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An Angel's Respite (Ending)
The sounds of the mountains were near silent, a sort of tranquility there was calmness an almost silentness as all the animals and monsters seemed to take rest as the sun rose.
well except two monsters.
The two boys were put to bed, Wilbur and Leo—Leo after a while became a loud and rowdy kid Hester knew he truly was—he was quiet and scared easily but he screamed and laughed loudly when it was just Wilbur, when he thought it was just Wilbur.
After the fiasco of trying to find enough room for everyone to sleep, Alexander finally graciously offered his bed for both boys as Wilbur had hit a growth spurt and it was now uncomfortable for him to sleep on the tiny sofa.
Hester could hear the gentle snores of the two boys and Hester beamed to no one in particular, giddy in that way that came with a child-like excitement of finding something new.
"Why are you smiling?" Hester heard Alexander drawl behind him not rude or bothered, just genuine interest. Hester didn't need to turn to know he was reading a book sitting on the soft sofa that Hester slept on.
"Can I not be happy? Is that against the rules of living here?" Hester teased, smiling as he reached his hand to the pile of wood, he threw another log in the fire, stretching his wings out as if he could take the energy from the flames itself and use it as his own.
He wanted to stay up tonight. No particular reason, just to chat with Alexander. (and maybe because Hester had no idea where he's sleeping tonight)
"It is strictly against the policy that I have in place, yes." Alexander quipped back light-hearted and kind.
"Well then I guess I must leave, goodbye Alexander." Hester said dramatically, flapping his wings sitting crisscrossed on the floor. "You are not going anywhere, you will freeze before you make it anywhere."
Hester hummed in acceptance it was freezing outside—and for no reason at all—shifted closer to the flames smiling pleasantly as the heat seeped into his wings, the feathers flare up with the movement.
His wings were bruised from the scorching disaster that was meant to be getting Wilbur back. The feathery monster strapped to his back became an intolerable weight that screamed in protest at every muscle stretched.
Hester tried to strain them unconsciously, then feeling a flaming spike of pain shoot through him, like a dagger being twisted. Hester winched from it, biting his tongue and back a curse.
Alexander noticed the movement and what it meant. Nothing of concern, of course, but regardless, Hester would heal eventually—even if he didn't want a potion to help the process.
Hester heard Alexander set his book down beside him and slips down off of his place on the sofa, settling down with his back braced against the foot of it. Hester blinks at him for a moment before smiling, shoulders slumping as he recognizes the familiar position, feathers already ruffling in anticipation of preening.
This had quickly become one of their day-to-day 'chores' as Alexander only half-heartedly would call it, but to Hester it was an exercise of trust between the two of them. His wings are the most precious part of Hester more than his heart and soul half the time—scratch that, Hester's wings are his soul.
They were tattered, and ached every moment—like phantom flames, though Hester wasn't afraid of fire after the incident. If anything, it made him want to heal so he could teach Leo how to fly, it gave him determination to become well. To become better.
-Thought- A small pestering voice in the back of his head said. -What if you're trapped forever on land? What if you never fly again?-
"Come here, you bird." Alexander said as Hester shuffled over. On reflex spreading his wings as far as they could go, the heat seeping into every crevice of them—it felt like it was warming his very soul, leaking into every part of his body like the sun was beaming down on them.
Hester drowsily hummed, it was a melody Alexander wouldn't know—but Wilbur does, it was a short simple little string of notes barely passing off as a song, Wilbur knew it off by heart. It was Wilbur's little special thing. Something for just the two of them.
Hester leaned back as Alexander tried propping him up like some sort of item, "This is nice." Hester said eyes shutting softly continued humming. "You always say that." Alexander commented lightly. "It's alway nice." Hester corrected, Alexander pushing him slightly to at least give himself some room to work with.
The room the two were in being tranquil, calming, peaceful. Something Hester never thought he would experience—didn't think he'd ever live long enough to receive.
Hester flinches as an ache comes long and painful, Alexander understanding stops until Hester gives the telltale sign of his shoulders dropping back down relaxed and safe again.
The silence immediately flooded the room, however it didn't stretch, it moved, flowing seamlessly akin to a melody, the fire crackling the wind howling Hester's humming and Alexander's heartbeat made Hester's favorite sound. The sound of silence.
And what is peace, if not the blissful silence that follows?
Alexander combs through the jet-black feathers, as Hester hums. It was nice seeing Hester like this, the Angel of Death domesticated, a warrior at peace, a soldier at rest.
