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sansxfuckyou · 1 year

Text

When does the line blur and are we crossing it?

Summary: Every gods price for a blessing is high, it can go from eternal loyalty to mortality itself- but for a god like Philza, that of death itself, the swarm and the plague, it's a lot lower than Schlatt expected considering what he asked of the god.

And somehow Phil finds himself getting sick of it long before Schlatt does.

Warnings: heavy gore, Dream dies brutally, family drama, suggestive themes, Tubbo is kidnapped twice, gruesome murder, Ao3 port has full tags

Authors Note: your honor, concerned dudes co-parenting a traumatized goat boy, I'll go hide in my hole again. @sobredunia hey, hey remember this thing? it's been finished for me and the two other people that enjoy the notions. also, big, massive, gore warning, my inner phan was squealing with delight as I wrote it, but, on the Tumblr port I have marked them off with these --- at the start and end, so it can be avoided. anyways! if ya'll enjoyed maybe consider dropping a reblog or checking out the Ao3 port to leave a comment or kudos.

"Philza," He began a little bit breathlessly as he stared at the shadowed form in front of him.

A swarm of crows crowded out the body, allowing a mirage of height and size, he took a step forward. And then he took another, this time his movement looked more fluid, more practiced. The amount of birds flocking to his form died down with each step until he was standing in front of the man. He flared out jet black black wings and the swarm flew off in a melody of squawking and screeching.

"Schlatt," Philza responds, his voice is calm, too calm.

Schlatt can't bring himself to respond, only cower a bit more. Truth be told he had no clue what he was thinking when he found himself summoning Philza. Scouring every item and book for incantations that could summon the disgraceful god who chose a life on this planet. The same god that took the challenge of raising three children, one of which ascended, one of which died and returned, one of which is just a kid. The same god that could eliminate anyone or anything that stands in his way if he so desires, but he chooses pacifism, he chooses walking away.

"It's just Phil, drop the 'za' it's unprofessional," The god said seamlessly, each word perfectly distinct but with his voice linking them like kintsugi in the cracked language that they speak.

Schlatt nods, he still can't open his mouth and will anything out.

Phil quirks a brow, "Have I rendered you speechless? I should've left behind the flock, I've been trying to come across as 'just some guy' as of the last century," The slightest tinge of humor is on his voice.

"I," Schlatt barely manages, "I need help."

"You're supposed to be dead, is that not help enough? Even those above me pity your mortality and let you have one more tale, beg for their help not mine," Phil explained as he closed his wings to his back again, taking one step closer to the ram in front of him. He placed a hand under Schlatts chin and tilted until their eyes met, bright blue on chestnut brown, "They control so much more than I can Schlatt, if they desire that your fate is terrible then I can't change that."

Schlatt shakes his head, "It's about my son."

"What happened to Tubbo?" Phils answer comes like ice, sharp as razors and with the smallest undertone of a snarl, "Who hurt him?"

"Dream, he took Tubbo the second I wasn't looking," Schlatt explained almost frantically, "I don't know where he took my son, or if I'll get him back- please, just give me a location that's all I ask."

For a second Phil can feel the count of feathers on his wings double as they creep to his back. The talons he keeps sheathed under gloves grow larger, sharper, and small scales shoot across his hand as pinfeathers sprout. It's reeled back in, he can't save anyone if he's losing control of himself, if he lets the swarm take over. He takes a deep breath, "I'll find him and bring him back for you."

Schlatt nearly drops right then and there, he isn't sure what else to do except for stay silent. He has a million words of thanks he'd like to save but he isn't sure if he can articulate them very well. Instead all he does is ask another question, "What do I owe you?"

"Nothing," Phil answers with sharply, he shakes the unneeded feathers from his wings, "You're lucky I don't want your kid getting hurt otherwise the price would take multiple lifetimes."

"I can't just not give you anything," Schlatt said, he stumbles over his words momentarily, "Is there anything I could do to repay you?"

Phil shrugged, "We'll work out the price when your kid is under a trustable roof."

Schlatt nodded, "Thank you."

"Don't thank me until that green cunt is on his knees begging for mercy," Phil answered with, somewhere underneath sharp words was caring, what that caring was buried under consisted of acid and claws.

-/-/-/-

"What do you want?!" Tubbo snapped at his captor, he writhed in his meager constraints- wrists tied shut and an ankle to either leg chair.

Dream hummed, "Information."

"What sort of information could I give you?" Tubbo asked, voice a little bit quieter.

"The usual," Dream stated nonchalantly as he stepped closer to Tubbo, knife dangling between his fingers.

Tubbo eyed the blade cautiously. He swallowed thickly, "Like what?"

In a second the knife was zipping past his horn. His breathing hastened for only a second as the motion sped past him. He glared at Dream who only laughed, "Priceless." He hummed as he spoke, stepping a little bit closer.

"Fucker," Tubbo murmured under his breath, in that same instant fingers lodged between his jaws and sharp claws dug into the base of his tongue.

"Watch your mouth," Dream growled out, leaning dangerously close to Tubbos ear. The ram gave a hasty nod and when Dream pulled back he spat, a disgusting taste leftover in his mouth.

Tubbo took a breath, "What do you want to know about?"

"Tell me about the nuke," Dream stated calmly, Tubbo seized.

He kept his mouth zipped shut, stared at Dream, and listened. He listened for footsteps, for the hum of machinery. Any sign it wasn't just the two of them, a sign that there was a way out of this mess. He barely caught the faintest sound, akin to a mouse in a vent.

"Well?" Dream asked impatiently.

"Where do you want to begin?" Tubbo answered with calmly, trying to keep his words even. He heard it again, the mice, a little bit louder this time around.

"What you used," Dream said, "How much you used, basic stuff."

Tubbo nodded, "Cool, gimme a minute to try and remember it all though."

"Don't worry," Dream said, "I can wait all day."

---

Then it happened.

A burst of pitch black shot from the pipes, knocking off ventilation grates as it dropped down. A hundred crimson dots mixed with undulating black feathers caused a rather horrifying look. It spilled into the center of the room, deftly avoiding Tubbo, but splashing into the wall. Dream stumbled back as he reached for a weapon, but whatever he tried to throw at it was absorbed into the swarm. It just kept coming closer, bouncing back and forth, a wall of sheer terror in living form- screaming and squawking at improbable decibels.

It corned Dream, he tried to slice through it but it easily mended it's form of a hundred eyes and a thousand feathers in milliseconds. He tried to throw potions at it but when the glass shattered and it absorbed the effect absolutely nothing happened. Even as it came to form something close to humanoid it wasn't close enough for Dreams adrenaline to slow. He reached desperately for anything else to prolong his survival in the wake of whatever horrors had finally come for him.

But with nothing else left to make use of, he threw himself into it. He writhed and screamed but whatever sounds he made were lost in the cacophony of corvidian sounds. Drowning in an ocean of black he could barely register the cluster of talons imitating claws encroaching along his torso at either side. He could only cry out and try to break free on the other side of it all to get out and lock this thing in with Tubbo. He found splinters of wood and easily shattered chunks of diamond floating around him, the swarm having rended those so easily. He could only beg for mercy from the inside of the beast as his fate dawned on him.

And then there was a sickening crunch, and then a loud crack, followed by the gruesome sounds of carnage. All of it was swallowed into a void of screeching and squawking from the swarm and somewhere in the midst of this chaos Phil was thankful for that. Somehow as the swarm subsided Phil could gather his surroundings, and how heavy the blood on his clothing was. He looked down to find a mutilated corpse and glass shards in front of him, clear bites made up the gashes. He turned around to face Tubbo who only displayed a mix of mortification and gratefulness.

---

"Hi," Phil got out quietly, his voice scratched a bit, "Schlatt sent me to come find you, didn't mean to kill him like that though."

Tubbo nodded slowly, "Cool," He barely spoke loud enough for Phil to hear.

Phil slowly took a step closer to Tubbo, keeping his pace practiced until he was sure he wouldn't be lashed out at. He crouched down and undid the ankle restraints first, when he finished those he stood up, letting Tubbo relax his legs. He untied his wrists next, the thick twine coming undone in a matter of moments, Tubbos arms fell to his side.

"Thanks," He got out quietly as he stood up, his balance failed him. He took two shaking steps before he collapsed back, Phil caught him.

"Alright, let's get you home," Phil said gently as he picked up Tubbo.

-/-/-/-

"I got your kid back," Phil said as he let down Tubbo gently.

"Thank you," Schlatt barely managed as Tubbo slung an arm around his shoulders for balance. His attention was swiftly placed on the ram, "How badly did he hurt you?"

Tubbo tried to shrug, "I think my neck is bruised from where he hit me," He brought a hand to press to the base of his neck, it stung a bit.

"We're putting ice on that," Schlatt said, brushing a hand over the bruise, it was already turning purple, "Can you walk on your own?"

Tubbo nodded, "Yeah," He pulled himself off of Schlatt, "I'm gonna go inside.

"I'll be over in a minute," Schlatt said, as Tubbo turned to leave, waving off the comment.

A brief silence washed between Schlatt and Phil.

"So," Schlatt began, "The price, do I owe you my soul?"

"Naw," Phil answered with bluntly, shocking Schlatt just a bit.

"But you're like, the god of death," Schlatt said, forcing his voice from turning to an exclamation- Phil shrugged.

"Don't really care for souls these days, my request is simple," Phil spoke calmly, "If you have room to spare, I'd like to live with you and Tubbo."

