#i know you all want to stew in your righteousness but that isn't going to get you where you want to be

[terryfuckingturniptruck]

Alright, here we go again. I'm sorry that you all want to feel righteous and just but not voting or voting third party is only going to make everything worse. Of course the dems are fucked up politicians too but if you are going to just not vote for anyone bc of the genocide, then you are voting indirectly for that orange fucker to be back in office. And not only is he for the genocide in Palestine, he is for various other types of genocide and other egregious behaviors as we've seen.

[wishing-stones]

Your nightmare is so interesting! I find it so fun that the feud between dream and nightmare is mostly just sibling rivalry! Do you have any other fics where this type of thing happens?

Not yet, but when they pop up in other fics, this is generally how their relationship goes.

Have a freebie for how they got this way, though:

They used to fight like it was life or death-- Nightmare has been stewing for five centuries over how he perceived his brother betrayed him.

Still...

He's the only real family that Nightmare has. He visited a few times while Dream was still a statue (especially on their birthday, which, coincidentally, is coming up) and talked... at him to air some of his grievances.

Dream was conscious the entire time, so when he broke out of the stone and got his feet under him (learned how to fight, learned his way around the multiverse, made important connections and friends, etc.) he absolutely went hell bent for leather looking for his brother.

They fought hard initially because Nightmare finally had a real target to take his frustrations out on, and Dream was righteously angry that Nightmare could think for even a second that any of what he did was intentional.

They both got badly hurt and had to spend time recovering, and a great deal of their spats afterwards had the same outcome; they'd stop lobbing actual attacks and dissolve into screaming matches.

At this point, Nightmare doesn't even care about the golden apple anymore-- he has everything he could ever need or want. He's comfortable, he has reliable friends (family, really, but he won't admit that) and he's got his own very nice digs. He maintains negative emotions throughout AUs like one might maintain a garden, and this... causes him to come into conflict with his brother trying to do the same thing with positive emotions.

He's come to realize that their balance is necessary to keep the multiverse going. Yin and yang, shadow and light, day and night, never one without the other.

Doesn't stop Dream from being annoying, though.

He plays nice for their birthday and does get his brother something nice to leave where he'll find it. Dream isn't stupid. He knows, but he also knows that Nightmare is too proud to actually own up to it in person.

On the other side of the coin, Dream was incredibly upset that his brother thought all those things about him, but...

...Well, Nightmare was right in some instances. Dream did do a lot of wandering too far away from the thing they were supposed to protect. He told his brother his concerns were unfounded, that the people were nice...

But they were also children. They were eight. Children make mistakes, and they had no one to teach them how to do what they had to do.

(This actually makes them both a little bitter, but bygones are bygones, and to Dream, there's no use dwelling on the past because nothing will undo it.)

Dream is content to play this little game with Nightmare, as it's far and away preferable to actually fighting. He'd like to actually talk things out one day, but that might take a while.

Not only does he have to contend with Nightmare's pride, he has to contend with the curse itself, which keeps Nightmare still very bitter about its aquisition.

...They really just need to have a good old fashioned brother brawl that devolves into tears and then talk about it.

[beyondtheciouds]

Vampires, Stale Scones, and Lucie Herondale

Part 1.

Lucie was in way over her head.

 Her body trembled as she bit down on her lower lip to keep from sobbing or screaming, she isn’t sure which. Panicked, all she can think about is the pretty boy’s gleaming fangs. Oh, if only I had listened. She had gotten herself into more than a dilly of a pickle this time. I should have been more careful, she thinks, frowning. A frustrated sigh escapes her chapped lips, knowing all too well the trouble she’s in. Her lips, puffy, and sliced up turn down as she pries the bent hairpin into the lock for the hundredth time. “Ugggghhh.” She wriggles her wrist, sore, and raw underneath the metal handcuff. James…where are you?

Lucie’s ink-stained fingers are a blur as her hands twist and turn the pin in the keyhole, hoping for a break. She all but tries not to think of the fanged boy or the hungry way he had stared at her. 