He hears a whisper, far too loud to actually be a secret.
Correction, they hear a parade of tiny footsteps.
Hester doesn't bother warning Alexander—after all, He didn't think he needed to warn anyone it sounded close to two giants stomping around.
“Should you two not be asleep?” Alexander whispers, without turning his head. He promptly hears a muffled squeak and the patter of feet across the wooden floor. He holds up a metal hand, and the tiptoeing stops suddenly. Then quickly followed by quiet, accusatory whispers firing back and forth.
“I told you you were being too loud!”
“Well, maybe if you hadn’t bumped into me I’d—!”
“Shhh!”
Alexander rolled his eyes, Hester tried and failed to stop a chuckle. Hester has no idea how he was going to take care of the two kids, but it was worth it. Hester titles his head up seeing the silhouettes and peering eyes of two boys staring down from the trapdoor above him and Alexander. He smiles as the kids haphazardly climb down the ladder.
He can't see them with his wings in the way but can imagine they'll be in the same position when Wilbur finds something new and possibly dangerous. (It's never dangerous)
Leo blinks from where he’s half-hidden behind Wilbur’s back, the older boy glaring down at him. No doubt, Leo was the one to give them away, though he doesn’t look particularly ashamed of his mistake. Instead, he stares at Hester’s sprawled wings with unfiltered curiosity, glancing between Alexander’s hand as it cards through the feathers and Hester's face, as he dozes where he sits, blissfully unaware of the new additions to their evening routine. His pudgy little hands twitch at his side, and the sight makes Alexander grin and rolls his eyes fondly.
"The responsible thing to do," Alexander said softly, trying to sound shallow and indecisive. Hester stifled a laugh, his shaking shoulders gave it away. "Would be putting you back to sleep." Alexander shook his head, defeated, weaving them over. "I could use the help however."
He beckoned them, patting the spot next to him invitingly.
Leo approaches first, his feet slowly hitting the floorboards, as if he stumbled across an injured animal in the woods, the brave little kid that he is. Seeming to finally break from his shell.
Wilbur’s a little slower, his smile a bit more cautious and nervous as he eyes Hester’s wings with wonder and the way Alexander continues to card his fingers through them. Hester’s eyes flutter back open at the feeling of two small creatures at his back and when he recognizes his sons, though neither have touched his wings yet. He makes a soft call in the back of his throat—a honey-sweet coo, gentle and warbling and full of affection, a sound that means love and warmth and care.
Wilbur’s hands hover over Hester's wing as it extends to drape across his legs. He looks terrified of messing it up.
Wilbur's brow in a knit of confusion as he sits next to Alexander keeping his hands in his lap far away from Hester's wings, he turns to Alexander for guidance and finds it as he gently moves Wilbur's hands to the feathers he flinches back—jumpy, just like his father. Hands barely touching and yet shuffling away as if burned.
"It is alright," Alexander says softly.
"It is easier than it seems." He says honestly, taking his left hand and slowly letting Wilbur's hand brush against the wall of inky black feathers.
"What if I hurt him?" Wilbur asks, voice watery and tired. Alexander smiles fondly. "Why would you?" He asks and (as much as it bothers him to say) loves as Wilbur's nose wrinkles in slight confusion and annoyance by his answer.
Hester makes something akin to a chirping noise from the back of his throat and Alexander had to suffocate back laughter—Leo and Wilbur on the other hand let their giggling bounce to and fro the walls.
Wilbur’s smile strengthens with determination and starts to mirror Alexander’s movements, working slowly but carefully to straighten the feathers, thumbing along the barbs to lock them together again. On Alexander's other side, Leo moves a little more clumsily, eager but sloppy, and Alexander chuffs under his breath, taking the small boy’s wrist in his hand to slow him down a little, it's not that he didn't trust him, however still felt guilty when Leo looked up petrified—what had this boy gone through?
It didn't matter, as the fear quickly evaporated as he started working alongside him, he guides his fingers through the movements, twisting and fluffing down and carefully, gently, tugging at feathers to check if they’re ready to come free.
One fell loose and Leo's hands shot up scooting back away from it, eyes wide and face worryingly pale. Hester heard Alexander comfort him, explaining the process to him. As Hester rested more on Alexander leaning his head on his chest and shoulder.
Alexander halfheartedly groans by the extra weight.
