#(I will probably come edit this again one day because it is First Drafty)

[eternalstrigoii]

I'd really like an Udo x reader, please! He deserves more love!

Udo x human!Reader with a heavy dose of pining and the promise that Udo and Guin are getting a full-fledged fic.

                                        Your mother was going to have to help you straighten your hair again soon.

Technically, she didn’t have to. You were a grown woman; you could do it by yourself, though it would be far easier to ensure every last strand was as smooth as it ought to be when you had help. Your mother’s help. No one else had ever touched your hair, and rightfully so, in your opinion (until earlier that day). Until Udo reached out, as though instinctively, and brushed back your hair from the shell of your ear. The temperance of his skin was not what jolted you into alertness – though you had not corrected him when he believed it to be – but the gentility of his touch.

It put all manner of thoughts in your head that had no business being there.

You allowed your brush to pause mid-stroke. It was perfectly natural to be lonely. Richard had been gone for nearly a year; the love of your family was unconditional, infallible, and always present to ward off the worst of your yearnings, but it was not the same as having your hand held by someone who loved you. Watching a gaggle of children run throw a meadow of wildflowers, your son among them, and feel at home beside the person at your side. You had only known Udo for a short time, but his daughter was your son’s best friend; you knew him to be a good father, a responsible and devoted caregiver, willing and able to care for children who were not his own.

You just couldn’t decide if you wanted him to love you.

Or, worse still, if you could even acknowledge your feelings in return.

You did not hear the breath of your bedroom door opening, nor the brush of Udo’s wings against the frame as he leaned in to tell you, “The children are asleep.”

You startled. Dropping your brush, you made sure your dressing gown was closed over your nightdress – it was one thing to sit around thinking about him, another entirely to sit in your bedroom, practically bare, when he was a guest in your home.

“I am so sorry,” you began, standing from the bench you’d set before your dressing-table.

The corners of his lips quirked, but did not fully upturn. “You did not hear me?”

“No.” And you should not have gone about dressing for bed until he’d left. What kind of a fool were you? “I should’ve. I don’t know why I’d forgotten you were here—”

“Guinevere,” he cut you off gently, “you are allowed to be comfortable in your own home.”

No, you admitted by way of breathing out rather harshly, you were not. There were standards – rules of propriety, let alone laws of etiquette that you’d miraculously failed to adhere to. A small handful of months under new reign, peace and prosperity and political alliances with entirely new races of fey and you’d forgotten a lifetime of court lessons (many of which had been engrained in shame under Queen Ingrith’s perpetual disapproval). You were not allowed to undress while a male acquaintance resided in your home unless you were chaperoned, which you were most certainly not. Never mind entertain thoughts of courtship with said male acquaintance. Not in the position you were in.

“Aspen and Rojan decided to stay in Arthur’s room. Violet, Dawn and Aya will sleep in your mother’s.” It was only fair, as six children could hardly be asked to share one bed.

You nodded, though the result of that conclusion did not strike you fully until Udo opened the door a bit more as if to enter.

The children occupied every other bed in your home. Which left him with nowhere else to sleep but in your room, with you.

There were alternatives, of course. You could politely relinquish your bed and go sleep with the girls, if there was room. He was your guest; courtesy dictated that you would sleep on the floor if that was what you must do in order to make your guests comfortable, regardless of whether or not said guest understood or acknowledged the social rules that had been engrained into you since childhood.

“Is the front door bolted?” you asked, though the smallness of your voice betrayed you. A moment’s extra time would not buy you much in the way of thought, but—

“It is,” he replied.

Damn. Maybe he knew more than you gave him credit for.

Maybe you shouldn’t have had that thought, lest you start entertaining the idea that the children were filling up every bed in the house and Udo knew what sharing a bed with you would mean to an observant, human outsider. Like your mother, if she returned from the palace earlier tomorrow than she said she would.

“The candles are extinguished,” he left the door open, though, which you could not bring yourself to protest. If the children needed you, it was the easiest way for them to reach you, but it also afforded some sense of lacking privacy – some persistent reminder that you were not hiding away in a love-nest somewhere, and you could be walked in upon at any time, so there was no reason to entertain the idea of being held by him while you slept. Caressing the length of one of his long feathers to see if they were really as soft as they looked. No, you absolutely could not do that.

“Except yours.”

The blue of his eyes was as clear and bright as the winter’s midday sky. . It was not the first time they’d caused you to lose your train of thought (nor the softness in his angular features or the grace in his approach). He joined you, only a pace away from the wool blankets that still lingered atop your bed for those cold, late-spring nights.

What would it feel like to be pressed against him under them?

“My what?”

His bright eyes glimmered. Surely, your voice must’ve betrayed you.

Your face warmed. You had to resist the impulse to pull your sleeves lower so you could fuss with the loose thread on your inner sleeve – it was not ladylike to pull at your clothing, or divert your gaze when someone spoke to you.

“Your candle.” His wing extended as though he gestured with the patterned end of his long feathers.