Beautiful was the first word that had come to her mind when he appeared last night. A silhouette against the light of the moon, he had snuck into her cell and stood beside the pole she was chained to. He was watching her the way a predator might watch prey. He kept sniffing the air and licking his lips. 

Lucie tried to act unnerved but her blood was heating and her skin was tingling. She felt disgusting; her dress torn and ruined; stained with her blood.  Her face and hands were dirty, the nails on her fingers bitten down to the quick from nerves and pain.

His face was arresting. Much like Jesse’s, it had made her heart stop. Sharp lines and all angles, his face had shapes that made sense on statues. Long lashes made his eyes wider and cherub lips could have easily disguised the boy as an angel. Lucie knew better, or she thought she did when she stared back into his gleaming red eyes. 

Lucie hears shuffling and looks up, almost hopeful. It has been two days since Grace kidnapped her and brought her to this prison tower. Damp and smelling worse than Bridget’s infamous cabbage stew, Lucie found herself repeatedly gagging or gasping for air during the night. Desperate to get out of her nightmarish fairytale, she had thought about calling to the dead for help, like she had before, but the thought of those rotting and decaying bones in the corner rising to greet her had her dismissing the idea instantly. Gast.

 A glance up and amongst the cobwebs, she discovers a window carved into the stone. It is small, but she knows she will be able to fit. It is about thirty feet up and Lucie wonders if she ought to try and scale the wall once she’s able to break the lock. Noises and voices in the stairwell cause her to refocus and stare into the dark. She stuffs the pin back into her hair, mousey curls half hanging down her back. “James?” she whispers, her blue eyes peering eagerly into the shadows. “Is that you?”

Unexpectedly, Tatiana turns the corner. Her face is stern and her eyes are hard and unforgiving under the pale yellow light of mundane candles. Lucie immediately shrinks back into the darkness, unintentionally pulling on her restrained wrist. She gives a little yelp of pain as Tatiana appears before Lucie’s cell. Lucie struggles to catch her breath.

 A smile is on Tatiana’s wicked face, “Oh, your brother isn’t coming to save you, dear.” She spits the word at Lucie and clasps her hands in front of her. 

Lucie scowls, kicking the six stale scones off the plate and onto the ground. “He will save me. You don’t know my brother. He and his friends will go to the ends of the earth for me.“

Grace snorts at Lucie as she stops beside her mother. Her gray eyes are cool and calm, matching the man all decked out in silver moving to stand beside her. “Sorry, Lucie. Not this time.”

“What have you lunatics done with James!? I demand to know!” Lucie screams, her knees giving out. She drops to the ground, refusing to cry. 

The man slowly raises a silver eyebrow at Lucie, pulling her attention to him. His arms are crossed over his chest and the robes he wears sway around his ankles without a breeze. Lucie glares at the man, getting to her feet. She can’t help but noticing that he isn't young or old, but he looks young enough to be her father. Middle-age. The more she stares, the more she feels an odd sense of recognition and the man somehow seems older to her than he looks. Lucie can’t shake it. The feeling, it’s like a parent that won’t give up nagging. His eyes are deep and fathomless, saturated like small stars. Those eyes remind her of somewhere… someone.

The silver man grins, his perfect teeth stark white against his skin.  “So this is the darling Lucie,” he croons, his voice thick and sickly sweet like honey. The way he says her name strikes a chord in Lucie and it makes her more apprehensive. “Beautiful and sweet.”

Lucie scowls at the man, goosebumps flooding her flesh as she pulls her manners together. “You may refer to me as Miss Herondale, Mr…?”

The man grins and it is not friendly, “How is your mother, darling? You must tell her and your father I say hello.”

“Who are you?” Lucie squints, still feeling shaken and it isn’t just the man’s offbeat smile or the strange look in his eye.

“Oh, Lucie. Tsk, tsk that you cannot recognize your own kin.” He smiles, deadly and determined to shatter her mind. “I am Belial, your grandfather.”

Lucie gasps, her blue eyes wide with a new fear. “No. You can’t be..”