By now, Hester's head has completely tipped back onto both of Alexander’s shoulders, forcing him to all but abandon his efforts in lieu of holding his friend upright. His arms have slipped beneath Hester’s wings to loop around his stomach, tugging him close up against his chest. Hester’s steady breaths tickle his neck, his nose pressed into the skin of Alexander's throat as he battles sleep, clearly needing the rest—but as always, refuses to take it. Hester being close to drifting off having half the mind to at least try not to, to keep his flock company.
"You shouldn't sleep here," Alexander comments lightly, only now was Hester understanding the way his emotionless voice worked—an insult was coming. "It is not good for someone as old as you."
"Mate, shut up." Hester yawned, hearing Wilbur giggle sleepily by his side.
"Alright, we can rest here tonight, however I'm not sleeping upright." Alexander shrugs nonchalantly, even as Wilbur's eyes glisten with a sliver of hopefulness.
With wide eager honey brown eyes Wilbur asks "Nest time?" Leo perks up at the two words as he stares at Hester, Alexander nods his head once and the two excitedly drag the pillows and blankets off the sofa, eyes widened with excitement. Laughter bouncing off the walls throwing them around covering the floor in a plush layer of fabric and wool. As they shape and form a messy excuse of a nest. If Hester were more awake he would definitely make fun of, as it is however, Hester's a harmless little crow, a happy disaster of flock instincts.
Reaching for Leo and Wilbur as the two giggle and squawk from being pulled into their father's loving arms, the two eventually settle down. Breaths slow and rhythmic as they begin to drift into a deep slumber—it was beyond impressive seeing how quickly children fall asleep in their parents arms.
Hester tipped his head forward, humming as the two boys slept rubbing their backs and pulling the blanket closer on them with the utmost gentleness.
For a second, Alexander was simply content to watch the two boys and Hester rest, live in the moment and simply be.
Alexander halfheartedly struggled to get up, getting into a sitting position back braced against the sofa. Trying oh-so delicately to not disturb anyone, he fiddled with Hester's wings, trying not to disturb the man.
Alexander—(however Hester included) had never expected either to be the type to settle down, and yet here they are, nesting with two little monsters for children. The hard edges of Hester's face have been softened by his time away from battle, fresh scars fading into something dulled by the passing of time, some however, have not been given that blessing yet. His wings still tattered and scorched and—
"It's fine mate," Hester reassured softly, Alexander flinched. "It's all gonna be fine."
And for once, Alexander believes it.
Alexander settles back down, with no shortage of wiggling and squirming and struggling, he rests next to Hester, shoulder to shoulder with Leo sprawled across the two of them, his face squished against Hester's stomach and legs kicked out over Alexander's torso.
Hester let his eyelids become heavy with sleep, staring at the ceiling, hearing the fire pop, feeling Leo's steady rise and fall of his chest. Hester couldn’t be more grateful for this moment of peace in their lives, for the tiny little piece of the world they’ve carved out for themselves here by the mountains.
"Thank you." Hester mouthed silently to the ceiling. To any God or Goddess that was listening—or maybe an Angel that was looking over him. Every promise made and promise broken, every battle fought and victory achieved, every town burned, and heroes lost.
His eyes caught a familiar honey yellow, he turned ever-so-slightly seeing the bright eyes of Wilbur. They widen with anticipation—expecting something, Hester closes his eyes for a moment, dragging out a sigh—trying to be stern, however it was futile. His eyes remained open, waiting for a tale that he would weave for him.
For a moment, a quick singular and silent moment. The world and all of its horrors were reduced to one tiny room, all that ever seemed to matter, contained and secured and safe.
Hester could practically hear Alexander's teasing him for his softness, his quick to become domesticated, tamed, but he could handle a little if it meant being able to bask in this peace and quiet and safety a little while longer, nestled against his best friend’s side and far away from the strife of war or leading an army.
And now, with the fighting all over—
"One day, a very, very long time ago" Hester whispered softly, trying the syllables on his lips, a story memorized forever engraved and imprinted on his very life and soul. "A Goddess met a mortal." He began drowsily resting his head next to Alexander, and Leo, and Wilbur.
"And decided that they would be her Angel. . ."
And they lived, happily ever after.
The End.
[[]][[]][[]][[]][[]]
Art by ilomiart on Tumbler
Inspired by Bunflower 'i'll make you fly' on Ao3
All Characters taken from the Dream SMP
All written using Novelist
Started 7/4/2023 Finished 6/3/2024 Posted 29/6/2024
Thank you for reading, it has been an honor.
