadow had him doing. Joyce and Mike didn't care that Will sent all those soldiers to their deaths, they just cared about helping Will. Jonathan felt guilty that he wasn't there to help handle Will. They were all afraid for Will, not of Will.)

#in which i posit: henry creel would have kicked the shadow's ass out of his head so damn fast if he had even a LICK of self esteem #if henry creel believed he was worthy of love and worth fighting for we wouldn't have a show. period.

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smolandweirdwriter · 2 months

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Serafina and the Black Cloak Reread Thoughts

I forgot that the book takes place in 1899 for some reason, but regardless I'm very eager to see how that's handled (since I read it when I was much younger, I doubt I would have picked up on that). but I mean that's just fascinating given the history of the civil war (Cornelius Vanderbilt was a union man--not in it himself, but donated a giant steamship worth about 1 million USD). Also fun fact: George Vanderbilt paid his staff New York wages, which were higher than Asheville wages-- up to the equivalent of $73-ish dollars for the highest working members.

sera and her pa are adorable! little serafina not wanting to eat her veggies is my favorite thing & in a modern au he would definitely be the kinda guy to mix spinach into her brownies to try and trick her into eating vegetables

also serafina first line: "Did." do with that what you will

can serafina get rabies? she says she's been bitten by rats before...

love the sprinkling of 1890s southern dialect lmao

SHE'S THE CRC!

I forgot how good the imagery in this book is!! the descriptions of sounds and nature are incredible!!

mr Vanderbilt has over 22 THOUSAND BOOKS that's the kinda life goal I aspire to

serafina made up stories after reading she's just like me for

au where serafina is a PI & part-time novelist perchance?? (Braeden is a vet ofc)

Sera's pa: if anybody ever asks you who you are or where you're from, you don't answer, got it?

Sera: got it

Sera, the second she meets Braeden: hi I'm serafina here's my social security number

OH BRAEDEN FIRST DESCRIPTION WHAT "... or she'd see their twelve-year-old nephew riding his horse across the grounds, with his sleek black dog running alongside." (p. 12)

"Sometimes she dreamed of wearing fancy dresses and ribbons in her hair and shiny shoes on her feet" props to Robert Beatty for not making her have internalized misogyny and hating "girlie" things. the main fight scene is done in a dress if I recall and I'm so ready to read it

she mentions Braeden a lot (calls him "the young master" or "the nephew" but still, good foreshadowing)

awww poor sera wants a real family but also loves her pa *sigh* EMOTIONAL CONFLICT

sera describing the basement as "hers"!!!

the butler's 11 year old assistant gobbling cookies in the middle of the night is so real im sorry. but also sera standing in the shadow watching him & pretending they're friends chatting is gonna make me cry

oooh the rats and bugs all fleeing from cracks in the walls when the man in the black cloak arrives!!!

mr Thorne first line: "Don't worry. We're going right in here..." creepy lil shit

"her legs felt like explosions of speed" idk why but that line made me laugh. the book is so well-written but for some reason that line just feels very, idk, childish? it kinda took me out of the experience but maybe that's just me

"friends had to help friends. she didn't know much about life, but she knew that." she doesn't even know the girl but considers them friends and wants to help her. serafina seems to think Braeden is kinder than she is, but honestly I don't think that's true. I think Braeden is more willing to trust people, but serafina is more willing to sympathize with them, & I think she has preconceptions of people in power being bad (mr v, mr Thorne-- though the latter turned out to be true--rowena, etc) which turns out false

"A tall man in a black cloak and hood, his hands stained with blood" we have our first Mr Thorne description folks!!

"Just stay still, and this will all be over," he said, pulling her toward him. Serafina suddenly realized she'd made a dreadful mistake. This was far more than she could handle." oh god the places my mind instantly went to? dark, awful places. this book is disturbing and I'm inly 19 pages in-- how did I read this so gleefully as a kid?

"...as if the man wasn't of his own mind but possessed by a demented, ravenous demon" I don't quite remember but isn't it true that the cloak can speak to the wearer? so did it take over mr Thorne at some point? did hearing that voice all the time affect him and further corrupt him? did he ever get confused when he took the cloak off, maybe in the beginning, and think perhaps he didn't want to put it back on again, but in the end the urge for power and youth was too great? oooh angsty fanfic ideas.....

"Death was so near that she could see its blackness and hear the screams of the children who had gone before." this book is so dark how is it for children???? it's incredible I love it

ik she's looking for a place to hide from a guy trying to pull our her soul but her thought process when searching for a hiding spot reminds me of playing hide n seek

"She was the CRC. No trap or weapon or evil man was going to catch her." hELL YEAH

ahhhh description of serafina. collar bones that don't connect to other bones --> cats have a detached collar bone. four toes not five--> cats again. (also as a kid who was tiny and short and having been thought practically dead at birth, serafina was always inspiring to me)

"Mice are timid and prone to panic-induced mistakes at key moments. Just stay still little mouse, [she thought]." oooh nice callback to this exact thought about mice when she's hunting rats earlier

Also did I mention how much I love the chapter titles being encircled in brambles that form the shape of her face or a panther?? that's just cool. if I can actually write something good enough to be published, I'd love to have something like that

Babe wake up new slang just dropped: “gnawin’ on leather”

Her pa doesn’t like mr poe gives “my dad won’t let us watch horror movies so you have to sneak them over in a different dvd cover if we’re gonna watch a horror movie when you sleep over later tonight” omg rowena & serafina girltime au?? (Lol sorry)

Oooooh the dynamo’s busted I wonder what thaaat meeeaannnssss (hehehe)

Biltmore being one of the few homes to have electricity is a nice reminder of the time period

“she’d been trying to follow [her pa’s] rules at least some of the time” lol

“Spotting an upholstered chair she felt an overwhelming desire to run her fingernails over the plush fabric” REAL

Her being shocked at flower vases & the idea of flowers INSIDE the house is so funny

Awwww poor sera, looking for her momma and siblings everywhere…

Serafina is super smart. just putting that out there. She’s brilliant and I love her

Oop the first description of Edith Vanderbilt kinda gives chatgpt-generated ngl (obviously it wasn’t bc it predates chatgpt & shitty ai writing generators, & this book is SO MUCH BETTER than anything an AI could generate regardless)

“A refined and attractive woman, Mrs. Vanderbilt had a pale complexion and a full head of dark hair, and she seemed at ease in her role of hostess as she moved through the room.” Idk what about this makes me think “AI generated” but it just DOES

“Serafina loved to climb the tapestries at night and run her fingernails down through the soft fabric” AGAIN SHES SO REAL FOR THIS

OHOHOHO MR THORNE NAMEDROP:

“I’m sure that most of you already know Mr. Montgomery Thorne,”… Mrs. Vanderbilt said with a gentle sweep of her arm toward a gentleman. “He has graciously offered to play [the violin] for us today.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Vanderbilt,” Mr. Thorne said with a smile as he stepped forward. ... To Serafina, who’d been listening to Biltmore’s visitors her entire life, he didn’t sound like he came from the mountains of North Carolina, or from New York like the Vanderbilts. He spoke with the accent of a southern gentleman, maybe from Georgia or South Carolina.”

Serafina having an eye for fashion was NOT what I was expecting from this reread lol (she describes mr t’s outfit then says “all of which she thought went nicely with his silvery-black hair and perfectly trimmed sideburns”)

Hmmm interesting she actually sympathizes with/likes mr Thorne at first?? I did nOT recall that

Lol serafina liking to watch mr Thorne’s fingers move as he plays and wanting to pounce on them is so Cat of her

OMG BRAEDEN BRAEDEN BRAEDEN BRAEDEN

Apparently he looks “sickly, a little frail even” which I do not recall, but hes also got “watchful, sensitive brown eyes” and “a rather fetching tussle of wavy brown hair”

“Are you lost?” WE GOT IT WE GOT THE LINE but more importantly we got the NEXT LINE which is “May I help you find your way?” And hes described as not timid or shy but also not overly confident which I LOVE (fun fact this line is very similar to one of the characters of my other favorite kid’s book series, Keefe Sencen’s “you must be lost” line)

Lol Braeden always sharing his food with Gideon annoys the chefs i LOVE him

OMG HE BOWS TO HER WHEN SHE GIVES HIM HIS NAME LIKE SHE’S A PROPER LADY!!!!! MEN!!!! TAKE NOTES!!!!!! THIS IS HOW IT’S DONE!!!

Name drop at last, missing girl’s name is Clara Brahms. Honestly I’m a little sad Clara isnt a recurring character later on. Braeden, Serafina, and Clara could’ve been a good trio

OOOOHH “She had heard the servants in the kitchen joke that their master must have secretly found the Fountain of Youth” what a NICE SET UP for how the black cloak keeps people young & serafina’s suspicion of mr Vanderbilt

Mr Vanderbilt: *wears dress shoes to go riding*

serafina: criminal activity right there. Lock him up

Least accurate part of this book is the implication that serafina uses a hairbrush lmao

New slang: spit nails (means be really mad)

“I’m twelve years old. I’m grown up.” Mmmm not quite, but I agree with the spirit!

“Just tell me what’s wrong with me. I want to know. Why are you ashamed of me?” scuse me, I’ll just be over here… crying… in the corner

Ohhhh serafina back story… she could’ve had 3 siblings (AU where all of her siblings survive, but they’re humans too & her pa raises them all???)

The midwives wouldn’t even help a baby??? And the nuns were so mean for what? Like at least consolidate the man, he’s trying to keep a child alive, don’t just tell him “it’s going to die. You should kill it now” who DOES THAT??

It’s so funny to me that serafina didn’t realize she was the baby in the story until after it was over. i get that it’s a kids book but still!

Oooooh nature v nurture very nice very nice

Oh wow I forgot serafina was almost kidnapped when she was probably around 2-3ish (her pa says she was walking/wandering around, so I assume it’s around that time?)

“It’s plain to see that you’re not like other girls” WOW sera’s pa just went there lmao

Ok so when I was first reading this, I remember shipping Leandra and serafina’s pa SO HARD and wanting her to have a proper mother-daughter-father type family, yknow?