Tatiana smiles and takes a slight pleasure in the shock on Lucie’s face. Lucie had forgotten she was watching the sideshow.  “You did not know, my dear? James did not mention Belial to you?” she asks, eager for a taste of Lucie’s misery. If she can’t destroy Will right now, she’ll settle for starting with his children.

Lucie grimaces, pulling her gaze from the man calling himself her grandfather. She turns and eyes Grace accusingly, “We have a deal, Grace. Remember?”

Grace smiles bitterly, ”We had a deal, past tense.”

“I don’t understand,” Lucie says, scratching her head. She plays dumb for the audience, but she knows this is really between her and Grace. 

Grace’s face is concrete; hard and unforgiving like her mother’s. “Don’t play dumb, Lucie. I saw you.”

“What did you see?” Lucie has to ask politely, but she is scowling.

Grace sighs and shuts her mouth. At least she has the decency to keep Lucie’s secret from Tatiana and Belial. Her gray eyes are steel and Lucie knows what Grace knows. I saw you kissing Matthew. 

Lucie chews on her bottom lip. The kisses;  moments that were stolen between her and her brother’s parabatai had happened more than once. Actually, in the last few weeks, it had been many times, more than Lucie was willing to admit to.  Lucie thought they were being discreet. She hadn’t wanted to tell anyone although Matthew wanted to put his family ring on her finger and shout his love for her from London’s rooftops. Lucie thought about it and Cordelia nearly had convinced her that she could heal Matthew; fix him. 

Lucie knew which time Grace had been referring to. That night Lucie had felt the chill of a ghost on her back and she knew it wasn’t Jessamine.

 One mistake made under the moonlight in Brocelind Forest had caused this nightmare of a mess. The last two days she had been telling herself she wasn’t in love with Matthew. She kept making her mind believe she had made a huge mistake and would make it up to Jesse. Math was like a brother to her… wasn’t he? Jesse was the one for her. 

She was Jesse’s girl.

Belial looks on unfazed by the tantrums of two girls. His silver eyes remain on Lucie as if she is a prize-winning animal, his smile thin at the secrets the girls hold between them. “Well now, what do you have to say for yourself, darling?”

“Where is my brother?” Lucie demands again, ignoring his question. She turns cold, blue eyes to him. She gives it her best shot. “I want to speak to Jamie.” 

“James is indisposed at the moment. He will be along to join you shortly, my darling.” Belial says, waiting for her to calm down. “For now, let’s talk about your powers.”

Lucie is horrified but tries to play it cool. How does he know about her abilities? She furrows her brown eyebrows, trying to be steel although she withers like a flower inside. “I have no demon powers, I do not have a clue as to what you are talking about.” Lucie pauses and then takes a tentative step forward out of the darkness and into the sunlight streaming in from the window. “I want to see my brother.” She stomps her feet like she did when she was seven and James blamed her for setting the couch on fire.

Belial chuckles, the sound reverberating through the hollow hallway.”Oh, you are a firey darling, aren’t you?” He pauses, considering. “You remind me of your mother at that age. She was beautiful, all passion and righteousness.“ He smiles, the insidiousness at her mother’s chosen life direct. “Your mediocre Shadowhunter future isn’t far off from hers, darling.”

 “Stop calling me that!” Lucie shouts as she tugs on her shackled wrist, her heart pounding in her chest. 

 “Oh, Little Lucie how you underestimate yourself. I suppose, my darling you would. Being second to James and all.”

 He is testing her, that much Lucie had already figured out. She keeps her mouth shut, letting the fact that she is usually overlooked when it comes to Jamie simmer in her blood. She will store that fuel inside her head and use it later on the lock when they are gone. 

Scuffling in the stairwell and shouting causes Tatiana and Grace to turn their attention away from Lucie. Several long moments later, noises in the hallway send unwelcome shivers up Lucie’s spine as Belial grins at her. Lucie’s mouth is suddenly dry and her eyes dart towards the sounds. James? Cordelia?