© Unavailable
[[]][[]][[]][[]][[]]
well except two monsters.
The two boys were put to bed, Wilbur and Leo—Leo after a while became a loud and rowdy kid Hester knew he truly was—he was quiet and scared easily but he screamed and laughed loudly when it was just Wilbur, when he thought it was just Wilbur.
After the fiasco of trying to find enough room for everyone to sleep, Alexander finally graciously offered his bed for both boys as Wilbur had hit a growth spurt and it was now uncomfortable for him to sleep on the tiny sofa.
Hester could hear the gentle snores of the two boys and Hester beamed to no one in particular, giddy in that way that came with a child-like excitement of finding something new.
"Why are you smiling?" Hester heard Alexander drawl behind him not rude or bothered, just genuine interest. Hester didn't need to turn to know he was reading a book sitting on the soft sofa that Hester slept on.
"Can I not be happy? Is that against the rules of living here?" Hester teased, smiling as he reached his hand to the pile of wood, he threw another log in the fire, stretching his wings out as if he could take the energy from the flames itself and use it as his own.
He wanted to stay up tonight. No particular reason, just to chat with Alexander. (and maybe because Hester had no idea where he's sleeping tonight)
"It is strictly against the policy that I have in place, yes." Alexander quipped back light-hearted and kind.
"Well then I guess I must leave, goodbye Alexander." Hester said dramatically, flapping his wings sitting crisscrossed on the floor. "You are not going anywhere, you will freeze before you make it anywhere."
Hester hummed in acceptance it was freezing outside—and for no reason at all—shifted closer to the flames smiling pleasantly as the heat seeped into his wings, the feathers flare up with the movement.
His wings were bruised from the scorching disaster that was meant to be getting Wilbur back. The feathery monster strapped to his back became an intolerable weight that screamed in protest at every muscle stretched.
Hester tried to strain them unconsciously, then feeling a flaming spike of pain shoot through him, like a dagger being twisted. Hester winched from it, biting his tongue and back a curse.
Alexander noticed the movement and what it meant. Nothing of concern, of course, but regardless, Hester would heal eventually—even if he didn't want a potion to help the process.
Hester heard Alexander set his book down beside him and slips down off of his place on the sofa, settling down with his back braced against the foot of it. Hester blinks at him for a moment before smiling, shoulders slumping as he recognizes the familiar position, feathers already ruffling in anticipation of preening.
This had quickly become one of their day-to-day 'chores' as Alexander only half-heartedly would call it, but to Hester it was an exercise of trust between the two of them. His wings are the most precious part of Hester more than his heart and soul half the time—scratch that, Hester's wings are his soul.
They were tattered, and ached every moment—like phantom flames, though Hester wasn't afraid of fire after the incident. If anything, it made him want to heal so he could teach Leo how to fly, it gave him determination to become well. To become better.
-Thought- A small pestering voice in the back of his head said. -What if you're trapped forever on land? What if you never fly again?-
"Come here, you bird." Alexander said as Hester shuffled over. On reflex spreading his wings as far as they could go, the heat seeping into every crevice of them—it felt like it was warming his very soul, leaking into every part of his body like the sun was beaming down on them.
Hester drowsily hummed, it was a melody Alexander wouldn't know—but Wilbur does, it was a short simple little string of notes barely passing off as a song, Wilbur knew it off by heart. It was Wilbur's little special thing. Something for just the two of them.
Hester leaned back as Alexander tried propping him up like some sort of item, "This is nice." Hester said eyes shutting softly continued humming. "You always say that." Alexander commented lightly. "It's alway nice." Hester corrected, Alexander pushing him slightly to at least give himself some room to work with.
The room the two were in being tranquil, calming, peaceful. Something Hester never thought he would experience—didn't think he'd ever live long enough to receive.
Hester flinches as an ache comes long and painful, Alexander understanding stops until Hester gives the telltale sign of his shoulders dropping back down relaxed and safe again.
The silence immediately flooded the room, however it didn't stretch, it moved, flowing seamlessly akin to a melody, the fire crackling the wind howling Hester's humming and Alexander's heartbeat made Hester's favorite sound. The sound of silence.
And what is peace, if not the blissful silence that follows?
Alexander combs through the jet-black feathers, as Hester hums. It was nice seeing Hester like this, the Angel of Death domesticated, a warrior at peace, a soldier at rest.
He hears a whisper, far too loud to actually be a secret.
