#George goes to the Academy AU

[everythingne]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ➛ nicoles masterlist

(to keep track of all my fics..)

MULTIPLE DRIVERS SERIES:

double dealing:

street racers!au - verse/smau/short fic

formula racing is luxurious and lucrative, everyone knows that.

but what most people don't know about is the secret races that are bet on with hand signals and whispers over radios in the dark. the double dealing. somehow, you have fallen right in.

el matador y la matadora:

sainz!sister fic

f1 academy has been dominated by Valeria Sainz for two seasons. Between beating every expectation and leading her friends to victory, the younger Sainz sibling is a perfect echo of her brother. But, when George is knocked out for a few races mid season, and she’s moved up from a Mercedes reserve, the two Sainz siblings might be the only thing that can stop total Red Bull domination.

But not everyone wants to see the praise of the Sainz siblings, and will do whatever it takes to bring them down.

akin to a pride:

F2 driver!oc

Reina 'Little Lion' Matsumoto is known for her reckless driving on the track, earning her the nickname she shares with a certain 3x WDC. Off the track, however, she's known for being bubbly, bright, and kind. When she's reached out to by F1 about joining their new 'Siblings Mentorship,' a program that will pair her with a 'similar F1 driver' as her mentor for the upcoming season, she fully expects Daniel or Lando.

Her surprise comes in the form of Max Verstappen, and though she thinks they won't be that much alike off track, she's quick to find it's quite the opposite. Reina learns she needs someone who understands what shes going through to lean on, and Max learns that sometimes healing comes in breaking a cycle that's not your own.

LANDO NORRIS

-- MARKETING PLOY (SERIES/COMPLETED)

brothers best friend, fake dating trope — smau/short fic

Everyone can see the growing tensions between Red Bull and McLaren as Lando gears up to be the next best driver under Max. The publicity of it all causes a slight issue… the people want more drama. They need more drama. So, McLaren and Red Bull make a deal—Olivia Piastri, the head analyst of Red Bull, has to pretend to date her brother’s teammate. And she can’t tell anyone it’s not a real relationship.

-- GRIPPED : UPCOMING (SERIES)

teaser! // rom-com style — smau/short fic

OSCAR PIASTRI

looking in a mirror

with porsche making a new f1 team, two new drivers enter the grid. meet the pearce siblings, rhys pearce who's been racing with charles and max since their rookie days, and his baby sister y/n 'daisy' pearce who has been sponsored by sebastian vettel since she started with logan and oscar.

when porsche chooses to separate the siblings, allowing mclaren to recruit rhys, they bring in oscar piastri and by extension, mark webber. it goes as well as most expect it to when mark and sebastian have to try and work together for their drivers' sake.

MAX VERSTAPPEN

drunk walk home

max x teammate!reader - short fic

Your relationship with your teammate is non-existent at best. It’s not because Max doesn’t like you, actually, it’s the opposite. Your sunshine persona had the man liking you too much. To keep your positions as drivers safe he keeps a wide berth, until he spots your ex-boyfriend getting a bit too rough with your tipsy self at a bar in Monaco..

wing damage (SERIES)

max x influencer!horner!reader - short fic/smau

Eldest of the Halliwell-Horner pack, Y/n “Nadine” Horner gets her heart broken by the man she’s supposed to wed in six months. Four years of love slipping down the drain faster than she can try and grasp at the remaining water droplets. But... not all hope is lost as far as the f1 community is concerned and they might be right, since Max seems to be trying to get a little closer to his Team Principals daughter.

CHARLES LECLERC

christmas in monaco

brothers best friend trope — short fic

You are Charles Leclerc’s best kept secret. Twin of his best friend, a racing prodigy, and his secret girlfriend of two years. The first six months had been secret, just to make sure you’d actually survive a relationship, but then Max said something to Charles that made the idea of ever telling him impossible. So you end up here, half in your brothers apartment half in your soon to be fiancés, trying to celebrate two Christmases in one day.

LOGAN SARGEANT

all american bitch

popstar!reader — smau and short fic

After a successful concert in Miami, your twin sister is caught having a little moment with her boyfriend outside a club. Most people jump to conclusions, but you have a way to shut everyone up (and give half of the F1 community a heart attack in the process)

out of the woods

ferrari!reader - smau/short fic

After a short break during her time as a Ferrari reserve driver, loud-mouthed driver Dhanishka Dubey resurfaces when she moves up to f1 under Ferrari. She’s back to terrorize her ex, none other than Logan Sargeant when she conquers him once again this season, just like before, just like always.

But when faced with your first love, and your only love, it's hard to let those feelings past. Especially when a relationship was prematurely ended, especially when she's everything you aren't, especially when you never got over his love.

marry me

childhood friend!reader - short fic

you and logan have danced around dating since you had met all those years ago. An impulsive kiss may lead to a big jump in your relationship

cloud circuit

business owner!student!reader - short fic/smau

Y/n Tiffany has always been a woman just outside of Logan's grasp. But a chance encounter at a bus stop and a new neighbor prove maybe somethings are meant to be. As long as he doesn't figure out her real name.

[bambi-kinos]

McLennon male/female AU

So way back in June 2022, I was talking with some friends including @dovetailjoints about this Paul McCartney manip where his face was converted to a woman's:

I promptly lost my mind on account of being a huge d*ke so I started spinning up a McLennon m/f AU about it. I still think about it a lot but I also don't know if I'll ever write it or not. Looking at @erinarigby's beautiful rendering of John and Paula reminded me of it, so I am publishing these notes for the pleasure of the reading audience.

I might still return to it at some point but I am currently waist deep in my longfic and have different projects lined up after that.

John and Paula are at the fete together but Paula is being crowned the Rose Queen or whatever it was that was happening in the background. Her best friend is Dot and her closest guy friend is Ivan and she's too busy basking in the attention of winning a competition to give a single fuck about John Lennon. She already knows her worth so who gives a fuck about that guy? They do NOT have a fateful meeting at the church hall.

(The secret is that she quietly follows him on the bus and has his route memorized. Light stalking of the teenage girl kind and I bet Dot has been helping but they treat it as a big joke.)

Ivan and Len both know Paula from school before they went to gender segregated academies or whatever. Paula actually finishes her education here because her dad wants her to do it and I bet she would have been a daddy's girl through and through. Mike is still her little brother and she vacillates between doting on him and bullying him. (Older sisters can be really mean to their younger brothers, I've noticed.)

Ivan still sings her praises to John but John does not take this in the slightest bit seriously. He and the rest are convinced Paula is Ivan's secret girlfriend (it's actually platonic between them, George is the one who carries a torch for Paula) and that Ivan wants her around so that he doesn't feel lonely at Quarry Men practice.

Things finally come to a head when Paula helps Ivan carry his tea chest bass to a QM band practice. The mythical J. Paula McCartney! (She won't tell anyone what the J stands for because it's embarrassing.) Paula's face definitely catches some unwanted attention so she deliberately plays up being Ivan's girlfriend to escape it. I imagine she's pretty cold about this kind of thing and probably much more ruthless than AMAB Paul because she has to play for keeps to be taken seriously.

Then she notices John playing with banjo chords. She says something. This goes very, very poorly.

John could take direction from an AMAB Paul who showed off his skills but Paula just rocks up and makes fun of him to his face. "She doesn't even play! Ivan, muzzle your bitch and get her out of here." Doesn't help that John is immensely taken with her but he doesn't like this at all.

Years of slapslap (no kiss) ensue, Paula eventually does make her skills known to John in someway but he's able to put her down for being a girl and therefore not a threat. I have no idea how they would both develop musically but I imagine that any attempts at a collaboration between them would go immensely poorly at this stage. John would not be able to put aside the sexism and Paula would needle him mercilessly.

Eventually though they come to a sort of détente which means that their two social spheres get some measure of peace after some 2 odd years of them screaming at each other during house parties. Everyone else can tell they want to fuck each other's brains out but they both frequently declare their public loathing of each other. For some reason John makes it his business to know what the guitar girl from Allerton is doing with her time and who she is spending it with. As she gets older this might even become a more reasonable proposition as Liverpool is still a rough neighborhood and she insists on walking home by herself after dark. Eventually she and Ivan stage a public break up so that John realizes its "over" (lol) between them and stops bothering poor Ivan about it.

George is more territorial about Paula which is cute coming from a pipsqueak that John easily has 30 pounds over. Unfortunately Paula does not see George that way.

At some point Paula becomes a bit of a woman about town and starts seriously dating men. John muscles his way into this, for some god forsaken reason, and makes a nuisance of himself running off Paula's dates. More screaming matches ensue but John seems incredibly agitated about something that Paula doesn't understand.

At some point in the détente John makes it into art college. Paula makes sure to mock him to his face for being an academic failure and reminds him that he'll never graduate because he doesn't have the guts. To this end John does in fact buckle down out of pure spite. I don't know if he would actually finish but I think he'd actually develop as a painter and a sketch artist just to show her up. I don't think John Lennon of all people could bear a beautiful woman mocking him for his inadequacy.

John might go on two dates with Cynthia but I think she would be a little unsettled at how he manages to insert Paula McCartney into every single conversation, but not in a jealous way. Cynthia tracks down Paula at some public gathering and asks her if she's being bothered by John. A trio of Dot, Paula, and Cynthia forms. SLEEPOVERS etc. John settles down because Paula isn't actively dating anyone here, she has her galpals and they are extremely epic friends.

Something happens that triggers Paula and John running off on their own. I'm imagining John stealing a college teacher's keys and they drive out to get some lunch somewhere. It's an unexpectedly good gesture from John Lennon who Paula usually dismisses as a cad.

I think at some point during this conversation John would admit that he knows Paula is a good guitar player -- its just that he can't really own up to it in public. A unique moment of vulnerability from him and she responds in kind. She tells him she thinks he's the best singer she's ever heard. For the first time things are not shitty between them. John probably ruins this by honking her breasts.

Paula graduates secondary and has to decide what the fuck to do now. It is 1960, they're going to go to Hamburg eventually but not yet. John has managed to establish something with Stu and I think Paula sent George John's way because he needed support that he refused to accept from her because she's female. She's been a loner for all her life, it's not a big wrench now.

George has had a front row seat to John's Paula obsession for years now and he's both intrigued and weirded out and wants to date Paula himself.

I'm imagining some scenario where John finally goes…why not try it. What's stopping him. So he finds her at an outdoor market and he actually tries to be smooth. He catches her eye on the other side of the road and nicks a wildflower bouquet. He trips comically and almost goes down but then appears three stalls later. Paula is laughing, yes yes she thinks it's funny. He waits at the end of the strip and gives her the bouquet and they spend some quiet time together. Nothing sexual, John is just ready to try something he's never attempted before: treating a woman like a person.

Paula reciprocates and buys him something to eat probably. He really is very handsome and very intelligent. She likes him better without the quiff and says so. He succeeds in making her laugh. His hair is so red and he's still the beautiful boy she saw on the bus.

They're watching the sun set over the Mersey when she says "I was accepted to [university.] I'm leaving at the end of the week. I'm studying music."

John goes quiet but doesn't really react except to congratulate her. He knows she will do well.

He goes home and it goes poorly.

Cyn and Dot throw a big good bye party for Paula to celebrate her leaving home. Their pearl is escaping into the big wide world. Paula is deeply unhappy. Something is missing. She gets very very drunk. George shows up and tells her that John and Stu have secured a gig in Hamburg. They'll be leaving at the end of the week too. For some reason John was really, really intent on leaving all of a sudden. Paula definitely locks herself in her childhood bathroom and cries her eyes out.

John notably does not put in an appearance at the party even though Stu and his hot friend Pete Shotton definitely do along with George. Everyone knows that John and Paula have a thing so where the hell is he? Even if they don't like each other they've still been a big part of each other's lives -- John has an arrest record because he punched out the guy who spiked Paula's drink a few months ago and she screamed bloody murder in the police station until they let him go. What gives?

John still does not put in an appearance. Someone sees a creeper by the front door but he slides away before anyone can see him.

Around 4am Paula finally drags herself upstairs upset and wasted and not sure why she's unhappy. She hears the rocks clatter against her window and by the time she pokes her head out John is risking death by climbing up the drainpipe. She almost screams but helps him inside instead.

John is a MESSY PERSON and he promptly goes to pieces in her arms. What am I supposed to do without you, he sobs. Aren't you going to miss me? Aren't you going to think about me? Don't I matter to you at all?

They have another small argument but its not very serious and its clearly flirting at this point. They're both pretty bombed so they just end up stripping and holding each other.

Jim finds them the next morning. It goes poorly.

Paula decides she's going to Hamburg with John. He told her they need a fifth person and he gave her the eyes. She knows what he wants and she knows what she wants and she isn't wasting money on some stupid school. She doesn't want to be a music teacher anyway.

Jim informs her she is not going to Germany in the company of four randy boys much less with the town ne'er do well John Lennon. Paula bides her time and packs a bag and her guitar. She escapes out the window the morning that they're set to leave for Hamburg and shows up at the last second. John hugs her tightly and doesn't let go for several hours. She just blew her uni placement to be with him.

Hamburg happens. It goes poorly but also very well. John suddenly gets a lot more sensitive to their accommodations. If it was all blokes he wouldn't care but now that they're out of the cradle of Liverpool he's suddenly sharply aware of how many people are watching them, and watching Paula, and how vulnerable she actually is. Paula adjusts to the German catcalls and otherwise refuses to appear ruffled. Honestly don't know how to render this particular section except that John would get an early education on how a woman and a bandmate can be treated. This isn't Cynthia being pawed at by a German sailor, this is his bandmate Paula having to dance away from blokes trying to climb up the stage to get to her. "Alarmed" doesn't quite cover it.

For Paula its an education. She's never performed live in front of an audience before; this version of Paul never performed with the QM. Gelling with the band out of no where is a hell of a challenge but Hamburg still makes them. She surprises John by engaging in the loogie races and by being intrigued by the sex workers around town. I think that she and John still wouldn't be having sex at this point because John is still absorbing all the new experiences and it's easier to keep her on a shelf where he can admire her tits without actually trying to fuck her. In John's mind he's keeping the upper hand by not ruining Paula by having sex with her. In his mind he's protecting her from something; he doesn't feel worthy of her and if they get physical he's scared of making her "dirty."

Paula still has ways of unsettling him though. Imagining John's face if she shows him the underbust corset she bought without a shirt to go under it. He's only seen her nipples in the dark before so seeing her dressed up like one of the street girls makes him pretty feral and that's on top of the prellies.

Paula only performs dressed this way once which results in some mass chaos at whatever club they're performing at that night, kek.

Honestly Hamburg is still intensely deranged and Lennon and McCartney's fixations one each other becomes even more pronounced once they start writing songs together. I can't imagine how their music would change once they have access to Paula's vocal range. Probably something more Nightwish-esque as I think Paula being a woman would make John more tolerant or intrigued with operatic styles just because he wants to hear her belt it.

George still gets deported for being underage but I think John and Paula end up staying in Hamburg together because Paula doesn't light a condom on fire this time. She's too busy putting it on John. I like to think they spent Christmas in Germany performing and boning.

They finally make it home after New Year's. Paula is half dead and John is barely a person because he's full up on amphetamines and sex. Mimi won't let John into the house because he had the nerve to take off with a scarlet woman to Germany without asking permission which means…

Jim does not officially let John into the house so Paula sneaks him in through her window. The band recuperates through out January and John gets used to sleeping next to his lady. It's a quiet hibernation period that they think back on fondly later.

At this point Paula is somewhat disgraced for running off with John Lennon and once again John gets to see this up close and personal which is discomfiting for him since its his actions that are visiting these consequences back on Paula's head. He didn't quite understand how intense the judgment was before he saw it aimed her way. It forces him to grow up a little.

But he still takes her to Paris. Common expectation is that they're running away to get married. Neither of them want to get married yet but they're also doing the Lennon-McCartney dance with each other where they become screamingly jealous of anyone who looks at their partner.

Things progress to 1963. They meet Brian, shit happens idk. Beatlesmania kicks off. I have this idea that maybe Paula crossdresses as a man. She is beautiful but she still has a strong jaw and her breasts are small enough to bind without much effort. She is also still the tallest member of the Beatles and she easily has a full inch over John in height (which regularly leads to the best erections of John's entire life.) Being an Amazon has its advantages and this one means she can present herself as a man to secure a unified front with the other Beatles.

I am unable to render how Beatlemania would change if Paula was the single girl in the Fab Four but I can imagine how it would change their look -- 3 beautiful matching boys and the sole female. Lots of color play in my mind going on and of course there's the quiet understanding that Lennon and McCartney belong to each other.

Paula "accidentally" gets exposed as a woman when John loosens her undergarments as a prank and her breasts pop out during a performance. (I don't think anyone would see her nipples, it just be immediate cleavage and a button pops off her jacket.) I am unable to render how this would go, I can't imagine anything except a huge uproar that would send the Beatles into the stratosphere. This would become a moment that gets debated for decades, whether it was a prank from John or if John and Paula came up with it together.

Paula has incentive to do something like this: Brian won't let John and Paula get married because it would disrupt the Beatles image.

1965 - the big one, I think. Paula can be a woman in public now which results in the photoshoot that breaks the world. Referred to only as "the Beatles wedding." It's just too good to pass up.

Paula gets to model a few hundred different wedding gowns (most of these are separate from the boys just because there's so many and she looks good in everything) with various accoutrements anc accessories. There is a portion where the boys will be dressed up as grooms and they'll be getting special sessions with her each.

John is a complete and utter bastard leading up to and throughout the days of this shoot and its commonly conjectured in Beatles fandom circles for decades afterwards that he was seething with jealousy and humiliation -- he should have married her years ago so that this kind of spectacle couldn't come to pass, and he knows it, but he can't change it now and he's furious that she's dressing up as a bride when she's not even really his. And on top of it George and Ringo are getting to see her before he does and they won't tell him what she looks like.

"I hate you and I will never forgive you for as long as I live," is what George tells John when he asks how it went, what she wore, what it was like. John is hurt and confused.

"You're a lucky man John Lennon. Don't squander it," is what Ritchie tells John when he asks about it. "Make sure to brush your teeth and whatnot though."

John is nervous as hell even though its just some stupid photo shoot and they've done thousands of those already. Brian won't let him drink to calm down so John now has to face Paula in her wedding gown while completely sober.

There's a modern trend of "photos of grooms seeing their brides in their dresses for the first time" and I think all 3 of the boys would get these with Paula. It might even be enough to power several magazines, idk. Collectors items and whatnot. The McHarrison issue, the McStarr issue, the McLennon issue…

Photogs definitely capture the moments leading up to the reveal and then the seeing, the shock, the surprise, the awe. George started laughing and flung himself at her and danced her around, Ritchie did that presses-his-fist-to-his-face thing men do sometimes when they're overcome, yes, Paula is an absolute joy. She made sure to insist on having all different dresses per day because she didn't want repeats. Her boys deserve something brand new every time.

John though. Oh, John. Very nervous, trying not to be, clearly hating the camera, he doesn't turn when he's supposed to and he only reacts when she touches his shoulder and calls his name. Honestly I can see them leaning into a beauty and the beast angle with these two.

If there was any doubt before there isn't now. It's love. Everything else fades away and it's just John and Paula being themselves, except they were always in love, weren't they.

The world promptly goes completely insane upon the release of the Beatles wedding photographs. They got what they asked for and then some. Honestly John and Paula probably have one iconic photo spread of just the two of them that day and in that timeline, that portrait blots out pretty much anything else of cultural significance from 1965-1968. The world turns on but the wedding portraits from that day is what ends up being the most iconic part of Beatlemania.

after that IDK, I'm not really capable of thinking past that. I just like the idea of the wedding photoshoot and how John and Paula came from those humble beginnings. I think they'd definitely have children together but I don't know if they could manage a stable family unit or if they'd be able to save the band from the break up. But there wouldn't be any faffing around about "the Lennon and McCartney rivalry" or "they always hated each other." The wedding shoot was too real.