Yes. That would make sense. If he had truly put everyone to bed and extinguished the other candles – even checked the door to ensure your safety – your candle would be the last one to remain lit, would it not?

“Oh.” Very eloquent. You could almost feel the sting of a silver teaspoon across your knuckles.

“Are you ready to sleep?” He lowered his head ever so slightly toward you. Though some part of you knew that he would be searching your eyes for a response (or, perhaps because of it), yours lifted to the points of his horns, as though expecting them to lower near enough to touch the top of your own head. Never mind that they were another head above the advantage in height he already had.

“I suppose.” You tore your eyes away. Fetched your brush off the dressing table and placed it, bristles-down, in one of the topmost drawers of your chest-of-drawers. Tomorrow’s gown awaited you on the back of your dressing screen, and though it did not necessarily please you to imagine waking early to ensure you had time enough to dress before he joined you, you supposed it was only one morning. Perhaps, after sleeping, tomorrow would not be as awkward as it seemed tonight.

Udo gestured for you to take to your bed. He must’ve wanted you to do as you always did, though he must’ve known you deliberately would not; the opposite side of the bed was your usual sleeping-area, and you made sure to remain as near to the edge as comfortably possible lest he not have enough room for himself and his wings. (Surely, he wouldn’t, but you could no more control that than you could control the lack of adequate sleeping space for two adults and six children in a house meant for three.)

He extinguished the candle with a soft breath.

Yet, even in the darkness of a house at night, you saw the whiteness of his robes. The brightness of his hair. You watched him unwind his topmost layer from around his wings, and relieve himself of it in a folded square like the cloak of a formal coat. It was placed gingerly upon your dressing-table, as though he was uncertain as to whether or not it would be allowed there.

You had the nagging feeling he knew you could still see him.

His underclothes fit to his body more closely than you imagined they might.

You had no business thinking about his underclothes. Even if they were not underclothes in the sense you knew underclothes to be. Clothes under a coat. That kind of underclothes, not….Lord in Heaven, do not lie there wondering if he wears underclothes beneath what he already has on.

He drew his wings close to him before he lay down. He did not draw back the wool blanket that you had crawled beneath, and you did not realize he might see the flicker of unwarranted hurt that crossed your face.

“Would you like a blanket of your own?” you murmured.

“No.” He settled atop his wings, flexing them only a bit, and interlaced his hands carefully atop his stomach. “Thank you. This is a much warmer climate than my own.”

Oh. Of course.

Everything was perfectly reasonable, in the end. You shared a bed because there was no other reasonable alternative. Your children were friends, nothing more, and you often participated in such awkward exchanges because you were still culturally uncertain with one another, nothing more.

You had to force yourself to turn away. “Goodnight, Udo.”

You could only hide so much from someone who lay beside you. Udo watched the tension in your shoulders ease. Listened to your breath begin to deepen. Nervous as you were, the weight of his body beside yours did not disrupt your peace. In fact, he waited until he believed you were past the cusp of sleep to murmur, as if he believed you would not hear, “Goodnight, Guinevere.”

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

Tag list: @thesirenswolf @summitofdreams @birdsthough @thesherlockedheart @billywig-on-baker-street @madlenfireknight @squishy-jellyfish @of-the-moors @deathonyourtongue @shinva @quaint-and-curious-being @faro-en-la-distancia @slasherwife @kindawitchyhellabitchy @swim-reaper @mor-ranr @thetempleofthemasaigoddess @boxxyass @everydreamtilldawn

#Udo x Reader #Maleficent: Mistress of Evil #Dark Fey #Udo Maleficent #Maleficent Udo #No Beta We Die Like Men #(I will probably come edit this again one day because it is First Drafty)

[athina-blaine]

MoMM Chapter 4 - The Storm, Part 1 (Preview #2)

(Note: this is not the finalized draft; anything featured is subject to edits or deletion!)

The Storm, Part 1 (Preview #1)

Martin lurched upright, sucking painful gasps through his aching teeth,  his sleep shirt sticking to his sweaty skin. No light permeated the  windows— he may as well have been in a tomb, for all that he could see.  

Jon was out there somewhere. Alone. As was his mother.

I’m coming back to you. I’ll find a way out of here. I’m doing everything I can–

Liar.

Martin curled up onto his side, wrapping trembling arms around himself. Even though there was no one else to hear him, no one to stifle himself for, he drove his teeth into his lip until his mouth filled with the dull taste of copper.

A knock startled Martin from his troubled doze. A lone ray of light had managed to break through the storm, cutting through the lingering shadows of his room. The winds shrieked. The snow roiled and bellowed and pounded the windows. The white wall stood firm.

Nothing had changed. Martin curled in on himself, fighting the urge to tug at the wisps of his hair as his heart thundered against his ribs.

We share tea every morning and dinner every night. He’s back. We’re talking. I’m not lonely. I am not lonely.

So why had nothing changed? What was he doing wrong?

“Martin?”

Martin jumped. Jon’s face was peeking out from behind the door, and when their eyes met, he held up two cups of tea.