The implication that bright/stereotypically “good” things can ensnare your soul too is so fascinating. That good things can be bad for you too… fascinating

“Her pa had told her to leave them to it, that it wasn’t any of her business, that they weren’t her kin, but who was he to say who was kin and who wasn’t? He stole babies out of the woods!” Help why is this so funny 😭

Ooohhh she wants to find Braeden! And she keeps thinking of Clara as her friend. I’m so annoyed Clara wasn’t brought back now ugh

Awwww she’s wondering if she can think of Braeden as a friend

Awww poor serafina

Serafina: *sees dress shoes* THE DEVIL’S APPAREL!!!

Huh apparently there’s a concealed door to the right of the fireplace in the billiard room? Wonder if that’s true

Oooh and it leads to the smoking room, with a similar one leading to the gun room. VERY curious if this was made up for the sake of the story or not

Haha serafina spitting on the back of her hand and using it to wipe her face and hair is so Cat

Serafina loves closets lol

HES ARRIVED!!!!!!!! BRAEDEN!!!!!

Help why is this whole page so funny 😭

Serafina canonically climbing up a tree to get away from a dog and staying there until her pa got a ladder to get her down is so Cat I can’t

“[Shadows…] [which] reminded her of griffins, chimeras, and other twisted creatures of the night which were half one thing and half another.” OOOOH good foreshadowing!!!

I like this part

when he asks why he’s never seen her and she says “maybe you’ve seen me before and you’ve just forgotten” and he says “I WOULD HAVE REMEMBERED YOU”!!!!

hearinf him say her name has tremendous power over her!!!! I’m going to be sick 😍

smolandweirdwriter reblogged trialserrors Pinned Postsilversickles-deactivated202101 This blog is a safe space.Nazis, TERFs, pedophiles, bigots, Tr*mp supporters, Islamophobes, exclusionists, queerphobes, and anyone who can’t reblog this post, etc, do not interact. I will block you.emo-bunny-1317 FollowHell yeah!#safe space

smolandweirdwriter reblogged smolandweirdwriter Serafina and the Black Cloak Reread Thoughts: chapter Nine and TenMr Vanderbilt: you’ve got to be a man, BraedenSerafina, in the corner, under her breath: yOU’vE gOT tO bE A MaN, bRAeDeNMr Vanderbilt: *gives Braeden some well intentioned, albeit slightly sexist, advice* Serafina: MURDERERNice allusion to Mr thorne’s skill at everything being suspicious Chapter 10 was creepy af (I mean it does take place in a graveyard soo)Cloven Smith has a creepy gravestone, & google told me nothing about him, so I doubt he was realSerafina: *sees a grave to two women* oh these must be sisters me: WIVESAnyway now I wanna write an au about Mary and Margaret being witches or catamounts or something WE FOUND THE GLADEscarred-serafina-fan Djffjjfjvjgnng I'm gonna assume sisters since they were nine but that's freaking funny lolsmolandweirdwriter oh my god I didn’t even read the dates 😭 I’m so stupid

smolandweirdwriter Serafina and the Black Cloak Reread Thoughts: chapter Nine and TenMr Vanderbilt: you’ve got to be a man, BraedenSerafina, in the corner, under her breath: yOU’vE gOT tO bE A MaN, bRAeDeNMr Vanderbilt: *gives Braeden some well intentioned, albeit slightly sexist, advice* Serafina: MURDERERNice allusion to Mr thorne’s skill at everything being suspicious Chapter 10 was creepy af (I mean it does take place in a graveyard soo)Cloven Smith has a creepy gravestone, & google told me nothing about him, so I doubt he was realSerafina: *sees a grave to two women* oh these must be sisters me: WIVESAnyway now I wanna write an au about Mary and Margaret being witches or catamounts or something WE FOUND THE GLADE#serafina and the black cloak#serafina and the black cloak reread

smolandweirdwriter

Serafina and The Black Cloak Reread Thoughts: Chapter Seven and Eight

I got bored so my thoughts will be on two chapters at once now (so this goes faster)

Braeden is canonically a horse girl

lol serafina is scared of horses

mr crankshod is a lil sus (I say like I’ve never read the book before)

still. I don’t like him

me personally I would not walk into the forest at night but 🤷

no bc lowkey I hate bugs. I’d be thinking about them walking all over me the whole time (UNFORTUNATELY, I do love camping and nature. Just not the bugs. Which yes yes I know biodiversity they’re good for the environment et cetera et cetera. I wish I loved them— I never kill them in the house or anything, I take them outside, but I just don’t like them

Sera and Gidean trusting each other!!

oooh when Braeden freezes when he gets scared, nice allusion to how the rats/scared creatures freeze

They’re allies!!!

something I find very interesting is that to serafina EVERYONE can be separated into Friend or Foe. Clara and Nolan, whom she barely knows? Friends.

Braeden is such a horse girl

ooooh he’s helping her into the carriage like a GENTLEMAN

“I’m sorry there aren’t any blankets,” Braeden said. “Not even a good cloak to sleep under.”

”I’ll pass on the cloak, thank you,” Serafina said with a smile, and Braeden laughed.

they’re so 12 year old coded lol

Braeden backstory!! & emotions

Mr Vanderbilt: you’ve got to be a man, Braeden

Serafina, in the corner, under her breath: yOU’vE gOT tO bE A MaN, bRAeDeN

Mr Vanderbilt: *gives Braeden some well intentioned, albeit slightly sexist, advice* Serafina: MURDERER

Nice allusion to Mr thorne’s skill at everything being suspicious

Chapter 10 was creepy af (I mean it does take place in a graveyard soo)

Cloven Smith has a creepy gravestone, & google told me nothing about him, so I doubt he was real

Serafina: *sees a grave to two women* oh these must be sisters

me: WIVES

me, realizing they’re nine: … Childhood lovers who could never fall in love properly because they never grew up?

me, sighing: sisters

Anyway now I wanna write an au about Mary and Margaret being witches or catamounts or something

WE FOUND THE GLADE

WE MET SERAFINAS SIBLINGS!!!!

AND LEANDRA!!!!!!!!! OMG!!!!!!!!!!

oooh is a creature of the night good or bad? Or is right/wrong/good/bad something we need to decide for ourselves?? Fascinating implications & queries for a kids book

”why do I deserve a present?” “Because we’re friends, right?” SO CUTE!!!!!!

braeden being loud af in the tunnels lol

braeden hanging 30 feet in the air lol

serafina wanting to knock the pieces of the chess set over to watch them fall is so Cat (yes that is what I dub the term)

lmaoooo Mr Thorne calling Mr Rostanov “daddy” aged SO WELL

serafina: let’s go through peoples stuff

braeden: let’s not

Braeden as they go through every room: I like this guy! He can’t be evil! I like this guy too! And this guy!

Serafina: you like too many people

Raphael Room, Van Dyck Room, Sheraton Room, Old English Room, Morland Room

Love knowing this is actually true!!

“The pumpkin pie, like all pumpkin pie, looked like something a dog would eat” UH! I beg your pardon?? Pumpkin pie is DELICIOUS

Serafina softening to Mr Vanderbilt and seeing how much he cares for his staff and guests!!

Ooooh Mr Thorne is getting sick!!!

Haha Braeden saving serafina from getting her eardrums ruptured

ohhhhh he’s playing the piano because clara is good with the piano

Braeden somehow knowing what kind of food serafina likes and bringing it to her is friend goals

GUYS Braeden says that Mr Thorne owned an estate “before the war between the states.” That’s the civil war, in 1861. It’s been almost 38 years since then. But Mr Thorne isn’t described as an old man at all. But he couldn’t be a fully grown adult and own property 38 years ago but still appear as if he’s in his 40s. Right??

but also Mr Thorne’s death is sooooo overdue. Child murdering evil plantation-owning racist piece of shit got what he deserved

UGH all the descriptions of the night and the stars and nature make me SO MAD I live in a giant polluted city

A good couple pages:

“The time for sneaking and hiding was over. She was going to make sure one man in particular saw her. And tonight was the night. The Chief Rat Catcher had a job to do.” (Ch 19, p225) YES SERAFINA!!!!!

“She… kept lacing her dress up her back with shaky fingers, but she was having a terrible go of it. Normal girls must have extremely long and bendy arms to do this every night, she thought. Help she’s so funny 😭

“She hated walking straight. And she hated walking slow.” REAL

“She was a China doll, and she was a wraith, in and out of shadows, a girl in between.” Very nice

oooohhhhhh she’s hoping the mountain Lion will show up to kill him. I didn’t realize that the first time i read this

“Come out, my dear child, before I become angry with you.” Thanks to @secretly-a-catamount for telling me Thorne was meant to be a warning to children about child predators because now I SEE IT even more clearly than I did earlier

”At that moment, all the power and ferocity of closed motherhood came ripping out of the woods.” YESSIR

GIDEAN TO THE RESCUE!!!

”she was mightily perturbed he hadn’t stayed dead” 💀 😭

yesyesyesyes die rat bastard!!!!! Mr Thorne is dead!!!!! Let’s go!!!!!

LEANDRA!!!!!

Braeden putting together a search party for serafina and sending gidean out ahead is so perfect and wonderful

Am I the only one somewhat perplexed that all Mrs&Mr Vanderbilt did was send down some beds? Like why not give them a proper room even in the servant’s floor or something? Idk

“There are few skills more important than picking good friends.” — Mr Vanderbilt, the man who befriended Mr Thorne 😂

ahhhh I loved this book. I can’t WAIT to reread the rest!

#serafina and the black cloak #Serafina and the black cloak reread #leandra satbc #serafina x braeden #serafina and the splintered heart #serafina and the seven stars #serafina series #serafina and the twisted staff #braeden vanderbilt #rowena fox pemberton #waysa #biltmore estate #george vanderbilt #edith vanderbilt

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baggebythesea · 1 year

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Princess Glimmer and the Day of Many Choices: Entrapta won't let you kill her boyfriend (17/?)

"Now, this has all been faaaaaashinating," Entrapta interrupted the conversation, voice strained "but it's time for me and Hordak to leave."

""You can't leave," George objected. "We're not done lynching yet."

"We can't leave," Hordak objected. "I'm not done paying penence for my many crimes yet."