Notably, John and Paula did attend the premier of A Hard Day's Night with Paula in a white dress and John in a black tux. Symbolism.

I think by the time the Get Back sessions happen John and Paula have an almost three year old and Paula is heavily pregnant with their second or third child. Instead of the deadline being Ringo's acting job they're trying to get one last project in because the second baby is due in February.

I think with Paula's height (she would still be taller than John after all and this time she's wearing high heels to make the point) and her androgyny they would also get some mileage out of early boundary pushing by dressing her up in the boys clothes, so the Shea uniforms would definitely make an appearance unchanged except Paula's tits are out to here and John spends a lot of the stadium concert unbuttoning her jacket every time she buttons it back up.

Just occurred to me that Help! would be a much more straight Dr. No parody especially with Paula as the built in Bond girl. AHDN would be more similar as a documentary with surreal comedy elements but Help! would definitely be more ridiculous and Johnny gets his girl in the end haha

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

These are all my notes from last year. Thought you guys would appreciate. As I was writing this out last year, I remember being caught between two impulses: the "John and Paul would be a pregnant teenagers couple" idea (which I see many other based users have agreed with!) and then the "Beatlemania but if Paul was a woman" idea. In the end I went with the Beatlemania Paula because that's more interesting as a story especially with Paula having to exploit her androgyny for success. That being said I think Paula would absolutely be the Domme to John's sub, there's no way a Beatlemania Paula doesn't have John's balls in a cage and John liked being controlled by a strong woman. He's not allowed to finish until she tells him that he can.

I remember thinking that they would have their first child in 1965, with the idea being that Paula is pregnant during the Beatles Wedding Photoshoot, which would take place sometime in the winter so that the fashion designers could sell their wares with Paula advertising them. IMO Paula would make John wear condoms for years but once Ed Sullivan happens John makes a disturbingly sincere plea to trash them and Paula assents. Two months later she's pregnant after John's been climaxing inside her multiple times a day <3 But honestly, she's rewarding him for being so fucking brave all the time, he's unironically earned it.

I also think that a female Paula is still has full on baby rabies and by late 1964 she's desperate to get pregnant by John so they can finally start their family. There's an element of rebellion too because she'd be furious with Brian for not letting her and John get married and retaliates by having out of wedlock children.

[formula-fun]

Pacific rim au snippet?? for us to live a little happier in coming days ksjadjshs? 👀

i am pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead

The day Sebastian Vettel descends on the Faenza Academy, four things happen.

First, a series of rumors fly across the entirety of base. Charles is ninety percent sure they’re George’s doing, but the way they telephone between the cadets is truly a modern marvel. In the morning the word is that Vettel is visiting to scope out the cadets to select his new copilot, never mind that none of them have ever even drifted in their lives. By noon the story has been transformed into a harrowing tale involving Vettel, a recent Kaiju attack in Cabo, and a torrid affair with Director Binotto’s wife.

“Did you hear about Binotto’s wife?” George asks during lunch, eyes wide.

“That was your rumor, idiot,” Alex tells him. “Obviously it’s not true. Binotto doesn’t even have a wife.”

By that afternoon, it’s rumored that Binotto lost his wife in a Kaiju attack in Cabo, where she bravely fought in a top-secret test jaeger as Vettel’s copilot.

The second thing that happens is training is suspended for a full day. Truthfully, Charles thinks this should be the real source of rumors, but they’re all so burned out none of the cadets want to question having a day off. It doesn’t mean they actually take the day off—they’re too bored for that, and they’ve forgotten how to do anything else than train relentlessly and occasionally study the odd K-Science journal.

Still, the Director, his assistants, half the training staff and Vettel all spend the morning locked in a conference room doing god knows what.

“They ordered pizza about an hour ago,” Alex tells him. He’s been pretending to read Jaeger Daily for two hours, sprawled out on a towel stolen from the bathroom while he pretends not to watch the Operations building from behind his sunglasses. “I heard you can predict a war based on how often the militaries order pizza. It means they’re planning something.”

“This is Italy,” Pierre says, unbothered, stripped shirtless and sprawled out in the sun a few paces away. “They order pizza literally every day.”

Alex hums. “And they got affogatos.”

“Affogatos?! Mon Dieu. Call the press.”

It probably means nothing, but it’s certainly strange—the conference, not the pizza. Vettel is a well-known face not just in the Jaeger program, but in the world. He was confirmed into the program just a handful of months earlier after having matched with some kid in Australia, and once their Jaeger goes into service he’ll be the first European ranger ever. It’s not a great statistic, seeing as there have only been six rangers in active combat in the history of the planet, but it’s still something.

The Faenza school is small, and often forgotten; most of the European academies are the same way. That’s why it’s even stranger that Vettel is here, of all places.

The third thing that happens that day is Charles kicks Max’s ass in the Kwoon. It’s not related to Vettel in any way, but it’s still funny.

Charles’ first impression of Max when they met eight months ago was that he’s too serious. His eyes are shaped like half-moons, clearly designed for laughing, but he frowns all the time. His lower lip juts out a little, petulant. Charles’ dad used to scold Charles for pouting like that when he was little, warning him his face would get stuck like that, and if Charles was too old for it at seven then Max is much too old for it at sixteen. It’s possible that his face is stuck like that, in fact, since the months that Charles has known him he hasn’t relaxed once. 

He doesn’t relax while training. He doesn’t relax in the rec room. He doesn’t relax while eating—if anything he’s the least relaxed doing that, shoveling food into his mouth like he’s about to be called to attention at any second. His frown lingers as they run laps of the dusty base in Faenza, the sun beating down hot and unrelenting, and while he’s training on the sim: thirteen drops and eleven kills, a record that’s second best only to Charles’ own.

“Beginner’s luck, huh?” Max had said when Charles had stepped out of the sim for the first time, exactly one kill to his name. He doesn’t say that the second time, or the third, or the fourth.

Like Charles said. No sense of humor.

Max is good at Muay Thai, which pisses Charles off to no end. It’s not that Charles is bad at it, he’s just been a little shorter than Max and a lot more wiry for the entire time they’ve known each other. Max is gangly too, but his legs are stronger, a fact that Charles has learned on more than one occasion by catching a knee straight to the solar plexus—a blow which Max barely has to strain to deliver. They’ve sparred—fought, really—enough times now for Charles to know that no matter how quick he can be, Max still has a serious physical advantage.

“Teach me Judo,” he told his trainer the fifth time Max pressed him out of the ring during a training session—a fight—with a heavy offense and pointy elbows, the director’s assistant watching from the corner and taking notes on a clipboard.

“We don’t usually teach that,” Andrea told him. “You’ll never beat a kaiju by throwing it.”

“I want to beat him.” At Andrea’s hesitation he added, “I’ll train extra. I don’t care.”

So Andrea started teaching him Judo; and on the day that Vettel arrives at the academy Charles steps into the ring with Max, letting him get two swings in before grabbing his wrist, using his momentum against him and flipping him square over his shoulder.

Max hits the mat hard enough that the sound echoes through the empty kwoon.

“Judo isn’t on the training list,” Max gripes, pushing himself up and rolling over to clutch at his nose. “Fuck.”

“I’m just adapting to the style of my opponent,” Charles says flatly. “As any good ranger would do.”

“I hate you,” Max tells him, dabbing at his nose—entirely for dramatic effect, since there isn’t a drop of blood in sight and Charles is pretty sure he didn’t even hit him there—and then spins on the mat to kick Charles’ feet out from under him.

Charles goes toppling, landing with a grunt, which is the moment Max decides to try to wrestle him. A horrible decision, really. Max is shit at wrestling. It takes all of thirty seconds for Charles to pin him, catching his left arm in an ude-garami, which is the exact moment that the door swings open.

“Ah,” Director Binotto says. “Leclerc and Verstappen, some of the brightest in our youth program.”

“Let me up,” Max hisses through his teeth, his breath hot against his ear, but Charles just tightens his grip.

“You haven’t tapped out,” Charles replies, holding Max down with his own chest as he twists Max’s elbow. Max lets out a string of noises that sound very Dutch and very rude.

“They do look it,” someone says blandly, and when he looks up Charles is greeted by the sight of Sebastian Vettel standing over him.

He springs to his feet, snapping to attention. Max follows suit, albeit a little slower.

“Relax,” Vettel says. “We don’t stand on rank in the kwoon. I thought that was the first rule of training,” he adds, raising his voice a little.

Binotto shrugs. “We do things differently here.”

Vettel’s eyebrows flash up, then back down again. He ignores the director, giving them both an easy smile, and Charles and Max’s hands fall away at the same time. “I’ve never visited any of the youth programs, but I’ve heard great things,” he says. “How long have you been training?”

“Eight months, sir,” Charles says.

“Please, it’s Sebastian. You’ve been here since the opening of the academy, then,” Sebastian says, his mouth forming into a C shape. “And you’ve been training to be copilots?”

Charles looks at Max, who’s already looking back. His mouth is pouty again, his eyebrows furrowed. Too serious.

“Our cadets did not begin the matching process until last week,” Binotto says, stepping forward to take his place at Sebastian’s side. “We have been training them as a group in the hopes that compatibility would be demonstrated organically, and for the most part that has proved to be successful.”

“How so?”

Binotto lets out a little hum. “Some pairs we brought in together proved to be compatible—siblings, best friends. Other times this proved to be the opposite. And then of course, some compatible pairs just find each other. We had our suspicions, but neural aptitude tests only confirmed it.”

Charles frowns, a protest poised behind his teeth.

“And you two train on the sim together?” Sebastian asks them, his face open.

“No,” Max says. “We only train solo.”

“What are your scores?”

“Thirteen drops, eleven kills.”

“Thirteen, twelve,” Charles adds, and can’t bite down the smug smile when Max shoots a glare his way.

Sebastian raises his eyebrows, blowing out a breath. He looks to Binotto, who raises his eyebrows with a small smile.

“That’s impressive,” Sebastian says. “You both want to be rangers one day?”

“Yes, sir,” they say, and it unfortunately comes out in perfect unison.

Sebastian looks at them for a long beat, a serene smile on his face. “I’m not here at an official capacity. I’m just here to scope out the copilot matches in our youth program. You probably already had some idea that you’re drift compatible,” he says, which Charles was not aware of at all, and then while he’s still reeling from that piece of information, “but the tests last week identified you at somewhere between ninety nine point seven and ninety nine point nine percent.”

“That’s not right,” Max blurts out. “We’re not compatible.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows raise. “Neural tests prove otherwise. So do fighting styles and sim scores, from the looks of it.”

“But we don’t get along.”

“That doesn’t always mean something.” He tilts his head. “If this comes as a surprise, it might be helpful to know that compatibility is about balance as much as it’s about similarities. You might see differences in each other, but in a Jaeger those things will become complementary parts.”

Charles can’t hold back a tiny scoff. What’s supposed to be complementary about Max? His bullheadedness? His ability to eat food faster than the mess hall can produce it?

“Gentlemen,” Binotto says, which is another first—Binotto has never called them that in their lives. “The Jaeger Program needs cadets. Not just rangers, but mechanics, strategists, engineers, support coordinators, biologists, neuroscientists—we need personnel, and now that the academy is on its feet and more jaegers are going into service, it’s time to identify who is part of a viable drift pairing, and who would be better suited to a different division.”

At his side, Max sucks in a short breath, barely audible. Charles himself straightens. He knows a threat when he hears one.

“We’d like to start a project to test drift compatibility through a rudimentary neural handshake,” Binotto says, “and we’re going to be testing that project on you.”

And that’s how the fourth thing happens.

[raewritesf1]

rip gax genderbent au lmao because sadly i just type away and don't save any of the stuff i write. but its all good i can def retype since the gax brainrot is permanent ahem. im just happy i can write away gax stuff in your inbox mwah tysm.

so mixing up gax genderbent with the highschool au. think of uptight "good girl" georgie who is the head of student council but will absolutely get into a verbal smack down with a teacher if she gets below an A on a paper for which she knows she deserves more for. georgie whose skirts are always perfectly knee length but definitely likes showing off those long golden legs during track and field practice. georgie who always wants and tries to make her parents proud (brocedes ofc sorry pt 2) but goes out of her way to terrorise an embarrass her younger brother lando especially in front of his new shy but adorable australian gf. little miss perfect who always toes at the line of rebellion and mischief without ever truly crossing it. that is until she chooses to completely erase it when she began dating her "sworn enemy" and resident bad boy max fucking verstappen. no one had seen that one coming. - xoxo angst anon

(max who is a secret nerd on honour roll and follows a strict curfew, he just likes leather jackets and street racing okay, leave him alone he's just a baby)

And you are forever free to write whatever gax brainrot comes to mind in my asks cause I love reading it. thnx u for perfectly retyping this mwah 😚

But George and Lando would be the most amazing sibling pairing. They would just be insults and arguing 24/7 and would very much make it all of their friends problems. God and with brocedes as parents. Worlds most chaotic family. Lando would definetlget paired up with Oscar for some class project and fall so hard so quickly not realizing that Georgie mentors her for like student council or something

God Georgie being that overachiever in school who’s just doing everything somehow. Student council president, top of her classes, tutors other kids. She’s always problem dressed. They would go to the most lax private academy and she would still show up to dressed like there was an official uniform with her skirt past her knees and her hair always slicked back in her neat high ponytail.

Versus bad boy Max with his leather jackets and expensive car. Who always getting in trouble with teachers for his rather blunt attitude and seems like he constantly late and never paying attention yet he’s still getting similar (and sometimes better) grades than Georgie and is in all honors classes.

Just fully back to the trashy romance book I read when I was younger 😩 He’s her little brother best friend and they argue constantly. And he just sees through her little miss perfect act so easily (Max is most definitely dragging a tipsy George off a countertop during a party i don’t make the rules)

[pigeonwit]

it gave me boarding school au and royalty- so idk what you'll do with that but have fun!!!!!

(aint that the plot of red white and royal blue. i've never read it but i swear to GOD that's the plot. i apologize in advance if i have stolen from red white and royal blue by mistake)

It’s not that David doesn’t like Jack. Which – to be fair – he doesn’t. Jack’s entire existence goes against David’s core beliefs, but it’s hardly the time to get pissy about that now, not when he’s at Pulitzer Academy when he could’ve easily just gone to Duane. Hell, he probably could’ve still done well for himself at that military school on Lake George. But David is nothing if not a hypocrite, and as much as he hates this breeding ground of wealth and privilege, even he’s not proud enough to turn down a full ride at Pulitzer.

But besides Jack’s birth and upbringing and lifestyle – you know, petty little things like that – he’s really not so bad. He’s friendly enough – something David hated him for at first, because how dare this future monarch be kind – and as much as his carelessness drives David crazy, he can’t help but be a tiny bit understanding. If David had been given PR managers straight out of the womb, he’d go a little stir-crazy as well.

(Damn you, hyper-empathy. Damn you for making David sympathise with a billionaire.)

The thing that makes David refuse to be Jack’s friend, however, is that he has to be. He has to take care of him, has to follow him around and make sure he doesn’t incite a national incident, or else he’s out. Dean Snyder doesn’t have to say it outright, David already knows – take care of the little prince, make sure he behaves, or David’s out. It’s not fair. It’s not fair that this kid born with a silver spoon up his ass gets to make or break David’s life so easily – and to make it all worse, David doesn’t even think Jack knows that. As far as Jack’s aware, David’s just his roommate. His specially assigned school roommate, because that’s normal. Fuck, maybe to Jack that is normal. Jack’s never been to a normal school before – Pulitzer Academy, in all its prestigiousness, might actually be less than what Jack’s used to. Jack has no idea of the strain he’s putting on David’s school life, his prospects, his future, and David wants so badly to hate him for it, to scream at him and tell him everything he’s doing to ruin David’s life, but – fuck it all, he can’t. Not when Jack looks at him with those eyes of his. So hopeful and eager to just run wild.

David’s never been allowed to run wild in his life.

(God damn it – he’s sympathising with the billionaire.)

[linavloger]

Just for you to know...

I'm currently making plans of more CU AUs and you better be holding on, because most of them are even more messed up than @n4talia-chaparro's "The Bizzare Gruesome Disaster Of The Gory Principal" AU...

Pink and cursive font=Cute Red and bold font=MESSED UP AF Purple, cursive and bold font=Both

Ok...here's my AUs list

New Intentions

The Mortifying Incident Of The Mushroom Infection

Capitán Calzones (Mexican AU)

Next Generation (Starring Nik Beard and Kei Hutchins)

Tied Up Obsession

Happy Tree Underpanty Comics

Underpanty Fairytales

Rest In Blood

Genderbent

Savage Students

Now...lemme make a sypnosis for each of these babies

TW: Blood and insanity mentions

New Intentions: Olive Frascherson learns the life of a teenager at Goldeneye Academy making new friends in the way. Being some of them George Beard and Harold Hutchins. Then, she meets again with her twin sister, Isabella Frascherson and her childhood friend, Daniel Layvers, who is now the vice president at the student council. Just when everything goes right, she soon meets Mr. Krupp, the new principal and a kid named "Candy", president at the student council. She, along with her new friends live different adventures to defeat monsters who seek for destruction and villains who seek for domination. Will they make it with Captain Underpants's help? The Mortifying Incident Of The Mushroom Infection: When everything seemed fine in Piqua, some strange sort of mushroom starts infecting Jerome Horwitz to finally infecting the whole city, turning everyone into some sort of mushroom zombies! Lucky for George, he has Harold and company by his side and will protect each other from the infected Mexican AU: It's almost like Captain Underpants but what if instead of being in Piqua was it in Guadalajara? What if instead of Jerome Horwitz, it was Primaria Itzani? and What if instead of having a few villains, they would fight all of Mexico's current problems in society? Next Gen: George and Harold after marrying Lisa and Billy and had their children respectively. Just like 6 years after the 12th books events, specifically with Nik Beard and his new best friend, Kei Hutchins revive Captain Underpants making a new invention and bringing him to life so that he watches over the city, visits them to their new treehouse and save the school (If they're unlucky, the whole city or planet) from evil Tied Up Obsession: Harold Hutchins, after being saved from a group of bullies by Erica Wang become best friends, until after 2 years of knowing each other, Erica leaves Jerome Horwitz temporaly, which leads Harold to meeting George Beard, but at second 0 that he met George, a series of murders have been going on! Will Harold solve this case with the few friends he has? Happy Tree Underpanty Comics: When nothing interesting happened, Jerome Horwitz received an invitation to unknown lands, which Mr. Krupp couldn't say no to, due to the fact that it was obligatory. Resulting in George, Harold, Mr. Krupp and the rest of the school be in Happy Tree Land and meeting new students from there and somehow being in wholesome, crazy, dangerous and bloody situations that can't come in handy easily. Underpanty Fairytales: When it's about alternate situations, We have George III, prince of Piqlands, and a common forest boy named Harold, who live incredibly fantasious adventures with their principal Benjamin, mostly known as Underpanty knight. Rest In Blood: When 20 kids received an invitation to a supposed game contest to receive a free toy, however, they soon realize that it was a terrible trick that leads them to participate in a bloody game where they all have to kill each other, a bloody game named "R.I.B." which stands for...Rest In Blood Genderbent: Meet Gwen Beard and Harriet Hutchins! Gwen is George's genderbend self and Harriet is Harold's. Remember that now, because in this AU, it's most likely in the books, but the genders are all bent! Savage Students: A normal day at Jerome Horwitz becomes a whole nightmare when George and Harold, after being forbidden to draw and write their comics and having their treehouse to the ground start becoming ferally insane, now acting like a couple of animals seeking for their main prey: Mr. Krupp, since he was the one who planned it all. Now the rest of the school has to survive and not fall to those 2's claws

And that's it :D I hope you ejoyed this silly little AUs plans

[russilton]

on my knees again begging for rb!george crumbs. any angsty headcanons on what george does on sleepless nights? or what directly happens in the hours after he gets announced into merc? any george hc's would do bc i love this au sm 🤲🤲 - @ruszhou

Ame I will always give you RB au crumbs bc you know how to ask the best.