Martin had overslept.

“Shit,” he breathed, moving to scramble out of bed. “I’m so sorry, I-”

“Remain where you are, please.”

Head buzzing with exhaustion and grief, Martin settled back down. No point pitching a fit now when he’d probably just tip over. Jon would probably just push him back down again.

“You seem unwell,” Jon said as he sat at Martin’s feet, handing him his cup. Martin’s reflection stared up at him from the hot, dark liquid, blurred and unfathomable. 

“I look that bad, then?”

“You look as if you slept poorly, yes. Maybe a change of pillows is in order?”

“No, no, it’s fine. It’s just ... one of those nights, I guess.” He sipped at his tea, desperate to leech any glimmer of warmth and comfort offered to him. And yet, the jasmine tasted acrid in his mouth.

Why are you lounging about like this, sucking on tea? a voice whispered. You should be figuring out a way out of here. There must be a way, and you need to find it.

“So,” Martin said. “Still no change in this storm, then, huh?”

“… That would appear to be the case, yes.”

“Yeah. I just, it seemed like …” Martin swirled the tea until the liquid nearly sloshed over the rim. “I mean, now that we’re talking again and everything, I assumed things would … get better?”

Cup half raised to his lips, Jon paused, his eyes unreadable. “You … assumed if we resumed communication, the storm would clear?”

Well, when Jon said it like that, the whole thing sounded silly. Martin’s cheeks heated. “I mean, this is all because of that one, isn’t it?” His hands tightened on the cup. “The Lonely? That’s what’s causing this, right?”

“I don’t remember insinuating as much.”

“What else could it be, though?”

Jon’s thumb traced the handle of his cup, silent, and Martin took that as his answer.

“So, we’re talking again, yeah? So shouldn’t it just … go?”

“I couldn’t tell you how the entities choose to manifest themselves,” Jon said, a new, hard edge threading his words. “To act like I could would be deceitful. I’m sorry to say, but I don’t think your plan will come to fruition.”

Martin’s chest panged at his tone. Plan? It hadn’t been a plan; that made it sound like Martin was … using Jon in some way. Martin had merely thought it was a bygone conclusion. And why wouldn’t it be? Want to get rid of an entity of loneliness keeping you trapped somewhere? Spend more time chatting up your beautiful host! Why wouldn’t that sort of logic work?

But of course it hadn’t been that simple. He was a fool for thinking it could be.

He just wanted Jon to give him an answer. To tell him to have hope, to tell him it was okay to have hope, despite everything terrible about their situation. He just wanted him to understand, and Martin was running out of time.

“Today’s the day,” Martin said, desperation thick on his tongue. “When I’d send my letter back to my Mum. I meant to tell you that before, but I … I don’t know. I guess I didn’t want to jinx it or something.”

Jon pressed his lips together, and his eyes were so sad and pitying that Martin wanted to be sick. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s not your fault. I should have done something before now. Made a plan or …” Martin’s eyes returned to the safe murkiness of his tea. “But instead I’ve just been sitting around here and …” -drinking tea, reading useless books, making moon eyes at- “Do you think anyone would have told her by now? That I’m gone?”

“I-”

“No, God, why would you know a thing like that? Sorry, I just …” Martin sucked in a sharp breath, bottom lip wobbling. “I can’t decide which is worse; if someone’s told her already, or if she’'ll just be stuck wondering what happened to me.”

Christ, stop. This whining was only making Jon shift uncomfortably in his seat. But the image of his mother, alone in a too-small cottage she hated, that was too drafty and smelled like damp, waiting for his letter to arrive in the post- waiting, and waiting, and waiting-

“I should have been doing more. What was I even thinking? I thought things would just work out and I’ve just been sitting here-”

“You can hardly be expected to know-”

“I could have tried in the first place,” Martin said, aware his voice was creeping in volume and helpless to stop it.

And then, it hit him. 

“What if I tried just ... leaving?"

“… I beg your pardon?”

A burst of impassioned energy welled up in his chest, chasing away the chilling emptiness. “What if I tried just leaving? Muscling my way through the storm?”

Confused laughter escaped Jon’s lips, trailing away under the hard weight of Martin’s stare. A crease diveted Jon’s eyebrows. “Martin, t-that ... That would be absurd-”

But Martin wasn’t listening, adrenaline sweeping through his limbs until he thought he could run. Of course. Why hadn’t he thought of that? That was a plan. “I could do it. The storm doesn’t have to be gone and so long as I’m dressed for it- If I leave now, I could make it to the post office before-”

“Are you hearing to yourself right now?” The ferocity of Jon’s tone snapped Martin out of his racing thoughts. “The only thing you’ll accomplish is getting lost. You don’t know the way, and you’ll freeze before you get anywhere useful. Martin, please, I understand your situation is-”

“You don’t.”

The sharp words lingered heavy. Jon pulled away, eyes wide, but Martin didn’t retract, or let himself feel guilty about his sudden volume. Jon needed to know; he needed to understand this was important. Important enough to try anything.