"Is that so?" Entrapta asked, and suddenly all around them they could hear the skitter of many, many metal legs as her robots scuttled in place. "But the thing is, I don't care. This has been a very stressful day, you are making it more stressful and I'm taking my boyfriend home."

Without minding his protests, the biggest robot scoped Hordak up with a mechanical arm and slammed him into a storage compartement. Entrapta climbed on top of it.

"If there are any complaints about this developement," she said with prim, slightly shaky voice, "You are welcome to leave it to my assistant 'Mrs Murderbot'. You'll find her in the middle of the main castle-labyrinth, protected by heavy, automated canons, death traps and killbots in the independent kingdom of Dryl. Only, please don't contact us anytime soon. We want to be left alone. Thank you."

And with a roar of engines, they were gone.

"Well, that didn to go perfectly," Bow said.

"Actually, that was exactly what could be expected," George said, watching the retreating Entrapta and Hordak with narrow eyes. "When the people finally have the power to judge the Horde, the princesses step in to protect them."

"For the people in power, 'sides' matter less than 'rank," Lance agreed. "If the leaders of the Horde were prosecuted for their crimes, it would set the dangerous precedent that leaders everywhere could be judged for crimes, including the princesses. They would rather see the leaders of the Horde go free."

"I think that's a bit misleading," Perfuma said, holding tightly on to Scorpia's arm.

"I have no idea where you got that idea,"Glimmer said, one hand in Despara's, one in Catra's.

"If I'm not needed I'll go back to my garden, or my room full of fluffy pillows, in the Brightmoon Castle," Shadow Weaver said.

"Therefor the only way to truly change the power structure is to TEAR DOWN THE PRINCESSES FROM THEIR CRYSTAL PALACES!" Swift WInd bellowed.

"DID SOMEONE SAY SWIFT WIND?" Bow and Sea Hawk yelled.

"Hey, we don't live in crystal palaces," Perfuma objected.

"Um..." Glimmer said.

"Well..." Frosta said.

"Traitor," Despara hissed.

"Just because you made me doesn't mean you have claim on me," Swift Wind sniffed.

"I know it looks like the princesses might protect the horde," Bow pleaded, "but..."

"But they don't," a new voice said. Everyone turned to look at the new arrival on the scene, former Horde Soldiers Lonnie, Kyle and Rogelio.

"The Princesses don't protect the Horde," Lonnie went on. "Only a few dropouts. The rest of us have been thinking..."

Part 16: https://www.tumblr.com/baggebythesea/712214265219645440/not-a-single-one-of-you-picked-the-black-and-white

#spop #princess glimmer and the day of many choices #chose your own adventure #the horde #entrapta #entrapdak #george #lance

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peterlorres21stcentury · 8 months

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why do I have such great ideas for my WIPs while taking a shower?

Frau Richter, aging trollop and sadistic wife of the camp Kommandant, enters the infirmary at the supposed (but fake) invitation of the doctor. The interior is dark and eerily quiet, but she is a little bit too drunk to worry about it. Things start getting scary only when she can't find the doctor, and she starts to hear whispers from the shadows. She tries to leave, but the doors suddenly shut behind her. She gets increasingly desperate, running and trying locked doors and fleeing at sudden loud sounds. What she doesn't know is that the pursuit is not random. The unseen prisoners are harrying her into a trap, like hounds at their quarry.

At last she is driven into the surgery, where she spies a glimmer of hope: a guard's silhouette appears at the end of the corridor, dimly lit from behind. She gasps in relief and runs to him.

Frau Richter: Oh, thank goodness you've come. Something's wrong, I can't find Dr. Klein and someone is trying to... to...

She gets a good look at his face for the first time. She pales. This is no guard. The light shines from below in lurid in classic horror fashion, revealing the prisoner known as Fresser--the glutton. He smiles with delight and hunger. His eyes are bulging, his grin spreads impossibly wide.

literally the closest pics I could find in terms of his expression, just imagine him (poorly) disguised in an ill-fitting Nazi uniform, the stupid Totenkopf hat and everything

Frau Richter realizes too late she has been tricked. She screams and tries to run, but Georg Fresser has caught her, forcing her arms behind her back. His grip is unbreakable. He crushes her close and embraces her about the waist, almost lovingly, as his jaws gape open and his lips envelop her face. It is an easy thing for him to tilt back and swallow the rest of her, still alive and kicking as she slides down his gullet.

#oh dear I got too sicko about it again #but it's all going in the story along with more anyway so :3 #keep in mind all of this flashed into my head in like two seconds and all I did was write it out #writing #WIP #halloween fic #torg

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dreamsmp-au-ideas · 3 years

Note

Immortal council au

Technoblade is the literally immortal vessel of the Blood God. He can't die in battle no matter what he does but he CAN die by "normal" means. "Chat" are former vessels giving him advice.

Phil is the Angel of Death. He's not Death himself but he is (or was) one of the reapers who fell in love with humanity and earth a little bit too much and decided to stay. The sky is his domain, keeping his charges safe from his master a little bit longer.

Death is watching patiently. Eventually, his reaper will return to him. It is inevitable, just like Death himself.

Tubbo and Tommy are semi-immortal demigods, similar to Castor and Pollux in Greek mythology. If one of them dies, the other will follow him into Death too. On the other hand, they always know where the other is/what he feels and they possess mild teleportation powers.

Sapnap is a fire spirit but everyone always thinks he's a blaze hybrid. When he gets injured, no blood shows, only little flames dancing on his skin. He's also obviously fireproof and can change as quickly as the fire between moods.

I can see George as some sort of spirit of the seasons (maybe fall?) which would explain why he always sleeps so much. It's in his nature to miss most of the year until he's needed and if he decides to stay for longer than he should, it takes massive amouts of energy.

Nobody is really sure who or what Dream is. He's not human, clearly, but the others also know he's something else. Sometimes, when you look at him quickly enough, you can see the shadows moving ominously and a light from his mask that should not be there. Nobody has ever seen his face.

(Dream is something else, that is true. Far older than the others know, he's just grateful he's found a place where he's accepted no matter what. And if he enjoys the slaughter similarly to Techno sometimes or seems to know what others are thinking like Tommy and Tubbo or he plays with the elements like Sapnap, nobody says anything.)

Eret is Herobrine. No more explanation, they are just straight up Herobrine.

Niki is something similar to Hestia, a goddess dedicated to family and hospitality. She likes to bake because those were the offerings humans used to leave for her.

Fundy's a trickster god, having chosen the form of a fox a long time ago.

Ranboo used to be a spirit too but something went wrong with his body. When someone summoned him and forced him into a (mostly) human body, his memories and powers got screwed up in the process. Only Dream knows who he used to be.

Puffy is a benevolent goddess who watches over the weak and provides for the ones with good intentions. She used to be a human knight, many many years ago and will still sometimes act like it.

Wilbur... Now Wilbur's very interesting. Gods aren't supposed to die, after all. But as the (former) patron saint of a city, he lost himself when his city got reduced to nothing after a bombing. He's still a deity now but his powers are a lot more volatile since thry no longer really have an "anchor" or a duty.

Karl watches over the timeline. He no longer remembers who he was before he took up his duty but he'll never forget the people dear to his heart, no matter how many timelines he'll have to wade through. His guardian powers give him mild time travel and time manipulation abilities (freezing/speeding up time, etc.)

Quackity is a bird spirit. Freedom is his domain and he will stand in the way of everyone who tries to oppose this. Similar to Philza, he has permanent wings on his back which symbolize his position.

Punz and Purpled are both spirits of war. They're not the God of war themselves, similar to Philza and death, but they've always been there when there's bloodshed to be had. That doesn't mean they enjoy it.

Ponk is an ancirnt trading and trickster god, similar to Hermes in Greek mythology. He can manipulate deals and money and if you give him an opportunity, you will lose, but if he likes you, you'll suddenly find yourself enjoying riches you've never heard before.

Sam is the patron of inventors, Bad doesn't even have to change as a demon, Skeppy is a nature spirit who somewhere alsong the way picked up an unshakeable love for diamonds and Ant is a cat spirit .

This ended up way too long but enjoy. -V

I enjoy this a lot! I enjoy it a lot! These are all so cool!

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charliedawn · 3 years

Text

Imagine being Mrs Darling and having been trapped by Peter Pan to stay in Neverland and be his personal storyteller forever..until you wake up.

" Dad ! Dad !"

Mr Darling looks at his little girl and smiles at her while she bounces happily up and down towards him. She sits in the chair opposite his to ask with stars in her eyes.

" Could you talk to me about mom again ?!"

His smile turns bittersweet at his daughter's request, but he still indulges and looks at an invisible spot behind her, as if he could see you standing there..

" Your mother was like no other woman I ever encountered..Bright, kind, loving..She had such an imagination and she was so beautiful, just like you my sweet child.."

George says while stroking affectionately the cheek of his daughter. It has been 8 years now..8 years since the day you disappeared and that George still hopes for your return. However, he knows well that those who go to Neverland rarely return..He had tried to follow you there, but had failed. But, that doesn't mean he doesn't know about the enchanted world. He had once gone himself, one time, and he still feels as if a part of him is still there, searching for you.

In Neverland :

Captain Hook has finally found out where the wretched Peter is hiding his treasures..He is finally going to get his revenge ! His arch nemesis had been hiding and sending his little friends instead for so long that Captain was starting to think he was actually avoiding them. However, he had finally succeeded in making one of them talk. He enters the huge cave and looks around to see humongous piles of gold and many other wonders that Peter had collected over the years. His men are amazed and start filling their pockets with coins and diamonds while he starts searching a bit deeper inside the cave until he finds..a woman ?! His breath hitches as he decides to approach the woman, asleep in some sort of coffin made of glass. He walks towards it slowly and runs his fingers over the surface.

" Oh Peter..what have you done ?"

He whispers as his eyes wouldn't leave the apparition, taking in all of you and frowning, certain of already having seen you somewhere. Suddenly, he remembers you..your name is Y/N Darling, and you had been one of the first ones to be brought to the island..But, Captain Hook hadn't expected you to actually still be on the island. He opens the crystal coffin and you fall in his arms. Hook doesn't know what to do, so he decides to wait for you to wake up. However, as soon as your eyes open, you scream and wiggle out of his arms to fall backwards in the dark waters. Captain Hook immediately extends his valid hand towards you and, after a moment of hesitation, you finally take it. He yanks you up and you pant heavily while looking at him with a frown of incomprehension.