 A moment passes and then the fanged boy from last night appears in the shadows of the mundane torches. Several of the torches line the wall across from her cell. They emit a very low light, casting ominous shadows. The hall is dark, but Lucie can still see every detail of the fanged boy’s face. Impatient and nervous, she shuffles her feet. 

The shadows move and Lucie notices the fanged boy is dragging another boy by his hands. The boy is dressed in familiar gear and is kicking and screaming. His hair is a mop of sunshine that Lucie recognizes.

 ”Heathen from the underworld let me go! I am the Consul’s son and you are hereby violating the accords, vampire!“ 

The fanged boy is undaunted by the other boy’s antics and continues to drag the blonde boy towards Lucie’s cell without hesitation. Lucie blinks, not believing her eyes. Not James. Not Cordelia. Matthew. 

Matthew came to save her. 

The vampire grins and tightens his grip on the boy as he hauls him across the smooth stone floor. "Look what’ I found lurking ‘round the back,” he announces as though this spectacle is staged. “an’ he’s lookin’ for her.” The vampire jerks his head in Lucie’s direction and Belial grins approvingly. “Two dead Shadowhunters are better than one.”

Tatiana breaks a rare smile, genuinely filled with insanity. “Herondale. Fairchild. Check, check.”

“Let go!” Matthew yells again, trying to yank his hands out of the other boy’s tight grip. “My neck is far too dirty to have fangs sunk into it this early in the morning! I’m too young and beautiful to be eaten alive!”

“Relax, I’m not going to eat you, Shadowhunter.”

The fanged boy’s face is calm and collected although his lips turn up at the corners. "Turns out, I’m not very fond of angelic blood so you get to continue to sit and be chained to the pretty one.” He laughs lowly and then stops when he catches Lucie watching him. 

Matthew is still carrying on, talking fast like a maniac. The fanged boy moves in a blur. Suddenly, he is close enough that Lucie can see the color of his eyes has changed. They are no longer red, but blue like hers. Actually, as pale as ice, nearly white. Lucie takes a tiny step forward, careful not to pull her chain. She had picked up on his slight accent and now struggles to place the lilt. Ireland? Scotland? Wales? Australia?

“Let me go, you son of a—”  Matthew screams, disrupting Lucie’s thoughts on the vampire’s origin and language. Matthew is stubborn, dragging his legs then kicking the air behind him as he is pulled along. He wiggles and twists his fit body defiantly.

Lucie gasps when he turns his face towards the cell, but she is not shocked to find those familiar dark green eyes simmering with rage. “Matthew? What are you doing here?”

The door of the cell opens and Lucie rushes forwards on instinct, only to be yanked back with a yelp of pain. She steps back until the chain is loose once more. “Where’s Jamie?”

“Luce—” Matthew says on a halted breath, his eyes wide. “I came to rescue you like one of your knights in shining armor.” A charging grin sweeps onto his face as he is tossed to the floor of the cell. Lucie has never been so excited to see him in all her life. This means Jamie isn’t far behind, she thinks and smiles to herself.

 Matthew as he so often does makes the mistake of taking her eagerness for something else. “Luce,” he says again, his mouth softening. The door locks behind him with a loud clang that echoes through the tower. Matthew tries to stand when the fanged boy hauls him to his feet. He grips Matthew’s arm and pulls him over to the rotten, wooden pole that Lucie is shackled to. 

Matthew’s dark green eyes soften at the sight of Lucie alive, relief on his face clear like stream water rushing over rocks. “Are you hurt, Luce? Everyone has been out looking for you. I-I was worried for you.” He eyes her dirty dress stained with blood. “What happened? Luce, are you sure you are alright?”

Lucie breathes her own sigh of relief and her heart melts at Matthew’s genuine concern. She hastily lifts her free arm when he is pushed against her. His body curves around her and she fits beside him like she was made for him. 

The thoughts of his naked body beside hers don’t escape her and she sighs, disappointed in herself. She needs Matthew to keep quiet because she cannot have anyone knowing about the two of them and their misdeeds. She will be ruined and sent away like Eugenia.

Unless Matthew proposes and she accepts. Then she will be no better than Cordelia, settling for a lie. 