Taking a deep breath, a touch of steel hardened Jon’s jaw once more. “Then what of Phillipa, hm? Have you even considered her well being in this grand plan of yours? You’d force her through this blizzard carrying you on her back?”

Martin’s stomach sank, guilt twisting in such fierce knots that his anger was strangled in its own crib. No. No, he hadn’t considered Phillipa in this slapdash plan of his. She’d never make it through the storm, no matter how careful Martin was.

But without her, Martin didn’t stand a chance.

This is what happens, the voice said, louder now, when you get complacent.

Something brushed his arm. Martin flinched, but Jon’s expression remained steady and calm; it almost made Martin angrier, the sore, wounded cavity in his chest desperate to snap and argue until they were gasping for breath. So long as they argued, Martin still had a chance to be right- there was a way out of here they just weren’t seeing, and they could figure it out together if they just kept-

“It’s not your fault,” Jon said, and the shame that swept over Martin nearly choked him. He drained the last of his cup, trying to collect himself. The tea had gone cold.

“Thank you for the tea,” he said. Jon stretched out his hand for Martin’s cup, their fingers brushing, and Martin had to beat back a shiver. “I … I think I'm going to lie down for a little while. If that’s okay. Probably won’t be up for cleaning out the study later.”

“Martin, please, I’d hardly expect you to clean. Take your time.”

There was no judgment in his tone, no sneer to his lips, even with how brusque his words were. Of course Jon would understand. He’d understand how Martin was feeling better than anyone. Trapped. Helpless. 

And Martin had gone and yelled at him for it.

Curling up under the sheets, Martin let the shrieking wind carry him back to a troubled sleep.

#tha magnus archives #tma #jonmartin #fanfiction #fic #preview #momm #starting to feel kinda sorta good with how everything's falling together #still so much work to do AGH #everyone be extra nice to be please ;w;

[retvenkos]

“does this treasure map lead to your heart?”

requested

OKAY, FRIENDS, I HOPE YOU ARE READY TO BE FRIENDS WITH OUR NATIONAL TREASURE, RILEY POOLE, AND BE AN AUTHOR, BECAUSE THAT CUTENESS HAS TO INCLUDE...

you and riley are probably long time friends

i’m talking junior high, when riley had nerdy glasses and braces

he was always a nerd and nothing’s really changed, tbh

you two were always good friends, and you just never really drifted apart like others.

you always seemed to see him everywhere - the grocery store, the coffee shop (that a cute au, oops), the library...

you guys would do that awkward thing where you stop what you’re doing and talk for like, 20 minutes anytime you run into each other, until the other gets a phone call or something

until you got the courage to ask him if he wants to meet up for breakfast, sometime

“i mean, i’ll probably just run into you when i get to the diner anyway, might as well schedule it so we can hang out longer, right?”

“yeah.. yeah, no i agree.”

so the two of you meet up

and you get to talking, and you find out he’s working a desk job

and you tell him you’re an author, and a bit of an editor on the side

and you know he wants to read your books - he thinks it’s so cool that you’re an author

“i always figured you’d end up doing something like that.”

“yeah?”

“i mean, do you remember hiding out in the library at lunch? you were always writing in your notebooks.”

“those were good times.”

“yeah...”

and you tease him, asking if he’s become some kind of super hacker, seeing as it was always a passion of his

and he laughs nervously

“well, you see...”

“riley!”

and the two of you hang out pretty consistently

you meet ben when you’re hanging out at riley’s apartment one day

and you knew riley has really weird friends, you included, but,,, ben is just something else

but you both bond over the fact that you both have that deep seeded urge to protect riley™ because he is literal sunshine

and then he tells you out of the blue that he is going on a treasure hunt for gold that was hidden by the founder fathers

“excuse me?”

“he’s in good hands, trust me. we have ian howe.”

and all you can do is blink

“it’s treasure, (y/n). way better than my office job.”

“well, if you actually find treasure, you’re taking me on your next adventure.”

“god willing, there won’t be another.”

and when riley comes back, with a ferrari, you are so glad you befriended riley back when he was an awkward teenager

he comes by your house one day to take you on a drive

it’s then he tells you about how he wants to write a book about conspiracy theories and whether or not they are true

“it’s a goldmine, (y/n) - especially since one is true. you have to ride success out, y’know?”

and you laugh.

but you agree to help him.

which means you spend the majority of your free time at riley’s apartment (he has the better wifi) looking up conspiracy theories, rating their validity, and interviewing people who have stories for you to follow

and if you don’t fall in love with your best friend during this time, you’re lying to yourself

there are a lot of late nights with take out pizza, where the two of you are arguing about whether area 51 is real or not

it’s totally real, and riley cannot be convinced otherwise

and there are lots of moments where riley is drafting his book at two in the morning, and you are reading over his shoulder, fixing his grammar and punctuation while nodding off

and neither of you are awkward with how close you are, how you are practically falling asleep with your chin on his shoulder, how he is leaning his head so that he can look at you out of the corner of his eye

you fall asleep on his couch, and when you wake up in the morning, the two of you are cuddling, and you are wearing one of his sweatshirts because it’s always cold in his drafty apartment

then you will wake him up and the two of you will go get pancakes at ihop before starting the cycle all over again.