" W..Why did you help me ?"

You finally ask and James seems as dumbfounded as you. He coughs to hide his embarrassment before admitting.

" I..I don't know.."

You seem to think for a moment before finally smiling gratefully at him.

" Thank you."

James's eyes widen, as he had never been thanked before..He only smiles slightly back and nods in acknowledgement. But then, he quickly remembers who he is and straightens up to quickly add.

" I assure you, it was unintentional..But, I do wonder, why were you trapped in that awful prison of yours ?"

Suddenly, a dark shadow seems to fall upon your eyes as you remember who trapped you, and why..However, before you could answer, someone interrupts you.

" Captain Hook !"

You both turn your head towards the origin of the voice to see a tall blond man with anger in his eyes. You automatically recognize him and quickly hide behind James that seems confused by the strange man that seems to know him.

" Yes. It is I. Now, who might you be ?"

The eyes of the young man seem to widen in surprise at Captain Hook's question, but you answer for him.

" Peter.."

Hook laughs, he thinks it is a joke, but his laughter quickly quiets down as he sees that you are very serious. Captain Hook can't believe it. He looks between the two of you with a puzzled expression before realizing that it is, indeed, Peter Pan that is standing in front of him. His surprise leaves place to a sort of sadness as he looks up at Peter with a pitying look.

" Oh Peter..What happened to you ?"

Peter doesn't take note of Hook's pity, he only glares at you while uttering through gritted teeths.

" I did what I had to do..She was going to leave us and be a grown-up, like all of the ones before her.."

You whimper and hide your face in Hook's sleeve while he tries to shield you from Peter. He looks up at Peter while shaking his head in absolute horror.

" This..This is not right..Look at yourself ! You're turning into a grown-up ! The laws of Neverland are not to be messed with..No adult is to stay here, or there would be consequences ! Peter..She has a life ! A real life ! You can't trap her here."

Peter only waves his words dismissively before approaching you and argues.

" She has a role here too. To be my storyteller. Forever."

You shiver in fear at the thought and look up at Peter with tears in your eyes and finally protest.

" Peter. I can't. I told you, I need to get back to my children..I'm a grown-up now. I have responsibilities, and a husband that I love very much. It was supposed to be my last visit to Neverland..How long was I asleep ?"

You ask and, for once, Peter seems almost regretful when he answers you.

" 8 years.."

You eyes widen in shock at the news and you feel as if you are suffocating. You take a shaky step backwards, your legs fall under you under the shock and you fall on the ground.

" 8..years ?"

You repeat, dumbfounded. Peter nods in silent agreement and even Captain Hook seems to pity you.

" Oh..Miss Y/N..I'm so sorry."

He says earnestly and you heart tightens even more. Wendy must be old now..You hadn't seen her grow up. Her, or your two other children. You stay silent for a moment, staring far in the distance, your eyes foggy because of the tears. And George ? He must have looked over the three of them on his own during all this time ?

" I..can bring her children too ! She won't be alone.."

Peter quickly says while showing them to you in a sort of giant magic mirror. Your tears threaten to spill at the corner of your eyes as you see George and your three kids playing around him. They had grown so much..Suddenly, the words of Peter seem to sink in and, even though it hurts you deeply, you shake your head negatively while giving him his mirror back.

" Please don't..I promise to stay forever..Just, don't trap them here with me. Please."

He shows you the mirror again where your reflection slowly distorts into a vision of your children and your husband, happily chatting while going to bed..You smile tenderly at the sight, touching the mirror with your fingertips.

" Are you sure ?"

You force yourself to tear your eyes from the vision and shake your head again.

" Yes. don't be so cruel as to make them join me in my prison.."

Peter seems to ponder your words and feels something boiling in his stomach, something that feels a lot like guilt. He lowers his eyes and tales a big breath before finally letting you go.

" Go.."

You turn around towards Peter with widened eyes.

" What ?"

He grits his teeths and forces himself to repeat.

" I said go. You are not happy, I can feel it. And you will never be as long as I keep you here, away from your family.."

Your eyes water as he takes your hand and gives you a small handful of fairy dust. He then looks up at you with tears in his eyes and a small sad smile.

" I can't believe it took Hook to free you for me to realize how much of a mistake I've made. He is right. As long as you will stay, Neverland will be in danger. This place was never meant to be a prison, but a safe place for the lost. And, I can now see that you are not lost. Far from it. Now, go. Before I can change my mind."

You smile in relief and feel tears in your eyes at the idea of finally getting back to your family. You look up at Peter and wrap your arms around him, knowing that deep down ? He is still the little boy that taught you how to fly. Your friend. He takes a shaky breath before looking up at Tinkerbell that flies around the both of you. You then look down at Hook that can't help but smile at you and bow with his hat in hand as a last goodbye. Somehow, he is less frightening than you had always thought he was..He even makes you think of someone..But who ? You don't have the time to ponder more as Peter and you both fly away. You fly over London and smile widely when you recognize your house. Peter leaves you at your window and you almost cry when you see your children, ready to go to bed. You open the window and Wendy is the first one to notice you. She takes a step back at first, frightened about the woman that suddenly appeared out of nowhere. But then, she remembers the photo that her father had shown of her mother, your (Y/C) hair and beautiful (Y/C) eyes. She instantly knows and asks with tears in her eyes.

" Mom..?"

You nod affirmatively and smile with your arms wide open. Wendy immediately hugs you with no hesitation while her brothers look at each other, confused. Wendy turns towards them and motion them to step forward.

" Come on, boys ! It's mom !"

You laugh as they all run in your arms and make you fall backwards. You then ask :

" Where is your father ?"

" At work..But, he said that you were gone forever ! Where were you ?!"

You are about to answer Wendy's question when you hear heavy footsteps in the corridor. Before you can say anything, you see Nana at the doorstep. The dog suddenly runs towards you and jump on you to lap your face eagerly as you laugh.

" Nana ?! Oh my gosh ! You've grown so much ! Last time I saw you, you were just a pup !"

You pet her and she immediately puts herself in her favorite position on your legs, her tongue rolling out and making happy noises as you shower her with attention. However, another thought runs through your mind that scares you. If Nana had grown so much, then would George recognize you after all this time ? You get up and ask the children to lead you to George's workplace. They agree and take your hands to guide you outside. You look around and feel lost, surrounded by tall houses and people that seem so eager to go somewhere. Always in a hurry. You had forgotten about the world and time itself, how it ran out without you. You bite your lip hesitantly, maybe George had lived on without you ? Maybe he had met someone ? You want to ask the children when Wendy suddenly declares happily.

" We're here !"

You look up to see a bank..not very surprising. George was always good with numbers. You take a big breath to give you courage before entering, followed by the rest of your family. You look around to spot your husband. You walk up to the first set of gentlemen you encounter and ask.

" Excuse me ?"

Suddenly, the only gentleman that had his back turned towards you freezes and slowly turns towards you with widened eyes. Your own eyes widen when you recognize..

" G..George ?"

You ask with a nervous laugh, as he seems to not find his words, not believing his own eyes. You suddenly find yourselves in each other's arms, sobbing in happiness as he spins you around in utter joy. His colleagues gasp and scowl at him as he kisses you passionately. He doesn't even give them a side glance before carrying you home bridal style. You laugh happily before having one last thought for Peter, hoping that he would still find peace without you.

Peter looks at your reunion through the mirror with a pang in his chest. He still can't believe it. You chose them..He has such a heavy heart at the notion that you'd be happier without him. One single tear rolls down his cheek as he murmurs his final words to you.

" Goodbye, my pretty storyteller.."

Suddenly, a vivid bright light shines around him and when it dissipates, Peter is back to his kid-self. He looks at his hands and smiles sadly before closing his eyes and taking a moment to breathe deeply. He doesn't want to cry anymore, he just feels numb. However, he suddenly hears footsteps behind him, but he doesn't even have to ask who it is.

" Came to gloat, Hook ?"

He asks bitterly. However, Captain Hook only puts his hand on Peter's shoulder, almost in a fatherly manner.

" Not today, Pan. I came to thank you."

Peter opens his eyes wide as he looks up at Hook, shock written all over his features. Captain Hook only nods and looks back at the mirror with a smile before explaining.

" If you hadn't given her back, I know what the man would have become..more exactly, who he would have become. But, you already knew that, didn't you, Pan ?"

Peter understands and only chuckles before nodding.

" Yes. I know, Hook. I remember the little boy that wanted to become a pirate. To think that you came here every night to search for her. Now that she is back, I imagine it is goodbye ?"

Hook laughs to Peter's dismay and shakes his head.

" Of course not, this part of me will always stay with you. George Darling is no more. Only his dreams remain. Only Captain Hook remains."

He emphasizes on Captain Hook, clearly stating that he would stay with Peter forever. Peter smiles genuinely at Hook that smiles back. Here is the sad story of the eternal fight between Peter Pan and Captain Hook : opposites on the battlefield, but friends in their shared prison. Neither can escape, neither can win, both lost.

#fandoms #imagine #fanfic #peter pan #captain hook

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paversandplatters · 3 years

Text

||𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚙|| (5/20)

Apocalypse! Au (TW! Minor gore and cussing)

Reader x multiple

Chapter 5: A Flock Found

They pack a wheel barrow to the brim with the newly acquired supplies they find not botheringing to leave behind much of anything, making sure to cop the twenty five gallon container of gasoline from the tool shed out back behind the building... Lord knows they'll need for the grand task ahead of them. By the time the light in the south western sky began to fade from a light gray to pink over the backwaters of the panhandle they're ready. They slip outside through the rectory's side door and creep single file along the edge of the property. Y/n takes the lead, periodically glancing over her shoulder for any sign of the herd that had crossed the highway or any sign of the group that occupied this space all too recently. She carries a glock with a full magazine just in case. The dusky air gets clammy and cool on the back of the stranger's neck as he follows them to the car. They climb in hurriedly, stowing their provisions in the rear cargo bay. Y/n kicks the engine on as the newcomer clambers into the passenger seat next to her- much to the dismay of the other two- unfolding an old dogeared map.