"What?" Was all Schlatt could muster in response, his voice thick with shock and confusion.

Phil gave a nervous hum, "I miss living with people, the house is really, really quiet now that it's just me again," There was a hint of a sigh on his voice as he spoke, "I know it's a lot to ask of you, but, I really don't like waking up to silence and going through the day in silence, and falling asleep in silence."

Schlatt scans Phils form for a hint of a lie, "Really?"

Phil nodded, "I could help like, co-parent Tubbo and whatnot, I just don't want to live alone anymore."

"Find by me," Schlatt said, "That's a lot less high stakes than I expected, but yeah I can work with that."

Phil gives a small smile, "Thanks, I'll have to make some arrangements with the swarm first though."

Schlatt shrugged, "If the swarm wants to stick around too then so be it, I think you'd lose a lot of your intimidation points without it."

"I wouldn't bet on it," Phil answered with, that spine chilling ice on his tone again. He slit his pupils just for show, forked tongue snaking between lips and feather count doubling as his wings bolstered in size again. He took off a glove and gestured vaguely to the talons and scales creeping up his arm, "I just like to be 'some guy,' biting Dream in half isn't exactly helpful though."

Schlatt nearly chokes on his spit, "You bit him in half? With a mouth that small? And fangs like that?" Somehow an element of teasing makes it onto his voice.

Phil rolled his eyes, "The swarm, it's rather helpful in making sure I can still be a force to be trifled with," He slipped on his glove again.

"Makes sense," Schlatt hummed in agreement, "I'll go tell Tubbo."

"I'll be back once my arrangements with the swarm are done," Phil said, giving a wave as he turned to leave.

Phil gave a groan of annoyance as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up. Being a light sleeper wasn't ideal, Schlatt was lucky, he was a heavy sleeper. He could sleep through the end of the world whether he wanted to or not and Phil envied that. Not Phil, he finds himself waking up at the sound of a mouse squeaking more often then not; and suddenly living in a house with a sixteen year old again is not doing him any good.

Phil stretched out his wings and glanced around his room, a large amount of bird cages, cat towers, and clothing hooks fill it. A black blob sits upon each one, a member of the swarm, he did a vague count, none of them where gone. He pushes open the door and the lamp light filtering in wakes a couple crows, they don't dare squawk with the glares Phil sends their way. He slowly makes his way to the kitchen to find Tubbo rifling through a fridge, in search of something.

"Tubbo," Phil began, glancing to the clock, "It is six in the AM, go to fucking sleep."

"Making breakfast for Schlatt," Tubbo answered with, pulling out a few eggs, "He like scrambled right?"

"He prefers over easy- I'm getting off topic," Phil said, correcting himself from going off about how Schlatt liked his eggs. He'd been living with them for a few months and to put simply he easily conjoined with the family, "Schlatt doesn't wake up until nine most days."

Tubbo shrugged, "It's Saturday, you know how he is about Saturday hunting, bright and early," The ram quirks a brow. He cracks a couple eggs, "He gets pissy if he doesn't go- especially, if you don't come with us."

Phil paused, "Oh, yeah, I guess it is Saturday, alright, fine," He gave a groan of annoyance, "Make some for me too."

"Obviously," Tubbo said, he paused, a smirk coming to his face, "Dad."

Red instantly rises to Phils face at the accusation, "I'm not your dad, I'm just co-parenting with Schlatt for convenience."

Tubbo gave a hum, "Sure," Phil gives a sigh of relief, then Tubbo speaks again, "Care to explain the dinner dates you've been going on with Schlatt then?"

"I- those, it was a new restaurant," Phil said, clinging desperately to excuses. He didn't plan on waking up only to be accused of getting it on with his faux sons father, but here he is, "I wanted to try out the food, so did Schlatt, a conjoined bill is easier to pay."

Tubbo rolled his eyes, "If you say so."

"I will ground you," Phil threatened, a bit of ice on his tone, Tubbo was used to it at this rate. The slight increase in feather count was not nearly as intimidating as it was before he joined the family to an extent.

"On hunting day? Like hell," Tubbo quipped back with, Phil faltered.

"Well played," Phil spat back bitterly as he took a seat, glancing to the window, barely able to see the beginning of the orange ombre in the sky, "Do you think Schlatts gonna wake up anytime soon?"

Tubbo shrugged, "I'd say by the time these eggs are done he'll be down here with a bow and arrow, ready to make the first breathing thing he sees submit," He keeps an eye on Phil for a reaction to his words, and somehow there's barely any reaction. He turns back to face Phil, "I doubt hunting in boxers is gonna end well, go get dressed."

"Watch your mouth," Phil snarled as he turned to leave, he reentered the room in a black cloak and whatever pair of pants he found first. They were probably Schlatts, too loose but not quite long enough, they fit

"Still no shirt?" Tubbo said, flipping an egg, focusing his attention on the pan instead of Phil, "Whore."

"That's what your daddy says too," Phil muttered under his breath almost venomously, making sure his voice was quiet enough that Tubbo wouldn't hear.

The sound of cloven hooves tapping against hardwood alerted the two of Schlatts arrival, mostly Phil. It was a quiet sound, he didn't wear more than a turtleneck of a chestnut hue and a pair of jeans. Considering he presumably just rolled out of bed it shocked Phil, how do you just wake up and wear denim? He couldn't, it was a welcome change to live with someone who could get their shit together first thing in the morning even before breakfast. Schlatt was still half asleep though, he rested his head on Phils shoulder, arms wrapped around his midsection- Phil could only shoot desperately silencing glares at Tubbo whose smirk grew wider.

"Mornin' Phil, Tubbo," Schlatt greeted, the sleepiness on his voice was palpable.

Phil shuffled his wings a bit so Schlatt wasn't pressed so awkwardly against them, "Did you fall asleep in jeans."

"Maybe," Schlatt answered with, he pressed a curved horn into the side of Phils head. He glanced over to Tubbo, "What's for breakfast?"

"Eggs," Tubbo answered with, sliding a couple onto a plate, "Are we going hunting today?"

Schlatt shrugged, still refusing to move an inch from where he latched onto Phil. He nuzzled a little deeper into the thick fabric of black and jade hues, Phil tensed just a bit. Schlatt gave a hum, "You good Phil?"

Phil nodded a little bit too fast, "Yeah, just slept funny on my wings," He ruffled his feathers a bit to punctuate his sentence, Schlatt pulled away momentarily, allowing the immortal to fix his wings. Then he slumped against Phil again, red shot to his face, he tried to discretely bring a hand to his throat to signal a I'll kill you to Tubbo who was simply grinning. He gave a small inhale, "Did you get enough sleep last night."

"You tell me," Schlatt answered with quietly, barely speaking it loud enough for Phil to hear. He pulled back from Phil and dropped down onto a chair, Phil had to fix up his wings a bit more before taking a seat.

"So," Tubbo begins, sliding a plate to Schlatt and then Phil, he takes a seat promptly after across from the two, "Hunting?"

"I think we're gonna postpone," Schlatt said, "I'm kind of sore today."

"What?! But we postponed last weekend and the weekend before," Tubbo exclaimed, a bit of distress on his voice, Schlatt and Phil shared a glance.

"Next weekend?" Schlatt offered nervously, Tubbo gave a groan of annoyance, resting his head on the table heavily.

"I guess," He spoke into the spruce wood. He lifts his head and takes a dejected bite of egg, "I just, that was our thing until Phil came along."

"Hey now, Phil makes a great addition to this family," Schlatt said, nearly snarled.

"And? You're slacking off, I'm not gonna be seventeen forever, this is your last chance to get in those precious days Schlatt," Tubbo explained, bitterness is held heavy on his voice, "You have a choice- me, your son, or Phil, your fuck buddy whose good at parenting."

Schlatt is rendered speechless.

Phil takes a heavy breath, "Tubbo," He begins calmly, tone devoid of any emotional turbulence, "Go to your room now, I'll be joining you to talk promptly."

Tubbo wants to object but he chooses against it and takes his leave, he brings his plate of eggs with him.

Schlatt gives a heavy sigh, "Fuck, Phil I'm so sorry-"

"It's fine," Phil answered with, he rested a hand on Schlatts back, "Wilbur said shit like that all the time, I got it covered, trust me."

"I guess, probably should've done a better job keeping track of the days," Schlatt said, a somewhat apathetic laugh on his voice.

"Finish your breakfast and try to think of something to make it up to Tubbo, that's what you have to do here," Phil said as he stood up, he stretched his wings as he stretched his arms, jet black feathers fluttered down to the floor.

He stepped with a shaky confidence as he inched closer to Tubbos bedroom door, he heard the door slam shut from down the hall. He didn't bother knocking, Tubbo already knew he was gonna barge in and go on some parental rant. He propped open the door slowly to find Tubbo sitting on his bed holding his head in his hands, puffy green jacket zipped entirely up. Phil sat down beside him and spread out a wing, resting it on Tubbos back.

"So," Phil began, "Did you mean what you said?"

Tubbo shook his head.

"You're still fucking pissed right?" Phil asked, turning to face Tubbo a bit more.

Tubbo nodded, "Definitely."

Phil sighed, "I know it doesn't make a difference but I could go hunting with you."

"It wouldn't be the same, that was what me and Schlatt had, even before Quackity left," Tubbo said, he drew his knees to his chest, "That was our thing, and now you're here and I don't have that as often- it's fucking weird."

"Yeah," Was all Phil said, looking for filler. When he couldn't find any he shut his mouth.