but when riley starts to notice his feelings for you, he doesn’t really know what to do

and he has like, zero help in this area

ben is like ???? you’re asking me ???

and abigail just thinks it cute, tbh, so she’s no help

so he mostly tries to play off his love through jokes and terrible pick up lines, almost all of them about conspiracy theories or treasure hunting.

and they are terribly corny, but you love them, anyway

you laugh hard enough to encourage it.

and when his book is finally published, you are the first person to buy a copy

and you know you read it, even though you were the one to edit it for him

“i thought we cut out the part about the lost city of atlantis.”

“there’s no way i was going to cut that! it’s the best part.”

“of course it is.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

and when ben turns up, saying that he has to prove the innocence of his families name, you are not exactly surprised

“is this going to involve stealing the declaration of independence?”

“that was one time! besides, it’s not like it could be worse than that.”

and you scoff

“are you coming?”

“...yeah.”

and when ben says he has to kidnap the president of the united states, you are going to  s c r e a m

but you should really thank ben, really, seeing as tense circumstances lead to messy love confessions...

AND FLUFF ENSUES.

#national treasure #riley poole #national treasure riley #x reader #reader insert #imagine #would include #headcanons #fluff #rileypooleheadcanons

[askcarlyle]

Askblog Halloween Special, Discord Edition Part 2

[The conclusion to the TGS Askblog Discord Halloween Special posted yesterday.]

Barnum

Bolts down the pitch black hallway, hands out in front of him to stop himself from running into things in the dark. Not having much luck with this and banging into several upturned tables and doors on route. Unsure where he was even going but is able to hear clacking footsteps rapidly approaching. 

Hits a dead end and presses his back against the cold brick wall, glancing around and wishing there was even so much as a window or a crack somewhere to let in some light. Takes a shaky breath as the clacking footsteps continue to approach 

You know you're not supposed to be in here, whoever you are. You're trespassing on my property, I could have you arrested. 

Continues to stare at the blackness before him as the footsteps get closer. 

...You know what. We'll call it even. I'll even hire you to work here for me. Pay you a decent wage. 

Footsteps continue to approach 

...I'm going to be honest with you here, being blind is unnerving me more than it perhaps should and your shoes on the floorboards remind me eerily of the days I stayed here and the horrible matron who would beat you for getting out of bed. I really don't want to remember much of that. So if you could kindly show me the way to- 

Hears the footsteps pause right in front of him, able to feel a chilly breeze like breath against his face. Reaches out to try to grab the stranger and yelps as something hard smacks his wrist 

HEY! How da-

Reaches his other hand out to grab and feels it happen again but harder, hard enough to draw a little blood on his wrist. 

That's enough! Stop it! This isn't- 

Another slap on the other wrist and he gasps and reacts, running forwards to tackle whoever was there, but instead bolting straight through and bumping into a wall opposite. 

Panics a little in the darkness and fumbles around until he finds something hard that feels like the broken leg of a chair, picking it up and swinging it around wildly to try to fight off whatever this thing was 

I DON'T KNOW WHAT KIND OF PRANK THIS IS BUT YOU'RE NOT A GHOST AND THIS ISN'T FUNNY. 

Whacks the chair leg into something metallic, which suddenly bursts and sprays icy, coppery tasting water into his face. 

AGH! CHARITY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Gags and coughs and stumbles back, continuing to try to hit anything coming close.

Charity

Hears crashing and banging, hears Barnum yelling and goes searching Phineas? Where are you?

Carlyle

meanwhile, back in the nursery gestures towards the shadows and settles back in chair with the storybook You can come over, we're here to help you. My friend is going to set something up. Why don't we keep on reading in the meantime?

Deng Yan

That's a good idea. They'll probably like it if you keep talking. -small smirk- or singing, if you'd rather. -starts sorting through her bag. Takes out two small pouches, and a bundle of incense.- It's probably been a while since anyone spoke to them.

Barnum

CHARITY!!! 

Starts running back in the opposite direction to try to find another door to go through, searching for her voice. 

Feels something grab the back of his jacket

Charity

runs down the stairs following the noise 

Phin what the hell are you doing it sounds like you're tearing the house down

Shines lamp into darkness and watches a spider scurry away No not going that way

Carlyle

glances over to Deng while turning a page How do you know so much about them?

Deng Yan

I don't. not about them specifically. But I have my own ways of honoring the dead. Where I grew up, it's just a part of life. Like prayers in church on a Sunday, for Christians. All we have to go off for the children in particular is what Barnum said and if it's true...well, I wouldn't want to be trapped in a place that held so much fear for me. For even a few hours, let alone.... years. Decades. However long they've been here. -takes out a couple of small spare candles- Can I borrow your lantern?

Carlyle

slides lantern over without pausing in the story ...and as the beast began to see the error of his ways, he began to recover the humanity that had so long dwindled in their cursed twilight...