Correction, they hear a parade of tiny footsteps.
Hester doesn't bother warning Alexander—after all, He didn't think he needed to warn anyone it sounded close to two giants stomping around.
“Should you two not be asleep?” Alexander whispers, without turning his head. He promptly hears a muffled squeak and the patter of feet across the wooden floor. He holds up a metal hand, and the tiptoeing stops suddenly. Then quickly followed by quiet, accusatory whispers firing back and forth.
“I told you you were being too loud!”
“Well, maybe if you hadn’t bumped into me I’d—!”
“Shhh!”
Alexander rolled his eyes, Hester tried and failed to stop a chuckle. Hester has no idea how he was going to take care of the two kids, but it was worth it. Hester titles his head up seeing the silhouettes and peering eyes of two boys staring down from the trapdoor above him and Alexander. He smiles as the kids haphazardly climb down the ladder.
He can't see them with his wings in the way but can imagine they'll be in the same position when Wilbur finds something new and possibly dangerous. (It's never dangerous)
Leo blinks from where he’s half-hidden behind Wilbur’s back, the older boy glaring down at him. No doubt, Leo was the one to give them away, though he doesn’t look particularly ashamed of his mistake. Instead, he stares at Hester’s sprawled wings with unfiltered curiosity, glancing between Alexander’s hand as it cards through the feathers and Hester's face, as he dozes where he sits, blissfully unaware of the new additions to their evening routine. His pudgy little hands twitch at his side, and the sight makes Alexander grin and rolls his eyes fondly.
"The responsible thing to do," Alexander said softly, trying to sound shallow and indecisive. Hester stifled a laugh, his shaking shoulders gave it away. "Would be putting you back to sleep." Alexander shook his head, defeated, weaving them over. "I could use the help however."
He beckoned them, patting the spot next to him invitingly.
Leo approaches first, his feet slowly hitting the floorboards, as if he stumbled across an injured animal in the woods, the brave little kid that he is. Seeming to finally break from his shell.
Wilbur’s a little slower, his smile a bit more cautious and nervous as he eyes Hester’s wings with wonder and the way Alexander continues to card his fingers through them. Hester’s eyes flutter back open at the feeling of two small creatures at his back and when he recognizes his sons, though neither have touched his wings yet. He makes a soft call in the back of his throat—a honey-sweet coo, gentle and warbling and full of affection, a sound that means love and warmth and care.
Wilbur’s hands hover over Hester's wing as it extends to drape across his legs. He looks terrified of messing it up.
Wilbur's brow in a knit of confusion as he sits next to Alexander keeping his hands in his lap far away from Hester's wings, he turns to Alexander for guidance and finds it as he gently moves Wilbur's hands to the feathers he flinches back—jumpy, just like his father. Hands barely touching and yet shuffling away as if burned.
"It is alright," Alexander says softly.
"It is easier than it seems." He says honestly, taking his left hand and slowly letting Wilbur's hand brush against the wall of inky black feathers.
"What if I hurt him?" Wilbur asks, voice watery and tired. Alexander smiles fondly. "Why would you?" He asks and (as much as it bothers him to say) loves as Wilbur's nose wrinkles in slight confusion and annoyance by his answer.
Hester makes something akin to a chirping noise from the back of his throat and Alexander had to suffocate back laughter—Leo and Wilbur on the other hand let their giggling bounce to and fro the walls.
Wilbur’s smile strengthens with determination and starts to mirror Alexander’s movements, working slowly but carefully to straighten the feathers, thumbing along the barbs to lock them together again. On Alexander's other side, Leo moves a little more clumsily, eager but sloppy, and Alexander chuffs under his breath, taking the small boy’s wrist in his hand to slow him down a little, it's not that he didn't trust him, however still felt guilty when Leo looked up petrified—what had this boy gone through?
It didn't matter, as the fear quickly evaporated as he started working alongside him, he guides his fingers through the movements, twisting and fluffing down and carefully, gently, tugging at feathers to check if they’re ready to come free.
One fell loose and Leo's hands shot up scooting back away from it, eyes wide and face worryingly pale. Hester heard Alexander comfort him, explaining the process to him. As Hester rested more on Alexander leaning his head on his chest and shoulder.
Alexander halfheartedly groans by the extra weight.