"They usually stick pretty close to the ocean." He says almost to himself, silently calculating the mileage between them and the gulf. "Probably should start down by Perry or Carwfordville." He senses movement ahead of them through the windshield and glances up in time to see a couple of jagged shadows emerging from the woods about a hundred yards away, drawn to the sound of their engine. Garbled growls can be heard over the drone of crickets. The trace smell of garbage on the breeze, the light and space of the outdoors is almost overwhelming to him. He feels like he's been asleep for a hundred years, locked away in that dank and dirty church- he starts to feel dizzy.

Y/n gooses the accelerator and the SUV lurches away. He sinks into his seat as they roar down the road, swerving to avoid the half dozen or so biters now skulking out of the woods blocking their path. They sideswipe one the creatures, ripping a chunk of its shoulder, splattering fresh gore across the glass of his side window.

"You get used to it." she states after he flinches in disgust. He just stares at the splatter, flecks of bone chips, and a long trail of black bile.

"I don't think anyone can get used to that ..." Nick mutters from the back seat.

Night falls and the darkness deepens behind the trees on either side of the road. Most of the streetlights in this part of the country have gone the same way as the internet or cable TV, so the road only gets darker and darker as they head south towards the steaming thickets and festering swamps of the coastal lowlands. The going is slow, most of the two lanes are crowded with rusted out wreckages ,the carcasses of cars and trucks so old now that the weeds and switchgrass have begun to grow up from their metal endoskeletons. The two young men in the rear breathe heavily, thickly, half asleep while Y/n drives and softly hums some forgotten tune. They had passed the jerky and water around a few minutes ago- their standard fare of supper- and now their bellies growl and their eyelids droop with exhaustion.

"You never gave your name..." His hushed voices rings out from the shotgun seat.

"Hadn't crossed my mind at the time, sorry about that... It's Y/n" She chuckles softly. "The one with the headband is Nick but goes by Sapnap, don't ask i don't know- the other one with the accent is George." he just simply hums in reply.

"What about you big guy? What do they call you?"

He takes a moment to regard the woman seated next to him; his head still trying to wrap itself around this complete stranger who's shown him nothing but kindness. On the one hand, she seems trustworthy enough, friendly, a good listener, courteous and capable of single handedly taking out an entire chapel full of reanimated corpses... On the other hand she seems like a walking time bomb. He'd seen her type before- they type that's too kind until something or someone breaks that trust. A hairline trigger. The sad fact is he doesn't have a large array of options. Staying in that hellhole of a church with those enslavers, listening to the groans of the dead, waiting for whatever those bastards would do next quickly loses its charm... Seeing the aftermath of her cleaning house with that knife had given him an odd charge- a cathartic release. He's also aware that he'd never be able to find the caravan on his own given the sorry state he's in. He really has no choice but to go along with her and her scruffy ass men and hope for the best.

"I don't have a name.. that is, one that I can remember.."

She desperately wants to pry, how could he not remember his own name? But the thousand yard stare and glassy gaze is enough to stop her from inquiring any further. "Well we've gotta call you something big guy." She's met with silence in response. "Alright, I guess Big Guy it is then." He offers only a meek hum in response. In an attempt to silence his own raging thoughts his eyes landed on the red bandanna tied to the rearview mirror for what was probably the hundredth time since he started on this way too long car ride.

"... What's that about?" He points to the red scarf.

"It belonged to a friend of mine a long while back, before Sapnap and George were a thing." Her hands tighten their hold on the wheel. "I was caught by 'traders' and he was stuck in the same hole as me... Couldn't have been any older than fourteen at the time. One night the compound was under attack, their front gate was breached- luckily we were kept at the very back end, so when the opportunity came we managed to escape our holding cell and I hoisted him over the wall. Told him to keep running, to not look back. He got away but I was caught again," She takes in a deep breath before resuming her story.

"I was quickly sold off to some asshole who had these two chained up for breaking into their stores... one thing led to another and we snuck out and snagged this ride... we've been moving around since." It was obvious by her tone there was a lot she was leaving out and probably for a good reason. Notably the two in the back seat were dead silent, so much so that it made the air feel heavy and dense enough to cut with a sharp enough knife. Suddenly he was wishing he hadn't bothered to ask in the first place

"That sign back there," He manages, desprate to break the heavy air "Said 'Cross city 12 miles" He glances up from the map in his lap, gazing out the side window at the stewing darkness of Dixie County Florida. "Got a feeling we're getting close."

The vast patchwork of wetlands passes in a blur on either side of them. The land oozing a low blanket of methane as gray as mold, clinging to the shadows of pine thickets and gullies like dirty lace. The air smells briny and rotten with dead fish. Every few minutes they pass the ruins of a small town or wreckage strewn trailer parks. No sign of survivors in these parts, though only the occasional silhouette of an upright corpse shambling by, it's eyes like twin yellow reflectors in the darkness.

"We can't just keep burning gas all night." Sapnap says from his place in the rear, his voice all cranked up with pain and panic "and we can't just go off of what you overheard those traders talking about- Much less go off of feelings.." Big guy just keeps a neural face.

"We're in the ballpark" He persists "Believe me they'll be hard to miss." Y/n grips the steering wheel, her jaw working overtime on a piece of gum, snapping and chewing complusively as she drives.

"How many vehicles do they have in this convoy?" George questions between wheezy breaths.

"No idea... but it's quite a few ."

"That's pretty general."

"They'll be easy to spot." He replies once more, gazing back out at the darkness. "Our best bet is to follow the coast, they like to keep close to the water.."

"Why's that?"

He shrugs. "According to those 'traders' they keep their eyes peeled for ships or any possible way they might get their asses the hell out of here. Most of the bigger boats around here have been destroyed by the hurricane that hit a couple years ago, so it's a long shot that they'll find anything..."

They're about to give up the search when they start to climb the gentle slope- at first so gradual it's almost unnoticeable - up the side of a vast malodorous landfill- the barren trash-strewn scrubland to their left reaches across miles of sandy berms, all the way down to the deserted ghostly boardwalks that wind their way along the beaches. The sky has begun to bruise pink with predawn light and Y/n has just started to say something when the Big Guy sees the first faint streaks of red dots in the distant haze.

"LOOK!" He points his large gnarled hand down at the far dunes of ashen white sand winding along the coast. The surface is so pocked and windswept it resembles the dark side of the moon.

"Where?" She cranes her neck, slowing the vehicle down to a crawl.

"I don't see anything."

"About Half a mile up there... Look at the tail lights!"

She takes a deep cleansing breath as she finally sees the caravan chugging along the coastal road in the predawn light, it looks like embers throwing up puffs of smoke in their wake.

"Holy shit, I see it." A big smile washes over her face, Glad she decided to follow through with this insane plan.

"What do you think of those boys?" The two young men in the rear lean forward, transfixed by the sight, each of them rapt and silent as they gaze at the convoy.

"What are you doing?! Blaster your horn at them," George stutters anxiously. "Don't let them get away !"

Y/n smiles to herself, in her former life she used to be fascinated by the wildlife shows, often catching them in the late night showings after work before she turning in for the night. She remembers one episode in particular, on the behavior of sheep vs the behavior of wolves. She remembers the flock mentality; the sheep moving almost as one, easily managed by a single sheepdog. She remembers the instinct of the Wolf, stealthy, patient as it and its pack creep up on the flock. She shoots a glance across the dark interior at the larger man sat next to her before turning her head to face the two sat behind them.

"I have a better idea."

Taglist

@the-wandering-pan-ace @hvrcruxes

#dsmp x reader #dream x y/n #dsmp tubbo #ranboo #sapnap x y/n #techno x reader #tommyinnit #dream smp x reader #dsmp #dsmp techno #georgenotfound #georgenotfound x y/n #philza x reader #the behavior of sheep

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whack-ed · 3 years

Text

TIMELESS (INTERACTIVE HP & HOO CROSSOVER)

Synopsis: Alex finds Hecate's notebook and discovers about the wizarding world and about Y/n.

Paring: In the beginning it's platonic!fred & george x reader, but I promise that in the end it is fred x reader.

Warnings: None, I guess.

Reader: Slytherin!Female

Word count: 1.9k

A/N: In this chapter, Y/n appears little, but it is extremely important.

September 2010, New York - USA

Alexa would be lying if she said she didn’t cry like a baby when she saw Argo II return to Camp Half-Blood. She had been forbidden to help in the battle against the giants, but she was nevertheless not full at Camp. After the near invasion of Camp Jupiter and Reyna's visit, things got messed up there.

But the best part of the return of the other demigods was seeing Percy again. He looked extremely exhausted, but happy to be back in one piece. Alex hugged him for so long that Percy almost fell asleep in her arms.

The boy was welcomed with all the frenzy he deserved, entitled to a hearty banquet and a visit from his father, along with a very tearful Sally and a relieved Paul. Tyson had been absolutely thrilled to see his older brother talking to his friends by the fire, which glowed high and yellow, mirroring the emotion of the half-bloods.

Despite being as happy as the others, and maybe even more so, Alex retired a little earlier that night. She didn't walk long before her absence was noticed.

‘Mingling with the shadows? I thought this was my own thing.” The girl smiled at Nico di Angelo, who walked over to her with his hands in the pockets of his aviator jacket, which was still too big for him.

“I'm going to sleep, Nico.” She explained, continuing her way to Cabin 3. “It was a day full of emotions, I'm tired.”

Nico nodded, walking beside her. Alex always found it fun to be the same size as Nico, but now she realized that he was a few inches taller than she was.

“Are you okay?” she asked, bringing up the subject.

“I think so.” Nico replied, looking surprised by his own conclusion. “Maybe things get better for me from now on.

“I'm sure it will.” Alexa opened an encouraging smile. Because he was the son of Hades, Nico suffered more than all the other demigods, which worried the girl. She hadn't seen him since the war of the Titans, but she talked to Percy during her mission and discovered things she didn't want to discover.

She looked at Nico. For the first time in his life, his face looked serene, as if his problems were gone. Alex realized that it would be better not to go into details about the problems he went through. She did not want to end his joy.

“Di Angelo!” someone called, running up to them. Alex turned to find Will Solace smiling like a ray of sunshine. “Hi Alex!”