Deng Yan

lights first one candle, then the second. Takes them carefully to the far corners of the room and places them down, letting the wax run enough to stick them to the floor. Then returns to the lantern with a third candle, to place in the other corner talking quietly, not wanting to disturb Phillip's reading There we go. No need to be afraid of the dark now.

Barnum

The hand grabbing his jacket pulls him back, slowly lifting him off the ground by a few inches. He dangles frozen for a moment, realizing that whoever this was must be at least a few heads bigger than him, a terrifying inhuman thought. 

Manages to regain some sense and wriggles free of his jacket, hitting the ground and running again, shivering a little from being soaked through and losing a layer. 

CHARITY GET OUT OF THE HOUSE. GET PHILLIP AND DENG AND GET OUT OF THE BUILDING. 

THERE'S SOMEONE IN HERE. IT'S NOT SAFE.

Charity

Freezes in place, a shiver running down her spine What do you mean there's someone in here? is torn between running back upstairs or running out the door

Carlyle

tilts head as if listening to someone, then nods slowly in response I'm sorry, I hadn't meant to act as if I was ignoring you at first. Sometimes people say things hoping that if they repeat them enough, it will be true. But we're here now and nobody will harm you again, I promise.

Deng Yan

I think they like you, Phillip. Don't let me distract you. lights the incense next, shaking out the flame but blowing on the tip until it smoulders. starts walking slowly around the room.

Barnum

I MEAN there is someone IN HERE! Charity just GO! 

Darts around a corner and smashes into her at full speeds, knocking them both into a heap and knocking the lantern too, which rolls into a puddle in the moulding floorboards and goes out 

...Charity!

Charity

Picks herself up from the floor, groaning Yes you found me. Owww. What were you yelling about?

Barnum

Sorry, sorry! 

Tries to dust her down but can't find her very well in the dark. 

No time. Run. 

Takes her hand and bolts

Deng Yan

tips the contents of the pouches into a pile on the floor, mixing salt and rice together 

It's going to be okay. you've waited this long, you can wait just a few moments longer. Just listen to Phillip telling you the story. Nothing here to be afraid of. 

takes a large handful of salt and rice. Walking around the room, sprinkling it in a large circle. Chanting, or talking softly in a mix of languages as she walks.

Carlyle

..and so the spell was broken and all the castle's subjects awakened from their enchanted sleep as if from a long, restful nap. They saw their long-missed friends and beloved family around them, in the gentle light of a fresh new day, together again beyond the mists of endless dreams. And they lived happily ever after. 

shuts the book softly and looks over to Deng in expectation 

Ready?

Deng Yan

flicks a tiny amount of salt and rice at Phillip, smiling 

I think so. They should know what to do. 

settles down on the floor in the middle of the room. starts talking n a different language again, sounding almost like she's singing.

Barnum

Decides that Charity isn't running fast enough as the eerie footsteps start to catch them up, picking her up and slinging her over one shoulder as he runs. Kicking down an old door to run through. 

You can yell at me later for this. Right now I need to keep you alive.

Carlyle

watches shadows around them seem to fade, the light from the candles now growing from pinpricks to bright flickers that reach all corners of the room ...good bye.

Deng Yan

Finishes her chanting, bringing her hands together once in a loud, clear clap. Remains sitting with her eyes closed while the sound rings out in the quiet of the room

Carlyle

rubs at eyes with the corner of a sleeve Thank you. frowns, hearing distant yelling Is that PT? Why is he making so much noise?

Barnum

Hears the footsteps fade away but doesn't stop running immediately, darting through corridors and around corners until he manages to feel out a closet in the dark, pulling them both inside and slamming the door to hide while he catches his breath 

I think we lost her but I have no idea where we are. I hope Phil is safe.

Charity

Is indignant with rage Phineas Taylor Barnum, you-

Barnum

Covers her mouth 

SHH.

Charity

Just because you are bigger and stronger than most people does not mean that you can pick people up and carry them out of buildings whenever you feel like it 

Muffled dont you shush me

Deng Yan

looking around at the direction of the yelling I don't know. Maybe a mouse ran over his foot. Gets to her feet, her legs shaking just a little as she does Are you okay, Carlyle?

Barnum

There's someone out there, they attacked me. I'm going to get you out of here to safety but you need to stay quiet. 

Starts clinging to her a little bit, soggy from being sprayed with water and quivering slightly from the icy cold of the drafty old house.

Charity

Clings tigher So....the ghosts are actually real?

Barnum

I didn't say that! 

....Maybe. 

I just don't know. 

I didn't think they were! I thought it was rumours.

Carlyle

Yes, quite fine, thank you. And you? 

brushes off clothes and starts for the door Do you think they're in trouble?

Charity

So are they ghosts or murderers or just pranksters? You bring me to the nicest places.

Barnum

Presses his face into her hair miserably 

I don't know. I don't want to find out.