George and sleepless nights are a common occurrence, even before Redbull stop effectively letting him sleep.

RB au spoilers below the cut

RB AU MASTER POST

Tw for mentions of unhealthy relationships with sleep, drinking and food, as well as the abusive and isolating environment George endures at RB

It starts the way a lot of us get insomnia: chronic workaholism

George has always been a bit of a workaholic, even before he got into professional single seater racing, in his karting days he spent every minute his parents would let him at the track, and would stay up late doing homework for school, knowing if he didn’t, the karts would be the first thing to go. It continues that way, even though George never goes to university, there’s plenty of studying to do around his tracks, and George pretty much walks out of school and into his professional formula career (this is true for real life George, he walks out of a prestigious grammar school at 18 and comes p2 in an F3 championship… insane twink, this man is)

Gushing aside (we’re heading into AU territory here, so I’m talking fully out of my ass rather than using fact), George signs for Redbull at 19, and while his sleep improves for a while, at least when he’s in a bed. He’s travelling near constantly between Milton Keynes and race tracks, testing for Redbull, attending meetings with Helmut and the drivers Academy, and then when he’s signed to Torro Rosso he can add flying to Italy to that burden. He has to learn to adjust to timezone switches or he’ll pass out in the car, but he dislikes sleeping while flying, and tends to read instead, something Alex and Pierre love to tease him for. He favours autobiographies of other drivers and other sports people, along with books about engineering and car design. He doesn’t understand all of it, but he hopes he can learn enough to at least not sounds like a dumb kid. (yes he has Lewis’ book, but that one tends not to travel with him, stays safe at home where the signature across the inner cover can’t get smudged. George has an ebook version for travel.

In 2020 his sleep deteriorates rapidly. He can’t share rooms with Alex or Pierre anymore, who would throw pillows or discarded socks at him for keeping them up with his book light, they’re all separated to prevent Covid spread. And they’re spread out by more than just regulation; Pierre turning always from them both scornfully for how they take advantage of his mistakes, and George doing the exact same thing to Alex. This means there’s nobody to stop him staying up late into the night studying the tracks he’ll be racing, till he can practically draw them blindfolded. His keen track knowledge is vital if he wants to show up Alex, he gets less time to track walk than he did before covid too. It means George often cruises through races without any damage he caused, can take the more dangerous lines that others can’t because he knows the limits of his car. He turns that funky little AT into a monster by taking bigger risks, he only crashes out once that year on his own, and he’s patted on the back for the delay it causes.

When he becomes Max’s teammate, he sleeps better for a while. Max tries to get him to go out to parties with him, and George only goes a couple times before he starts shaking it off. Then he starts sleeping with Lewis, and well, there’s nothing like coming so hard your legs quiver to help a guy sleep. To his credit he doesn’t normally stick around after they fuck, George prefers to pull his pants up and head back to his own space. And he and Lewis aren’t exactly cuddly, so Lewis is happy to see him out with a slap on the ass and a teasing comment. They can’t risk getting caught either, with motorhomes and hotels that’s too easy. The only time Lewis may let George stay is monaco, even if it’s just a couple hours. He just fucked the guy against his window, he can offer him dinner at least since George has no idea where to go in monaco (this is Lewis’ first hint that George may not be quite the same as other rookie drivers, who are no doubt out drowning in vodka and club beats at that moment) they talk, it’s not exactly a heart to heart, but Lewis learns a little about the boy behind the bastard.

And George’s weekends work well like that, he goes into each Friday working hard, his usual routine of training and studying the tracks as he grins and snips his way through interviews, then he races hard and Lewis puts him away wet on Sunday, before he flies back to England to start the process anew. At least until Hungary, when George tips his career upside down.

After his stunt, Redbull drag him back to MK and made him do days on days of sim work. Max of course isn’t there, he’s on his summer break, but RB have different plans for George. Just because the team is meant to be in utter black out shutdown to follow the rules, doesn’t mean they actually do that. It’s redbull. They shout at him for every race sim that isn’t perfect, every team order he ignores, George starts staying up late to try and perfect his times so they just give him a break. His fingers crack and blister from how long he’s sat in front of screens, and they tell him his workout routine isn’t enough, and he has to push harder in the gym, his diet is heavily restricted and George can’t go a day without his physio poking and prodding his weight and routine.

When he shows up at SPA looking like he hasn’t slept, it’s because he hasn’t had much time to, the only time he’s left alone is to sleep and he subconsciously stops himself from sleeping as much because he’s avoiding another day of hell. If his only personal time is at night, that’s when he stays awake, even if it just makes him feel worse in the morning. When the races restart with that routine comes testing new car parts, playing Max’s Guinea pig with components that haven’t been simulated long enough, Georges drives get harder and more painful, but he pushes through because he has to. He aches to go back to lewis’ bed where he felt safe, where Lewis took control and told him what to do but it felt good. He has nobody to talk to in the paddock anymore. He can’t call his family, he knows what they’ll say and he’s not ready to hear it. He has no friends, he especially can’t talk to Lewis, he spends more than a few nights awake scrolling Instagram and Twitter to see what Lewis, or indeed any of them are doing, to feel any small level of engagement.

After Monza, he has occasional nightmares filled with Redbull staff laughing as Max parks his car on Lewis’ head. On those nights he wants to call Lewis, just to hear his voice, but he doesn’t, he just lies awake and calls himself pathetic.

When he podiums at the Turkish GP after Russia, he drinks the entire bottle of champagne that evening just to sleep a little faster.

Even after Merc approaches him to sign, and he then does, his sleep doesn’t improve. Now his worries are Red Bull finding out, a copy of his contract hid in a safe at his home out of sheer paranoia. His texts with Lewis, however short and unemotional, hidden behind passworded screens. He knows it’s ridiculous but he can’t stop himself laying awake at night going over how to keep this secret just a little longer, wondering if he made the right choice. What if Lewis was lying to him too, and he should have been grateful for the AT seat helmut might offer him.

He doesn’t sleep, fully and deeply, till after Abu Dahbi. When it’s over, he doesn’t have to get up and face Redbull and Max in the morning, all sulking over their “undeserved loss”. He goes to sleep in the same bed as lewis; their hands brushing as George passes out full of food his physio would hate and tipsy on champagne, relief and Lewis. He wakes up 10 hours later tucked into Lewis’ chest, a strong arm over his back, warm and safe.

His sleep isn’t fixed immediately, he still has nights where he’s up late worrying that the next call he gets will be Toto telling him they’ve actually dropped him, but Lewis texts him photos of Roscoe now he’s brought the dog back to England, and he invites George round the night before the announcement, so they can get take out and bicker over football results, because Lewis knows George is freaking out and needs a distraction, as well as someone to prep with. George sleeps over that night too, unsurprisingly dozing like the dead with Lewis' broad arm wrapped around his waist.

fun fact, I actually worried that the way George signs to merc (secretly and months ahead of any announcement) would be unrealistic and far too drawn out, but little Oscar P really went and proved me wrong didn't he. (No hate to Oscar, guy deserved better, but Mark Webber can go fuck himself)

Following the announcement, Mercedes’ know the fall out will be massive, and so they plan for George and Lewis to be at the factory for the entire day, intent on distracting George from staring at his phone and torturing himself looking at news articles. They basically use it as an excuse for a toned down office Christmas party, Bottas helps introduce George to his engineers, Lewis shows him to the strategy and mechanical team, taking George on a tour of Brackley and telling him stories of fuckery he and valtteri had either endured or created in each and every room. Showing George their trophies just so he can tease Lewis for trying to impress him, and then pointing out all the places where Mercedes’ could have had one of George hadn’t stolen it himself. It’s a little… domestic? George leaves his phone with PR, happy to let them handle his calls, till Toto summons them both back to a meeting room so they can watch a replay of Christian’s face on itv as he realises Mercedes have stolen George from under him. George thinks he should be anxious that the team is laughing at him too, but the way their warm gazes check in with him and Lewis throughout the afternoon, he finally starts to relax and laugh with them. He returns home with Lewis that night, some corny joke about it being too cold to drive all the way back to London alone, Lewis welcoming him with an open arm so they can celebrate George’s freedom privately.

There’s so much work to be done, so many strings to thread or cut loose, but for now they can just enjoy each other’s company without worry.

[stranded-in-the-gobi-desert]

i'm v bored so here are some different ideas for my mdzs f1 au

option 1: drivers

nmj and lxc are both very talented f1 drivers, both lauded as future world champions. meng yao did some karting at a young age, but instead decided to become an f1 engineer/mechanic when it became too expensive

my and lxc meet when they're 16/17, when lxc is competing in formula reno and my is apprenticing at his team as an engineer for the summer (it's not the high profile best car team he was going to join until wrh blocked him by having wen chao join the team)

my and nmj meet properly when my gets appointed to be his race engineer (after nmj goes through 2 others quitting or being fired in the previous seasons)

nmj and lxc are long time friends, growing up in the karting circuits together (think piastri and sargeant, or verstappen and leclerc but they're actually friends)

lxc is the one who recommended my as a potential race engineer for nmj (my still getting the job on his own merit ofc)

option 2: part of the f1 circus

nmj is the safety car driver, jgy is the race director, lxc is a high profile f1 journalist/pundit (chris medland + will butxton fusion)

lxc woukd be so proud of his brother lwj destroying the junior formulas, and definitly be paying extra attention to the driver markets during the summer break

jgy and nmj would 100% bond over the useless stewarding in the races (i think the track limits fiasco at belgium 23 would give jgy an aneurism)

they'd share flights to lots of the races (and hotel rooms too)

option 3: they're ALL drivers

meng yao manages to get through karting and the lower formulas by joining a driver academy (very high pressure bc if he messes up once he could get kicked out and lose his seat),

he's a couple years behind nmj and lxc, who are both from famous racing families - nmj's dad is/was a famous rally car driver (carlos sainz esq), and lxc's dad and lqr were both f1 drivers (not champions but decent ones) and his mum used to kart bf marrying (max verstappen esq)

lxc and nmj both enter the sport in upper midfield teams, getting consistent points and a few podiums here and there in their rookie seasons, whilst when my joins he's stuck in a back marker who struggles to get out of Q1 normally (jgs promises him a place in his team if he can prove himself - almost impossible in the team he's in)

they're a well known driver friendship (once again like the 2019 rookies) and they do press videos together sometimes bc they're fan favourites

(side note: the 2019 rookies - george russell, alex albon, and lando norris - also have the height differences of 3zun, both russell and albon are 184cm+ and norris was around 170cm in 2019)

[goonlalagoon]

A Girl with a Badge || Leagues and Legends

I told myself I’d get this done and posted for Saint George’s day, and here we are! A second series rewrite AU for @ink-splotch​‘s fantastic Leagues and Legends books.

Spoilers for the whole trilogy below.

(Read on Ao3)

The second name on the door read ‘L. Jones, Mage’, and George raised a cautioiusly curious eyebrow. She knew an L. Jones who had sparks spilling from his fingers and his lips, but he was weeks of travel away and had a certain scoffing disrespect for the Academy. to be fair, so did she, but here she was. She knocked politely, and gently pushed the door open when there was no response.The room was empty - evidently her new roommate was out - but it was clear which half of the room was occupied. George didn't have much with her, so wound up lying on her well worn bedroll staring at the ceiling. She sort of felt like she should go to the Library, bury herself in books, but there was a kind of tightness in her chest she had to remind herself how to breathe through first.

She was still remembering to breathe when the door clicked open. George sat up and twisted, and her breath caught in her throat all over again.

"Hi. I'm Laney Jones," the tall, dark skinned girl smiled politely, precisely, "and you must be Georgiana - I met Rupert in the quad."

"Just Ana, please."

"Ana? Okay. Well, pleased to meet you, Ana Jones."

(Observation #1: her smile is something practised)

It was less than a week before George was absolutely sure that L. Jones, Mage, was the young Lanetia she had heard about from L. Jones, Vigilante. It was over a month before she told Laney she knew her brother, because that was how long it took for the letter to reach the mountains and a fat packet of replies to come back via Sez.

George liked Sez, despite (or perhaps because of) the scornful glances the woman threw at her Academy jacket the one time George wore it down into Rivertown (her mountain jacket had been in the wash, and she had made herself wear the Academy one because she was an Academy student, and if she was going to be ashamed of it she shouldn't have joined). She knew enough women who had their own kingdoms spilling around their feet and hands to recognise the way Sez was dancing at the metaphorical heart of Rivertown.

Four letters came back from the bakery. Three of them were for George - Liam's response and well wishes, Bea's careful updates and loving concern, Bidi's scrawled portraits. The last was for Laney, so George took her out to somewhere there were no prying Bureau ears to tell her about the Pied Piper.

She didn't tell her about the Dragon Slayer. Liam was the Pied Piper, and Laney was his sister; it was his call to decide what she should be told, what parts of him she could be trusted with. George wanted just to be A. Jones, Sage, for a while, until she remembered how to stand without her red haired shadow, until she went back to finish the business she hadn't begun. The Academy was her respite, her compromise, torn between the things in her life she hadn't finished and the things she had never gotten to start. Laney didn't have the right to that, not yet.

Sez came in through the fish shop door while Laney was re-reading her brother's letter, and spared an acknowledging nod for George. George nodded back and picked at the plate of chips before her, seemingly engrossed in her meal and waiting for her roommate to be done reading. But George had fixed walls while Suzie and Rosie made plans, had leaned against trees while every eye turned to Marian for guidance, had spent years sitting at the table in the bakery where Bea ran her resistance. George didn't have to look like she was paying attention to know this little shop was the heart of something, and that it was growing. She didn't have to look like she was paying attention to know it was going to be something good.

Because George had taken to spending her spare weekend hours curled up in a booth at Sally-Anne's, she noticed Rupert slipping in like clockwork. She didn't wave him over, or go over to say hi, for all of that first year and a bit, but she watched the easy familiarity with which he talked to Sally, some Rivertown fellow in a bowler hat who tended to drop by regularly as well, and Sez whenever she was around. Sometimes she caught herself watching and dragged her eyes back to her notes. She didn't have to keep a wary eye on everyone here. She was a student, a sage - she was supposed to have eyes only for her books.

But when she heard from an exhausted, adrenaline fuelled Laney early in their second year that there had been a hold-up during their study meeting, George heard her out and noted her page. She knocked gently on Rupert's door, hesitant, and wished she knew how to be kind about things. "Hi?" "Hi. Laney said the fish shop got attacked. Sally and Sez okay?" His eyebrows rose, then he nodded. George relaxed a little. "If they need help patching up, I've done my fair share of helping mend walls." He blinked, then sighed and said he'd ask for her. She nodded, and went back to her book.

George's study group had camped out in the hall, at one of the long benches they ate at every meal. There had been an argument between their mage and their hero over deadlines and organisation, and nothing else of note.

She found Leaf early in his first year, because she was trying so hard not to be a fighter but had a knife that came to hand quicker than thought when a boot scuffed the ground behind her. George had been defending herself and others so long that walking away wasn't an option. When she hauled Leaf out of the first confrontation she found him in, she nodded blithely through Heads' lecture and then dragged the kid off to the stables. He greeted the horses by name as she shoved hay into rough pallets to give him something soft to land in. George would always hate the way her first ingrained instinct was to violence, but she would always hate seeing children (innocents, the defenceless) hurt more. Leaf had a bright, burning determination that hit something deep in her chest, a Forest accent that was almost what she expected to hear from someone who believed that deeply in heroes, who trusted that freely.

Francis Uyeda tracked her down not long after, eyes steady and sharp, noting the way that his year mate was gaining regular bruises that didn't have bullies and scoldings attached. George eyed the combat spec warily, but he wasn't condescending and he wasn't threatening, so she let him stay. Leaf bounced up the stair and paused when he saw their new arrival. "Uh, hi there, Red. Come for some extracurricular training too?" Francis smiled, just a different kind of solemn scowl if you didn’t know how to look, and shrugged at George. She blinked back at him, assessing. "That works, I suppose."

It started with just the three of them, until George mentioned it to the guide in her study group - Heather had seemed taciturn right up until George had mentioned the cultural importance of potatoes, at which point she became a font of information and academic tangents. Heather showed up with the bubbly blonde sage George tended to sit next to in most classes (several of their instructors found alphabetical order easiest, possibly so they didn’t have to bother learning their names and so could focus on other, more interesting things). Gloria marched directly over to George and poked her fiercely in the shoulder, demanding mock indignantly to know why Ana tells Heather about her super special fight club after a few study sessions, but does she tell me? I see where your loyalties lie.

George rocked back on her heels, then settled her stance, hands loose in her pockets. “Well, Heather did spend all of yesterday afternoon telling me about spores. What can I say, Gloria, there’s just no competition.” Gloria paused, finger waving indignantly at nothing while she considered. “What kind of spores?”

When the squeaky Sage from Laney's study group went missing, George was one of the first to notice. She had exchanged few words with Grey after the first morning she had carried her books and papers over to the desk in the library he had already colonised and asked if she could claim the second half, but George was a creature of habits and patterns.

Grey went to a bookstore, she reminded herself as ice slipped down her spine, the pipsqueak will be happily distracted for hours.

But it got darker and darker, and Grey hadn't dropped by the library to crow over purchases or pick up the books he had left under George's watchful eye, so she set her pen aside and went to check if he was back. She met Laney outside his closed door, and cold settled in her stomach.

They hadn't had much to do with one another, but George was a woman of patterns. She had noted the way Grey's fingers twitched, the waving of his hands, the way he fell into speaking (or muttering corrections to himself) whenever magework and the Elsewhere came up in class. She had noticed with quiet suspicion the way that days when the mages had all been laid out in the throes of an Elsewhere storm, Grey would either skip the library or be quieter than usual, giving simple, snappish answers to questions instead of going off on long tangential rambles meant to distract and deflect.

"We should ask Sez," George muttered, already walking. "If she doesn't know where he is she'll know someone who will." Laney hurried to catch up, questions locked behind her teeth as she eyed her roommate. Laney had been slipping out of their room at odd times and back in with suspicious cuts and bruises and a light in her eyes that George recognised for weeks, now, but George hadn’t asked to join. She’d invited Laney along to their self-defence classes, but Laney had thought her roommate was interested only in helping kids not get bullied, so she hadn’t pushed. Laney didn’t like asking for things she wanted if she wasn’t absolutely sure she would get them, and that included friendship.

Rupert had gone to check the bookstores, so it was just George and Laney who slipped into a building they thought would be empty. George had her suspicions rolling in her gut, so when she blinked herself back into awareness and catalogued her surroundings, she wasn't surprised that Grey was pale and cold, a crack in the universe tucked into the vulnerable hollow of his neck.

She watched Laney carefully and made a casual, wry comment about how Laney's brave face clearly wasn't something to be trifled with, and watched as one of the most composed people she knew tried - ineffectively - to pretend she was feeling sick to her stomach. George picked the lock, wishing for her spear (something with reach) slightly less than for her shield, a dull roaring in her ears where Jack's flippant commentary would have been a comforting buzz.

The slavers went down quickly, now that George was certain and not pulling her punches or trying to convince herself she was just paranoid and twitchy. Grey grumbled and glared at Laney's confusion as the story came spilling out - well. As a story fell grudgingly from his hunched shoulders. George eyed the gaps in it with the scepticism of someone who knew just how difficult it was to spirit a mage away from the mountains, particularly one who suffered quite that much when the Elsewhere roared and tugged at their bones.

"Your sister must be quite something, to pull that off," she said aloud.

"She is," said Grey, and George watched the way his eyes lit up while his shoulders curled further around his ears.