“Will.” She smiled. When looking at Nico, she noticed a pink tint on his cheeks and held her laugh. “Can you take care of Nico for me? I need to go to sleep but he doesn't want to leave.”

Will smiled, realizing what she meant. Nico looked at her with anger and indignation, but he didn't seem against the idea.

“Certainly.” The blonde took a step forward. “Have a good night!”

“You too.” She raised an eyebrow at Nico and walked back to her cabin.

She was still smiling when she passed Hecate's cabin, which looked darker than ever. Her smile wilted. She had always been a little afraid of the goddess's children since she found herself a half-blood and moved to camp. But that night, something seemed comforting in the hideous darkness of the cabin. Unable to contain the impulse that occurred to her, Alexa went up on the porch and went through the open door. None of the goddess's children were there, they were probably still at the stake celebrating, they always loved a good party.

Alexa didn't know exactly what she expected to find inside, but she certainly wasn't ready for what she saw. She had never entered the cabin since she had never been invited and it didn't feel right to enter without an invitation like she did now. But what she found was an absolute void. No bunk beds, bathroom, closet or chest. Nothing for the basic comfort of teenagers. All that was inside was a torch on the floor with a brown leather-bound notebook beside it.

“Take it” A whisper said, and Alex knelt down to better analyze the notebook.

“Who...?” She started the question, but knew at the time that she had no need to finish it. Hecate was there. “Are you hiding in the shadows?”

There was a harsh laugh, but Alex couldn't tell where it came from. It was as if the goddess moved in every particle of air around her.

“I heard that Poseidon's children were mocking, but seeing that feat face to face is much more fun. Ares definitely didn't say enough about it.”

“I don't think he has any reason to boast about it.” She commented, but her body was tense. Something about the goddess made her feel that bad things would happen any second.

“Take the notebook.” She asked, seeming to feel the girl's tension. “Take it and bring my girl back.”

“What does that mean?” Alex asked, but never got an answer.

After several minutes, she finally let herself be overcome by curiosity, put the notebook under her arm and ran out of the cabin.

Alexa spent a few days without touching the notebook, which was comfortably resting on the small table in her cabin. Percy asked several times what the notebook was and why Alex didn't move it, but the girl always answered the same thing. "It's just a silly notebook." She was afraid to open it and end up triggering something she couldn't control.

Percy and the others had just returned from a massacre battle with irreparable losses, she didn't want to leave anyone alarmed by something as stupid as a leather notebook.

Alex tried to distract herself. She would swim in the lake, duel with Percy in the arena, ask Tyson to teach her something in the forges, help Chiron with pending camp, talk about the biggest zucchinis with Rachel, encourage Annabeth to talk nonstop about architecture, sometimes make her repeat everything he had said in Greek, but nothing seemed to get her thoughts out of the notebook. Instead of being distracted, she got some scars from the duels, burns from the forges and throbbing ears, but nothing erased the notebook.

Tired of trying, Alex returned to the cabin and spent several minutes looking at the problem. She would get up a few times, making a move to pick it up, but soon she would go back to sitting on bed. When she finally thought she would be brave enough to end the trip, someone knocked on the door.

Changing her course, Alex opened the door to the blond, smug figure.

Alexa and Apollo had spent a lot of time together a few months before, not that any of them had a chance to do the opposite. He had helped her save the Camp when everyone seemed too busy saving the world. Now she was no longer able to get rid of the sun god, who suddenly appeared in her cabin. At least now he had learned to knock on the door before entering.

“Good afternoon, beautiful lady.” He smiled, breaking into the cottage before Alex had a chance to expel him. “What do you do locked in that cabin?”

“Apollo, seriously, now is not the best time.”

“Every hour is the best time for Apollo!” He smiled at her and Alex found herself unable to say no to him. The god had that effect on her, but she couldn't explain why. She just went back to bed and sighed.

“What happened, Sunshine?” he asked, now more serious.

Alexa pointed to the notebook, like a child pointing out the bully who was mistreating her. Pausing to think, it was almost the same.

Apollo's gaze followed Alexa's finger until it stopped at the Hecate symbol on the cover of the notebook, and he froze.

“What's it?”

“That notebook.” He got up and picked up it, playing with it in his hands. “I saw Hecate with another of his once many years ago. I asked her what they were, but she cast a spell on me that prevented me from speaking for two months. Where did you find it?”

“I found him at her cabin.” The girl admitted, unable to lie to the closest friend she had at the camp until that moment. “I heard Hecate ask me to take him away. I didn't understand what she expects me to do.”

“Write.” He suggested, after long minutes of silence.

“I’m sorry?” Alex looked at him, confused. “What if something bad happens, Apollo? I don't know if I want to find out.”

The god smiled gently, taking the book to the girl and handing it over, along with a blue ballpoint pen. Alexa hesitated for a few seconds before picking up the pen and opening the notebook. But she didn't do much more than that, as the words “Owned by (your initials) ” they magically appeared on the first leaf, in a strange black ink.

Alex looked at Apollo for help, but he just shrugged and encouraged her to write something below. "(your initials)? This notebook is mine, and my name has none of those letters!”

Before she had a chance to tell Apollo how ridiculous it was, the notebook replied.

Y: "Who are you?"

A: “Alexa Pearson, you?”

Y: "Y/n Y/L/N"

A: “How the hell am I talking to you through my notebook? Where you are from?"

Y: “England. I'm a student at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, how about you? What school of magic do you belong to? ”

A: "I'm not going to any magic school, I'm from New York, there's no such thing here!"

Y: "I thought the United States school of magic was Ilvermorny"

A: "I am not a witch!"

Y: "Oh by Merlin, are you a muggle?"

A: "Look, I may not be a witch but you don't have to curse me!"

Y: “Muggle is a term for non-wizards ... But if you are not a witch, how can you talk to me? This notebook is bewitched, only those who have contact with magic could see it ”

A: "I didn't know that the notebook was enchanted until now ... I didn't even know about the existence of a school of magic, wizards, yes, now schools? No, things are very different here"

Y: "Different how?"

A: "I am a camper at Camp Half-Blood"

Y: "And what would that be?"

A: "A camp for demigods of course!"

Alexa waited, but nothing else happened. She looked up at Apollo, who looked as upset as she was.

“School of Magic and Witchcraft of... Hogwarts?” She asked, hoping that Apollo would say something to her.

“I've heard of that school. Hecate loves to talk about how she has an entire chain of schools that teach children to do what she does. She is very proud of it.” He explained, taking the notebook from Alex and examining the last conversation. “I just didn't think it was real at all. All the gods think it's Hecate's invention, but no one has ever tried to prove it.”

“Well, I think we just did that.” Alex joked, but was far from feeling the fun of the situation, because, there in front of her, there was a problem. Perhaps a much bigger problem than she imagined.

tagging mutuals: @nebulablakemurphy @jamilelucato @inglourious-imagines @clarissaxpearce @beiahadid @idontknowwhatthisisfam @kpopgirlbtssvt @shinydragoness @snitches-at-dawn @freddieweasleyswife

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kamosweasley · 3 years

Text

Won’t you pull me through ? (Fred and George Weasley)

Description : Amber meet her friend Emily to take a tea and they talk about the war and the twins. It’s inspired by the song Trouble by Cage The Elephant.

Word count : 2.2K

Warning : angst, mention of death, torture, scars, death and mental illness.

Lyrics from Trouble by Cage The Elephant are in italics.

Tag list : @memekingofwwiii

After knocking at the door, Emily entered with her brighter smile. It's been a while since she's had the opportunity to see her friend, the last few months have been a mess in the wizarding world with the death of Voldemort and the end of the war. She's doing her best but she's still overwhelmed, although the smile of Amber makes it all go away within a second.

-Hey love.

-Emily ! It's been a long time since the last time I saw you around ! How are you ?

-Pretty good, things are exhausting lately but we have to deal with it. We're in the middle of reconstruction, it's normal that things are moving fast.

-This is a good thing, this terrible year is finally behind us. Do you know how well the reconstruction is progressing at Hogwarts?

-McGonagall supervises, so it's efficient and almost done. She must be a great principal, she is what the students need after the trauma of war.

-I don't even want to imagine the condition that some people must be in, a whole year being tortured by sadistic deatheaters when they were only children …

The two friends sat down at a table to drink the tea Amber had prepared in advance. There is a silence following Amber's sentence, Emily looking at her with a hint of concern. Rare are the people who have not suffered from war and who do not continue to suffer from it today. Some have experienced more painful things than others, such as Amber who was imprisoned and tortured during the war at the Malfoy mansion. It was in the last month before the Battle of Hogwarts, she was able to escape thanks to Dobby, with Luna and Ollivander. Emily hadn't been able to see her before the Battle of Hogwarts a month later, she didn't seem to have experienced all the horrors she told her afterwards. On the battlefield she looked like a warrior determined to win, even at the risk of her life. She was unstoppable, and she survived. They both survived, not everyone was so lucky.

-Now all these assholes are either in jail or dead. My only regret is not being able to get revenge on Bellatrix before Molly killed her. That bitch left awful scars on me, and since they were made with black magic it can't be removed.

-You talk about it like it's nothing, so you feel better ?

-It was hard at first, the first few weeks after the battle I felt like I didn't recognize myself. When I looked in the mirror, I saw a stranger. But it's been getting better for a while, I feel good.

-I’m glad to hear it. You know that everyone is worried about you, you haven't had an easy time of it.

-There are some who have been through worse, I keep breathing and I have resumed a normal life. I think I’m doing well. Doesn't it look like it ?

-You seem peaceful … After what happened

-Can we talk about something else ? This war has already hurt us enough, don’t you think so ?

-Obviously.

A little annoyed, Amber finished her cup of tea, her hands slightly shaking. Nothing impressive, but Emily notices it, which awakens the worry inside her. She doesn't know what to do, maybe she should apologize for bringing it up. Obviously the blonde didn't want to talk too long about it. With a fleeting look in her eyes, Amber tucks a strand of her long hair behind her ear. The room suddenly seems to her empty and hostile, she loves Emily but talking about the war remains something that makes her uncomfortable. She much prefers to talk about the future and all the joyful things that await them. This is what helps her get better, telling herself tomorrow will be better and she always has the people she loves with her. She will be able to live that future with them. A smile appears on her face, speaking of joy she immediately thinks of them. Her two rays of sunshine.