Deng Yan

hesitates for a moment, blinking after him as though she might like to say something more but thinking better of it. I'm sure they're fine but let me deal with the candles. The last thing we want is another fire on our hands. goes around the room hastily blowing out the candles as fast as her still slightly shaky legs will allow. Come on. Let's go find our Barnums.

Charity

I cannot believe you threw me over your shoulder.

Carlyle

hurries downstairs It seemed to be coming from down this way.

Barnum

I was trying to protect you!

Charity

You'll need protecting from me by the time we get out of this mess

Carlyle

looks back and, noticing Deng's slower pace, stops to offer her an arm

Barnum

Not even a thank you for saving your life?

Charity

We don't know that my life needed saving

Barnum

That psychopath out there could have killed us both!

Charity

And could be killing us right now yet here we stand. 

Hiding in a cupboard

Deng Yan

takes the offered arm for a moment, catching her breath, but pulls a dagger from her belt and steps in front, keeping one hand back on Phillip's arm just in case. I'm sure they're fine, but stay behind me.

Barnum

I'm starting to remember why we separated. 

Fine, come on! 

Tears open the door, grabs her hand and starts running, slamming straight into a wall in the pitch darkness 

...Oww

Charity

Stifles a giggle

Carlyle

peers down a dark hallway PT? Charity?

Charity

Maybe if you hadn't dropped the lamp

Deng Yan

Barnum? doesn't lower her dagger

Barnum

Maybe if you had kept a better grip on it! 

Rubs at his forehead and grabs her hand again to start in another direction, walking at a fast pace rather than running this time. 

Keep an ear out in case she finds us.

Charity

If you hadn't throw me over your shoulder!

Carlyle

bolts down the hallway, swinging lamp ahead I think I heard someone talking up ahead.

Barnum

If you could move at a decent pace I wouldn't have had to!!

Charity

Where is Phillip anyway? Why aren't you worried about him? 

grumbles You and your stupidly long legs

Deng Yan

Phillip! I said to stay behind me! runs after him, swearing under her breath

Barnum

Of course I'm worried about him! He could be anywhere! He might be lying dead somewhere having fallen through the floor or throttled by whoever has broken in here. 

But what can I do ?! 

I can't even protect us, how am I supposed to help! How am I supposed to do anything? I shouldn't have even brought you all here.

Charity

Places hands over his okay calm down, I'm sure they're both fine.

Carlyle

careens around a corner and can now hear voices clearly PT! CHARITY!

Barnum

Steadies his breathing and takes her hand to squeeze it. Suddenly squeezing it harder when he hears a voice 

PHIL?!! 

WHERE ARE YOU? WE CAN'T SEE ANYTHING.

Carlyle

stumbles to a halt and backs up, cocking head to listen. Turns and pulls open a door to the left and shines lantern inside on the missing Barnums

Deng Yan

catches up to Phillip at last, grumbling still. looks over his shoulder into the room. Everyone okay in here?

Charity

Oh good we're safe! See, told you there's no such thing as ghosts!

Barnum

Winces at the light before letting his shoulders sag in relief. Darting over and immediately hugging Phillip and picking him off the ground 

You're alive, You're fine. 

Are you hurt? 

Puts him down and turns to cup Deng’s face, glancing her over seemingly satisfied, then glancing back at Charity to make sure she's okay. Then grabs Phil again. 

Fine. Everyone is fine.

Charity

So is anyone going to explain what the hell just happened?

Deng Yan

Startles at Barnum's hand on her face We are...quite fine. We were just in the other room upstairs.

Carlyle

gingerly hands lantern over to Charity before launching self at Barnum, equally relieved and exasperated What are you doing in the laundry room?

Charity

looks pointedly at barnum

Barnum

Picks Phillip back off of the floor and squeezes him 

...I did wonder why I could smell soap. 

I was wrong, some of the floorboards in that room are perhaps not entirely stable. 

Presses his face into Phillip's shoulder, leaching his warmth 

There's someone chasing us down here. No-one is supposed to be in here. 

She was....I mean it was.... 

I can't hear the footsteps anymore but we were being chased.

Deng Yan

We didn't see anyone, and we've just been all over this house looking for you. We would have gone right past them. goes to Charity Are you alright, Charity?

Charity

Glares at Barnum I'll be alright once we get out of here. What happened to you? Did you see anything?

Carlyle

head pops up from where it was nuzzling Barnum's hair Chased? There's nobody else here but us. pauses and glances to Deng Anymore.

Charity

Pulls Deng into a hug I feel left out

Barnum

There was someone! She must have been at least eight feet tall! She must have..... 

Trails off into Phillip's shoulder in exhaustion, still not putting the poor man down

Charity

And what do you mean, anymore?

Deng Yan

startles again but hesitantly wraps her arms around Charity and then leans against her a little We were talking to the children. That's all.

Charity

Shudders....When you say children, you don't mean Caroline and Helen, do you?

Carlyle

wriggles out of Barnum's grip and tugs him towards the lobby Why don't we get out of here?

Barnum

Grabs Phillip's arm to follow 

Immediately. 