The next time Sez asked for their help in Rivertown, Laney asked Ana to join them. George paused, page unturned, and considered it. She wanted out - she knew that, she’d wanted out of that life since she started, but she never seemed able to walk away from it. She had been so tired, in the mountains, of the weight of a dragon on her shoulders and the endless work to be done. But she missed it, a little, too. Not the weight or the harsh necessity, but the way people looked at her like she was useful. She missed the surety, but she hadn’t been sure of anything since Jack fell.

Rupert didn’t bat an eyelid when she arrived, but looked mournfully at Laney, vaguely reproachful. “I wasn’t expecting anyone else this time, and I don’t have anything I think Ana will like.” George shrugged, the thin sliver of a knife through her belt still glimmering faintly gold to eyes that could see, and took the weighted cosh he handed her. She swung it absently to get a feel for the weight of it, and pulled a face. “It’ll do.”

(Observation #1. Rupert isn’t used to having two allies. It’s not just that he doesn’t trust me to watch this flank, yet, he’s forgetting I’m here altogether. Reasonable, but will need to change; #2. I will need a shield next time)

They filled her in on some of the hunts that she’d missed, and she frowned when they told her about the curse diagram. Grey shrunk and shrugged and stayed studiously quiet, but she collared him later. He grumbled and groused about it, like she’d think less of him for caring, and eventually muttered that he’d already gone to warn them to be more careful. He mentioned the kid’s name, in passing - Grey had never been very good at thinking about what knowledge could be dangerous once he pressed it into someone’s hands.

George blinked slowly, and told him with a deliberate level of offhanded calm that he’d just given her enough information to track the family down with relative ease. Grey squawked and gaped, then hid frantically deeper into the book in his hands.

She didn’t track them down, though. Jack had never been able to remember the names of their rescues; he’d recall the pattern on one’s dress, the weak joke that a kid had laughed at, the story Liam had managed to wheedle out of another about a barn and a cow and a badly timed hiccough. But George had a list in the back of her head, with the names of everyone she’d saved on it. She could look at every pin on Bea’s map since she and Jack had walked through the bakery doors and match them to a name and number.

George remembered a little seer named Elaine, eyes wide, face drawn, the slight weight heavy in her arms and on her chest. She couldn’t recall any stories about her, though, because Liam remembered only the loss, after. Jack hadn’t gotten the chance to remember anything about her at all.

When the curse came, poisoning her luck and sending her crashing to the floor, they half carried her to Sez’s mother. The hag took one look at her, at her hands clean except for the smudge of ink on her fingers, and hissed, long and low. George didn’t flinch, because it was almost a relief to meet someone else who saw that stain as a crime. Rue didn’t bother throwing accusations at her, hauling out a selection of her otherwise unseen scars, just turned on her daughter to demand to know what horror had been brought into her house.

“Ana only killed the ones I sent her after.” Sez was firm, standing tall, defiant - and wrong. George’s tongue was heavy in her mouth, and she couldn’t bring herself to explain that she didn’t deserve this defence, just looked at Rue, steady, and tried to remember to breathe. When she spoke, she cut through a sentence from Rupert she hadn’t heard. Another unasked for defendant, who even without knowing what stains were on her fingertips was insistent that she had done good.

“I never went after anyone - anything - that wasn’t hurting people. I’ve never killed anything that didn’t try to kill m- to kill someone first.” She watched Rue’s face twist, then freeze, as the hag parsed through her mountain-born accent, her age, and what could lead someone to kill a dragon and then claim it was needed. The hag ran clawed fingertips over the palms of her hands, and shook her head.

“Your luck’s been poisoned.” George went still, remembering a boy who’d practically danced between bullets, wondering who this had been designed for in the first place. “Not that you had much of that to begin with, by the looks of things”

George closed her eyes, bone tired with more than just the curse. She remembered blood spilling over her hands, burning (branding), the way purple flowers made her flinch, the way rain slicked mountain walls haunted her nightmares. She remembered forgiveness, unasked for, still unearned, given to her like a blessing. She remembered, cold and distant, what people did with things that were handed to them freely. She remembered blood on her hands, but she remembered blisters and ash ground into every crease of them, too.

"You save people," Jack had said once, and meant you save me.

But I didn't, thought George.

The rifle retort had echoed off of stone walls. If it had been aimed at his shock of red hair the bullet would have missed, but Jack had lunged for Georgie's back, thoughtless, the way he had been guarding her already well-guarded flank for years.

The universe loved Jack, but Jack had loved George.

George had been an old soul on a battlefield a harsh month longer than him. She didn't need to fumble for a pulse, fingers slipping in blood from the gaping exit wound, and so she didn't. She just grabbed the shell shocked child up from Jack's now slack arms and ran, gasping for breath on air that tasted of ash.

She had almost forgotten what that was like - she had begun to grow used to the way air seemed almost clean when it filled her lungs.

When fire and chaos broke out in Rivertown, George was standing at the gates, looking out at the mountains. Laney rested a casual elbow on her shoulder, guns strapped to her sides from her interrupted practice, patient and calm. George had been twitchy for the weeks since Rue’s healing, her mind full of luck and sickness, desperate for news. But she wasn’t leaving - George had walked away from few things in her life, and this badge wasn’t one of them.

She still hated the Bureau but she loved the parts of it that loved her; the soft sunlight on the back of her chair in the library, the stern arches of the dining hall, the twist of Grey’s nose and the soft affection in Rupert’s sighs, the way Laney’s smile was nothing like her brother’s but just as fierce. George would earn her badge, and she would move on.

But it was hard to sleep, leftover adrenaline in her veins, fear on her heels, so she had taken to nighttime rambles along the safer streets. Laney had been out at the shooting range, and fallen into step when she saw her roommate heading out. Even on the safer streets it was wise to have company. They were turning to return to their room when the explosion came, and they shared a single resigned glance before going to investigate. They woke in the dim light of a basement, and exchanged a look filled with a much more furious brand of resignation.

George was too short to hide anything Laney was doing unless they were at opposite ends of a field. She didn’t know what Laney’s plan was, but she trusted her when asked for a distraction, so she tackled their careless watcher, shoulder low into his gut, hands empty and hating it. There had been a knife at her belt for all of the past two years of quiet libraries and laughing dining halls. Her hand had dropped to it without thought every time someone scraped a boot on the ground, and she had hated that too.

Laney broke the world open and stepped through, and George flinched more from that spill of gold than she did from the impact of knuckles against her chin.

George had had few friends, in her still short life. Her childhood playmates had burnt up, unseen and half-forgotten, left, and she had stayed few places long enough to make new ones. Jack had trailed her until she knew all of his sharp edges and bright perspectives, until she trusted him with all of her deepest fractures and fragile hopes, and then she had lost him.

Laney slipped into golden fire, and George wanted to scream - but there was someone with rough fists and angry eyes in front of her, and George was familiar with few things the way she was accustomed to fighting for the right to live. When Laney burnt the door open, George was leaning against the wall, panting, knuckles bruised and bleeding. She ran absent fingers over those red-brown tracks as they ran for the Academy, mourning the way they had been clean of anything but ink just an hour before.

The most beautiful thing George had ever known was her dragon. The fire demon was almost as glorious, and it burned with the same fierce gold. She had mourned the great creature for years, now, had been given her absolution - the demon bore down on her with shrieks of fury and mockery, and for a moment George wondered if this was her judgement, finally come to pass.

But Laney had gone to close the rift. Rupert was crumpled on the floor, and Grey - Grey was a child, helpless in his warded circle, a waiting sacrifice to a thing he had no defence against. George shifted her grip on the sword Rupert had picked out for her, months before, and wished for her spear as she watched her enemy approach. She didn’t tell it she had known things greater and more terrible. George had been given a title, but it wasn’t one she wanted to claim even in defiance, so she made no declarations. She just killed it, and wondered if they’d burden her with a legend for this, too.

There was no golden cloak to give up in exchange for a scrawny sage with an ink-stained nose and flailing hands, but George threw herself into the rift after him anyway. She hadn’t helped him escape the mountains - but he was a mountain child, and she knew about mountain children who burned up in golden fires. She fell into nothing and everything, and reached for something she couldn’t name until she could haul them both home again.

Thorne had eyed Ana with interest when he first met her, then dismissed her from consideration. He was on the lookout for misfits who could be formed into something, people who needed him and people who would therefore appreciate his interest and advice (Laney was a very good actress). George wasn’t exactly typical League material, and he liked the way she was quiet and vicious in every schoolyard fight he’d heard of, but she’d scowled and said she wanted to go to the university and study things. She’d told him a lot about potatoes when he asked what she was studying, and he’d promptly lost interest. It would be months before he realised that this quiet, stubbornly bookish girl who looked at people like she was cataloguing them was the Dragon Slayer.

They didn’t give Ana Jones a legend to her name, but they started saying Laney was the Lady of the Lake reborn. Laney wrote to her brother about it, amused, flattered, and embarrassed. Liam wrote something back about talking when she had books written about her. George scrawled a postscript onto Laney’s reply saying that she was going to write one - “I’ll team up with Laney’s sage and write it - The Better Jones Sibling, maybe, or Jones 2.0 - we’ll send you a signed copy when it’s done”

The next letter home she would write alone. It would be a blunt missive, because George didn’t know how to put her kindness into words, in voice or in writing. She would tell Liam that the slavers had Laney. She didn’t tell him how, but she said Laney had an escape route for herself planned - but to watch out, just in case. She gave it to Sez and slumped in a corner of Sally-Anne’s. She had woken that morning to an empty room and bound wrists, groggy headed and furious, and been halfway through sawing through the knots when a concerned Rupert broke through the door to see why they weren’t responding to his polite knocks.

The journey back to the mountains was a homecoming of sorts, if George had allowed herself to believe in homes. She recognised paths and vistas, inns whose stables she knew better than their kitchens, the scowling of Bureau law enforcement officers who glanced straight over her. Sure, she was golden haired and battle scarred - but she was small, female, and had her nose stuck in a book whenever they glanced her way, a shiny grey badge neatly on her pocket.

They were a particularly unusual League - one Hero and two Sages - but the Rangers had been unusually insistent. “Lots of paperwork to be doing up there, and we’ve been meaning to update our maps, so this is a good team for it”, Sarge had said, scowling, and Heads had peered at him with some puzzlement but a long-earned trust.

Between them, George and Rupert were making headway on the paperwork. George updated the maps too, though with a certain level of intentional vagueness about the parts she’d rather the Bureau didn’t poke around in too much (Thorne would patiently update his versions with the detail accumulated from intel from Spider and his own occasional undercover trips up to Challenge. He would smile a little smugly over the hazy, unexplored areas that Ana Jones left blank. Thorne liked to think he knew more than everyone around him)

Grey peered over his fellow sage’s shoulder and made muttered comments, and George patiently noted them down. In the back of her mind, the list of observations about S. Grey grew a little longer, evidence for a case she was only waiting to be confirmed. His cartographic observations grew more frequent, more detailed, more aware of information you simply couldn’t know from looking around from the main path, and George was certain she could pinpoint the epicentre of Grey’s geography. She said nothing, just idly tried to track which route this mountain child had used when he fled by tracing the edges of his knowledge.

A lot had happened in the mountains over the two years George had been away. She didn’t know all of it, but she had traded letters with Bea and Liam throughout their time apart. If she had been Jack, Liam would have skimmed over the lives he was saving. Bea would have omitted more details than just those not safe to put on paper from her reports. George would have lived through another siege at Challenge and never mentioned it. Jack would have been out of the loop, because he needed to be out from under the weight of it to breathe, because they knew he would take every hint that they were still fighting as a guilt, a failing, a flaw. George needed to remember she could breathe through it, that she could walk away and find other, brighter parts of herself; she couldn’t not know every detail it was safe to tell her. She had lost too much because she let danger outside of her immediate vicinity drift to the back of her mind.

When Laney settled down by their fire, telling them she thought she wouldn’t be going back this time, George poked Grey awake and told him to see if he could get the tracking spell pulled off of Laney. He grumpily told her it was only a ‘look here’ locater, but she insisted on relocating them anyway, sleep patterns be damned. Rupert looked pained, but it was Grey who groused the whole time. Laney settled herself on her saddle and rode next to George, steadily working her way through the dried fruit and rations bars that Rupert had pressed urgently into her hands.

“So, where to now?” George gave her a sidelong glance. There was a hope glimmering in Laney’s eyes that George knew she was privileged to be allowed to see. “Figure it’s time you met your sister-in-law, Jones.” Laney didn’t try to hide her grin, and this was a gift too, earned over long study sessions and tracking Things, steady hands on bandages and stitches, shared jokes and co-written letters, nights of listening to each other’s breathing from the other bunk.

George led them to a small village nestled in a valley. There was smoke curling comfortably from the bakery’s chimney, and Bidi ran to meet them with a delighted screech that made Grey wince and cover his ears. Laney paused, uncertain, watching the familiar way George’s arms curled around that small frame, the press of a pale forehead to one only a shade lighter than Laney’s own, hair twisted back in a style Laney’s fingers could weave in her sleep. Bea followed her daughter out more sedately to smile softly at George, and to open her arms wide to a hesitant Laney. Rupert and Grey hung back, bewildered but trusting, to be invited into the Baker’s domain.

Liam wasn’t home; his return was heralded by a lilting whistle that hit something in Laney’s chest with a joy so fierce it burned. George pressed her hands more firmly around her mug, chest alight with the same joy and mind clouding with the same fears. It had been so long. Liam stumbled to a halt in the doorway, staring at the unfamiliar faces around his table.

George was the most familiar of them, but there were shadows missing from beneath her eyes, and a set to her shoulders that wasn’t as tense as it had been when last they met. His delighted eyes slid from her to Laney when his sister stood, and they stood frozen. When he had last seen Laney, she had still been small enough for him to lift with relative ease. Rupert gave Laney a tiny, discreet nudge, and she threw herself forwards into her brother’s arms. “You left.” “I was always going to come home, Lane. I just got…” Married?” “Well, yeah, that too.”

George snorted with laughter, echoed by Bea as she returned to the kitchen after putting Bidi to bed. Rupert politely concentrated on eating his snow cookie without getting sugar all over the place (a failed mission). Grey stared around in confusion. Laney had taken the secrecy of her brother’s life seriously, and they had not met the Seeress to have her throw knowledge in their faces, trying to split friendships along the lines of their secrets.

Samuel Graves looked at the way Laney was clutching a man with her skin, her nose, the way he had said home. Laney had told them stories about her brother, the way he whistled up magic, and the pieces clicked into place. Grey didn’t go quiet when he was scared, unless there were guns and knives involved, unless he needed to hide something other than his self. When he was scared, Grey went sharp, spiked, and oblivious - but this was Laney. This was a girl who had masks to match his, throwing them aside as she laughed at her brother’s presence. Grey muttered something about unnecessary levels of sap, and curled up with a book from his pack, hiding from the thoughts in his own head. Rupert pushed a glass of water closer to him, and politely helped George and Bea clear the table.

Ana had told none of them who she was, not even Laney. When Liam turned to her and called her George, it was the first time any of her Academy friends had heard the name. She did not feel guilty. Her name had echoes, legends, a far reaching shadow, and she had been in hostile territory. She would not feel guilty for not telling them about the Dragon Slayer; she had told them about the parts of her that mattered.

Laney was brimming with delight. Grey was terrified and hiding in plain view. Rupert went out to chop wood for Bea, guilt twisting his stomach in knots. He had known George was hiding things. He had thought he had let her be.

They had all been hiding things - Rupert had seen Grey's shoulders not struggling under a pack eye shouldn't have been able to lift, the slight smudge of gun-smoke and oil on Laney's fingertips - and he had said nothing, left spaces and spoken softly around their edges. He had noted that George knew a battlefield in ways an Academy sage shouldn't, the years of experience in every block, strike and twisting escape she walked the stable loft through, and he had let her be - except. He had written essays on the Dragon Slayer, tactics and reports, strategies and legends. So had George. They had discussed their key points, listened to the same lectures, anecdotes, and debates. He wasn't sure, now, that he hadn't been hurting her, with every hero worshipful point he'd made, every delightedly recounted story from the Rangers' tactical reports. If she had been trying to walk away, and he kept reminding her - he had thought he was letting her be.

Inside, Bea was going over her map with George. There were clusters of pins that George didn't know the names or numbers behind, and she eyed them curiously, tallying them up. There was a list in the back of her mind, with the names of everyone she had saved on it. They didn't get added to the end of it, as Bea dropped short summaries and recaps out into the warm air for her, because they were not lives she had saved. But they were lives. They were people who were still living. They were people who were worth fighting for, the blood on her knuckles and soul. 

There was a flag raised higher up the valley, to show that someone wanted to speak to them without coming down to the village. In the morning, George rose early to help Bea with the day's bread, comfortable silence strung out between them. Grey stumbled in hours later, and barely hid a flinch as he remembered who exactly he was grumbling a greeting at. In the back of George's mind, another observation was carefully noted down as she murmured a greeting. Liam slipped in soon after, whistling, to fill the room with stories George had missed living.

The cave up the hill was empty when they arrived, but George didn't flinch when a throat was cleared politely behind them. She would have waited, hidden, until they had arrived as well, if their roles were reversed. Liam turned with a smile. Laney blinked, slow and surprised, as she turned to Thorne. 

George watched, leaning against the cold rock wall, and thought we're not the only ones surprised. Thorne was peering at them, hidden behind a bushy beard and pedlar's clothes, and he hadn't expected them to be there. Liam started to speak, and spluttered himself to silence when Laney beat him to it. Thorne beamed at Laney, paternal, praising, and dismissive of everyone except for her and her brother. He was glancing between them, delighted at his little discovery. 

He asked Liam, casual, before leaving, if there was any word from the Dragon Slayer yet. George leaned against the wall and didn't let anyone see the shiver straining to roll down her spine at the possessive way her title fell from those lips.

"Not a whisper," Liam said regretfully, not a hint of a lie on his face. "We'll see you at Challenge."

The road to the woods was treacherous. When bandits struck, George didn't call for Jack - she was too familiar, still, with the soft pad of his bare feet on red dirt to misplace Laney's quiet boot-falls onto his ghost. But Laney still lowered her gun with hands that wanted to tremble, and flinched from her brother's old jokes. Laney had not spent years fighting bandits and slavers with Liam - the gallows humour tripping off his tongue was as foreign to her as the good mountain stew the night before had been. She had never known her brother in anything but peace.

Bureau goons weren't welcome in the Merry Men's domain, aside from a few old friends in the Rangers. George they shook their heads over and squinted at, wary but loyal, grudgingly accepting. Laney was met with raised eyebrows and three separate suggestions that she was actually Bidi. She rolled her eyes and peeled off to shoot targets, waving a stiff, shy Rupert away for being a picture perfect Bureau hero. George sat with her back against a tree and breathed deep as Liam traded stories with Little, reciting old ones for a wide eyed Grey. When he started on their trip to find dragons, she snickered and pushed a few pages of notebook paper and a pencil within reach of her fellow sage's twitching fingers. 

The mossy ground beneath her bedroll was familiar, the curving branches overhead a pattern against the stars she knew from older nights. The rumble of Little's voice in the morning was familiar too, and she stayed still for a minute, eyes closed. There were other voices she expected to hear, nowadays, and she let herself rest for a moment in the quiet murmur of Laney and Rupert, the higher pitched grumble of Grey denying the existence of mornings the way he had at every camp on route from Rivertown. She smiled, and got to her feet. "C'mon, pip, the sun's not going to stop rising because you complain at it."

Challenge wasn't home; George had stopped believing in those years before. But she had helped build these walls, planned the layout of streets, and fought four sieges in its defence. The gates closed behind them and she felt safer than she had since they set out from Bea's cosy hearth side. She signed herself up for watch duty, running absent fingertips over familiar names carved in rough wood as she stared out. Liam spent much of his time either pouring fire into protections or in the infirmary, pouring it into people.