"You're cool though man, thanks for like, not letting Schlatt die or whatever, it wasn't pretty before you set your price for saving me," Tubbo said quietly, a dry, forced laugh came with the sentiment, "I respect you for that if nothing else."

"I know," Phil said, he placed a hand on Tubbos shoulder, "And you're pretty cool too, gave me a reason to actually use the swarm again- thanks for not convincing Schlatt to kick me out."

Tubbo shrugged as he stood up, "And why would I do that?"

"I dunno," Phil said, he gave a hum, feigning deep thought, "Cause you hate the guts of your dads fuck buddy- your words not mine."

"Can't hate you that much," Tubbo said, he awkwardly yanked Phil into a hug which the god took like a cat to water, "You're pretty much my dad at this point."

Phil slowly reciprocated the tight squeeze, none of his kids had grip strength this intense. Felt like Tubbo was actively squeezing the air from his lungs, "You weren't just trying to piss me off earlier?"

"Don't see why I should waste my time on that considering that Schlatt won't get rid of you unless you leave first," Tubbo said, he let go of Phil.

"Now, all of my kids hated this part the most, but you gotta go tell Schlatt you take it back," Phil said, Tubbo gave a visceral groan of annoyance as he was led back down the hall.

"Do I have to?" Tubbo asked, Phil nodded.

"Yep, I doubt that either of us like it when Schlatt is impossibly bummed out," Phil said, "And this sorta shit really messes with him; if it feels like he's slacking off that's because I'm also picking up some of the work load."

Tubbo nodded, "That makes sense."

"Cool, now go make amends," Phil said, using the arch of a wing to shove Tubbo into the kitchen.

Schlatt took another dejected bite of an egg, Tubbo sat across from him, Phil stayed in the doorway blocking it entirely. Tubbo picked at the frayed edges of his jacket hemming, he needed to fix them sooner than later.

"Sorry for what I said, I didn't mean it," Tubbo said, he pitched his voice awry, unsure if he was doing it right. He glanced to Phil and got a nod to keep going, "I miss when it was our thing."

"Still slacking off though," Schlatt said calmly, he gave a heavy sigh as he spoke.

Tubbo paused, "Not really, Phils just doing his job, being your pseudo-husband 'n shit," Phil shot a warning glare at Tubbo.

"We aren't even dating Tubbo," Schlatt said, a little bit quieter than before, "We're just friends."

"If you say so," Tubbo stated, rolling his eyes a bit, "Last time I checked friends don't do... Whatever that previous display was," Tubbo gestured vaguely with his hand as he spoke.

"Friends totally do that," Schlatt answered with, a practiced calm to his words, like he'd gone over it with Tubbo before.

"I have plenty of friends and none of them act that intimate dad," Tubbo shot back, the faintest hint of agitation rested on his voice.

Schlatt quirked a brow, "I never specified how intimate or close we are, close friends do that because close friends know they can get away with it- really close friends do not care, I could throw Phil off a bridge and he'd still live with us afterwards, it goes both ways."

Tubbo had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from going off on a tangent about how stupid that argument was.

"Schlatts right, he could throw me off a bridge but he cares too much to do so," Phil said from the doorway, walking over to lean above Schlatt, hands on the backrest of the chair.

Schlatt leaned back into him, "If you eat my leftovers too many times that may change Phil."

Phil looked down at Schlatt, "What? Really? I thought leftovers were free game."

"Not anymore," Schlatt said, bringing hands to rest at Phils neck, Tubbo had to refrain from gagging at the sheer domesticity of the interchange.

"You two can be domestic husbands somewhere that I'm not eating?" Tubbo said, snide clear on his voice, both Schlatt and Phil glared at him. Although Phils was much more menacing, slit pupils and sclera turning a vibrant yellow.

"Watch your mouth," Phil snarled, claws clipped many times already sharpening in an instant once more and digging into the wood of the chair, Schlatt pressed his thumbs into pressure points gently, turning off the monstrous reflex in Phil like one would with a cat.

"And you need to watch your reflexes, he's your kid too Phil," Schlatt said, holding down on Phils throat until his claws retracted and eyes reverted, breathing a bit of a heave as he forced the feather count down again, "You good?"

Phil nodded, "Sorry."

"It's fine," Tubbo stated, "But if we aren't going hunting then I gotta see if Tommy wants to hang out."

"Alright, don't tell him that you're brothers yet," Phil said, Tubbo quirked a brow.

"Brothers? But to be brothers you two would be husbands," Tubbo said cockily, Schlatt rolled his eyes.

"We co-parent right? And Tommy is Phils kid, so if Phil parents you and at some point in time fully parented Tommy, then ya'll would be brothers," Schlatt explained, once more Tubbo had to refrain from arguing back.

Instead he takes a deep breath, "Alright, I guess that makes sense," He crosses his arms over his chest as he speaks, "I might stay for a couple nights if he's hanging with Wilbur."

Phil shrugged, "Fine by me, more alone time."

"I don't know if it's alone time while I'm here Philza," Schlatt said, lilting his voice in such a way it made Phils wings twitch, a rosy hue rising to his face, "Or are you suggesting I leave?"

"I wouldn't dare Jschlatt," Phil answered with, bringing a hand to rest on one of Schlatts horn, Tubbo didn't even want to ask.

"Now I'm really heading out," Tubbo said, pivoting on a heel to leave as he spoke.

"Stay safe!" Phil called out as Tubbo left the room.

"I will!" Tubbo shouted back.

There was a comfortable silence between Phil and Schlatt as the front door opened and closed.

"Do you think he's gonna be safe Phil?"

"Definitely not."

Philza gave a somewhat heavy sigh as he sat down beside Schlatt, a cup of tea in hand, Tubbo was still hanging out with Tommy. Schlatt leaned into his side, nudging the curve of his horn against Phils cheek affectionately.

"Schlatt," Phil begins with calmly.

Schlatt gives a hum of acknowledgement, "Yes dear?"

Red flares across Phils face at the pet name, "We aren't even married."

"We could be," Schlatt counters with a lazy smirk as Phil wraps a wing around him.

"We could, but we aren't," Phil said, "Probably shouldn't anyways."

"Why's that?" Schlatt asked gently, running a hand along the downward arch of Phils wing.

"I'm immortal," Phil got out quietly, "And you're, not."

"What's your point?" Schlatt asked, watching Phils expression dip like a cat watching a gold fish.

"I'll outlive you," Phil said quietly, "I'll forget you, even if I am wearing a ring."

Schlatt paused, "I know that, but, that won't happen for a long time, and you'll take care of me even when I'm old and frail, won't you Phil?"

Phil nodded, "Yeah, of course I will, but that's gonna start pretty soon."

"Ouch, I'm still young, I have lots of time," Schlatt said, feigning hurt at the statement, "But I guess it doesn't feel like a lot to you."

Phil nodded again, "Not really, just feels instantaneous- like, if I blink you'll be gone, Tubbo will be gone, Tommy, and Wilbur, they'll all be gone too, and it'll just be me and Techno," He sounded a little bit choked up as he spoke, "And I can't just let everyone be immortal even if I wanted too, I doubt the admin would be pleased."

"They admin can suck a dick, you're the god of death," Schlatt stated bluntly, Phil nearly choked on the tea he was tentatively sipping, "You get to choose who avoids it if you're the one who causes it."

"I'm the one who overlooks the afterlife, where all the dead people go, I sit at the gates when my mortal body is asleep and let in all the new people," Phil explained, "It's really a fancy and misleading title. Death herself, she can't be stopped, and she makes a brutal ex-wife, we're friends- but she still doesn't like it when I try and cheat the system for the people I love, she even got the admin to side with her."

"You married death?" Schlatt asked in shock, Phil nodded.

"We divorced a couple millennia back, it was mutual," Phil said, waving off the comment, "Even back then she did most of the leg work, said I was too soft to kill baby rabbits- I am, but it still hurt to hear - and then she decided she needed my help again sometime after Wilbur was born."

Schlatt was still focused on the original talking point, "You married death, and death is a chick?"

"Kristin Rosales, she's a sight to see, you'll meet her when you die if I'm not at the gates," Phil said, "She doesn't let me into her dimension properly very often so I won't get to visit a whole lot, probably a once every hundred to a thousand years sort of thing."

Schlatt nodded, "Right, you'll live on, and I'll die, and Kristin won't let you visit."

Phil nodded, "Yeah, so, we probably shouldn't get married- because I'll outlive you in the mortal realm, and forget your name, and your face, and your voice, and your scent," His eyes were starting to water, "It'd be easier to let go without a ring."

"How am I supposed to remember you when I'm in the afterlife if I don't have a ring?" Schlatt asked hesitantly, watching the shock on Phils face with an almost predatory intent to it.

"You aren't, you're supposed to remember really influential people throughout your life," Phil explained, "You'll remember Tubbo, Quackity, and a couple others, not me-"

Schlatt pressed a finger to Phils lips, silencing the gatekeeper of death with ease. Phil gave the ram a questioning look, "Yes, you, I don't want to forget you, ever- and now that I know I won't have to forget you, I'm gonna ask you one question."

Phil lifted his wing as Schlatt shifted around a bit, "Schlatt, a hundred people have asked me to marry them before, the answers gonna be no."

"Not my question," Schlatt said, "Not yet at least."

"Then ask the damn question," Phil urged, deeply intrigued at the notions of a new question- he's sure he's heard it before, but not from Schlatt.