-I have received the new catalog from George and Fred's store. Have you seen it ? It's still so colorful, it's good to see all these colors in this sad world. Wait, I'll show it to you, I think I put it over there.

The blonde leaves the table to rummage through the drawers of her dresser as Emily looks at her. We had talked to her about it but she wasn't expecting it, how is it possible ?

-Oh Amber …

-What ? You already saw it ? You can tell me, I'm just trying to talk about my best friends. Maybe you went to the store not long ago, it's still fantastic isn’t it ? This place exudes a good mood, if I could I would spend all of my days there.

-Did you go back ?

-Of course ! George and Fred wouldn't talk to me anymore if I wasn't their best customer. I love them so much, I'm glad the war doesn't change them. They are still funny and malicious, they always have been. You know, I think people don't realize how wonderful they are.

-I have never laughed so much as with them, they have always been very funny.

-You see ? That's what I said. I grew up with them, we did so many silly things together but we had so much fun !

-I know, you had few problems because of them. They always took you in their pranks, you were driving the professors crazy. They found you calm and studious, they didn't understand why you were doing this.

-Do you know this song ? It says “trouble on my left, trouble on my right, I’ve been facing trouble almost all my life.” That’s on growing with George and Fred. You learn to like problems and to be clever enough to make it good.

-I can imagine. Which song is it ?

-Trouble by Cage The Elephant. You should listen to it one day, it’s really great. It reminds me of my friendship with George and Fred.

-Because they always put you in trouble ?

-Not only that, and to be honest I’ve always loved it. These are the best moments of my life, the three of us always had fun as kids. It's not really the same anymore …

The silence remains, for a moment you can see a shadow on Amber's face, revealing suffering. The mask falls, she has not moved on as she claims, she is still haunted by what happened. We can not say that she is an exceptional case, it was war, but Amber is a special case.

-I miss them, they don’t come often but they’re busy with their shop. Business is running for them, they deserve it. They work so hard for their shop.

-Amber, you know very well that their store has not reopened.

-What the hell are you talking about ? Of course it reopened ! I went there, I helped them put everything back in place.

-It's not possible Amber. The store is still closed, and there is no new catalog.

-But I was there! I know it better than you do, I didn't imagine it ! Were you there to help them with the store ? I don't remember seeing you there, so how can you say it's impossible ? You didn't go back to Diagon Alley ? How can you say the store is closed ? It is not closed !

-Amber …

-IT’S NOT CLOSED ! Damn it, where is this damn catalog !

Now she’s crying, all her body is shaking. Her hands are clenched to the chest of drawers, the white knuckles, she’s so tense. It seems as if the slightest word or gesture could make her explode. Unsure of what to do, Emily gets up and starts walking towards her friend. She wants to comfort her, to tell her that everything will be okay, but that would be lying. It’s been a while now and it's not going to get any better visibly. Yet seeing her like this tears her heart out, she wishes there was something she could do to make her feel better.

-I’m sorry Amber.

-Don’t … Don’t say this, you have nothing to be sorry about.

-We both know isn’t true.

-Why did you come ? I thought you wanted to talk like in the good old days, not that you wanted to bring up all the pain. The war has taken something from all of us, it's time to stop it and take it back.

-Unfortunately it doesn't work like that, we can't take back what it took from us. The dead cannot be brought back to life.

-No one should have died.

They can only agree on this point, this war should not have taken place and it should not have taken so many lives. Emily is standing in the middle of the room, Amber still in front of the dresser but she is almost shaking. The tears are already drying on her cheeks but she doesn't seem to care, she keeps scratching the inside of her right hand with her index. Worries fill Emily's thoughts, she feels like she's screwed up all over the place. She was hoping that she could make things better, make Amber feel better, but she's not worried that she's robbed her even more.

-Please leave, I need some quiet.

The blonde takes a cassette from one of the drawers of the chest of drawers, with red eyes she inserts it into a cassette player. The music begins as she leaves the room with a heavy heart. How did her friend get there ? After closing the door, Emily lets out a sigh. Things are worse than she expected, Amber is still in denial. The real version of the story is much sadder than Amber's version. She really escaped the Malfoy mansion in April after being tortured, she wasn’t that good but it’s the Battle of Hogwarts who makes her fall. She was on a fine line, fighting for her survival and to save her loved ones. She was fighting against her own sanity during the battle, every second, every move, every thought was a step forward. She was winning, seeing a glimmer of hope when Voldemort died. Her first reaction was to laugh at having a hard time breathing, it was over, they had won, she had won. So she ran through the castle to find her two best friends, she had seen them during the battle but was unable to join them at that time. They were finally going to be reunited, to be again the trio they always have been. No matter what they had gone through, they had survived and they will be able to rebuild themself together.

Nobody can imagine the pain that hit her when she saw the two dead bodies on the ground. It was like the blast of an explosion, in less than a second her world collapsed. They were all she had, she has been an orphan for years, an only child, Fred and George were all that mattered to her. Thus broke the spirit of the young woman

-She hasn't progressed since May …

-It can take a long time before she may feel ready to accept the truth. She knows it but she needs to do it all again.

-But how much longer ? She's not going to stay locked up here all her life !

-When she accepts reality and gets over it, she can return to live with her family.

-She has no family left, her parents died years ago and she had no one else. And the twins died too ... I'm afraid she has no family left.