By now, Hester's head has completely tipped back onto both of Alexander’s shoulders, forcing him to all but abandon his efforts in lieu of holding his friend upright. His arms have slipped beneath Hester’s wings to loop around his stomach, tugging him close up against his chest. Hester’s steady breaths tickle his neck, his nose pressed into the skin of Alexander's throat as he battles sleep, clearly needing the rest—but as always, refuses to take it. Hester being close to drifting off having half the mind to at least try not to, to keep his flock company.
"You shouldn't sleep here," Alexander comments lightly, only now was Hester understanding the way his emotionless voice worked—an insult was coming. "It is not good for someone as old as you."
"Mate, shut up." Hester yawned, hearing Wilbur giggle sleepily by his side.
"Alright, we can rest here tonight, however I'm not sleeping upright." Alexander shrugs nonchalantly, even as Wilbur's eyes glisten with a sliver of hopefulness.
With wide eager honey brown eyes Wilbur asks "Nest time?" Leo perks up at the two words as he stares at Hester, Alexander nods his head once and the two excitedly drag the pillows and blankets off the sofa, eyes widened with excitement. Laughter bouncing off the walls throwing them around covering the floor in a plush layer of fabric and wool. As they shape and form a messy excuse of a nest. If Hester were more awake he would definitely make fun of, as it is however, Hester's a harmless little crow, a happy disaster of flock instincts.
Reaching for Leo and Wilbur as the two giggle and squawk from being pulled into their father's loving arms, the two eventually settle down. Breaths slow and rhythmic as they begin to drift into a deep slumber—it was beyond impressive seeing how quickly children fall asleep in their parents arms.
Hester tipped his head forward, humming as the two boys slept rubbing their backs and pulling the blanket closer on them with the utmost gentleness.
For a second, Alexander was simply content to watch the two boys and Hester rest, live in the moment and simply be.
Alexander halfheartedly struggled to get up, getting into a sitting position back braced against the sofa. Trying oh-so delicately to not disturb anyone, he fiddled with Hester's wings, trying not to disturb the man.
Alexander—(however Hester included) had never expected either to be the type to settle down, and yet here they are, nesting with two little monsters for children. The hard edges of Hester's face have been softened by his time away from battle, fresh scars fading into something dulled by the passing of time, some however, have not been given that blessing yet. His wings still tattered and scorched and—
"It's fine mate," Hester reassured softly, Alexander flinched. "It's all gonna be fine."
And for once, Alexander believes it.
Alexander settles back down, with no shortage of wiggling and squirming and struggling, he rests next to Hester, shoulder to shoulder with Leo sprawled across the two of them, his face squished against Hester's stomach and legs kicked out over Alexander's torso.
Hester let his eyelids become heavy with sleep, staring at the ceiling, hearing the fire pop, feeling Leo's steady rise and fall of his chest. Hester couldn’t be more grateful for this moment of peace in their lives, for the tiny little piece of the world they’ve carved out for themselves here by the mountains.
"Thank you." Hester mouthed silently to the ceiling. To any God or Goddess that was listening—or maybe an Angel that was looking over him. Every promise made and promise broken, every battle fought and victory achieved, every town burned, and heroes lost.
His eyes caught a familiar honey yellow, he turned ever-so-slightly seeing the bright eyes of Wilbur. They widen with anticipation—expecting something, Hester closes his eyes for a moment, dragging out a sigh—trying to be stern, however it was futile. His eyes remained open, waiting for a tale that he would weave for him.
For a moment, a quick singular and silent moment. The world and all of its horrors were reduced to one tiny room, all that ever seemed to matter, contained and secured and safe.
Hester could practically hear Alexander's teasing him for his softness, his quick to become domesticated, tamed, but he could handle a little if it meant being able to bask in this peace and quiet and safety a little while longer, nestled against his best friend’s side and far away from the strife of war or leading an army.
And now, with the fighting all over—
"One day, a very, very long time ago" Hester whispered softly, trying the syllables on his lips, a story memorized forever engraved and imprinted on his very life and soul. "A Goddess met a mortal." He began drowsily resting his head next to Alexander, and Leo, and Wilbur.
"And decided that they would be her Angel. . ."
And they lived, happily ever after.
The End.
[[]][[]][[]][[]][[]]
Art by ilomiart on Tumbler
Inspired by Bunflower 'i'll make you fly' on Ao3
All Characters taken from the Dream SMP
All written using Novelist
Started 7/4/2023 Finished 6/3/2024 Posted 29/6/2024
Thank you for reading, it has been an honor.
© Unavailable
[[]][[]][[]][[]][[]]
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