Schlatt holds out two necklaces to Phil, each on silver chains. One with a tigers eye pendant, and the other a jade pendant, "Don't let me forget you," He thrust the jewelry a little closer to Phil who reluctantly took hold of the tigers eye, holding it carefully, "I was saving the necklaces for later, but now works too- I think they'd work like a wedding ring."

Phil clips on the necklace, the pendent rests easily atop his sternum when he slides it under his shirt. He gives a soft smile, "I'll try my hardest to make a deal with Kristin."

"Thank you," Schlatt managed to get out, clipping on his own jade necklace, attempting at least, "Help?"

"Of course," Phil answered with gently as Schlatt turned his back to Phil, holding up the necklace. Lithe fingers easily clipped the chain into place, when he was done Schlatt leaned onto him.

"I love you Phil, I forget if I've already said that," Schlatt said, a somewhat nervous laugh on his voice as he spoke.

Phil brushed aside a couple chocolate brown strands, "You've said it before, love you too Schlatt."

"Glad to hear the feelings mutual," Schlatt said with a contented hum under his voice, reaching out to ruffle Phils feathers gently.

Loud knocks, really loud, and extremely erratic knocks, shattering their brief moment. Schlatt moved first, Phil followed, stretching his wings once or twice as he followed Schlatt through open doorways. The knocking didn't cease even for a second, only after Schlatt pulled open the door and caught a glimpse of panicked face behind it did it stop.

"What do you want?" Schlatt snarled out as their visitor heaved breaths.

"Tubbo," Quackity managed breathlessly, "Our kid got kidnapped, by Dream," He took a heavy breath, "Help."

Phil pushed ahead of Schlatt, "Where's my kid?"

"Tommy is being held back by Wilbur to prevent him from doing something stupid," Quackity explained.

Phil had to pause, "Tubbo, my kid, where is Tubbo?"

Shock played out on Quackitys face, "Your kid?"

"Our kid," Schlatt corrected, "We're co-parenting, where the fuck is he?"

"Sapnap hunted him down with George, I came here to get you," Quackity explained, "And you two are co-parenting?"

"Not explaining it now, let's go get Tubbo back," Phil said, pushing past Quackity and flaring his wing directly in his face just for show.

"But, when did that happen?" Quackity asked, trying to keep up with both Schlatt and Phil.

"Doesn't matter," Phil answered with promptly, Schlatt placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You don't have to save him this time," Schlatt offered gently, Phil was already brandishing his weapon, he did pause.

"We just had a talk about how you're gonna die before me Schlatt, and how shitty that's gonna be," Phil said, nearly spitting the words, slight venom on his voice, "And now you're gonna go try and beat up the admin to save our kid? I'm not letting that happen, you stay at home and wait patiently for me to return with Tubbo."

Stinging aches hit Schlatt all over, "But-"

"Do it!" Phil snapped before he could stop himself, voice a rumbling crescendo and wings puffing out with an ungodly amount of feathers creeping up his arms. He yanked Schlatts weapon out of his hands, "I don't want you dying on me so soon, everyone else has okay? I want you to live your life, I don't want you to die young," His grip on the weapon shook a bit, "I don't want to lose you, and I wouldn't've cared not even a year ago!"

Quackity opened his mouth to speak but chose against it.

"But here I am, please, just go home, and stay safe," The urgency on Phils tone is infectious, the pleading of his voice makes Schlatt feel tangled up inside.

He takes hold of his weapon once more and Phil shows no resistance, he knows he can't stop Schlatt, "You won't let me get hurt, I'm sure of it," He placed a hand on Phils shoulder, he could feel the visceral shaking, "Right?"

Phil nodded, "Obviously, let's go save our kid and kill that green cunt for good."

"Glad to see we're on the same page," Schlatt said, he gave a brief nod in Quackitys direction, he perked up at the motion, "Lead the way, we have carnage to ensue."

-/-/-/-

They came to a halt at the entrance of an obsidian lined cave, narrowing down into a hall. Bright blue flames lit the way, and property destruction was scattered about the mouth of the cave, a little bit inside as well. Wilbur was holding back Tommy, just barely able to do so, grasping onto his legs tightly as he struggled to stand up and run in.

"They're in there," Quackity said.

"Sapnap and George?" Phil asked.

"They didn't make it out," Quackity said, "That's why I came to get you two."

Phil nodded, "Schlatt, make sure we have what we need, I'm gonna go calm down Tommy."

"On it," Schlatt answered with obediently, it shocked Quackity a bit with how docile he was to Phils command.

"Wilbur!" Tommy practically screamed into his older brothers ear, "Let go of me!"

"You're gonna get killed!" Wilbur screamed back, digging his nails into the back of Tommys legs.

"I don't care!" Tommy answered with, just as loud and aggravated, kicking at Wilbur a bit.

Phil stood over the two of them, "Boys, are we really doing this again?"

Both Wilbur and Tommy snapped from their argument in an instant, frozen in place as they stared at their dad.

"Tell Wilbur to let me go!" Tommy shouted before Wilbur could open his mouth.

"Hey!" Wilbur snapped back, digging his nails further into his little brothers legs, unafraid of the possibility of blood, "Tell Tommy he'll get killed if I do!"

Phil took a deep breath, "Neither of you are going all the way, you'll follow me and Schlatt until we find Sapnap and George."

Wilbur and Tommy gave a nod, the older releasing his brother.

"And then you are to leave immediately and help them get healed up, understood?" Phil asked, he caught hesitation, "Understood?" He spoke it much more sternly.

"Understood," Wilbur and Tommy answered with, helping each other up.

"Good, follow me," Phil said before leading his two sons to the mouth of the cave where Quackity and Schlatt waited.

"I'll stay out here, just in case," Quackity offered.

"Fine by me," Schlatt answered with as Quackity stepped back out, "We're taking Wilbur and Tommy with us?"

Phil nodded, "They leave as soon as we find Sapnap and George."

"Then let's go save our kid already," Schlatt answered with, almost a snarl as he started in, Phil cut in front of him.

The soft blue light did little to light their way in, despite the size of the corridor their foot steps echoed. Whatever torches they brought in didn't help, the material that lined the walls, roof, and even the floor absorbed the light before it could shine very far. An amazing technique really, Phil would applaud it if he wasn't trying to save his kid from someone who should be dead. He's making a mental note to kill whoever brought back Dream, and then meet them at the gates personally to make sure they don't make it into the afterlife.

He's sure that Kristin would understand, they didn't have a kid, but she surely understand the notions of vengeance. The notions of someone getting what was rightfully coming to them, even if what was coming to them is a scar on their soul that'll follow them through each of their reincarnations. He doesn't know it but Schlatt is making a mental note of a similar subject because not many have tried to get between them and Tubbo.

Dream just happens to be the outlier in that statistic, having tried to steal Tubbo more than once.

"Phil," Schlatt got out quietly.

"Yeah?" Phil asked, taking the one turn available.

"I'm killing him," Schlatt said, Phil gave a soft chuckle.

"Not if I do first," There's almost a challenge to his tone, but they both know that Phil will be the one to truly finish him.

Everyone stops at the scent of blood, the sound of panicked murmuring, and the faintly blurred sight of George and Sapnap. Then their paces pick up as they rush over to find George on the ground, sword lodged firmly in his shoulder, he's passed out long ago. Sapnap is trying so very, very carefully to wake him up, he keeps his touches and shakes light- unsure of how close to death George even is.

Wilbur crouches down beside them, getting a closer look at the panic on Sapnaps face, "Breath."

"He's fucking dying!" Sapnap snapped, "How am I supposed to breath?!"

Tommy crouched down on the other side, "Expand your lungs...?"

"Not helpful," Sapnap got out, hands returning to rest on Georges, "He's dying."

"He isn't gone yet," Phil said bluntly, Sapnap swiveled his head to glare, "If you move fast you can go heal him before it's too late."

Sapnap paused, "I might hurt him."

"Hurt him, or lose him," Phil got out, "It sucks, but at least you have a choice.

Sapnap slowly slung an arm around the small of Georges back, the other under his knee and hauled him up. His balance was off with the test of carrying George the entire way back, "You wouldn't get it."

"You can't even begin to believe how much I do," Phil got out quietly, "Tommy and Wilbur will help you get him out, how much further in do we have to go?"

"Not much, one more turn and a barricaded door is between you and Tubbo," Sapnap explained, turning to leave.

Tommy followed right away, Wilbur hesitated.

"Don't die dad," Wilbur managed to get out.

"You know I can't," Phil answered with.

"I know," Wilbur said before turning to leave.

Phil hesitantly took the next step, and the next. His confidence slowly returned as Schlatt trailed behind him, never daring to step in front the entire time. It was just one life, one measly life, Phil had seen so many get lost in all the time he's roamed the mortal realm. But this time it's more personal, and he'll make sure nobody associated with Dream gets a chance at the afterlife if Tubbo is already dead.

Maybe that's overkill, there's plenty of innocent people who've found themselves in contact with him, but he needs to get his point across. Even if that means destroying everything, he's a god, he's allowed to do stupid things from time to time. Kristin wouldn't pleased with all of the new administrations into the afterlife, and she really wouldn't be pleased with having to beg Puffy to bring them all back. For a brief instant Phils mind sticks to Puffy, he wonders how she's been, being the one in charge of reincarnation. She doesn't do it very often, favoring weaving new souls into existence instead of repurposing the old.

Schlatt snaps Phil out of his thoughts, placing a hand on his shoulder. When Phil turns to face him his pupils are already slit, he's blunted nails have turned to talons, his wings are twitching. He's a mess, losing himself to the beck and call of the swarm, "We're at the door," He gestures to the heavily barricaded door, behind it he hears screaming and crashing.

