𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲【𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬𝐦𝐩 𝐖𝐚𝐫】

♛101♛

tw/cw: mentions of of gods/religion tied topics, cursing, mentions of addiction(Drugs, alcohol), mention of a fake suicide

I'm very serious about this guys, if any of this, even a tiny bit, makes you feel the slightest bit weird, uncomfortable, anything. Stop reading. Don't read the chapters with these warnings. I do in fact give them for a reason, and I'd hate for any of you to experience anything negative because I didn't provide good enough warnings. ♛

More found family ??

Someone dm'd me about Cypress' and Technoblade's relationship being toxic, and I'm like- Yes!!!! You get it!!! I'm so proud.

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"I am Charlie Slimecicle from Las Nevadas!" The green man introduced, sitting on a metal panel on the velvet couch to keep the liquid produced off of him from sinking into the material.
"And you are Cypress of..." He trailed off, motioning for her to continue.

She wasn't sure how to answer, nervous hands picking at the bloodied bandages covering her hand. Charlie must have noticed her discomfort, because he grabbed her hands gently, a large grin on his face.

"Cypress of Las Nevadas then!" He cheered, the grin never leaving his green tinted face. Cypress felt her face soften, giving a gentle smile back.
"Dap me up." The slime requested, earning a laugh from the woman, who was confused at first, but the man made the motion, which she copied.

"Quackity from Las Nevadas has returned." Charlie spoke, tearing his hands away from the woman's, bouncing up and wrapping the Hispanic man in a hug.

"That I have." Quackity seemed oddly happy. With a quick check to the door, he moved back over to the couch where Cypress was sat, carefully placing a bowl of soup and crackers in front of her, before shifting his body so he sat next to her.
"You feeling any better?"

She hummed, taking a spoonful of the soup, pleasantly surprised at the savory and thickened flavor.
"When did you learn how to cook?" She questioned meekly, taking another sip.

Quackity suddenly looked embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck, refusing to make eye contact.
"Actually.. I never learned. When- uh-  when I was going through your old house I found a bunch of cook books. I ended up just taking one, I hope you don't mind.." He trailed off, a shove coming from the woman, knocking him from his embarrassment.

"Those were my fathers recipes then." She teased, snickering at his embarrassment. Quackity flushed red, looking defeated.

"...Well! They've been feeding us for a while, give your father my thanks." He muttered, giving her a small glimpse, his body relaxing at the laugh that came from her.
"Hey- I know it's weird, but, it's good to hear you laugh again."

"You look happy as well, I'm glad for that." Charlie poked up his head around the couch, before shoving his index finger into Cypress' cheek, cutting off her next words.

"Can I try that?" He questioned, resting his chin on his palm, leaned over the velvet furniture. 

"It's hot-" Cypress warned, bringing the spoon up to Charlie's mouth, the latter who engulfed it, pausing for a second, before sticking out his tongue in panic.

"It burns- it burns it burns!" He choked out, fanning his tongue, the two other adults in the room bursting into laughter.
"why didn't you warn me.." Charlie mumbled, seemingly betrayed, his tongue a light shade of brown, which she could only assume was a 'burnt' color for the slime. Cypress dug her face into the velvet material, muffling her choked laughs.

"I did warn you-"

"Well not well enough Cypress from Las Nevadas." Charlie breathed out, fanning his burnt tongue, Quackity was too far-gone for saving, hunched over, tears sprouting out of the corner of his eyes, wheezes caught in the back of his throat. A few hesitant knocks hit the door, Charlie, quite literally, bouncing up and moving over to answer the door. Fundy stood next to Foolish, a hesitant smile on his face.

"We wer-" Fundy spoke, trailing off, eyeing the woman who was sat cross legged on the velvet sofa, going silent, he stared shell-shocked.
"You're alive? Sam.. spoke about how you.." He trailed off, his voice cutting off into a soft mumble.
"They think you're dead."

Cypress hummed, finding her mind drift from itself. It was hard, thinking all of the time, she wished it all stopped for just a few minutes, some kind of peace.

"It wouldn't be the first time." She breathed out, leaning back into the comforts of the couch, Quackity's arm carefully wrapping around her shoulders. The thought was still in the back of her head, how the god requested she became one too, a chance to be content and happy for as long as she wanted.

"Sam.. has been telling everyone how you threw yourself off the tower." Fundy hesitantly continued, keeping his eyes on the woman, who only seemed to distantly gaze out of the window, as if his words were going in one ear and out the other.

"How funny, considering everything. How quick are people to believe a man who allowed a child to be murdered under his watch." Cypress pushed herself up, breathing out a ragged sigh.
"How quick are people to believe a man who allowed someone to torture a prisoner. Or, to believe a man who tortured his own lover, unable to do the bloody work himself?"

Quackity gripped onto the arm of the velvet in panic, giving the woman a warning glance.
"Who? Who's been torturing Dream?" Fundy spoke out, suddenly seeming interested in the former, now imprisoned leader.

"I have no clue." She lied easily, refusing to make eye contact with the Hispanic man. A sharp laugh followed, paired with a sigh and the woman pressing her hand to her forehead, pushing back the straw hairs out of her face. Charlie blinked, for the first time being silent, his gelatin fingers tapping on the gold accents on the chair. Foolish's eyes narrowed. He wasn't truly too familiar with the woman, only the Red Banquet when they had first met. Although the god found it strange, how his adoptive Aunt seemingly had the aura of an old friend of his. Foolish was convinced it wasn't the woman, mortals weren't often gods, but somehow, someway, she had a higher being attached to her hip. 

"Let them believe I died then. I couldn't give a single fuck. But how funny is it to believe the higher beings would even allow my death." Foolish moved to speak, only to be cut off by the woman's hand rested on his wrist. He was still significantly taller than her, requiring him to peer downwards at the woman.

"I'll rephrase myself. A certain higher being wouldn't allow my death." Foolish squinted his eyes. Sometimes those connected to the gods were given the ability to see them. From what he had heard from a certain passed king, George could also see the being attached to the woman. Although he only spoke of the horrors and malice behind the gods intentions through his dreams. How the god could bring things to the stable mind-space, transferring objects between realities.

Foolish could only look at her in concern, his eyes focused on the green tinted outline standing behind her.