Though I have no idea where we're going to go. We're out in the middle of nowhere, the carriage isn't coming back for us until morning.

Deng Yan

Of course not Caroline and Helen. They'll be safely at home with Lettie. still walking a little slower than normal I'm tired.

Charity

Follows after them I....have many questions

Carlyle

heading towards the entrance I saw stables around the back when we were pulling up. Might be enough shelter for the night. The wind's died down.

Charity

Wrinkles nose I'm allergic to hay

Barnum

You can sleep outside.

Charity

You can sleep in the house with the ghosts

Deng Yan

rubs her forehead Barnums, please. Enough bickering.

Carlyle

considers There's probably a groom's quarters... the ladies can sleep there.

Deng Yan

i don't mind where I sleep.

Carlyle

With enough blankets, I'm sure we'll be fine in the hayloft. God, why are you soaking wet? We're going to have to dry those clothes....

Barnum

Grabs the suitcases and blankets from the lobby and follows them outside, using his foot to knock open the stable door. 

I used to be a groom once. Used to prefer sleeping in the hay to the quarters anyway. 

I think I broke a water tank in a fight. Then a ghost stole my jacket. 

It's very cold. 

Nudges the door shut behind them with his hip

Deng Yan

...That presents more questions than it answers

Carlyle

is about to question Barnum's statement, then thinks better of it Change of clothes. Now.

Charity

Slumps down in the hay No such things as ghosts.

Sneezes

Barnum

Takes a drenched handkerchief out of his pocket and tosses it at her 

Not what you said five minutes ago. 

Rummages in his case.

Charity

Ah I never said ghosts were real

eyes handkerchief with disgust

Carlyle

creaks open a door and beckons Charity over Here you are. These bunks look dry and hay-free. deposits her suitcase inside

Deng Yan

sits down and then lies down so quickly she nearly falls I'm just going to lay here for a bit.

Charity

Hugs Phillip Thank you Phillip, you are a star

falls into sneezing fit

Barnum

We should start a fire for warmth. Turn around please. 

Pulls out his nightshirt and starts getting undressed

Deng Yan

deliberately doesn't look away

Charity

Laughs Nothing none of us haven't seen before

Carlyle

surreptitiously palms his flask and hands it to Charity as well Have a restful evening, Mrs. Barnum.

Charity

Takes flask You're my favourite

Barnum

Narrows his eyes at them, shirtless. Then ducks behind a pile of hay to continue dressing in privacy

Deng Yan

wolf whistles

Carlyle

turns to fetch Deng's bag and freezes like a deer in the headlights at the shirtless display

Barnum

Pulls his nightshirt on quickly. Laying out his wet clothes to let them dry. 

Toss me one of those blankets, I'm freezing. 

I'll start a fire if you help me find a spot without too much hay.

Carlyle

coughs and stumbles over to get the other bag Do you need assistance to your quarters, Miss Yan?

Deng Yan

No no, I can mange. I just... needed a moment to rest.

Charity

Announces loudly from the doorway I'm going to bed and if I overhear anything I don't want to hear looks pointedly at Barnum and Carlyle I shall feed you to the ghosts.

Clear?

Barnum

Don't worry, you won't hear anything over your snoring.Grins at her.

Carlyle

coughs again and turns a shade pinker but doesn't say a word

Charity

Grumbles Oh shut up Phineas Taylor Barnum

Deng Yan

grinning. gets to her feet and picks up her bag stumbles her way over to groom's quarters An elephant would be snoring. Wouldn't drown out Carlyle.

Carlyle

drags own bags up towards loft, muttering to Barnum in passing Idle threat. No ghosts left to feed.

Charity

Covers ears Blurgh

Barnum

Pulls a blanket over himself for warmth and sits on the ground to start trying to light a small bonfire. Sneaking a glance at Phil. 

There were no ghosts in the first place. Even if there were, any noises you make would send them running for the hills. You sound like a steam powered motor boat. 

I think we should sleep with the lanterns lit though. For the sake of the ladies.

Carlyle

changes into nightshirt and scoots under blanket You're absolutely right, no ghosts at all.

Barnum

Gets momentarily frustrated as he dashes two stones together to try to make a spark, then pauses and squeezes the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. Reaching into his bag to pull out some matches and lighting the small bonfire with one. 

Shifts over to sit as close to Phil as possible and warms his hands over the fire. 

I am...sorry for bringing you here.

Carlyle

huddles closer, staring into the fire thoughtfully Don't be. We had a job to do here. shakes head and elbows Barnum before he can follow up Motor boat?

Barnum

Teasingly elbows him back 

You practically vibrate yourself off the bed.

Carlyle

tips backwards into pile of hay, pulling Barnum along Well, if they're expecting to be annoyed anyway. It'd be a shame to disappoint them.

Barnum

Cups Phillip's face and kisses him deeply 

I like your thinking.

Carlyle

fade to black

#tgs #the greatest showman #pt barnum #phillip carlyle #charity barnum #deng yan #halloween 2k18 #the greatest halloween #discord