---

That's the final straw.

Schlatt leaps back in an instant when those overgrown wings shift to a thousand crows, stray feathers twirling into birds that engulf Phils form. The door comes tumbling down in an instant, there isn't even a door left, all that remains is dust, and whatever remains of Phil stays still at the door. It partially has Schlatt paralyzed as he leans in through the door way to find Tubbo back into a corner, frantically skittering about as Dream keeps trying to end him. Diamond axe smeared with fresh blood from failed attacks lace it, he goes for it again, rending Tubbos jacket further.

And then the beast launches itself, liquid form crashing into Dream and tugging him under. He surfaces for air easily as it keeps trying to pull him down again, leaving small bites all over his form and tearing his jacket. He hacks through it but it reforms twice as fast as he tries to crawl away. His scream is ear splitting as a set of sheer black fangs bear down on his thigh and yank, flesh tears off and bone only has teeth marks. Behind that porcelain mask tears are spilling down his face, he screams again when that same set of fangs grab onto the bone. One tug to the left and his leg is snapped off entirely, the bones crunch as the swarm gnaws on it briefly leaving Dream to struggling to even move.

Tubbo is hobbling over to Schlatt, stumbling and scared. Schlatt easily holds him up and pulls him past the doorway so they don't have to watch. Tubbo is breathing heavy, head resting on Schlatts shoulder, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Schlatt asked as gently as he could.

"Getting kidnapped, I should've known better," Tubbo managed to get out.

Their conversation is mostly lost to Dreams begging for mercy, cries of agony and any other pitch in between. His mask cracks when the swarm drops him down from where it had him suspended mid air, ravenous maw latching onto his arm. Was he really dropped if he wasn't actually released? Fangs biting until the bones shatter and sinew snaps underneath that delicate human skin. His breathing is ragged, he's shocked he's even managing to keep breathing with all the blood spilling from him.

The swarm lifts him once more, a set of razor sharp talons resting comfortably underneath his rib cage. A small swatch of crows come to shatter his mask, he looks destroyed, ready to die. And then a voice residing in his skull speaks up, a low rumble he can barely understand but hear so clearly- he knows it belongs to the swarm.

"What do you have to say for yourself?"

Dream can't answer, everything hurts too much.

"It's unlike you to die silently, last chance."

Dream musters up as much as he can before spitting the words, "I'm not fucking sorry."

"Wrong answer."

Claws tear into his torso, snapping his spine like it was a twig, they still grasp both halves in place as he screams. And then the swarm squeezes, watching with glee as organs and intestines spilt from either half of Dreams torso. Then he stopped breathing, that was when the fun stopped, that was when it decided it was starved. Starved for blood, starved for death, it cracked it's maw of a multitude of shapes and sizes open and dropped in the still warm corpse. It thrummed pleasantly as it eviscerated the corpse internally, the slightest hint of Phils consciousness felt disgusted- the absolute lack of morals the swarm held reveled in it.

---

"Tubbo, it's fine," Schlatt said, "Shit happens."

"I should've known better," Tubbo repeated, "I just, I should've known better."

"You had no way to know, it's fine, you're fine," Schlatt said, rubbing circles on Tubbos back. He hesitantly glanced inside the room to find Phil laying on the ground in a pile of blood and viscera, it was unsettling to say the least. He let go of Tubbo a little bit, "I'm gonna check in on Phil."

"Okay," Tubbo got out quietly as he leaned against the wall.

Schlatt slowly entered the room before sitting down beside Phil, he brought his hands to preen the unkempt feathers. It garnered a groan from Phil, the avian spreading his wings a bit in response to the touches. He curled into Schlatts leg a bit, he ached all over, probably from the swarm eviscerating a full human.

"You feeling alright?" Schlatt asked quietly.

"Full," Phil answered with.

"Full?" Schlatt echoed back.

Phil nodded, "Full, where do you think the corpse went?" He would've gestured to the splatters of blood and porcelain pieces if he wasn't so lethargic.

"Got it, no dinner for you tonight," Schlatt said, Phil nodded.

He pushed himself up onto his elbows, blood splattered across every inch of him. He gave a sleepy glance to Schlatt, "Carry me."

"I don't think I can carry you and Tubbo at the same time," Schlatt got out nervously.

"Just for a little bit," Phil managed, pleading clear on his voice, "Please."

"I'll try," Schlatt said as he stood up, he heaved up Phil next. The avian gave a discontented groan of annoyance as he curled into Schlatt further.

He started to purr a little bit, "Love you Schlatt."

"Love you too Phil," Schlatt echoed back as he made his way out the door to Tubbo.

Tubbo gave a small smirk at the sight, "How cute, Phil getting carried by Schlatt."

"You should be too traumatized to make quips right now," Schlatt said, Phil nuzzled into his neck and red rose to the rams face, he gave a silencing glare to Tubbo.

"You're just like him," Tubbo said as he followed Schlatt through the cave, "He gets just like you do when you get all touchy feely with him in public."

"Shut up," Schlatt got out quietly, clearly embarrassed, Tubbo gave a single laugh.

"Then stop being so stupid around each other," Tubbo said, "Bust out the wedding ring already."

"Not gonna happen," Phil got out sleepily, "Me and Schlatt don't need to, we talked about it."

Tubbo raised a brow, "So you've even talked about marriage? Please for the love of fuck, let me and Tommy be legally brothers."

"Not happening," Phil said, letting a wing fall loose, "Too much effort."

"We have necklaces instead of rings, they work better," Schlatt said.

Tubbo rolled his eyes, "I'm telling the entire fucking server about your affair if you don't do it yourself."

"Word'll spread faster through a rumor," Phil said, "It'd be easier if you did it for us."

"Then maybe I will," Tubbo said, almost aggressively, in a faux sense of course.

Schlatt smirked a bit, "Then do it, I dare you too."

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desos-records · 8 months

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Chapter 10: Follow Your Spirit

First | Prev / Next

Ghost possession doesn't happen often, but fatality rates are high. Even if an agent does survive, there are the aftereffects to worry about.

After surviving a possession, Lucy Carlyle struggles with recovery, delving ever deeper into the memories of Visitors and, in the process, stumbling into the world of blackmarket Sources.

Meanwhile, George Karim races to learn the truth behind ghost possession in order to protect Lucy and save future agents.

And Anthony Lockwood must face his own past with the London underworld if he wants to save his friends and himself.

35 Portland Row was in a state. This could arguably be said on any day, the three members of Lockwood & Co were not naturally inclined to ensuring that the house stayed orderly—aside from George's own occasional burst of stress cleaning. Dishes piled in the sink until they developed their own ecosystem. Important documents were spread about in the library, susceptible to tea ring stains. Coats and chains and whole duffel bags were often left where they'd been dropped after a case, to be tripped on in the morning.

But Portland Row now looked as though a bomb had gone off. George almost wished that had been the case. Better than getting roughed up and locked in the vault, the contents of the house rifled through mercilessly.

"You two certainly took your time," George said once he'd been freed and they all convened in the kitchen. "What the hell is going on?

"Found your glasses, mate." Lockwood handed them over. Miraculously, they'd somehow been spared from the destruction.

George put them on, intending to start grilling Lockwood about why he didn't seem surprised by the attack on his house, but he caught sight of something under Lockwood's coat that he'd mistaken for a shadow.

"You're bleeding."

"Am I?" Lockwood glanced down. "Damn. I didn't think their aim had improved." Then he smiled and George could've hit him for it.

"What?" Lucy cried, pulling aside his coat and finding the slow stream of red trailing down his side. "Why didn't you say? Sit down! I'll call the—"

She almost reached the door when Lockwood caught her arm. He looked a bit dead-eyed, tired in a way that sleep didn't fix. "Hospital would be a bad idea, Luce. Trust me on this."

"You've been shot!"

"It's a graze. And if it comes to it, I'm rather good with a needle. How about we all sit down?"

Lucy glared at him, but relented, fetching the first aid kit from under the kitchen cabinet. Then it clattered against the tiles as she dropped it and George realized her hands were shaking.

"Here, I'll take that," he said, picking it up for her. "I've put up with him longer, if anyone gets to stab him with a needle, it's me."

Lucy gave him a small grateful smile, while Lockwood protested. "Tea?" she said.

"Yes, thank you." Then George rounded on Lockwood.

"I'm perfectly capable of handling it myself," he said, before George could get a word in. He held his hand out for the first aid kit. "It's been a trying night. Why don't you two go get some rest?"

Lucy gave out a single sharp, bitter laugh while the kettle whistled high.

"Don't be stupid. We're not leaving you to bleed out alone in the kitchen," George said.

For a moment, he and Lockwood stared each other down, silently arguing. Eventually, Lockwood sighed and his shoulders dropped in resignation. He slouched into a kitchen chair, looking exactly his age for once. "Fine. Have it your way."

His coat slid off and he raised the hem of his shirt while George cleaned out the wound—the kitchen suddenly silent except for the soft clinking sounds of Lucy making tea. It felt as though, by swallowing his pride, Lockwood had also taken all the air out of the room.

It turned out to be a graze after all, no organs threatened or messy bullets to dig out. However, it was deep enough to need stitches.

"Shouldn't we get him some… I don't know, pain meds or something before you do that?" Lucy said, now busying herself with toast and biscuits as the tea steeped.

"All we have is ibuprofen and it's a blood thinner."