Rupert helped in the infirmary too. Rosie was just about prepared to let a ramshackle League in, with George and Liam both vouching for them, but she wasn't about to let an Academy hero into her planning sessions quite yet. Doc Frederickson was always happy to have another set of hands to roll bandages and check the stores, even if he grumbled and rolled his eyes at them. Rupert knew little beyond basic field first aid and odd bits he'd picked up from Rue over the years, but he could tally jars and calculate required stocks just fine. He could carry water and broth - he could hold shaking hands and speak quietly, offer comfort without thought. 

It took them two days to realise what he was doing. The mages were stable but broken, in infirmary beds if unlucky, covering their dripping hands with gloves if fortunate enough to have been rescued earlier. They lived in stasis, though they didn’t know who to thank. Rupert held leaking fingers and wanted them to be better, and they were. George's breath caught in her throat when Laney ran up to the wall to tell her. Liam had gone frozen in the infirmary even as he croaked out that George should be told, eyes stuck on a miracle he'd given up dreaming of.

Grey went quiet, cold. He thought of his sister, who he hadn't managed to slip out to see yet, and of what this would mean to the family business. Sarge walked into him in the street and went furious, familiar with the face peering at him through overgrown hair, and was slammed into a wall with a sloppy glob of gold. 

After the mine went up, Sarge tried to tell George, and she blinked at him, slow. "I know who he is - I've known for ages. He's just a kid who stayed alive." He spluttered into indignant silence, and she looked at him, steady. “Sarge, he was a child. Just because some of us started that young doesn’t mean   everyone else should have, too.”

She considered doing a pointless search for Grey, on the off chance she was wrong and he hadn't run, but then the rest of the wounded came in without Rupert. Laney was pale, sitting with her back against a wall and heedless of the rubble in her hair. Liam tried to comfort her and flinched when she coolly dismissed him. George bumped his shoulder.  "Let her be. She needs to think, and she needs to be alone. C'mon, Doc knows where you're needed."

George had eyed Thorne cautiously when he found them in Challenge, a battle plan wrapped up and just needing their obedience. She hadn't offered hers up, not to him. Rupert had taken intel willingly, but had held his back straight under Thorne's disbelieving stare (and Liam's delighted grin) and calmly reminded him who was in charge of this League - but Rupert was gone. The stakes had changed.

Spider hadn't been foolish enough to try to become one of Liam's informants. The Dragon Slayer was pragmatic, and not a mage. George he might have tried to bargain with, for the sake of as many lives as he could safely let slip away. Liam Jones was known for mercy, forgiveness - but everyone has their limits, and Thorne had agreed that an operative within the keep was too valuable to gamble on the slim chance that the Piper would be prepared to forgive being dragged into a cell to die. 

When Thorne produced an inside agent like a gift, it was a different Jones who slammed him into the wall and put a gun to his jaw. George Jones put a knife to Thorne's throat - she and Laney had been in enough tight spots together that Laney didn't twitch towards the sound. Liam blinked, then spun magic from the air to flick from hand to hand, a beautiful, deadly threat. 

It was Grey who vouched for Spider to convince them. George glanced over at him, and nodded, slow. She wasn't sure that helping Grey escape was, in itself, enough cause for tenuous trust - but Grey was still there, despite the packed bag he had not very successfully hidden beneath a bedroll after the mine disaster. She waited until Laney had stepped back before letting Thorne go. Spider nodded at George cordially.  "Long time no see, Slayer. I was starting to think you'd retired."

Thorne paused in the middle of an interrogation as to Spider's exact relationship with Grey's sister, and stared. George looked coolly back. Grey snickered, because it would keep Thorne's attention on the vigilante who'd been under his nose for a year and away from the topic of Grey's family.

The keep was familiar territory to everyone except Laney, even if Grey had never seen the lower levels and neither vigilante had seen the upper reaches. Liam ran an absent hand over the cell door he'd spent a cold night picking the lock on, and met George's steady, knowing gaze. She was still so young - he looked at them and felt his heart break again, because they were all just kids. He felt old, at nearing thirty, his baby sister tearing doors open in a methodical search that shrieked frantic desperation if you knew her well enough.

The cells were empty, but Grey muttered about the private labs upstairs. Liam hesitated when they decided to split up, and George nudged him over to join Laney. 

"The two of you destroy all this. We can't risk the Seeress getting hold of you, Liam, you're too much of a prize for the machines." Laney flicked an eyebrow, and George shrugged at her. Liam didn't know that Grey was a mage, because that hadn't been their secret to share. George didn't want to spill his other secret, and tell them that she was pretty sure if Grey was captured they would find it easy to slip in after to rescue him, or that he would mysteriously find a way out himself.

When the ceiling fell, so did Laney. Her leg was broken, and they were running out of time. Liam had two sisters in the keep, and his heart was breaking, because they were both too young for this. They were all to young for this, even him. Laney pushed herself up to sit against the wall, and readied her guns.  "Go. Don't worry about me - I've got a way out if I need one. Trust me, Liam, I can look after myself."

They didn't find Rupert.

Laney joined the quiet branch. Grey settled into the Library like it was a second skin. George went to university, ignoring all of Thorne's flattery and invitations. If Laney had asked, she might have signed up as well - but Laney would rather never feel golden fire on her fingertips again than be the one to drag George into a life she didn't want. They shared a flat in St John's Port, the three of them, and Laney dropped her pack at the foot of the bunk bed when they got the keys, grinning. "You want the top bunk this time? I got first dibs before, only fair you get to choose."

(In a hidden lab, streets away, a boy was writing battlefront dispatches to himself, disguised in the minutiae of Academy bureaucracy)

George fell into a routine at the University, under the familiar mask of Ana Jones, and joined forces with Grey to take over a table, the way they had in the Academy library, their books and papers scattered widely. Even after two years at the Academy, she had still found her hand on the hilt of her knife when someone let a door slam. She had repressed it as a disguise, but as much as she hated the instinct had known she would need it still, had welcomed the reassurance that she was not going soft. She had known she would be going back to the mountains until her war was done. These were instincts she would need.

But now she was done, she was out, a student not a soldier, and her knife was still in her hand quicker than thought. She carved idle patterns on the table to give herself an excuse, and tried to learn how not to grade every sound she heard by what level of threat it was. She found a soup kitchen between her lecture hall and the library to volunteer at, a few weeks in, something to do with her hands and weigh her down. When Wen asked her to run lessons in basic self-defence, she didn't have to think about it. George had spent a year teaching the stable loft crew, and she remembered the way it felt like work well done. So much of her life had been learning how to fight, but this - teaching people to protect themselves had felt like something other than blood on her hands.

Heather drifted back into her orbit, trading notes and freelance sage guidance for the rough leagues back at the Academy. They curled up in the same cheap cafe around the corner from the lecture hall for lunch, hands waving and conversations jumping from tangent to delighted tangent. Leaf had been booted off of the official teaching roster for ignoring orders to disband, so it was Red's wry tones she traded news with when trading tips on how to run a successful self-defence class.

Laney was off to the mountains for weeks at a time, tracking down the remnants of the mage trade and meeting her sister in law in out of the way villages. When she was back, she would swing by the library while George was at the soup kitchen to remind Grey to leave on time and eat something. George thought over this for a few weeks, counting the number of times Grey had forgotten to set out at the usual time when she wasn't there. One evening when she was done at the soup kitchen earlier than usual, she slipped back into the library instead of going straight home. Their shared desk was empty, but Grey's jumper was still there. She started a slow, methodical search.

The blueprints scattered over the table were horrifyingly familiar. Grey twisted his hands and stormed away, slinking back later with peace offerings and a grudging explanation. George took a shaking breath. She had wanted to be free of this - but Laney had told them about houses without firewood, rooftops that wouldn't keep the cold out. George had wanted to be free of this, but she had also been waiting for the shoe to drop - she knew, even if she hated it, that you were never free of the legends you made. She pulled up a chair.

On one of George's soup kitchen days, Wen beckoned her aside and asked her to take a delivery for him. She eyed him a little suspiciously, and he shuffled his feet. "Alright, alright...look, I'm not the only soup kitchen round here. There's a...network, like, and the lady at the centre of it's been hearing about you. She wants to see you. Don't worry, she's fierce, but Marian won't bite unless you're a danger to her people." George blinked, and took the package with careful hands.

When George knocked on the door to Marian's house, Muchly gathered her up in a bone cracking hug and a cry of delight. The other old members of the Merry Men gathered round to clap her shoulder, and the new faces of Marian's crew watched curiously. The room fell silent when Marian stepped in, and her face went as soft as it had in years. There were those there who had seen it softer, brighter; there were others who had never seen her eyes so warm. "Well, now, I have to say I'd been wondering about this lass with yellow hair who knew her way around a brawl." "Aw, Mari, you missed me." George was smiling, but the room was crowded, too many faces, so they slipped away to the attic rooms to talk, Much trailing them with tea and soft biscuits warm from the oven.

(Observation #1. He’s smiling like an open book, but those knuckles have callouses you don’t get from kneading bread, solid stance, if it comes to it that’s one for Liam, I’d struggle to do anything non-lethal; #17. He’s been carrying those biscuits since the Woods, even though he was complaining about hunger just yesterday, so that when Robin needed one it would be there; # 89. You’ve had some easy years at last, old friend, a warm seat and a steady center; #89b. These biscuits are still as good as ever)

Laney was cheerfully dismissive of the idea that she was supposed to keep her work quiet and secret even from her housemates, so when Shay assigned her to surveillance on a possibly less than legal gang, she told George what she knew. George flicked her eyebrows up at the address and nodded.  "You know something."

"I have friends there. You probably ought to do some actual surveillance so your dear boss doesn't get suspicious, but they're not a threat to anyone who isn't a threat to them first." Laney nodded me and started figuring out how to out that into convincing words for Shay's report. She took the draft with her when she went to spy, and casually told Marian she was welcome to read it when she woke tied to a chair.

George swung by and frowned when Much told her Mari was in the middle of an investigation - but a man stumbled through the door before she could go and help Laney explain matters. Much got to his feet, shadowed by a quiet woman with familiar mountain-born features. Laney was free of her bonds before she should have been anyway, and George just nodded at her as she trailed Marian to Shutley's side. Laney crouched to look closer, and frowned. "There's magic tied up in this. George, Grey knows more about curses -"

Wen's was full of familiar faces, people she had served up food alongside and people she'd taught to duck a punch. Some of them were helping hedge witches, faced pale but determined. Some of them were lying on makeshift pallets, faces pale and beaded with sweat. There were unfamiliar faces too, amongst the victims and the helpers. George carried water and followed a hedge witch's instructions to make up a tea with a familiar bitter scent, for soothing throats that had been hacking up cursed bile. Her hands were steady on the knives and bundled leaves; her heart was racing in her chest, fury a painful pulse in her temples.

This curse, or a variant of it, had hooked itself into her soul, once. Once, the boy stubbornly draining himself of power to feed it into Laney's deft fingers had written this, a gift, an absent experiment to see what he could do with his hidden fire. And here it was - miles from the mountains or the Academy, slipping into the water and poisoning her people (the defenceless, the innocents). She knew Grey hadn't handed this over to anyone, or Liam - even Liam had learnt not to trust that much, in the years since leaving his golden childhood -  so she could guess how this had found its way to St John's Port. She wondered when, exactly, Spider had sent this home to Thorne, or if Thorne had simply gone prying himself, once the dust has settled.

"We know," said George, in a back alley with her knife unnoticed in her hand, and her eyes were on Miz Eliza, not Grey. George was not kind. Maybe Grey had wanted to rest, deserved to rest - but you didn't get to choose when your war was done.

Laney was snapping, frustrated fury at every moment they couldn't know Rupert was okay. It had taken some determined negotiating to get Laney to stop bursting through a door none of them could remember opening, measuring attempts in lost hours and the woozy after effects of frenzy wood darts. Her fingers had itched for weeks, while they paced and thought, while George picked through the gaps in her observations (she was missing numbers, sometimes, observations she had made but couldn't remember. She hoped that one of them, at least, was he's alive)

But Miz Eliza just seemed vaguely amused, so George let Laney vent her frustrations while she watched. You could learn a lot, from how someone reacted to pressure and accusations. Mostly, George noted the pleased gleam and twitch of Miz Eliza's lips when Laney mentioned that Thorne was going to burn for this.

 (Observation # 4; the knitted scarf wrapped around Miz Eliza’s throat in defence against the cold sea fog had a familiar pattern and weave. Observation #5; it had been torn, sometime in the past, and mended with stitches not precise enough to be Rupert’s own but in the same colour wool, instead of replaced)

 Miz Eliza slipped in and out of their flat at will, meeting old friends and making careful plans. George dropped by Marian’s house to catch up with old friends and explain about a missing hero. Mari tapped her chin thoughtfully, and slid her eyes sideways towards the staircase. “A…forgetting field, you say?” George nodded. “Best we can figure - of course, it’s difficult to track an absence, but we’ve tried to come at it from every angle.”

Marian nodded, and went to fetch her latest stray. They peered at each other and shrugged; if they knew each other, neither remembered it. “I can get you certain…supplies, that will help with breaking into the Bureau. But in exchange? Take her with you - not that I don’t like her help around here, but there’s nothing we can get a handle on with this except that it must be magical in nature. Sounds like your hunt for your missing friend may be the best chance of breaking it.” George’s lips twisted in a grin, but she didn’t say aw, Mari, your soft side is showing again, because she knew Marian wouldn’t appreciate it, in front of someone she still barely knew.

 Some days, George felt like life in St. John’s Port was just the Academy all over again - Grey’s piles of books and papers merging with hers on a Library table, Heather diverting into fascinating tangents while her hands stayed steady on pipettes, Laney’s soft breathing steady from the second bunk when George laid awake. Gloria called every few days, sometimes to ask for consultation advice for their unofficial little Leagues in Rivertown, but mostly to hear Heather’s voice and nag her about her sleep schedule. She was leaning into it, peace laying uneasy on her battle scarred shoulders, trying so hard to let it blunt the jagged edges of her.

Some days, George felt like this was the Academy all over again - a rest, a retreat, a respite, not a release. Her war was done, except for it’s echoes in the twitch of mountain folk’s shoulders at a flare of gold outside of closed doors, the empty places at hearths and the empty graves to those they couldn’t rescue, the houses Laney spent her spare time in the mountains trying to shore up for winter. There were blueprints scattered over a library table. There was a hero they couldn’t find, a lab (a prison) they had seen but forgotten, lost hours and missing steps, empty space where there should have been a friend.

Rupert broke himself out. His friends weren’t quite mounting an explosive rescue attempt, yet, but they were doing another casual reconnaissance trip - between Miz Eliza, Grey, and George, they were all quite interested in understanding what was going on with the forgettable lab. Laney was more impatient, but she was also outnumbered and reasonably convinced by the idea of having a good plan and solid intel before making a move. Rupert was planning to get out before they did anything, because he didn’t want them to get into any trouble on his behalf - but the best laid plans are easily disrupted when neither side can talk to the other, so they ran into each other in a corridor that didn’t stay empty of foes for long.

(They had been scouting the corridors around the lab, and found a gaping hole where Rupert had shattered stone; they had stepped through, and observations clicked back into the waiting spaces in George’s mind - #11. Guards on the inside of the door, not outside - they’re worried about people getting out, not in; #12. There is a very poor prototype of a mage draining machine on that table, so I guess Laney wasn’t the only one to save a few blueprints; #13. Rupert. #13b. He doesn’t look pleased to see me, just resigned; #39. Well. That explains why the guards are inside - and faded back away when she stepped back through the broken brickwork, leaving gaps that itched at the back of her mind)

When they limped through the doors to Sally-Anne's, George's arm over Laney's shoulder and Grey’s hand on her leg forming a frantic magical tourniquet and curse blocker, Sez slammed past them and practically bowled Rupert over into the street. George had sent a message down from the mountains before they left, in a chain of discreet hands, to tell Sez what they knew. It had not been a soft message. George didn't coddle - she told them Rupert was gone, but they thought taken, not dead, and that they were doing everything they could to find him. A few weeks before Miz Eliza turned up in St John’s Port, she had sent a terse warning that they were pretty certain they knew where he was, and that if they were right, the Bureau was shortly going to become like a hornets’ nest that had been kicked.

Sez had grinned, sharp, over the maps and plans George had never seen or been told about but knew were there. Sez had made sure they were prepared for the Bureau. Sally had made sure the spare beds were made up, and the comfiest blanket was ready and waiting for Rupert.

Grey was clinging to her leg, but George’s world was still fading black around her, and she barely noticed being carried awkwardly down the stairs. She woke to the familiarity of a sickroom; she’d helped out, at Challenge, through four sieges and the aftermath of a sixth, at a soup kitchen turned to plague infirmary, in a multitude of back rooms, barns and caves as they patched each other up after skirmishes. She wasn’t surprised to find Laney flicking through reports by her side, but she was surprised to see Grey there too, pale and curled in on himself as they waited to see if she would survive. Grey usually showed concern in piles of books left close at hand and careless chatter, the vulnerability of affection safely hidden beneath waving hands and sarcasm, flicking pages like a shield.

Her leg was gone from the knee down. It was an odd thought, and she probed at it like a loose tooth when she had quiet moments, but she thought she had lived through the loss of worse in the aftermath of a rescue attempt, in the wake of saving a life. She was hobbling by the time Thorne caught up to them, and she limped along behind Sez and Sally as they went to make their claim. Laney hovered by her shoulder, calm and collected, hands held perfectly still because Thorne wasn’t allowed to see her vulnerabilities. George leaned on her crutches and watched a kingdom be claimed in the defiant lift of Sez’s chin and the way Sally-Anne’s feet were planted in the Rivertown mud, solid and certain.

Sez brought the quiet work of hedgewitches to life, and it rose in curtains of gold around them. George did not flinch from that light - Thorne wasn’t allowed to see her old wounds, either. It was beautiful, the steady, slow work of many hands, a thing built with drops of magic whenever they could be spared. But she was glad that the shutters in Sally-Anne’s apartment were thick. George wasn’t sure whether she would be able to sleep without nightmares, with that golden fire behind her eyelids.

George signed herself up to help Red with his adopted trainees in the old warehouse they’d commandeered, once Rue declared her fit for a prosthetic. She wasn’t up to much practical demonstration, but she leaned comfortably against the wall, stump propped up on a crate, and called drills and kept an eye out for people to shove in Leaf’s direction for advice. She signed up for watch duty as well, because she knew how sieges worked, and her eyes were as sharp as ever. In idle moments, when her knife found its way into her hand after an unexpected shout from the street below, she carved words into the low wooden wall around the platform - we were here.

Rupert was hard at work on his rememberer, once he’d translated his own code, and George helped with that, too - she’d been told, often, that she didn’t do well with idle hands, and it was true. At a crammed table in Sally-Anne’s, Laney and Grey sniping happily at each other and Rupert sighing pointedly, she felt her shoulders settle. Her handwriting crammed into corners around theirs on scrawled papers was a familiar thing - they had set work on the generator aside, for the time being, in the interests of focusing their resources on the more urgent task.

Miz Eliza looked over their shoulders, but her knowledge of machines lay more in the practical auto-repair field than the design side of things. She settled into a nearby booth to write up her notes from her aborted field work, and to keep an eye on her son that looked vague to the point of non-existence until you noted how often she smiled at nothing, and how often Rupert gave a put-upon, pointed sigh.

Marian’s stray didn’t help much, either. She peered at the diagrams, curious, and discussed how the curse felt from her side of things, but she didn’t seem to have an engineering mind. Wren adopted her instead, when she wasn’t taking shifts on one of the watch towers, to help write lists and schedules, and to keep an eye on Elaine as she ran in three directions at once.

George watched her write up plans, eyes sober as she made murmured suggestions about safeguards and redundancies, and thought I don’t know who you are, but these aren’t your first days of war.

There were so many things that none of them knew, then. Things they had been made to forget - holes in their memories, words they could remember but voices that they couldn’t - but it doesn’t always take a curse. George had forgotten, or she had not wanted to think - just because she and Liam had been Jack’s family, didn’t mean they had been all of it. He had left more breaking hearts behind than just theirs.