Matthew leans into her delicate shoulder and starts smelling her hair. He gently kisses the bruises on her cheek and the act is so intimate she finds herself nuzzling into him.  On instinct, his arms wrap comfortably around her waist, his strong, calloused hands rest easily on her lower back. He feels like home.

“No, Math–not really,“ Lucie says into his shoulder as she hears her heart thrumming like a drum in her ears.

“Good,” Matthew says, breathing heavily. “I’m so glad I found you, Luce. I-I mean, we would be lost without you.”

The fanged boy glances at Matthew, stunned by his honest omission to Lucie while she takes it as a grain of salt. The words bounce off her ears and she flinches. Pale blue eyes watch them for a long moment but the vampire boy does not comment when he continues to shackle Matthew’s foot to Lucie’s foot. The noises of the chain moving draw Lucie’s gaze down for only a minute before her eyes return to Matthew’s expectant face. For a moment he looks the way he did as a child; happy even in a nightmare of a situation. 

The fanged boy glances up curiously at Lucie when she isn’t looking. He smiles as the lock around her foot clicks into place. “All set, love.”

Amid her nightmare, Lucie cannot help but believe there is a deeper meaning to Matthew’s words as he stares into her eyes. Lucie is so close, she can see the sweat and stubble beading on his top lip and the bags under those brilliantly mossy eyes.

The thought of being engaged to Matthew frightens Lucie. She tells herself these wild thoughts unnerve her because she always assumed she was just a passing phase for him. Lucie had accepted the fact that she was a childhood memory that he needed to hold onto and one day would let go. Her heart is turned upside down at the truth, her mind swirling with alternative scenarios. 

Now she realizes she may have been more all along to the Consul’s second son. 

 “Where is Jamie, Math?” Lucie, asks, shoving her feelings aside. Matthew pushes a loose curl away from her eyes as the fanged boy moves away from the two of them. Lucie breathes in Matthew’s clean scent, searching for a whiff of brandy. To her delight, she finds none.

Matthew looks up, a frown forming on lips that Lucie can still feel on hers even days later. “I lost track of him when this monster,” he gestures to the fanged boy now leaning against the wall, watching the two of them with minimal curiosity. “caught me yesterday. He held me in the dungeon until now.”

Lucie wants to shake him until his brain rattles in his skull. "Matthew, did you leave Jamie behind? How could you? Where is my brother?" 

Matthew shrugs, sighing at the bombard of questions coming from Lucie. “I don’t know, Lu. I..I can’t feel any movement within my rune, but it isn’t fading either.” He pauses, sounding distant, his eyes far as he lifts the sleeve of his gear jacket to show her.  “It is unusual, Lucie.” 

Lucie wrinkles her forehead, wishing for a wooden spoon ladle to whack him with. “Where did you last see Jamie, Math? It is very, very important you remember!”

Matthew looks over at her solemnly, and it strikes Lucie how rough sobriety looks on him even as the panic about her brother sets in. “James left me five miles from here. In the forest, he heard screaming. Cordelia had been with us until she got lost after two demons attacked us. James and I killed them, but she got mixed up and ran the other direction.” He pauses, thinking. “James went off to find Cordelia. She is missing too, Lucie. You couldn’t feel it either?” He blinks, staring at the brand-new parabatai rune glistening on her pale neck. 

 Lucie’s skin heats and she rests her head on Matthew’s shoulder to hide from his intense gaze, “We have to get out of here,” she whispers. “We need to find James and Cordelia.”

Grace scowls, her iron eyes on Lucie. She has pretended not to hear Matthew and Lucie talking. “Don’t get too comfortable with Matthew, Lucie. Remember he has a bad reputation; scandalous. ” 

Grace is trying to be snide and cruel, but Lucie had never cared about Matthew’s devious past. Besides, she knew a lot more about Matthew Fairchild than she let on, nevermind that Lucie had already been corrupted by his charms. 

 And wouldn’t it be fun for a while? Something interesting to write about. A love triangle about a childhood friend, a girl, and a ghost.