"I keep a bottle of whiskey for this sort of thing," Lockwood said. "Lucy, could you—"

"Absolutely not!" She cried out in rage just as George said, "Also a blood thinner."

Lockwood threw up a hand. "For God's sake! It doesn't hurt that much. Just get it over with!" Then he paused and seemed to take stock of himself, deliberately slowing his breaths. He closed his eyes. "Please."

"Hold still," George said.

Lockwood didn't cry out or so much as wince while he stitched up the gash in his side, but George knew he lied about the pain. He could feel him shaking.

He could see other scars from other wounds. Some were dark, jagged and gaping, other pale, straight and thin. All agents had their share of scars—George himself had several on his back from an incident in a haunted brewery where he fell two storeys—but this seemed like too many. And these were just the ones he could see.

When the bullet wound had been dealt with and tea, biscuits, and toast distributed, George rested back in his chair and said, "What—the—hell?"

"I don't think now is—"

"A dozen men broke into the house and locked me in the vault. You've been shot. Lucy looks like she's been dragged backwards through a hedgerow. And you're talking like it's just another Tuesday. Now is the only time you get to explain yourself."

Lockwood scowled, but didn't argue. "They attacked us too. They must've been watching the house and saw me leave. And when they didn't find what they were looking for, they waited for me to come back."

"They kept bellowing on about a Source. What Source?"

"Annabel's ring," Lucy said, staring down at her hands as they curled around her tea mug. Then she slipped her finger under a chain around her neck and pulled out the silver glass locket from behind her jacket.

George nearly choked on his tea. "You stole it?"

"Borrowed," she insisted.

He expected Lockwood to berate her for it, but he only smiled fondly. George could've strangled them both, biting back a curse.

"How did they even know about the ring? We only found out it was a Source yesterday."

Lockwood shrugged. "They must have someone at DEPRAC in their pocket. Or maybe one of the agents that responded. They only know that the body wasn't the Source."

"And who's they?"

"I…" Lockwood took a breath and a bite of toast. "Before the agency, I needed money to keep the house. I sold off some artefacts to interested parties. Once I started taking cases, I stopped all that, but some of those parties seem to be under a different impression."

Lucy's eyes went wide. "You were a relicman?"

"No," he snapped. "I wasn't a relicman."

"But you sold to relicmen," George said. "That's highly illegal. Is that why Barnes doesn't like you?"

"Among other things."

"We've put away all kinds of Sources in the last year, what do they care about Annabel Ward? Why didn't they take any from the vault?"

"Publicity. Sources from big cases are worth more. If they had a canary with them, they'd know those Sources in the vault aren't half as powerful as that ring. It wouldn't be worth the effort of lugging the silver glass around."

"A canary?"

Lockwood touched his forehead like he'd suddenly gotten a headache. "They're kids. Like the Night Watch," he said. "Are we done with the interrogation now?"

"Will they come back? Attack us on a case?"

"It's unlikely. We don't have anything they want. Well…" He smiled and gestured towards Lucy. "Not that they know of. This'll be the end of it. You'll see."

George highly doubted it and, when he glanced at Lucy and saw her scowling, he knew that she doubted him too.

#lockwood & co #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #george karim #george cubbins #locklyle #save lockwood and co #fanfic #the hidden archive

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diaryoftheunidropout · 1 year

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DAY 198

Has it really been that long? Where'd all the time go? Even since the last time I updated, a LOT has happened :') today is the 18th of September and at 1PM I'll be starting my first day at my first ever job... wow?

This summer was absolutely CRAZY. Seeing my cousins in Bretagne, the Miraculous movie premiere, London Pride, Good Omens s2, Heartstopper s2, SEEING BIG TIME RUSH AGAIN AND LITERALLY BECOMING A WORLDWIDE GIRL???????? MY DREAM SINCE I BECAME A RUSHER?????????? Wow. Do I even deserve so much good in my life? I hope so. Because I'm really greatful and I hope more good things are coming <3

Just took the time to fill in the calendar my mom offered me as a bday gift last year, because at the beginning of the year I would always write if something special happened a certain day, but I stopped doing it months ago :') So I scrolled through my Ig story archives and my Snap memories and I was able to write down looooots of things and it's making me realize that even though I haven't always been doing well, I've had a lot of good things in my life.

After I came back home from the US, something in me really changed. I've been feeling different. Definitely not like the person I was before depression, but definitely not the person I was these past 3 years...? I think I'm healing. I think being a Worldwide Girl might have triggered something HUGE in my brain because suddenly, I CARE about the future. So much. I care about staying healthy and saving money, and making plans... Most of these plans revolve around Big Time Rush coming to Europe. I'm obsessed with them just like I was back in 2016-2017. Just in a much healthier way when it comes to Logan, though.

I'm just feeling a little stressed out about my new job but I think that's normal! I was very stressed out about going to the US and it turned out to be one of the best things that ever happened to me, proof that being nervous is not a bad sign. Mostly I'm stressed about having to learn so much and discovering a completely new environment but I know I can only be happier than when I was in school/uni, and at least I'm going to have some kind of routine... and I need the money!!! I'm also very stressed out about my exact schedule because there were Saturdays when I'd made plans months ago (like concerts, etc.) but I'm afraid they'll be on Saturdays when I have to work since, as far as I know, I'll work a Saturday out of two. I'm also nervous about how much money I'll have by the time BTR comes to Europe, and if I'm going to be able to get enough days off and money to do the whole tour... I'm just trying to tell myself I'll find a way, somehow. As I said, it's the first time in YEARS I actually think far ahead in the future, like months or years ahead, and it's very much anxiety-inducing because I'm not really used to that anymore lol. I need to chill and take it one step at a time.

Oh also. My relationship with my mom has been kinda chaotic lately, considering she had a boyfriend with whom she broke up recently... it can only get better from now on.

Both excited and nervous for tomorrow. I mean, in a few hours. It's almost 2AM now and I start at 1PM.

Anyway... see ya later! Can't wait to see what the future holds for me (can't believe I'm saying that but I mean it)

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rafaelblackbird15 · 3 years

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Teen Wolf Fic Recs Part 4: Sterek

These are Sterek, Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale fanfictions.

I really love these. They are some of my favourite Sterek stories, and ALL of these are absolutely beautiful. Without a doubt. Send the authors some love, because that's what they've given me and us right here. :)

If there is a problem with any of the links, let me know and I will fix them.

For appropriate reading check the hashtags on the actual fics.

I hope you enjoy these as much as I did.

And check out my other Steter fic recs [Part 1] and [Part 2] and Sterek fic recs [Part 3]

***********

God Brings The Wounded by CallieB on Archive of Our Own

Words: 4938

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

“Jesus,” Stiles says, when he sees Derek for the first time, and feels his face do that thing where it tries to smile. Derek, or the weirdly fresh-faced teenage version of Derek that he is now, doesn’t flinch at Stiles’ exclamation.

He’s too busy flinching at everything else.

Requested by the lovely nohomohomie, who asked for something angsty post-nogitsune.

Has got to be one of my favourite canon teenage/de-aged Derek fics, with beautiful, angsty Sterek, of course.

************

You're Not You by CallieB on Archive of Our Own

Words: 5266

Chapters: 1/1

Part 9 of the Sterek Bingo 2017 series

Summary:

Stiles lifts his head slowly, meeting Derek’s gaze. His eyes… they’re always clever, bright, perceptive, but today there’s something in them that Derek doesn’t recognise. He’s pale, but not defeated. He looks stronger than Derek expected. And unexpectedly, he feels it flash through him in a bolt of absolute, though surprised, certainty.

That's not Stiles.

Written for the Dark!Stiles square on my Sterek Bingo card.

This story is possibly one of the best EVER Void!Stiles stories I have ever read. The idea is complex and fascinating and unique. After I read this for the first time I was left stunned and I kept coming back to it in my mind as well as to read because I couldn't get over the idea. It's beautiful.

***********

Yeah, Pass The Salt, Stiles by CallieB on Archive of Our Own

Words: 3609

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Yeah, pass the salt, Stiles.

They're not particularly inspiring words. Not like the long stream of goo spilling over Scotty's arm. But somewhere, Stiles' soulmate is out there, waiting to say them to him.

If only he could stop thinking about the mysterious hot stranger he met in the woods...

**********

Author: CallieB

This author has 15 Teen Wolf works, most if not all are Sterek. Some of them in particular really hit somewhere special.

**********

Behind Locked Doors by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 11128

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Derek often showed up in his room—at least he used the fucking door now that he knew where the spare key was hidden—and he couldn’t escape people in general in the Jeep since they could see him through the window. His dad was home, and when he wasn’t, there was always the risk of other people showing up.

His bathroom, on the other hand? No, his bathroom was a small room with no window in the middle of the house with a lockable door and no judgement. He could sit in the bathroom for hours, and no one would question it. Was he watching porn on his phone and jerking off? Was he taking a massive dump? Did he have constipation? Was he stitching up the millionth injury of the month in private? Who knew? No one but Stiles!

The locked door at his back felt like a safety net for him sometimes. In the bathroom, he didn’t have to pretend. He didn’t have to smile and wave people’s words off, insist he was fine, laugh and act like everything was okay. In the bathroom, he was allowed to sit on the floor, his expression tight, and his body falling apart on him.

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Author: isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

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Should Have Looked on Craigslist by Akiruchan on Archive of Our Own

Words: 27217

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Derek is rash and self-sacrificing, everything that will one day get him killed. Stiles doesn't want that. He's become too accustomed to a life with Derek Hale in it. To live without, well, it just doesn't seem to be an option.

or...