Leaf worried about all of the Academy kids trapped on the other side of the walls, the stable loft crew. He and Red been mentioning a Terence, offhanded, for months of phone calls, now - but they had never said the second half of that name was Farris.

Tessa was small, female, and determined to be brave. She hid so many parts of herself, for the chance of a blue armband and the strength to look after those who needed protecting. Her cousin Jack hadn’t come home to visit in years, but Academy graduates cycled through the Forest Wayhouse regularly. For a while there had been a woman with a silver badge, who lent a delighted Hansel books, and told a rapt Tessa about the Academy. When Beryl-Sue started to talk about what it took to be a hero, slightly patronisingly, Tessa had sniffed. “I know about heroes. My cousin Lily -”

Her forms came back green; her acceptance was returned blue, along with an apology for a previous clerical error. Hansel’s were edged silver, and they set out together along the same path their cousin had walked, so long ago. Jack had never come home. He hadn’t written, either, and Tessa had seen what that did to the family, so she wrote every few weeks even if she didn’t think she was saying much. She hunted down the stable loft crew, Hansel rolling his eyes and leaving her to it, and felt the breath stolen from her by a girl stepping into the ring like it was a second skin, students parting for her without thought. When Gloria ran her through drills and talked about centres of gravity at their unofficial classes, she occasionally got sidetracked into talking about Ana, and all the fun tricks her friend had known about how to tackle an opponent bigger than you.

Tessa came from a family of heroes; she knew their names, their stories. She knew the name Jack Farris, and the name Beanstalk. This far into a year at the Academy, she knew the name Giantkiller as well.

George didn’t know the name Terence - but she didn’t know the name Tessa either.

Jack had never been good with names; he would tell you every mishap, misdeed, and hilarious mess a cousin had gotten into in their lives, but he rarely remembered to call them anything other than ‘my cousin’, so George had always been vaguely uncertain just how many relatives her best friend actually had. She’d figured out a rough estimate based on how much trouble Jack got into and dividing the stories by that. She sincerely hoped this was an underestimate, because if not she wasn’t entirely certain how there was a Forest left.

When Leaf said the name Farris with a delighted grin, flicking through a smuggled out Academy report, Red huffed and muttered an aside of little reckless hellion, like Leaf only smaller and even scrappier, and a hero to boot, and George felt herself go still. Laney frowned.

“Didn’t Sarge mention a Farris, in Challenge when we were talking to -” George wasn’t sure what her face was doing, to make Laney trail off when there were people watching to see her be uncertain. She slipped out through the kitchen, ignoring the worried looks as best she could, and pressed her back to the rough brick wall outside. She pressed her forehead to her knees and tried to remember how to breathe in anything other than shaking gasps until the world wasn’t pressing too close on her from every side.

George was up one of the watchtowers when disguised mages struck the wall hard enough to shake her platform, sending her stumbling to the wooden floor, testing their defences. The world was roaring gold fire, and she gasped for breath, crawling for the arrow slot and reaching for her gun. Her breath was still shuddering, caught somewhere deep in her ribs, but she gave a shaky exhale and squeezed the trigger the way Laney had taught them all, out on the Academy grounds one peaceful night. A returning streak of fire melted it out of her hands, and Grey flung his arms wide, stealing waves of incoming fire. His eyes were wide, frightened, furious, where moments before they’d been bright with indignation at a world where a child wasn’t allowed to read.

She pushed herself up and went for her pistol, gasping out a warning as the wall creaked inward like the sky was falling on them. The world was golden fire pouring down on her, even as the sky swam back into view, and her hands were shaking. The long-healed burn on her side itched, and she pushed it to the back of her mind as she rose up to her knees to take aim.

George fell again, and her cheek was pressed to greenish tile - the air was thick with disinfectant and coffee - there was worn wood beneath her cheek and her folded arms - the air was thick with coffee and baking bread - there was a woman with dark hair and mountain born features whose name she knew, cheek pressed to tile, cheek pressed to wood, dark eyes and dark hair and soft, strong hands.

Beatrice the elder sat across from Rupert, gasping from a blow that had not been violent, that had shaken through her like waking to a cold house and an empty bed, clutching at his trembling hands. George knew her name, now, shared half of it, but neither of them were thinking of that.

George shared half of her name, but far away in the mountains was a child who had all of it.

"Bidi", whispered George, "Grey, tell Lane to get Bea home, now, she shouldn't wait for this to be done, they have to go -"

Jillit Chu would not know until that evening, when she left with all of the Bureau's secrets still lying ready on her tongue, but in the mountains Liam dropped his steaming mug to shatter at his feet and Bidi went frozen for three heartbeats before bursting into tears. They wouldn't have dried on her face before Bea stumbled through a rift to dry them with her sleeve.

The room next to Rupert's cupboard cell had been a store room the entire time he had been there. In this world, Laney Jones hadn't brought the Seeress in, quietly, slinking through those plush halls of Grey's childhood, soon after joining the Bureau.

Weeks before, Laney had not been laid out on the floor, burnt wrists trembling, pointing a gun into a bright light and squeezing the trigger to stop the mayor from methodically removing George's limbs to break his returned son to obedience. Laney had been laid out, trembling, in the bowels of the keep, leg crushed and hands shaking with pain as she waited for friend or foe to round the corner.

George had been picking the cuffs, nimbly, still too slowly, hearing Liam whispering in the back of her mind and trying not to think about people handing you ways to free yourself, trying not to think about golden fire. Grey had been gasping, trembling, begging his father to stop, please, limp on the polished floor. Spider was tense at the Seeress' rigid side.

Sandry had promised to always be the scariest thing in the room for Sam. She had promised her brother he never needed to be afraid - and here she was, watching as his fear was flung wide for everyone to see, no power swirling at his fingertips to help him.

Once, Cassandra Graves had had an aunt and an uncle. When Mayor Graves was eighteen, his sister had lain discarded at their brother's feet, flames spilling from his fingers. His elder brother had not lived ten minutes more.

Grey had screamed, helpless, the Elsewhere still beyond his reach - but George had gotten the second cuff free, the knife from her boot, as gold faded from their vision, and Spider had lunged for the man he had pretended to follow, no longer hiding.

When Samuel Graves was fourteen, his elder sister lay discarded at their father's feet, gold dripping sluggishly from the weapon clutched in his hands.

Mayor Graves had not lived five minutes in a world that no longer held his daughter.

The siege went on. A few weeks after they all remembered her name, Jill turned up on their collective doorstep with a sharp smile and shoulders squared. They had met before they stood in the rubble of the escaped lab, on one or two occasions. The second time George broke into the hidden lab, Jill had ducked her head immediately back to her work. The fourth (she had gone at irregular intervals, even when she had guessed it would no longer work - to check that the field was still there, to make sure Rupert knew they were still out there, to convince Thorne that they still hadn’t figured out what the gaps in their memories meant), Jill had said nothing when George slipped a stray blueprint down the side of her boot, and let one eyelid drop in a flicker of a wink. The sixth, Jill had put an arm around Rupert’s shoulders and tugged him gently away, eyes soft - an apology, a promise to look after him, that George had forgotten as soon as the guards were done dragging her out of the door.

They’d worked together at Wen’s, too, when the soup kitchen turned plague house - but there had been no time for names, then, so they hadn’t been introduced until George was looking around the dust strewn lab. When they sat Jill down in Sally-Anne’s, George dropped down opposite her and held out a hand. Jill considered her as she shook it, a grip George remembered from their brief meeting in the lab.

“I worked in the mountains, for - a long time. I saw a lot of mages die, but I’ve seen more than a few stable, thanks to you. So. Thank you.” Jill shook her head, but she was curious rather than offended. “I didn’t do it for gratitude, you know. And I wasn’t exactly doing it for you.” George shrugged.

“I know. But you did a hard thing. And I know no one asked you to, but it was a hard thing, and a thankless thing. Except now I am thanking you, because it was the right thing, or a right thing, what you did.” She tucked her hands back into her pockets and sat back. “And I’m sorry, for whatever you cut away to do it.”

They compared lists over fried fish, Laney producing paperwork like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat when they told her what they needed. Some of Jill’s rescues had been George’s, first, so she packed her bag. She had been telling herself she was out, but she had known she wasn’t, really, with Rupert still missing, with cold homes that weren’t ready for winter, and empty spaces where there should have been people. But Rupert was sitting next to her, solemn and steady, their bloodless generator had come to humming life in the attic across from Sally-Anne’s - and this felt like it could be the end, finally.

Laney ported them out to skies that were as familiar as breathing, and to ones that none of them recognised. George scrawled constellations on the pages of Jill’s notebook, and opened her eyes wide at every new horizon they met. They left people staring at their fingertips, no longer leaking gold, or left flowers at the graves of those for whom they had done everything they could, once. Sometimes, while Rupert held hands and spoke softly, George slipped back out of doorways to breathe.

She had to do this; she had to be there, to walk these paths. But she didn’t have to watch Rupert save lives with the memory of all the lives that hadn’t made it ringing in her mind, if it was hurting her. She didn’t have to stay, and she breathed deep gulps of air that tasted like salt, or gritty with sand, or crisp the way the skies of her childhood had been, and reminded herself of that - this was a choice, not an obligation.

George had never known Winston. If he had been on Bea’s radar, a missing soul stolen by something none of them had yet put a name to, George didn’t know of him. But the quiet branch had, so Laney took them to tell his family, years after the fact, that their boy was never coming home. Jill had a letter, crumpled and worn, a time capsule from a younger woman facing a hard, cold future, and there were tears on her cheeks that had been waiting years to fall. George wrapped her fingers around the thick tea that had been pressed into her hands, while Jill listened to old, treasured stories as though her life depended on it, and thought about another boy who was buried somewhere his family would never see.

When they returned to Rivertown, George let Jill drag her out to market stalls and then introduced her cheerfully to Rue. She sat half the night with a sheet of paper and a pen, before curling up in her old, worn bedroll to try and sleep. There were words buried somewhere in her chest, but she couldn’t seem to dig them out and pin them down in neat lines, apologies and explanations.

The bakery had been off limits, throughout their quiet war; the Seeress had known not to make things too personal, so Bea and Bidi had been in no more danger than any other mother with a child who had fire in her veins (the Seeress had known many things, but not who gave the Giantkiller and his allies their marching orders). But Thorne thought himself invincible, untouchable; so Liam had lain gasping on the floor, everything in him spiralling and twisting, while Thorne held a knife to Bea’s throat.

Help had come, followed by Laney and George. The bakery was ash and burnt timber, and George had dug her nails into her palms. There was no mountain lupin in Bea’s garden, but the scent of it was thick at the back of the Slayer’s throat all the same.

“There’s a Farris, at the Academy in Rivertown.” Bea’s hands stilled on the pan she was cleaning in her aunt’s kitchen. George kept polishing the glass in her hands, eyes down. Liam was curled up with Laney and Bidi by the hearth, teaching his daughter one of the songs the Jones’ siblings had grown up with. His voice cut off sharply (for months, Bidi would break the song in two where there shouldn’t be a pause), and George reached for another glass instead of looking to see what was in his face. “I - I don’t think they know. About Jack.”

She laid her hands on the table in front of her; she thought if she tried to reach for a third glass to dry she would shatter it. The silence stretched on, waiting for her to find her words, to chase them out into the open air. This was the youngest she had felt in years, and she pressed her palms into the wood. “I think I have to tell them. I owe him that.”

“Jack would be the first to say you don’t owe him anything, Georgie.” Bea voice was quiet and steady, but soft in the way she only went when she was a breath away from tears. George looked up, and nodded, thinking but Jack also said he would make it home. Bea stepped forwards, arms open, eyes knowing, and George folded into them with a gasp. Liam curled his arms around them both, one hand buried in the short cropped curls he’d watched Jack cut for years, the way he had in the graveyard down the road at the funeral of a good man.

But there was a wall between Rivertown and the Academy. There was a war building between them, and they weren’t the ones who got to say when it would start. The second battle for Driftwood Island started, and George went to call their allies to arms. Little John called his volunteers to their feet, and George pressed her back to the rough bark of trees she had slept under for weeks on end, once. Laney handed over her pistols, hands trembling ever so slightly. George took them silently. It had been weeks after the mountains that Laney had confided about her hands, the way they shook when she looked down the barrel of a gun even at a painted target, her handwriting sloppier than it had been since childhood, the knots she had to tie bigger so that her fingers could stumble through patterns they had once danced through. George wasn’t good at comfort, but she had let Laney cry on her shoulder in the quiet dark of their shared room.

Her station was her usual watchtower with Grey, and she pressed her hands to the carved words - we were here. She breathed deep, and readied her gun, Laney’s pistols a not unwelcome backup at her sides. There were battles every side of her, but she stayed steady. She had lived through sieges before; she knew where she was supposed to be. Grey ran in chase of a handful of enemies who slipped through a crack in the walls, while George patched it up and hauled herself back up to her station.

The comms spells were a background hubub, until someone said her name, and she listened with half an ear, attention on the stretch of road and walls ahead of her, the part of the Academy courtyard she could mutter reports about for Leaf to direct his teams. Laney took a steady breath, and George held her hands still on her gun, remembering a peaceful Academy evening, a half-circle of faces listening to a sharpshooter teaching them how to aim.

“Do you know how Spider died?”

The Seeress had never made it down to St John’s Port, to a prison she would share with Rupert, to spill Thorne’s secrets into the quiet darkness that to her eyes alone was lit with swirls of endless gold. But Bea had asked, offhanded and careful, and so they knew - there had been no mob. There had been a quiet trail of people slipping into the keep to see the bodies, laid out side by side - the Mayor, the Seeress, and the long-limbed Spider. But no-one had dared cross the threshold until the Bureau told them the news was true, and welcomed them in to reassure themselves that their worst nightmares were gone.

(They knew now - Thorne had wrapped Bea up in his forgetting curse for several reasons, and one of them had been the suspected secrets of his that lived in her head.

Jill had known, because Thorne had grumpily informed Jeremiah that they were supposed to have had Dadlus but an operative had gone rouge and shot him, so they would have to recreate his work from the scattered notes they’d been able to retrieve. She had thought, briefly, about trying to track down which operative it was by looking through the list of field agents recently lost, but she had secrets of her own more important than someone else’s justice)

George was no stranger to the aftermath of battle, the stink of blood and the way a healer’s face would go still when it was bad. She carried water and bandages, peg clicking evenly on the floor, and she pressed sweetened tea into Weeds’ hands while Rue curled over Red.

“If he can be saved, they will,” she said, instead of he’ll be okay, because she had been on battlefields for years before this, and she had never liked people lying to her to make her feel better. Grey poured fire into Rue’s worst cases, and blinked at his stained hands with a glassy-eyed shock that George had seen on so many faces before. Jill pressed a damp cloth into his hands, her own gaze steady. George wanted to sleep for a year, but she leaned forwards and nudged Grey.

“I had a friend who was a healer, up in the mountains. One of the ones who went with me to find dragons.” Grey blinked, tearing his eyes away from the red streaks he was leaving on the towel. “Dragons don’t really do names, the way humans do - they do descriptions. They called him red handed man, because he was bandaging up Liam’s arm - because he was a healer.” Grey tilted his head, a scholarly light in his eyes that made something in George’s shoulders relax even as she braced herself for questions.

The next time she went to help in the sickbay, Professor Merris was stomping around, scowling eyebrows and a blank stare when George introduced herself as Ana. He did a sympathetic double take at her wooden leg, and George shrugged. “I’ve done enough adventuring. It’ll get me wherever I need to go.” She let him think she was just careless and putting a brave face on it, and went to carry water between beds and bully some food into Leaf while they waited for Red to wake up properly.

That night, Leaf curled up on Red’s infirmary cot, and Gloria wept on George’s shoulder about Clem, who George had known more from Heather and Gloria’s stories than her own conversations with the boy. Rupert settled down next to her at breakfast the next morning, to ask her to help him inventory damage at the Academy.

George suspected she was supposed to want to flinch at the damage, at another place she had lived destroyed, but this had never been home. She ran a fingertip over the words dragon bait on the doors, and smiled to herself. Wherever you go, people carve themselves out onto the nearest surface, their thoughts and names and jokes and declarations - whatever happens next, we were here.

An excitable combat spec skidded to a halt by them, a shadow with a silver badge at her back, and George’s feet stilled. Rupert glanced at her, wary. She had asked Leaf, before everything kicked off, if he could arrange a meet for her with the Farris cousins, when things settled. She had seen them in the makeshift infirmary after the walls were taken down, helping Nurse cart supplies down from the Academy and checking in on their friends. She had heard their names, but there had been lives to save, first.

Tessa looked at them, eyes wide. She had heard their names, too.

“You’re George the Dragon Slayer. I’ve read - we studied mountain vigilantes last semester, and I’ve hear all about you, you’re a hero and you’re a - you’re the best and Leaf said - Leaf said you wanted to meet us?” She was beaming, bright and bursting, and George recognised some of it as desperation for something good to hold onto, in the aftermath of battle, of loses even in victory. “I wrote a paper on you - Hansel helped - well, you and the Giantkiller.” Tessa’s eyes flicked to George’s right side, as though she expected to see another figure there too, and George didn’t flinch. Hansel nudged his cousin, and she flushed. “Um. Sorry. Leaf said you wanted to speak to us?”

“I - yes. It’s about - it’s about Jack. He - was one of my best friends.” George swallowed, watching their breath catch at the past tense. “He was my right hand man, too. We fought together for years, him, me and the Piper - Jack the Giantkiller. And I’m sorry, but he isn’t coming home. He saved so many lives, but he died doing it. He was - he was a hero, a real one”

Tessa reached blindly for Hansel’s hand, eyes wide. Rupert hovered, helpless, and George fought not to let her shoulders hunch. Tessa was so very determined to be brave, and here it was, even if she didn’t know it - tears rolling down her cheeks, trusting her cousin-in-arms to catch her if she broke, the way this was too heavy for her shoulders to bear but would be carried anyway. Hansel reached out and clutched her fingers, eyes bright and his chin raised.

“Of course he was. He was a Farris.”

Not long after, George woke when the warehouse door eased open and watched Bidi approach through her almost closed lashes. She rolled to her feet at the last moment to swing her up into her arms, grinning. Liam followed his daughter in, laughing, and spread his arms wide. “Surprise! We’re going on a road trip.”

Miz Eliza split the driving with Rupert and Bea, and they rotated between vehicles to trade stories - archaeological digs, mountain customs, the different skies they had all walked on, the way the quiet had a texture in the Forest. Tessa and Hansel were a paired set for the entire leg of the journey that took them to the Forest, to tell the rest of the Farris clan that their quiet, fading hopes were futile. One of Laney’s more trusted deputies was going to port out to the Forest in a week’s time, to pick the Farris cousins back up after they’d had some time with their family.

(Tessa wouldn’t be hiding any part of herself, when she came back, except for the way her heart felt shattered, and the voice in her head that wondered if she could have saved anyone, if she’d been just a little bit better. She would try to hide this last from even Hansel, but her cousin would press close to her side while they sat in their shared room, palms wrapped around scalding mugs, every time dark thoughts kept her awake late into the night, and refuse to let her blame herself)

Their convoy went on to the Deserts, to part ways with Miz Eliza and introduce Bidi to the rest of her family. George had submitted her paperwork for the next semester at the University, but she sat curled in an alcove under the stained glass windows, and thought she could love this place - maybe even in it’s entirety. It was tempting - a fresh start, a new sky - but she liked finishing things once she’d started them, and she hadn’t been lying when she’d sternly told Miz Eliza she already had her eye on a supervisor.

Though she did ask Rupert to introduce her, briefly, to a couple of the names his mother had been dropping in a bid to tempt her to stay. After all, she wasn’t opposed to the idea of going on to do a doctorate, and after a few years in St. John’s Port a change of scenery would probably be quite welcome. Rupert grinned, and handed her another parcel of bribes to help distribute. “It’s always good to make a strong first impression, Miss Jones. And Dr. Jacques is a great fan of a raspberry tea blend you really don’t get in the markets here.”