 Grace continues talking over the conspirative whispers of Tatiana and Belial who are watching Lucie with strange looks on their faces. “Here’s your warning, Lucie. Jesse will be out and about soon and I know he wants to have words with you.”

Tatiana’s ears perk up and she shakes her head at the sound of her son’s name. Lucie blinks, looking up. She glares at Grace, then Tatiana. Lucie watches the ugly bird on Tatiana’s awful looking hat bobbing from side to side like it is drunk. Under pressure, she tries not to laugh like a lunatic.

“He will do no such thing. I will not have him fraternizing with these two and besides, I need him tonight.” Tatiana spits, glaring at Lucie and then Matthew.

Grace turns, perplexed. She glances at her mother and Lucie notices Belial shift, uncomfortable. “For what purpose?” Grace asks, crossing her arms over her pale pink day dress.

“Never you mind,” Tatiana says sternly to Grace. She turns on her heel as if she means business and nods her head to Belial. “Let’s be on our way. There are issues to be discussed in private. Come now, Grace and Aiden. ”

Grace shakes her finger at Lucie before following her mother. “You better not disappoint Jesse, Lucie.”

Aiden, the vampire boy bows to Lucie and then vanishes into the shadows. Belial turns to follow Tatiana, but not before he says over his shoulder, “Our conversation is not over, darling Lucie.”

***

Later on, the moon is shining and someone had left another plate of scones at the door while Lucie and Matthew were asleep. A rat pulls on one of the hard pastries with his teeth, broke and sharp. Spiders and other bugs crawl over the others. 

It’s a good thing I’m not hungry, Lucie thinks as she eyes the rodent wearily. Lucie and Matthew sit on the hay strewn stone floor chained to each other. Lucie had tried to unlock the lock around Matthew’s foot but failed miserably after several attempts.

  One would think this would be pleasant, Matthew thinks as another awkward silence consumes the space between them. He twists his hands in his lap, unsure about what to say. He didn’t mean to lose James and Cordelia, it just sort of happened.

 Lucie sits with her chained wrist over her head, sullen and dreary, lost in her own world. After several hours of being chained to her, Matthew was left to assume she didn’t want to lie to him. He considered that might be why she was keeping quiet about Jesse. 

The truth was, Matthew felt suffocated by the unexpected thought of another boy wanting his Lu.  He was jealous in a way he did not expect to be. He felt threatened.

He had spent years pining for Lucie; lost years denying himself a chance at something real with her. He had kept her and James believing it was a phase, of which he’d get over. And he did until he fell for her again. 

Now, after freeing himself of guilt and shame, he has Lucie. Opening up to her, he finds out there is someone else. Someone else who possibly loves her more than him. 

Determined to get space, Matthew had moved away from Lucie as much as he could when she refused to answer him. Now, he can no longer deal with the elephant in the room. He has to know.

”Luce,“ he begins, glancing at her. He has placed his hands on his knees, drawn up to his navel. His look is pensive as if he is afraid of her answer. The shoe had seemed to be on the other foot now. He never considered Lucie being with someone other than himself. 

It sounds selfish, but it is true.

 Lucie seems to come to life at the sound of her name on his lips. It is music to his ears as she starts humming one of her father’s light, Welsh tunes. A light brown curl falls in slow motion into her blue eyes when she turns her skyward gaze to his face. "Yes, Math?" 

Matthew is stunned by how beautiful she looks even in a dingy cell with her clothes stained and torn. Lucie belongs in a fairytale and for a brief moment, Matthew is silent as he imagines the story she could write.

To Matthew, for years she had sounded and looked like an angel. For as long as he dared to admit, Lucie Herondale had invaded his dreams. Even when he was with others, he always seemed to dream of Lucie. She had become the first dream of his life and even if this didn’t last, he would still dream of her. Nevermore than in this moment with her face turned up to his did he want her swollen lips on his, but he forced himself to ask the question he knew she didn’t want to answer instead.

 His voice is small, heartbroken. “Do you love Jesse Blackthorn?”