The lyrics of the song can be heard through the door, from what she hears, Emily understands how this music speaks so much to Amber. “My sweet love, won’t you pull me through ? Everywhere I look I catch a glimpse of you.” It must be horrible to lose your two best friends, even more when you think of them as your brothers, your last family. She really lost everything that day, even her sanity.

~~~~

“God don’t let me lose my mind.” She sings with this whole heart, eyes closed and serenity filling the room. She knows the lyrics by heart, it became her favorite song because it reminds her of them. When she opens her eyes she faces the twins, sitting at the table. They exchange a mischievous look before looking at her, it's like when they were young. A blink of an eye and they are three children facing each other, mischievous and innocent. Then teenagers, running through Hogwarts to escape Filch, out of breath but having fun. It's only onto the common room they can relax, out of danger. Fred told Amber that it's her turn to do it, so she takes his wand and puts it on the map. Surrounded by his two best friends, Amber open her eyes and as a tear falls, she whispers :

-Mischief managed.

#george weasley #george weasley fic #george weasley imagine #george weasley angst #fred weasley #fred weasley fic #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley angst #weasley twins

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mortemersgf · 4 years

Text

dangerous waters

distant shores: oliver x f!mc and edward mortemer x f!mc (jade hearst)

summary: jade puts her relationship with oliver at risk when she rescues edward and henry.

warnings: violence (threats)

tags: @crazynutella @princess-geek @bitchloveskcbaseball

‼️ PLEASE SIGN THIS PETITION DEMANDING JUSTICE FOR GEORGE FLOYD‼️ Justice for George Floyd

Jade moans in pain, curling herself into a ball. Her stomach aches so much it hurts to breathe. She was knocked out cold when the soldiers tossed her in the room. Her arms and legs are tied together with thick ropes, and if that isn’t enough, her eyes and mouth are secured with bandanas. Deprived of sight and speech, Jade focuses on her hearing.

It’s eerily quiet where she is. There’s no muffled voices or shuffling footsteps outside her door. Jade can’t tell if that’s a good sign or not. She could either be guarded heavily by skilled soldiers, who don’t move or breathe or speak, or someone has left her in an abandoned part of the ship where no one ever drops by. Either way, she’s not liking it. It smells of damp wood and sawdust where she’s at, making her nose wrinkle with distaste. Jade suddenly misses the smell of Henry’s cooking and Charlie’s rum.

With a deep breath, she grunts and pushes herself up into a sitting position. She begins to scoot along the wooden floorboards in her bindings, making sure to stick close to the wall so she can feel for a door. Her stomach twinges with pain as she moves. Every couple of seconds, she has to stop to take a breath. Everything is going to be fine. Charlie is going to come soon. The crew is more than capable of rescuing us, she tells herself.

Jade pauses and tugs at her mouth restraint using her shoulder and cheek but to no avail. With a frustrated sigh, she relaxes against the ship’s wall and inhales deeply. I’ve got to find Edward. For all I know, they’ve let him bleed to death already.

Just when she’s about to scoot again, she hears the sound of boots clicking against wood. It seems to grow louder and louder by the second.

“Nrrngg! Mrmm!” Jade murmurs. She erratically stomps her boots, hoping whoever is out there is kind enough to pop in and relieve her of her restraints. The ropes are starting to dig into her skin, but as as soon as the thought arises, it vanishes. She sighs. Please. They are not going to spare me a glance. They’ll probably add more ropes. So she slumps against the wall again, counting down the days until Charlie and the rest of the crew bust in and sweep her, Henry, and Edward back onto the Revenge.

The clicking stops. There’s the sound of wood creaking and a door swinging open. A small gust of wind follows after.

“Nhhmg?” Jade straightens up against the wall. Her hands ball up into fists, alert.

“Ah, here you are,” someone with a familiar British accent says. “I was looking all over for you.”

Oliver!

She catches the faint smell pinewood as his arms brush against her cheeks, working away to undo her bindings.

“Nmhhph—ha… Oliver!” Finally free of restraints, Jade takes a couple of deep breaths and grabs at her red wrists. Her jaw feels cramped and her head aches with dull throbs.

The pain feels familiar. It reminds her vaguely of how she feels after her classmates plummet her with accidental punches and slaps to the face in stage-fighting class. Though usually she’d be tucked in bed under her soft covers with an ice pack pressed to her cheek by now.

She winces and looks up at Oliver.

He’s in his uniform, his sword sitting by his hip. Seeing the blade evokes the memory of him thrusting it into Edward’s shoulder, prying out a cry of pain from the captain. It makes Jade rigid with fury, but she blinks, forcing herself to shove the recollection into the depths of her mind.

Oliver gives her a lopsided smile as he untie the ropes that bind her legs together. The man before her seems so different now. She doesn't know if she can ever see him the same again, and she doesn’t know if she wants to.

He’s acting as if nothing happened, and that angers Jade. The same hands that are untying me are also the ones that hurt Edward. Do not forget that. She feels the onset of hot tears pooling in her eyes and lets out a frustrated huff. Tentatively, in a small voice, she asks, “Where is he?”

Oliver stiffens for a slight moment before saying, “One would usually say ‘thank you’ when someone does them a favor, but because it’s you… I’ll make an exception.”

He drops the thick ropes, the smile on his face fading away when he sees the cold look on Jade’s face. She has to physically stop herself from bursting into laughter at what he said.

“You want me to thank you for releasing me? Should I also thank you for stabbing my captain? Keeping me captive in this room for who knows how long? Letting your men kick and punch me in the stomach so hard it hurts to breathe? Because in that case, thank you. Thank you very much, Oli—no, Lieutenant.” Jade spits.

She pours all the hurt, all the betrayal she feels into the words, hoping Oliver realizes that what he did is unforgivable. She stands, ignoring the way his face crumples into an apologetic look.

Oliver takes a step closer, his fingers brushing against her jawline. With a small sigh, he pulls away and drops his hand. “Jade, I… I apologize deeply for everything. I wasn’t aware they treated you so awfully. I will reprimand them all. Harshly”—he taps the hilt of his sword—“With a sword, if you’d like.”

“It’s not going to change anything, so forget it.” Jade mutters.

She wants to thank him and kick him at the same time, so she does neither, choosing to stretch out her limbs instead. It’s been hours, maybe a day, since she was thrown into the little, dark room. She can’t remember. Time is hard to keep track of when the only thing she can think of is Edward’s well being.

Jade surveys her surroundings, trying to find the best way out. Her hand drifts down to her side where her sword and pistol should be. And of course, they got confiscated. She mutters a curse under her breath.

Oliver watches her move. He takes note of the way her eyes flit to the door every now and then and discreetly steps in front of her, blocking her from the exit. He takes off his hat and runs a hand through his hair, looking slightly on edge.

“Why did you lie to me?” he asks, his voice low.

Jade shifts her gaze to him. She stares at him for a long moment before shaking her head and saying, “We’re not going to do this right now, Oliver.”

“I told you I was a lieutenant in the Royal Navy that night, but you didn’t mention a thing about you and Captain Mortemer being friends. Or on the same crew, for that matter.”

“Because I’m loyal to him! Edward—”

“Edward? I see the two of you are friendlier than I expected.” The jealousy in his voice is thick.

Jade heaves a deep sigh, not wanting to continue the conversation. There’s no point.

Oliver, however, starts to pace around, nodding to himself. Finally, he stops and looks at her, a sharp look in his eye. “He’s a pirate.”

“So I’ve heard,” Jade scowls. “Why do you care? You didn’t even acknowledge me when I first appeared on your ship.”

“I had to capture Edward.”

“By stabbing him when he’s distracted because you know you can’t beat him?”

A hurt look flashes across Oliver’s face before he conceals it with a humorless laugh. “It was a dishonorable move, but had there been any other way, I would’ve taken it. I don’t understand why—”

“You don’t need to,” Jade snaps, cutting him off.

An uncomfortable silence settles between them. The sunlight that floods through the window behind her highlights the dust that’s floating around. It captures her attention. The specks land on the ground, her shoes, and the sacks of potatoes in the corner of the room. It’s everywhere. Jade focuses on everything else instead of the man standing in front of her.

“I’m guessing you’re not going to tell me where Edward is,” she says, breaking the quiet.

Oliver refuses to meet Jade’s gaze, looking pointedly away. “No, I’m following orders.”

“Can you at least tell me what you’re planning to do with him?”

He doesn’t answer.

“You can tell me,” Jade coaxes, taking a step towards him. “I’m only one person. I can’t take down dozens of armed men on my own.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that. You seem like you’re capable of many things.” Oliver speaks coolly, a cold glint in his eyes. The Oliver from the tavern, the one laughing and shielding her from the navy officers, feels like a figment of her imagination now.

Jade’s hands involuntarily curl up into fists. This is it. I can’t take him down, but I know—I hope he’s not going to hurt me.

He adjusts his hat, turning away to leave.

“Taking down the Royal Navy is going to be one of them,” Jade blurts, “so step aside because I don’t want to hurt you.”

Oliver stops in his tracks. He turns around, jaw set. But his voice is soft as he speaks. There’s a hint of remorse in his gaze. “Nor I, Jade.”

Jade opens her mouth to retort but stops short when she notices shadows passing behind her. She spins around upon hearing the clanging of metal and gruff voices speaking quickly, tiptoeing a bit in order to look out the window. What she sees makes her stomach churn with dread.

Henry is getting shoved along by two soldiers. They force him to his knees next to a bloodied Edward, who’s leaned against a pole and shackled with chains.

“What’s going on? What’s happening to them?” Jade demands. She faces Oliver, eyes wide.

“Admiral’s orders,” he says, “Captain Mortemer and the other man are to be publicly executed in London. They’re taking the boat home.”

“Are you here to escort me, then? Am I joining them?”

“No. No, you’re… staying here.”

“Staying here,” Jade repeats. She narrows her eyes. “How did that come to be?”

Oliver swallows, visibly unsettled. He casts a look at the ground before opening his mouth to explain. “It’s selfish of me, but I couldn’t bear letting you die for something you had no part in, so I—”

“Stop.” Jade cuts him off before he can say anything else. She leans over, clutching her aching stomach. She hasn’t eaten, but she thinks she’s going to hurl. This can’t be happening. “Can I…” Her voice cracks. She digs her teeth into her lower lip and takes a deep breath.

“Can I at least say goodbye?” she asks, her voice steadier.

Without waiting for an answer, she pushes her hair back and brushes past Oliver. Jade flings the door open, sprinting down the hallway onto the main deck. An absurd plan forms in her head as she screams for the crewmen to stop. Oliver trails after her. He doesn’t hear it, but she mumbles, “Sorry.”

Outraged soldiers cry out with irritation as Jade squeezes past them, shoving away crewmen who’re handling Edward too roughly. One of them grabs her by the arm, but Oliver halts him with a glare.

“Miss Hearst,” Edward breathes. He moves his chained arms, longing to run his hands through her hair and caress her cheek. Jade holds his face in her hands gently, pressing her forehead against his. Their chests rise up and down with relieved breaths seeing each other alive.

“I’m here, Edward. Everything’s going to be okay,” Jade whispers. “I… I have a plan. Just trust me, okay? I’m not going to let them take you away.” She pushes his matted hair back, her touch light and careful. Blood and dirt soak his tattered clothes but even then, he looks handsome.

Please, please, please, please… Jade knows exactly what she’s praying for. A miracle. She wishes all of their pistols are empty of bullets. She wishes their blades are dull. She wishes a mutiny would erupt right now. She wishes Oliver would call the whole thing off. She wishes she has more time.

Edward shakes his head, his face twisting into one of pain and worry. He grunts as a sharp pain shoots through his shoulder. With gritted teeth, he mutters, “Don’t do it. Don’t risk your life for me.”

“I told you back at Tiburon that I’d be very upset if something happened to you, so I’m doing this. I can’t let you die.” Jade mumbles.

Her thumbs are growing numb with fear as she rubs slow circles into Edward’s skin. She brushes her nose against his, angling her head until her lips fit his. She tastes copper from his blood as she kisses him. With a shaky sigh, she pulls away just far enough to take in the pained expression on his face. She presses another kiss to his lips, harder this time. Edward groans, leaning forward so their chests are flush against each other.

“This is not how I imagined our first kiss to happen,” Jade says, breathless.

“Aye, me neither…” Edward chuckles bitterly.

Oliver clears his throat. He stands there, stiff as a log, as he watches the two. When Jade looks at him, all she sees is a stony faced lieutenant who looks like he’s about to lose his patience any moment. She decides then, that the Oliver from the tavern was indeed a figment of her imagination. It’s easier this way.

“It’s time,” he says.

Jade nods, pulling away from Edward with a sniff. She glances at Henry. “Are you okay?”

“Aye, lass. They bandaged Captain’s wound but shackled him up like he’s a thief. Buncha scurvy dogs.” he says. Henry looks up at one of the navy officers and spits at him, earning a repulsed yelp from the officer.

Jade rises, giving Oliver a pleading look. He tentatively lays a hand on her shoulder, saying, “I’m sorry it has to end this way.”

“Oliver,” Jade says, burying herself in his chest. Her hands skim down his sides. “I’m so sorry.”

She unsheathes his sword, swinging it around until it’s pressing against his neck. Her grip on the hilt is so tight her knuckles are white, and her nails dig into her palm. Nevertheless, she stands tall and keeps her other hand on his shoulder to keep him in place.

Oliver’s crewmen dart forward, but Jade takes a couple of steps back, pulling the lieutenant tight against her body. “Take another step and your esteemed lieutenant is gonna get hurt. Very. Badly.”

They stop in their tracks and look to Oliver for instructions. His breaths are shallow, and he speaks slowly, “You’re not going to hurt me.”

“Release Edward and Henry, and I promise you I won’t.” Jade cocks her head at the officers who were about to load the them onto the boat, saying, “You heard me.”

They make quick work of freeing the two men of their restraints before scrambling away. Jade lets out a small sigh as she watches Henry prepare to launch the boat.

Edward grimaces, touching his wound. “Drop the sword, Miss Hearst.”

She drops her hand to her side but keeps her hand wrapped around the handle.

A navy officer sprints forward with a yell but Oliver growls, “Stand down.”

He spins around, snarling, “But Lieutenant—”

“I said. Stand. Down.” Oliver’s voice shakes as the last two words leave his lips. Something along the lines of rage and helplessness fill his eyes as he watches Edward wrap Jade into a tight embrace.

“‘Tis going to be alright…” Edward murmurs into her hair.

Jade swallows, solace filling her body from head to toe. She indulges in the hug for another moment before facing Oliver. “When you realize the Admiral is nothing but a sorry excuse for a human being,” she says, stepping onto the boat, “find me. I’ll buy you all the drinks you want and apologize to you again.”

Oliver touches his neck gingerly. The look strung on his hardened face is icy enough to send shivers down her spine.

She flashes an apologetic look at him, not that it’s any use. “Until then… I hope we don’t run into each other again.”

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