They received letters sporadically, as they travelled through the deserts and met up with the Jones family. George traced her fingers over the constellations on the backs and corners of the letters Jill sent her, and stayed up late one night scrawling down maps of the stars. Liam leaned back in the sand next to her and pointed them out, because even if they were the same stars she could see a few days away in Rivertown that didn’t mean they saw the same stories there, and she wrote her replies on the reverse.

On the outskirts of Rivertown, they waved goodbye to all of the Joneses except two. Laney swung Bidi solemnly through the air one last time as George pressed her forehead into the crease of Liam’s shoulder. Bea was smiling, soft, and reached for her hands once again when Liam stepped back. “You come visit us, and you write - call when you can, but I know what you’re like once your nose gets into a book.” George wrinkled her nose in a laugh. “If you change your mind and decide you need an extra pair of hands with a hammer up there…” “We’ll be sure to ask Laney to port that young Leaf up to burn off some energy.” Bea grinned, and Laney snickered. George shook her head, and squeezed Bea’s hands gently before stepping back.

Red and Leaf offered up spare spaces in their little home to returning friends, Grey already curled into a nest in the spare room. George slept under a hedgewitch-made blanket, her bedroll still neatly stowed by her packed bag, for a few days, until she was sure the dust had settled enough for the time being.

The closing of Sally-Anne’s was an end of an era, in many ways. George didn’t dance, but she perched in a corner with Red to laugh at friends, the way they had on so many cheerful evenings, then hopped up to grab a tray and try to convince Sally to sit down for a change. She was surprised but not shocked at the crowd that trailed them out to the porting warehouse, when it was time to go.

Jill had set out on her own travels already, but before she had she’d pressed a folded sheet of notepaper into George’s hand, with an address in St John’s Port, and the location of a market stall who’s owner would know where to find her if Jill’s flat had been reclaimed, or staked out by the Bureau. Rupert passed her a bundle containing his personal collection of volumes on the First League into her hands with a smile, and she hugged it close to her chest. She had scoffed over the First League early in their acquaintance, a long discussion that had been, for the two of them, close to a heated argument. She wasn’t surprised that he had remembered, even if nowadays she already understood what the Leagues had grown from, that she had wanted to read their thoughts for herself.

Laney pressed her hand up against the skin of the world and broke it, the way she had at thirteen, aching for something she could never have. Gold washed over them, and George didn’t flinch from it, even when it curled in lazy drifts around her ankles. Grey was pale even outside the wards, clutching onto Rupert’s steady arm, but he had insisted that he wanted to be there to see her off. Leaf was waving, eyes bright and delighted (Red was smiling at him, fond, if you knew how to look). Gloria was hopping from foot to foot excitedly, a care package clutched in her plump hands.

George settled her pack, and stepped into the Elsewhere, dissolving into fire. Gloria was a bright bubble of intention and a razor sharp attention one one side of her. Laney was all worry and protection, determination strong enough to shatter on the other. Every creature that had died at George’s spear circled her, but there was more to her than their blood on her hands.

You save people, Jack had said once, earnest and young, a boy who hadn’t yet learnt to fall.

I saved myself, she thought, stepping out into the fog of St. John’s Port, and breathed deep.

[writingfromthevoid]

Your hunger games au sounds so cool! It has so much potential and there's so many ways it can go

I'm curious, do you have any ideas about Ranboo? Would he be related with Dream or Techno in any way? I just think it has a lot of potential, specially with this idea I got of Ranboo being taken in the 100th reaping, same as Tommy. Then Dream, Techno and Wilbur would have something to lose as they work on the rebellion with more urgency than ever. (also sensei techno pog) (maybe the capitol suspected a rebellion and picked their kids on purpose? perhaps? maybe?)

I am actually so glad you asked about Ranboo because you’ve given me the perfect excuse to talk about him more. 

Ranboo is from District One!! His mentor is, in fact, Technoblade. 

Ranboo, though he has experienced the same training as everyone else in District One, is very anxious about the hunger games (understandably so), and this is heightened by the fact that it’s a quarter quell which means it’s not gonna be like the other games. (I’ll get into the quarter quell at a later date). He’s overall a very anxious boy who was picked on in his training academy, and he’s wondering why the universe decided to hate him. 

Then, he finds out The Blade himself will be his mentor, and he gets a bit happier. Because Ranboo is a fan of Technoblade. While most victors mostly have fans in the capitol, there are definitely people in the districts who admire them, and Ranboo really looks up to Techno. Techno always appears so calm and collected, and Ranboo wishes he could be like that. So, when he finds out Techno will be there, he gets the slightest bit less anxious. Yes, he’ll probably die, but he thinks it’s fine since he at least got to meet his idol. 

The funny thing, though, is that he gets on the train expecting to just be with the escort, his mentor, the other tribute, and the other tribute’s mentor. (Though, even then, he doubts he’ll see the other tribute and the other mentor because they’ll probably be in different cabins in the train. District One has way more victors than District Twelve, so while Katniss and Peeta were together with one mentor in the books and movies, District One can actually afford to give their tributes space and allow them their own mentors). 

So, Ranboo is expecting quality time with The Blade with a couple of appearances from Exdee, but instead he walks in the train and sees Dream just lounging around, eating some food, acting as if he owns the place.And he’s so confused. He’s wondering if there’s been a mix up or if Techno decided to not mentor him for some reason. Keep in mind that Ranboo definitely knows who Dream is—Techno and Dream won back to back and have this whole rivalry thing going on that everyone knows about. Literally everyone. So, Ranboo is convincing himself that it’s okay if Dream’s his mentor instead, and then Techno just appears, takes food out of Dream’s hand, and acts as if nothing is wrong. 

Dream is actually just there because he always makes sure to go to the capitol to help with rebellion plans, whether he’s a mentor or not. The capitol allows him to show up because he’s one of the capitol’s favorites, so the citizens would probably riot if he wasn’t allowed in. And the Dream Team is very popular and includes a member from a high standing capitol family, so there’s really nothing they can do. He also tends to do interviews and stuff, so it at least seems like he’s contributing something at that time. 

But Dream just tells Ranboo he’s there to see George, and he goes on a big dramatic speech about forbidden love (though I would like to say there is no romance in the story—everything Dream says abt that is in a joking tone)

So, Dream just kinda vibes as well, and though it’s probably not allowed, District One already gets away with more things than other districts and Dream as a person gets away with more bc Charisma + Dteam. 

The victors in the rebellion have this entire thing of not getting attached to tributes bc that’s just bad. Statistically, most of those tributes will die, and they can’t allow their emotions to cause them to lash out and ruin the rebellion. They’ve all gotten attached in the past, and it’s great when their tributes survive, but they really try not to (and it’s gotten easier to be detached as the years go on). 

But, Techno and Dream end up attached to Ranboo. Maybe it’s because they’re already planning to use the quarter quell as a distraction for the rebellion to properly begin, or maybe it’s just something about how truly kind and nervous but well meaning Ranboo is despite everything. Regardless of why, they end up attached. 

Surely this won’t have any negative repercussions for them :)

[viscoushibiscus]

DREAM SMP BEASTARS AU BECAUSE I AM BORED AND WANTED TO

I got the idea for this AU like AGES ago and wanted to finally finish the dream team characters ( just for comparison, this was started back when Niki didn't fully dye her hair pink yet, and it's probably made somewhere during Tommy's exile). I just really like the dichotomy between herbivores and carnivores in Beastars and thought exploiting them for possible fluff and angst is a great idea. Here are a few head cannons I came up with:

-Dream is a coyote, and one of the strongest students at the school (Cherryton academy or maybe another school?). Everyone thinks he's going to be the next Beastar because of his charisma and very accepting nature, though it's a tough pick between him and Techno.

-thing people don't know abt him is dream actually goes to the black market (place for herbivore meat trade, which is illegal) very often.

-He used to sneak out of class with Sapnap, and one time he brought Sapnap to the black market. He and Sapnap ended up making it sort of a monthly to bi-weekly thing

-when the two became friends with George, however, Sapnap started to feel bad for eating herbivore meat and started flaking out. Dream tried to reason with him that it's "completely different" but sapnap still refuses to go because he feels he has at least SOME moral backbone to fight his carnivore instincts. the whole affair kinda puts a stick in their once strong as hell friendship. Sapnap still sticks by his values though, especially when he makes friends with Karl ( a llama) and Quackity (a duck). Dream still thinks of Sapnap as a coward for being such a softie.

-dream acts very protectively over George ( who is a dwarf rabbit), and George is either completely oblivious to his advances or has zero self-preservation instincts being next to a carnivore.

-idk if Sapnap as a panda bear would be 2 meters tall or have to take the government-mandated medication, but just for the angst factor, imagine him having to take that strength-reducing medication, and always gets such a bad head-ache. He's just in his dorm room, writhing in pain, and bbh always comes and brings him soup, or honey, and comforts him, rubbing his back, encouraging him.

-Bbh is the absolute nicest panther ever, he was probably a past beastar or gonna be a candidate for one.

-Tommy has a one-sided rivalry with dream, Tommy doesn't want to be a beastar as much as he wants to just kick Dreams ass at something like Techno does and put him in his place.

-One time though, tommy decides to follow Dream when dream sneaks out late at night. Worst f**king decision ever made. He is lead to the black market, and the moment he steps in, he's IMMEDIATELY overwhelmed by all the scents and smells, it's so so much. He sees all the herbivore meat hanging from hooks and stuff, at first he's pulled to it, but immediately cowers out, thinking of tubbo and techno and starts having a mini panic attack in the alleyway. He runs away as soon as he can.

-The next day, Tommy feels very uncomfortable around everyone. He's just very reactive to the slightest movement. He's an omnivore, so he doesn't have that need for meat as carnivores do, but he's still pulled to it. Nearly biting off Tubbo's hand at some point. At that point, he just decides to hide in a bathroom stall until classes are over. Ranboo finds him there, sobbing in the corner, and sits beside him. They share their problems, Tommy shares his story about the black market, Ranboo empathizes.

-Tommy originally hated Ranboo because he didn't feel that Tubbo was safe hanging around a carnivore( ranboo is a komodo dragon, because ender dragon->dragon->komodo dragon connection), but Tubbo just told him that Tommy himself is an omnivore so he shouldn't hang around him either if that's the case.

-Tubbo actually doesn't fear death, death fears him. He can, will, and does walk into the carnivore dorms to hang around his friends at 2:00 am, thank you very much.

-most, if not all of the dream smp is in the drama club, and some go to different clubs for different interests along with that.

-The dream smp lore is just a big ass multi-part play they're all working on in drama club

-Niki is a golden retriever, she is always very kind, and even herbivores feel safe around her. Don't be fooled by her appearance though, she is still very fierce when she needs to.

-one of the teachers is an ant-eater, and Wilbur absolutely hates that teacher and hates anteaters by extension.

-Wilbur also has a friend in the drama club, who is a blue sheep, but never caught her name, so he just calls them Friend. even when he finds out about their name, he still calls them Friend for the inside joke.

-at some point Wilbur was so sleep-deprived he started looking like a ghost, people start nicknaming him ghostbur. and ghostbur hung around Friend a lot, they took care of him then, mostly.

-wilbur is an otter because orcas and salmon are fish and otters are water mammals( fish->water->otter. idk made sense with his connection to water and all.

-Techno is the strongest herbivore able to wrestle and beat dream, which is very surprising for a hog. He got that scar on his eye from the fight he had with dream. Techno has a hunch he knows exactly what's going on with dream but doesn't say anything. He prefers not tp get involved. You'd think he's feel bad for the herbivores, but he lives by "survival of the fittest" being probably raised in a very harsh environment. (or maybe he had a Louis-esque story, being bought/saved from the black market by Phil)

-Dream knows that Tommy followed him into the black market, he just let it happen, and now he holds that over him like blackmail. (cue the bullying and/or emotional manipulation exile-arc style)

That's it for now, I have a few more ideas but I don't want to make this post too long. Hope you liked it,please don't take this too seriously, this is just for fun and exploring herbivore carnivore dynamics with dream smp characters.

[dnf-fic-recs]

hii ^-^

any (preferably long but short ones will do too) completed dnf spy aus or superpower aus? or something along those lines

(it would be even better if it was from George's perspective [3rd person tho] if that's available by if not its ok)

thank you very much :)

a mixed assortment of spy and superhero/villain/misc powers fics!

Extramundane Legacies Saga by LightNS - Ongoing [Aether's Legacy]

“You’re… not afraid?” His voice was barely a peep, shy gaze half-turning away but still watching him out of the corner of his eye. His hand instinctively reached for the pendant at his chest, tips of his finger grazing the crystal and ready to grasp it, somewhat afraid of the answer that would come next.

“Why would I be afraid? You’re like the coolest person I’ve met so far! Plus-” He poked his side, and George squeaked, jumping back from the ticklish sensation. “You’re so scrawny and small. I’d never be afraid of you!”

George never wanted to be one of them. But at eight years old, he discovered he was a Psychic and he was committed into a faraway island academy for Extramundanes. Despite the difficulty of making friends when even other super-powered classmates are afraid of you, George finds a tight-knit group of best friends who aren't afraid to stand up for him.

Yet with age comes his developing abilities, and as he grapples for control, the disappearance of one of his best friends leads George and his friends on a runaway road trip to rescue him. However, they fail to realize their true adversary is the threatening power searing inside one of their own.

there’s a beautiful purpose in this broken heart by andthentheybow

mainly karlnap, side DNF

Day Seven: Fake Dating

Karl Jacobs is the only witness in a case that could make or break the saving of the entire world. Sapnap, George, and Dream are the agents assigned to protect him. They’ve got six days to get three thousand miles across the country to a secure location without blowing their covers or being caught by the people hunting them. Absolutely nothing could go wrong.

Featuring a carnival, a laundromat, chess, flowers, cassette tapes, and a long walk through a city none of them know, pretending they don’t need to have a very important conversation. And none of it necessarily in that order. There’s a long road ahead.

Heist Love by emlin001

The leader of this heist had two rules. They were clear, made for their safety and to ensure their success in stealing 1.4 billion dollars.

“No relationships.” “No real names.” Dream and 404 had already broken the first one months ago. Today, 404 planned to break the second one.

[George tells Dream his real name in the middle of a heist.]

the first move by andthentheybow

Agents Dream and 404 have been working together for more than seven years. They’ve gone through undercover missions and basic desk work, been caught in gunfights and car chases- you name it, they’ve done it. What they have not done, however, is admit their feelings for one another. Even though their go-to cover story is a happily married couple, neither of them have made the first move. But when a mission goes terribly wrong, they’re going to need each other more than ever if they want to make it out alive.

Hash by linesofcode (primdise) - Mature

“What I’m saying is that there’s no way I’m letting you in first.”

404 stares at him like he’s stupid. His resolution firm, Dream knows by now that they definitely have the same target, and they are both in a rush, but he just cannot let this man go in there first. He’s an assassin. God knows Dream doesn’t want a bullet in his lead’s head before he even gets the information that he needs. Heaving a deep sigh, 404 boldly takes a step forward towards Dream, the other trying hard not to step back. “You know what? We’re literally wasting time. Kiss me.”

“What?” Dream gapes.

He receives a roll of the eyes as a form of reply. “I said, kiss me. Pretend we’re making out, that’s the only way we can get in without them suspecting anything.“

or Dream and George, who fucking hate each other, coincidentally attend a prestigious ball together, both with the intent of murder.

van gogh out with me by moonsooms

"You - was that a pick up line?" He asks, taken back, and Dream almost laughs. "I'm about to steal a seventeen million dollar artifact, and your first instinct is to flirt with me?" "I mean, I don't know, why not," Dream smiles, despite being able to list many reasons as to why not.

(Dream, local superhero, attempts to recruit the infamous art thief that keeps slipping away. Clay, local college student, attempts not to fall in love with the waiter who knows an unnatural amount about art.)

I Can't Tell What You're Thinking (Please Tell Me What You're Thinking) by jungkooksfic

“I can’t tell what you’re thinking,” George finally says, breaking their unbearable silence. His voice was pleading, begging for clues. Dream remains silent, and for once, George absolute hates it. He hates it so much that he feels sick. “Please tell me what you’re thinking,” George whispers, his voice low. He remembered when Dream had said that to him, voice raw and vulnerable, eyes filled with all the guilt in the world. And now here George was, not at fault, yet he was still the prey of miscommunication. “I don’t know,” Dream says slowly, “what I’m thinking.”

It all happened by accident, really. Dream was supposed to pass his computer science class, not fall in love with the cute guy who sat in the front row. (The funny thing is, Dream can read minds. Literally. He can hear everyone's thoughts. Falling in love hadn’t been an option… at least, not until this perfect, British asshole decided to ruin that for him.)

Spiderinnit by diapason

Background supervillains DNF!

Tommy Soot-Watson's got enough on his plate - GCSEs to prep for, wrists that shoot spiderwebs, and the chaotic Dream Team on a mission to take him down with a deadly axe. Being honest about his problems with his family and friends can only make things more complicated. Besides, he doesn't need help from anyone.

(or, the spiderman tommy au nobody asked for but everybody needed! featuring my love for eret, wilbur being the Best Brother, and just buckets of tommy angst ending in eventual tommy love and support)

(UPDATE JAN 4TH NOW WITH TOMMY'S APPROVAL HE SAID HE WAS LIKE SPIDERMAN)

[hrteowyn]

SOCMED AUS: ONESHOT, INCORRECT QUOTES ETC.

DREAM SMP:

Patches >> Dream - where George loves Patches more than Dream, his boyfriend

Do you ever wonder what goes on in the Dream Team gc? - Dteam incorrect quote chats

Part 1 (of) asking DSMP members if you can copy their homework

Secret Admirer (Part 1)(Part 2)(Part 3)- Just an au focused on Sapnap and his admirer

Wrong Sent - Dream accidentally texting the group chat instead of George

National BFFs Day

George trying to save his dignity after getting hit by a car

STRANGER THINGS:

Fuck Word - In where, Eleven learns to cuss

WILL? - Will pranks Mike by texting him “I haven't been completely honest with you” and freak him out

Dollars - an incorrect quote about dollars

THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY:

Five Hargreeves as your boyfriend be like

Gaslighting my ex-boyfriend into thinking we never broke up

Unrequited Crush - Where Five sees you only as his best friend and nothing more

Five trying to console you after a fight

OTHERS ARE COMING SOON

[oasislake76]

I’m thinking about a mix of my Adam’s family + the Protege!Tommy au I’ve been bing reading lately.

Like Dream isn’t possessed by Nightmare and is a fairly young God. Only 21, which is young and especially Royalty which means he’s the youngest child and grandchild, he doesn’t know better and Dream likes knowing. He strives to have a complete family and goes a bit possessive when Wilbur and Techno show up on his server. Later followed by Phil.

Now the reason why Dream knows those three were because they were originally a part of his family while growing up. Phil and Sky, his Pa, were ‘married’ in a sense since Mumza is still a part of this Au. Wilbur was Phil and Kristens son but seen as a son by Sky as well. Techno was adopted by Sky and Phil. but before that Sky had Dream with Puffy, the normal backstory I have for Dream yada yada.

Something makes Phil part with Sky and take Techno and Wilbur with him. Kristen doesn’t know what happened, just out of loop with the God, and stays down from her Realm to help take care of Dream. who’s just old enough to start remember fully and just in time for his magic, freakishly strong for a supposed Demi, to start lashing out with his feelings. With the lose of Wilbur and Techno, leaving Dream without anyone around his age since Malachi and Levin are way to old to play with him, Dream becomes a mother hen to his friends.

All through out eight grade through the Admin Academy he mother hens everyone. Newly fresh students down to newly graduated Admins. Even older Admins that run their own server get momed by him every now and then when they cross path’s. This feeds into his need for a full family, he just wants siblings dammit, but stamps it down.