The five times Stiles' expectations fall short, and the one time he's glad they do.

This is an incredible, slow burn, build of the winding relationship between Stiles and Derek and the world they now live in, side by side. It's wonderful and blessedly long.

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Bless You by Ankiruchan on Archive of Our Own

Words: 3070

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

It all started with a sneeze...

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Lend Me Your Eyes, Give Me Your Heart by Ankiruchan on Archive of Our Own

Words: 3057

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Stiles’ life sucks. He’s honest enough with himself to admit to at least that. More often than not he spends his free time running for his life, saving people from creatures who want to rip his face off, and all around having a distinct lack of self-preservation. It sort of comes with the territory. Not something he can avoid when his circle of friends happen to be werewolves.

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Nobody's Fault But Mine by Akiruchan on Archive of Our Own

Words: 26552

Chapters: 4/?

Summary:

Stiles has always been good at ignoring his problems. Preferring to wait them out until they are nothing but a distant memory. But when a midnight stroll leads to a nasty scratch to Stiles side, courtesy of Derek, Stiles finds that some things just can't be ignored, not that he doesn't try. Better hearing and improved eyesight, that is something he can ignore for now. The sudden urge to touch and smell Derek all the time? Not so much.

This is werewolf!Stiles, and it's one the of the laid back, kind, intense versions that I enjoy very much. Unfortunately, I think it's been discontinued, but I believe even so, these 4 chapters are worth the little heartbreak that comes with the knowledge it may not be finished.

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Author: Akiruchan

This author is responsible for some of the best slow build Sterek stories I've read.

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Lock All The Doors Behind You by entanglednow on Archive of Our Own

Words: 25960

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

He has no idea what you're supposed to say when you find one of your...werewolf acquaintances, completely out of their mind, growling like they're about to see what your insides taste like. There's no handbook for this. Stiles is thinking that if he survives he might write one.

I've come back to this so many times. The relationship is so vulnerable, down to earth and open and kind, extremely kind, which is something Derek really lacks in his life, someone to be kind to him. There's a feeling, somehow, that this is quite natural for them.

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In Case Of Emergency by entanglednow on Archive of Our Own

Words: 1826

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Derek falls through Stiles's bedroom window at ten past midnight.

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By Any Other Name by entanglednow on Archive of Our Own

Words: 33090

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

He doesn't know his name, he doesn't know who he is, and neither does the werewolf he's on the run with. But he's pretty sure they hunt monsters, because they seem to be really good at it.

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I Could Find My Way Back by entanglednow on Archive of Our Own

Words: 6250

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

What's the worst that could happen?

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Author: entanglednow

This author is responsible for so many amazing fics out there. They have 55 Teen Wolf fics, all with really interesting ideas and takes on the characters and supernatural world.

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You want forgiveness (I'll give that to you) by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 2806

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Derek is running from the Alpha, suffering from wolfsbane poisoning and he’s clearly losing it. Why else would he be seeing his mother - and everyone else he might as well have killed himself. But Stiles can’t just let him get what he deserves. Stiles never leaves him behind, even when he should.

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(Fuck you they said) As they threw their threads from their wedding bed by dearericbittle (dutchmoxie) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 96199

Chapters: 9/9

Summary:

First Son Stiles Stilinski just accidentally caused an international incident. And apparently the only way to save human-werewolf relations is to marry him off to Prince Derek of Triskele. Stiles is going to need all of his acting skills to make the marriage look real, because the Prince is kind of a fucking asshole.

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Author: dearericbittle (dutchmoxie)

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fake empire by Poe on Archive of Our Own

Words: 3685

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Stiles hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. He was going to tell Derek. The whole truth of it. He was halfway through when the phone rang. A half-finished sentence, left hanging in the air as his life crumbled around him.

(or: Stiles gets so, so lost. But he finds himself again.)

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you all over me by Poe on Archive of Our Own

Words: 3705

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

The thing about Stiles is, Derek thinks, is that he has no idea how enthralling he truly is. He’s easy to overlook, right up until the point he isn’t, and at some stage, Derek started looking, and now, it’s all he can do.

(or: the one where the pack is happy, healthy and alive, and Stiles and Derek are sort of inevitable)

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Author: Poe

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For If Dreams Die by veritas_st on Archive of Our Own

Words: 24169

Chapters: 8/8

Summary:

“I had a dream about a boy last night,” Mischief says through a mouthful of pancakes. His dad points the spatula at him and he swallows before he says anything else. “His name was Derek. He called me Stiles. I want to be called that from now on.”

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Author: veritas_st

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About Today by rufflefeather on Archive of Our Own

Words: 8901

Chapters: 1/1

Part 1 of the inside these arms series

Summary:

Stiles is having the worst day of his life and it keeps happening.

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Until Tomorrow by rufflefeather on Archive of Our Own

Words: 9016

Chapters: 1/1

Part 2 of the inside these arms series

Summary:

Derek's worst nightmares didn't prepare him for this.

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Let it be me by rufflefeather on Archive of Our Own

Words: 1495

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

After everything that happened, Stiles goes to see Derek.

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Even the stars they burn by rufflefeather on Archive of Our Own

Words: 5770

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Derek finds out quite by accident what makes Stiles shut up. If he reveals along the way that he didn't always carry this darkness around, then that's entirely Stiles' fault.

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Solstice. by rufflefeather on Archive of Our Own

Words: 4119

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

It's the first total lunar eclipse during winter solstice in three hundred and fifty years and Derek has no idea what's going to happen.

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Author: rufflefeather

This author has some intense, sometimes heartbreakingly endearing, and wonderful Teen Wolf fics.

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Hear The Wheels As They Roll by crossroadswrite on Archive of Our Own

Words: 44919

Chapters: 2/2

Summary:

“You can’t be here. This is private property,” someone calls out and for some reason that voice sounds painfully familiar.

When it hits him why, Stiles almost chokes with the realization, “Derek Hale,” he says, unbelievably happy because he remembers Derek when they were young.

Derek looks grumpier, sadder, angrier. Stiles can’t really fault him for that. He also looks surprised that Stiles knows who he is. He squint/glares suspiciously at him, his nostrils flare for a second before he widens his eyes almost dramatically.

“Stiles,” he says quietly, like he can’t really believe it.

Stiles beams, “Yeah, you remember me!”

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Author: crossroadswrite

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134 notes · View notes

chaos-event-horizon · 3 years

Text

Been thinking a lot about that one post, about the internet being full of ghosts, and about how things are saved on the archive of the Way back Machine... But there's so much we miss. So much we don't get to archive because we don't know when it will be lost. So many ghosts that are only half way there now, doomed forever to be incomplete in any place but our memories.

When I was in middle school and literally just learning to read fics on FFnet instead of Quizilla, I became internet friends with a user named Igor Lollipop. Awesome person, with really fun and creative KH fics that actually predicted a LOT of plot points that showed up in new games like KH3, all the way back in the late 2000s. A few years ago, she deleted almost all of her old kh fics and just... Disappeared. Her FFN account is there, but inactive and half empty. The links to her DA and Tumblr no longer function. I haven't spoken to her in years, because I could never find the right trail of crumbs to try to get back in touch. It's... honestly really sad. Because I always thought she was SO cool and reading her work and speaking to her as a 13 year old really shaped how I tell stories and view the medium of writing. I've always wanted to thank her. I wouldn't be the man and writer I am today, if she hadn't spoken to the little girl that was obsessed with the Fatal Crest keyblade and Riku's and Axel's redemption stories. I think a lot about how grateful I am that a cool high school kid like her bothered to give some middle schooler the time of day. Sometimes I wonder if the reason she disappeared is because she isn't "she" anymore, and I'll never even know to look for the person that exists now, just like I'm sure she has no idea I'm no longer "she" either.

Just a few minutes ago I finally had the guts to check the way back machine... And some of those fics are there, but others lead to error pages. Some are whole, and some only have the first few chapters. But I can stare at this half-formed ghost now, and somehow be more sad than I was before I looked. I hope Igor Lollipop is okay somewhere. I hope that this internet ghost is just a case of being missing in action due to growing up and wanting to step away from this kind of creativity and not... Something worse. I hope Igor comes back someday, or reads my stories and finds me. Because honestly I've always wanted to leave her in the acknowledgments of one of my books.

The internet is an unwitting graveyard, and I wish there was a way to take better care of all these memorial stones that can no longer be fully read.

#rian rambles

11 notes · View notes

pumpkaaboo · 3 years

Text

Here's chapter 1 of the Revolutionary Girl Utena/Neon Genesis Evangelion crossover I've been working on with @nerd-dot-jpeg! It's been really fun to work on so far! Full text under the cut.

“Attention, due to the special state of emergency declared for the Toukai region and the surrounding mid-Kanto area, an evacuation has been ordered. Please proceed to your designated shelter immediately.”

Utena stretched nervously, bouncing into a lunge with her left leg forward, then her right, before standing up straight and pulling her arms to the side one at a time, relishing in the weight of her thick black jacket. She grunted with exertion, then sighed, leaning back against a nearby telephone pole. “She’s late…”

For once, the city’s streets and monstrous buildings of concrete, glass, and steel were silent. No cars honked in tune with the screaming of their drivers caught in a traffic jam, no neighbors shouted at each other from their windows, and all the speaker systems that usually blared a cacophony of arguments for why Utena needed countless products she had never heard of only repeated that same toneless message in perfect sync. Not even the pigeons were around to make noise.