It isn’t until everything starts to go haywire in his server and everyone subconsciously starts to hang up on Tommy does Dream really ‘snap’. Taking Tommy out and kinda force adopting him into the family. Tommy’s absolutely surprised by the switch up from angry and manipulative Dream to “I swear to god if you don’t finish your coke I’ll shove it down your throat” Mama Bear. Better yet when Sky inevitably allows Dream, he really has no say since Dream adopted like over thousands of kids through this schooling, and doesn’t think Tommy’s any different.

Not until he spots Dream and Tommy out in the castle’s pastures. Watching as Dream help hoists Tommy onto one of the bigger war horses and teach the younger boy how to steer and command. Encoring and smiling - and when did he take off his mask around people he ‘adopted’? - and wheezing. Leaving the blonde for just a moment to hop on another one, a bigger one then Tommy’s, and gently lead the boy and two animals out to a trail. Sticking close by and smiling down when Tommy let out a squeal when his horse picked up speed.

Dream wasn’t one not to wear his mask students and teachers. Even his best friends, Sapnap and George, had only ever seen the smiling mask. Nothing ever above the bottom lip at most. A tick Dream had pulled from somewhere and one Sky wasn’t going to push his son out of. So seeing him trot alongside the other blonde boy, maskless with his hair in a low pony and freckles for the world to see, it wiggles something inside Sky’s chest.

Soon he’s talking to Tommy more. Slowly getting to know him because he’s staying with them and Dream always butts in when someone ask’s Tommy about his home. A clear indication that this boy is staying and that Dream will fight anyone about it. Sky’s own heart hasn’t healed that much from the loss of Wilbur and Technoblade so Tommy, loud sarcastic cursing Tommy, was almost like a balm.

Watching him and Dream wrestle in the gym or race around the tracks out in the back by the tennis courts made the King smile. The more Tommy stayed the more he brightened up the castle as a whole. Flowers bloomed a week where he sat and animals just seemed a bit happier when he’s around. Blue eyes bright and just as thirsty for knowledge like Dream was his age. Books upon books read and if the pair aren’t outside their in the library. If not in the library then their in the kitchen. Dream desperately trying to teach Tommy how to cook even simple meals and can only sigh and shake his head fondly when Tommy burnt yet another dish.

He even has his own emote mask now like Dream. It’s resting face is a frown while Dream’s is a smile and he only really wears it outside of the castle ground. Getting shy around all of Dream’s rowdy friends. It’s just not Sky who’s platonically falling for the blonde.

Aphmau ended up making a red and white cape for the boy. Slightly furry around the collar and definitely enough to drown him in soft fabric. The edges looked clawed at but were made that way, more like a giant shawl than anything. Seto made a pendant kind of like Sky’s. It holds many uses like a compass to find the nearest Admin when he’s lost or even acts up like a back up communicator/chat page if he lost his device. Sparklez made an enchanted metal crown of flowers that gave him almost the same amount of armor protection as iron.

Just... I think I might call this Little Bother!au



[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

Ok, basics of Soul Eater. This is a world where people can be born with the ability to transform into magical weapons, known as Demon weapons. They can come to this school called the DWMA (Death Weapon Meister Academy) and find a partner who’s able to wield them, called a meister. If their soul wavelengths are compatible, they’ll become a pair. These weapon-meister pairs are then tasked with going out into the world and fighting off kishin eggs, which are people who have strayed onto the path of evil by eating human souls. If they aren’t hunted down and eliminated, they will eventually form into a kishin – a creature of pure madness that would destroy the world.

There are also Witches, beings of magic who are kind of like a third party – some want the kishin to be revived because it causes chaos, but others are chill and actually on the side of the DWMA. Witches are important because their souls are the key to a Demon weapon awakening their true form, and gaining extra powers. Defeating a witch and consuming their soul makes the weapon into a Death Scythe, a weapon powerful enough to be wielded by Death himself, the god of the world.

For my AU, I’m just taking the premise of the world and replacing the characters with DSMP/MCYT characters, so I won’t explain much there. Great show, would recommend highly, it’s on Netflix, read the manga as well if you’re disappointed by the ending of the anime.

Anyways, I’d like to use more MCYT characters than just DSMP peeps, like some Hermitcraft folks, but I know nothing about them really, so I just have DSMP stuff for now.

Phil is Death, because I can’t help but make him immortal in every AU I make. He’s the one who determines who has started to go down the path of the kishin and makes the order for them to be taken out. (Sounds kinda intense, but in this universe souls of people like this actually look different to healthy human souls).

Dream and George are a meister-weapon pair. George is a Demon Axe, and they are classified as a Three-Star pair (the highest ranking a meister can achieve, and second only to being a Death Scythe for a weapon.)

Techno is also a three-star meister, although his situation is a little different. He doesn’t wield a Demon weapon, but instead he wields a legendary sword called Harpe, which is a shapeshifting weapon that can take different forms. (So, in the series, they have Excalibur, who is this really powerful sword that anyone is compatible with, wavelength wise, but he himself is really freaking annoying so nobody can stand using him as a partner. I wanted to give Techno something different, but I wanted to tie in his connection with Greek mythology, so I created my own legendary weapon. Harpe is Perseus’s sword in the mythology, what he used to decapitate Medusa. Harpe is the same as Excalibur in that it can match anyone’s wavelength, but instead of just being annoying like Excalibur, Harpe allows Techno to hear the voices of the dead. Wherever he goes, there are people who speak to him, and usually it’s just idle chatter and he pretends he can’t hear them, but they seem to know that he can because he always seems to attract them wherever he goes.) Harpe usually takes the form of a sword, but it can also become a trident, a spear, and a pickaxe.

Then there are the two-star pairs, who are a level above the regular students and able to take on more dangerous missions. There’s Sapnap and his two weapons Karl and Quackity, who wield fire and water/ice (not sure yet) respectively. Sapnap and Karl were partners first, before Quackity came to the school, and he was a menace. Sapnap is a very powerful meister, but also very destructive due to his partner being fire and him not knowing how to hold back sometimes. When Quackity became a student and the teachers learned that he was a water weapon, he was begged to partner with them to try and reduce the amount of damage Sap does on lessons, and generally chill them out. Of course, the teachers didn’t account for Quackity being just as chaotic, if not more, than his partners, and thus begun the most chaotic trio at the school.

Bad and Skeppy are partners, and originally I was gonna have Skeppy as the meister with a reluctant Bad who gets pulled into Skeppy’s pranks, but then I remembered that IRL!Bad is a badass who throws knives and shoots guns and stuff, so I changed it so Bad’s the meister and Skeppy’s his knife weapon. Bad still gets dragged around with Skeppy’s shenanigans though.

Punz and Ant are partners, mostly because I needed them to be in the AU somehow and they both needed a partner. Honestly don’t know much about either of them, and I don’t know what kind of weapon Ant is, but they’re strong enough to be two-star.

Then there are the one-star meisters, which is the ranking all students start as. You have Tubbo and Tommy, Wilbur and Fundy, Niki and Jack, Puffy and HBomb, and Purpled and Hannah(hannahxxrose).

To the surprise of most people who meet them, Tubbo is actually the meister in their pair. Which makes it very funny when Tommy’s being his usual bombastic, irritating self and picks a fight with another pair who they may not know, and when they get ready to fight Tommy calls over this innocent looking kid and starts glowing in his transformation, becoming a crossbow that can shoot explosive shots (like a firework crossbow).

Fundy is an interesting case, because he is actually a Witch (using the fact that Fundy’s character on the SMP is ftm trans, and because witches in this world are animal-themed and it just made too much sense with his fox connection. He has ears that he hides with a hat and a tail that he hides.) He’s partnered with Wilbur, who is a set of oversized gauntlets that have claws at the end. Yes, he gets furry jokes, no, he’s not amused, but he deals.

Niki and Jack are the weapon I’m probably most excited about. Jack can transform into a big shield, Steven Universe style, but it also has another ability. Niki can strike it with a mallet in different ways, and the sound that emanates from it has a different affect on her enemies/their attacks. She can ring it so that it resonates at a frequency that can break glass, can stun her enemies, etc. A lot of people think she’s weak or not as good as others because her weapon is defensive, but she just smiles and knows that if they ever see her fight, they’ll think differently.

Puffy and HBomb is half a joke, but also serious. HBomb is some sort of spiked whip/lasso, but many people joke that he’s a glorified fishing rod because Puffy once used him for that and he never lived it down. (Because Puffy’s a captain, but also because HBomb has his podcast and it just seemed to fit). Puffy is also a sheep witch, and bonds with Fundy over it since nobody else at school knows about their heritage (given that Witches are usually an enemy of the DWMA)

Purpled and Hannah, I will admit, are only a pair because they’re both bedwars players and it seemed appropriate? No idea what kind of weapon Hannah would be though.

Real quick, here are some other character roles. Ponk is the school nurse, Sam is a technician who is supposedly working to make sure the school is functioning, maintaining the old pipes and stuff, but he has a lot of secret work that Death has him do on the side of that. Alyssa and Callahan are a Death Scythe pair (Alyssa as a meister) who work on another continent and aren’t ever around, cause I thought it would be funny.

Ranboo is a special case of being his own meister? If anyone reading knows the series, he’s basically like Crona. But instead of madness from the black blood, it’s his enderwalk state that he eventually gets snapped out of in an epic battle with Tommy/Tubbo. He has two non-demon weapon pickaxes that he fights with, as well as the enderman powers from the SMP, and some mild telepathy.

In terms of other MCYT, I don’t know much about the hermits but most seem like they would be good teachers? The only one I was told had to be a meister was Falsesymmetry, because she’s a pvp god. And her weapon is Rendog, because I was told he’s supportive of her and also goes feral if needed? So there’s that. Ren is a transforming weapon, it’s a bow that can disconnect at the middle and become two swords connected by a magic chain that can extend as far as needed.

I have no idea what to do with Eret or Schlatt, they feel like they should have important roles but the “corrupt politician” or “the traitor who became king” bits don’t work super well in this universe. Well, traitor does, but I also love Eret and want to give them a good ending. And I could easily use Schlatt’s normal video persona rather than his SMP character, because that would be kinda funny and not something I see as often. - 🐉

Oooooooh. This is super interesting. This is super interesting. I really love this concept already!

[enderspawn]

dream smp asagao au, aka the very specific high school au

also aka the post thats very self indulgent for me and maybe 3 other people.

in short: its a dsmp high school au based on the game asagao academy, where everyone is part of a gaming club and compete against one another in tournaments. more in depth info about the AU/Asagao itself, as well as more info about the plot and roles of the AU itself.

Asagao Academy Basics

So to start, let’s cover the basics: what is Asagao Academy. ….well, an old Youtuber dating sim game (which, despite unfortunately including some fairly questionable CCs, IS still really good and well written and I recommend it) But what is it for AU purposes?

Asagao Academy is a highly elite world-wide boarding school set in Japan for those who are either rich enough to afford it, or those skilled enough to get scholarships. Within the game, there are two main clubs: Normal Boots and Hidden Block. They’re both gaming clubs, and joining is seen as super exclusive since they’re ALSO the most popular people in the school.

The two clubs compete with each other in various tournament events with specific categories. For example: Satch (from NB) and Jimmy (from HB) both compete in the “Tech and Invention” category, where they have to create/invent something related to gaming and have it judged at the event like a science fair. Meanwhile, Jared (from NB) and Wallid (from HB) both compete in “Dance” aka DDR and the person with the highest score wins.

The other categories featured in game include: Puzzle games (like Bejeweled or Tetris), Video Game Trivia, Pinball, Retro Platformers, a three-person fighting game, and 100% completion speedruns. So tldr; the categories can be kind of fiddled with and be whatever you want them to be, because even the original ones are pretty wack.

Also, there’s no rules against competing in multiple categories— in fact, most of the HB members in game do! It’s more about balancing time and practicing for them alongside school and other activities.

The winner of the competition is the team/competitor(s) with the most total wins.

Another thing to note: despite competing as clubs, they’re all actually pretty good friends. It’s all lighthearted and fun in the end, hell the leader of the opposing club even helps the main character join the main club just because he wants a decent challenge.

Speaking of… the main character! Hana Mizuno! I don’t have any current plans to include her in this AU (a la new dating routes), but I wanted to mention her for a few reasons.

For the main reason: her hair. Even as soon as she shows up, Mai (her best friend and roommate, who can break the 4th wall) immediately calls her out for her hair for looking like a main character which as we learn… isn’t an exaggeration. She’s literally a born protagonist, thus being born with naturally pink hair and a tragic backstory. Not only that, but other people are also born protagonists with pink hair as well— she isn’t an exception.

About the AU -- Revolution Era

A few things to note: in this au, when I first drafted it I… wasn’t looking to include 20+ people. I cut a lot of characters, but instead working with the idea that they’re still THERE, they just… don’t compete? Either they aren’t in the club and are just friends with the members, or they’re members who just don’t compete professionally. It’s nothing personal against those CCs and tbh as times goes they may get added more, but for now they’re just in the BG vibin.

It covers a really basic retelling of s1 for most of the planned au. It starts with One Club: the Dream Team. Members include: Dream (sophomore), Sapnap (sophomore), George (junior), Wilbur (junior), Eret (junior), and Fundy (freshman).

For reasons, possibly just as a goof or spite towards their American counterparts, Wilbur declares independence from the Dream Team and makes his OWN gaming club: L’Manberg. He takes Eret (a close friend from his grade) and Fundy (the freshman he immediately adopted) with him, causing the two teams to be 3v3.

But Wilbur’s got a dastardly surprise up his sleeve: TOMMY, HIS YOUNGER BROTHER (bc I am nothing if not a dedicated crimebros stan), AND TUBBO. They’re both too young to actually attend Asagao yet, but theres no age rules in the actual competitions so its fair play. They’re Wilbur’s secret weapon. After all, a 5v3 where the team with the most wins wins the competition? That’s a massive advantage.

… we all know how this goes though don’t we. Wilbur’s day be so fine, then BOOM, Eret betrayal 😔

In this case Eret feels it’s a LITTLE unfair to blindside them like that, plus Dream promised to make him the Leader of the Dream Team and, yknow, that kind of stuff DOES look good on resumes, so…

TLDR; Eret rejoins the Dream Team crew, as well as informing them of Wilbur’s plan with including Tommy and Tubbo and becomes leader. They’re still letting Dream and Co. basically actually do the leading, they don’t care that much, the title is just nice. L’Manberg cusses her out and promises to hold a grudge, but it’s all in good fun. After all, they’re just teens goofing around and playing. The clubs are again 4v4.

Dream tells the L’Manberg club that they can separate, sure… under one condition. They have to win the competition. If they lose, they have to rejoin the Dream Team club.

L’Manberg accepts, but come competition day… they lose. Tommy outright challenges Dream post awards to a speedrun competition for L’Manberg instead. …which Dream professionally competes in, and Tommy DOESN’T.

He loses, but he puts up a good fight despite having little to no actual practice put in, so Dream “grants” L’Manberg their “Independence”. (In this au, instead of being like… weirdly obsessive over Tommy, it’s a lot more “he sees himself in Tommy and wants to support/mentor him” and a “friendly rivalry” kind of deal bc its a damn HIGH SCHOOL AU)

So L’Manberg can be it’s own club! …Next year, when Tommy and Tubbo actually attend, since Wilbur and Fundy aren’t allowed a two person club.

About the AU -- Election Era

SO time skip! Congrats, everything up to now has been BACKSTORY. It’s now the next school year, with two main clubs (I’ve tried to keep them fairly balanced, which is why not all CCs are featured, sorry!)

Dream Team club:

Dream - junior

George - senior

Sapnap - junior

Eret - senior

Punz - junior

BBH - senior

Awesamdude - junior

Ponk - junior

L’Manberg club:

Wilbur - senior

Tommy - freshman

Tubbo - freshman

Fundy - sophomore

Schlatt - senior

Quackity - junior

Niki - sophomore

Jack - sophomore

(Also fun fact! Their grades are loosely based on the CCs actual ages! …Except Fundy, who got Baby-fied to fit the “Wilbur’s Kid” joke, and Eret bc it fit better to be the same age as Wilbur I thought. Oops HEKANDNSN)

So, for whatever Reason (listen this was an au I made in like one night when plagued with brainrot, it’s not all figured out), L’Manberg holds an election. Maybe it’s related to Wilbur wanting L’Manberg to be meaningfully different from Dream Team, maybe it’s a joke, idk!

…. SOMEHOW, Schlatt wins. Which ticks off Wilbur a lot. It’s his damn club, and the whole point was to avoid Americans, tf?? The two start to feud a lot and it threatens to split the club entirely via ppl taking sides. Worse, it means people aren’t practicing for the competition.

All while this is happening, there’s a new intrigue building. Dream catches word of an infamous player in the area, someone known to win entire competitions against teams of people all by HIMSELF. A man with bright bubblegum pink hair called Technoblade. That’s right, literal universe-assigned protagonist Techno. If Dream could enlist him, there’s no doubt in hell they’d be able to beat L’Manberg.

L’Manberg hears of him too and works to try and enlist him as well, so he basically gets courted by both clubs trying to get him to play for them to mixed results. He’s pretty chill vibin by himself, so what’s in it for him? (….I don’t know, remember how this is a WIP au I worked on once?)

Eventually, a teacher named Phil (who’s been the honorary sponsor of the L’Manberg club) gets pissed at Schlatt and Wilbur’s fighting and bans both from competing (aka this AUs version of them dying). Which fucking SUCKS for L’Manberg. They’re now going 6v8 with a wildcard player who’s undeclared on which side he’ll join, if at all.

… honestly, that’s as far as I got. Theoretically, Techno joins L’Manberg to reflect Pogtopia and they win. I never had plans to go into s2 due to its darker theme, but there are definitely changes that could (and might?) be made for the s1 plot just so it flows better.

I already had to shift Wil and Schkatt’s “deaths” to fit, unless I were to have them LITERALLY make a new club. Maybe Schlatt uses his power as Club President to make them work with Dream Team (to the point it basically merges the clubs). Sure, they might be guaranteed to win now but it removes the competition and fun as well as the spirit of OG L’Manberg. So then Wilbur rebels and makes his own club AGAIN, calling it Pogtopia with the intent to get L’Manberg back. Then Techno, intrigued with this group of like 2-3 ppl going against a team of like 13ish people, decides to join them. Idk! Alternative possible plot based more closely on s1 I guess!

I’m gonna add a list of characters in full with their age, their club, and what they compete in (if it’s already brainstormed, most ppl are unknown) below

Character List

dream (DT) - junior - speedrunning

george (DT) - senior - coding/tech and invention

sapnap (DT)- junior -

eret (DT) - senior -

wilbur (LM) - senior - rhythm game/guitar hero-esque

tommy (LM) - freshman - (possibly pick up speed running during election arc?)

tubbo (LM) - freshman - chess

fundy (LM) - sophomore - coding/tech and invention

schlatt (LM) - senior - he never actually declares what he plans to play and then gets banned anyway, aka no game kekw

quackity (LM)- junior - dance

niki (LM) - sophomore -

jack (LM) - sophomore-

punz (DT) - junior -

bbh (DT) - senior -

awesamdude (DT) - junior -

ponk (DT) - junior

technoblade (SOLO) - junior - multiple categories

FINAL BIT

here’s some scraps for ppl who know Asagao already as well as small bits I didn’t bother to write up any further

- Karl, much like Mai, is ALSO aware of the 4th wall and has time travel powers because of it.

- Purpled (undecided if he’s a solo player like Techno or has his own team he competes with that’s not a formal club) plays Literally Bedwars in competitions

- Callahan is the Dream Team club sponsor, Phil is L’Manberg’s club sponsor

- Karlnapity is real and canon bc I say so

- both for balance/laziness, every person only competes in one category. also bc it makes Techno that much more Protagonist-y that he does

- I made this AU in like February man idk I’m just vibin

- Fuck I never even included Ranboo huh