“Attention,” the message looped, “Due to the special state of emergency declared…”

Utena pulled her long pink hair into a ponytail. Then she took it out. She kicked an empty soda can into the air, bouncing it between her feet. She made a game out of not letting it hit the ground, before finally sending it soaring to a perfect landing in a nearby trash can. She gave herself a moment to celebrate her shot, but the excitement faded quickly, leaving only a gnawing anxiety behind. Then she put her hair back up.

“Maybe she got delayed by the Angel… I should be out there, doing something… I came all this way to help, but I’m useless now!”

With a growl of frustration, Utena sprang back to her feet and started doing lunges again.

Suddenly, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She whipped around, and met the gaze of a girl with dark skin and long violet hair that cascaded down to her waist. Her green eyes seemed to almost glow in the afternoon light, and she stood perfectly still in the middle of the intersection, the heat distortion causing her form to waver like a mirage, a trick of the light. Something about her seemed familiar, somehow.

For some reason, she reminded Utena of a doll.

Perhaps it was the way her arms hung limply, languid, at her sides, perhaps it was her empty expression, perhaps it was the fact that Utena had been staring at her, frozen, for at least twenty seconds and she hadn’t blinked-

“Attention, due to the special state of emergency-”

Utena jumped, the announcement snapping her out of her trance. She glanced up at it, then back at the girl, who hadn’t moved. She took a step forward. “Hey-”

You need to get to an evacuation shelter, she wanted to say, it’s not safe here, but she was cut off by the sounds of a revving engine and the screeching of tires against pavement as a bright yellow car skidded to a stop in front of her, almost tipping over itself in the process.

The driver’s-side door opened, and a woman in sunglasses and a red military jacket leaned out. “Sorry to keep you waiting! Utena Tenjou, right?”

Utena blinked, then nodded. She stood on her toes, leaning to the side of the car to try and catch a glimpse of the girl again, but the intersection was empty save for the steaming tire tracks and smell of burnt rubber.

“Something wrong?”

“Nothing I just… I thought I saw someone.”

The woman followed Utena’s gaze, then shook her head. “Well, whoever it was, they must have left. I hope they get to a shelter in time… You should get in, by the way. I hate to rush you, but, well… unforeseen circumstances and all that.”

As if on cue, a thunderous boom rang out from somewhere in the distance, as a shockwave rippled across the city. Utena stumbled, catching herself on the car. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry I had to make you come all this way at such a time… it’s rotten luck, really.”

The woman grinned. “Don’t worry about it. I’m Misato Akagi, by the way, and I’ll be your commanding officer from here on out.”

Utena nodded, climbing into the passenger’s seat and buckling her seat belt. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Akagi.”

Misato groaned. “Please, Ms. Akagi is my wife. You can call me Misato.” She took in Utena’s poorly-disguised shock and laughed as she pulled out of her “parking space”. “Let me guess: first time you’ve ever met a real live gay person, huh?”

“I- well I mean- I’d heard of- and of course there must have been some that I just didn’t know they were- but-”

“Don’t worry about it. Just treat us like you would any other couple and we’ll get along fine.”

Utena nodded. “Got it, Ms. Misato.”

“Hey, you’re getting it! By the way, I need to make a call now that I have you, but is there anything you need to say first?” Utena shook her head. “Great, this’ll just be a couple minutes.”

Utena took this as her cue to tune Misato out and stare out the window. Just over the mountains, she could see a couple of silver dots moving through the sky.

“Hey, Ritsuko, it’s me. I have the Sixth, and we’ll make it to the car shuttle train in about twenty minutes, assuming the Angel doesn’t fall right on top of us, of course. Make sure it’s ready.” Some muffled words came through the speaker, but Utena couldn’t make them out. “Of course I don’t doubt you, I just wanted to check to be safe… oh, and make sure Ohtori knows we’re on our way, too. He’s been quite vehement about making sure this one gets to HQ ASAP. Love you too, see you soon, bye!”

Misato hung up the phone with a loving sigh, her eyes taking on a relaxed softness as they returned to the road. Utena glanced at the phone, then back at Misato. “Your wife?” she asked.

“The one and only Ritsuko Akagi, the sharpest mind this side of the Andromeda galaxy. God, I love that woman.”

I can tell, thought Utena. Now that she’d had a bit of time to get accustomed to the idea of two women being… together, she could appreciate what the romance had clearly done for Misato. She fought back a pang of envy at the adoring expression on Misato’s face. Maybe someday, when I find my prince…

They drove in silence for a few minutes, barring the occasional shockwave from the battle with the Angel raging on in the distance. A blinding light cast the entire valley they were driving through into shadow, but it was gone as quickly as it came, leaving nothing but a plume of smoke behind.

Utena shifted in her seat. “I hope the pilot’s okay…”

Misato grimaced. “It’s Saionji-san this time, he’s tough, he’ll be fine,” she said, unconvincingly. The silence, which before had been uncomfortable, was growing unbearable. “So!” Misato said, clearly in a desperate attempt to break it. “From what I’ve read in your file, we actually have a lot in common!”

“Really?”

“Yep! Antarctica, Second Impact, right?”

Utena stared. “You too? I didn’t realize anyone else…”

“As far as anyone knows, the two of us are the only survivors, and we were both kids whose parents worked there. Kind of a weird coincidence, don’t you think?”

“Definitely. Um, if it’s not too forward of me to ask, how long were you…?”

“Oh, I wasn’t in cryostasis like you were, so I didn’t lose any time. Luckily, the protective capsule my dad put me in got found floating out at sea before I died of dehydration, but as a result of my experiences, I was unable to speak for several years.”

“Oh.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it. It was a long time ago, and I’m totally fine now!” Misato flashed Utena a grin. “What about you? What’s your story? If you feel comfortable sharing it, that is.”

“Um, this is going to sound kinda silly.”

“Don’t worry about it! This is a bonding exercise, anything goes.”

“Well… it was a prince.”

“Wait, what? What was?”

Another shockwave tore through the car, stronger this time, or maybe they were just closer to the source. Utena cried out in alarm, and she could see that Misato’s hands had tightened on the steering wheel.

“After the wing my parents were in collapsed, but before the big explosion, there was a prince who came to me. Like, right out of a fairy tale. He was shining, and he smelled like roses. He told me to never lose my strength or nobility, even when I grew up, and then put me in the pod and sealed it. Um, but my memories of that day are pretty fuzzy, so I don’t really know where he came from or… anything else.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it, seven years in cryostasis will do that to you.” Misato flashed Utena a reassuring smile.

Utena returned the smile, and then, emboldened by Misato’s encouragement, continued. “Well, after that, I decided that I wanted to become a prince who saves people just like he did for me, so I started dressing like a boy, and I adopted a chivalrous lifestyle… and well, here I am now.”

Misato’s eyes shone. “That’s so cool! It really gives me hope, you know, that people still choose to be brave and kind to each other, even after everything… oh, and by the way, the school you’ll be attending has a mandatory dress code, but one of the perks of being an Eva pilot is that you get to wear whatever you want, so you won’t have to fight the teachers on the whole uniform thing.”

“Really? That’s a relief.” Utena rubbed her fingers absentmindedly, protectively, against her jacket’s thick sleeve, enjoying the texture. “My last school had this crazy guidance counselor… I swear, you put one toe over these invisible lines people made up about what boys and girls can and can’t do, and everyone loses their minds.”

Misato winced. “Tell me about it…”

“Oh! Oh right, of course you’d know all about that-” Utena flailed around verbally once more, suddenly remembering Misato’s… situation. “Sorry, I just forgot-”

“Hey, no worries. I guess you could say we’re birds of a feather in a lot of ways, huh?”

“...Yeah, I- I guess we are.”

“By the way, how would you feel about-”

Whatever Misato was about to say next was cut off by another shockwave, this one even stronger than the last. But this time, instead of dissipating harmlessly, it was followed by an avalanche of boulders thrown into the air from when a nearby mountain had- oh dear god, it had exploded.

Misato shouted with alarm and slammed on the brakes, just barely avoiding a crash with the boulder in front of them. Several more impacted with the road behind them, trapping the car right where it was. A roar shook the mountains, and the pair slowly turned their gazes toward the source.

There was an Evangelion standing there in a combat stance, prog knife in hand, its metallic chassis gleaming blood-red in the harsh afternoon light, with green and gold accents shimmering like stars through the heavy smoke rising from the ashes of what used to be a mountain. And standing across from it…

“That’s an Angel?” Utena asked, horror keeping her voice from rising above a whisper. Misato gave a terse nod.

The thing was titanic , almost half the size of the mountain that it and the Eva had just wiped off the face of the earth. It had six sinewy arms and no legs or head, and a red orb portruded from its back. It roared once more from its many gaping, salivating jaws, one at each shoulder and probably several more where Utena couldn’t see, before making another charge at the Eva. The massive robot sprang into action, dodging the Angel’s hands and slashing at it with its prog knife again and again, but was repelled each time by some sort of shimmering orange field.

“I… I’d seen the videos, but…”

Misato didn’t take her eyes off the fight. “Nothing can prepare you for the real thing. I’m sorry you had to find out like this. We need to get out of this car; it’ll be of no protection for us if either of them hurls something — or, god forbid, themselves — over here.”

Utena nodded with agreement, and together they exited the car and climbed on top of a nearby boulder, hoping for a better vantage point. Utena pulled her knees to her chest. “So that’s gonna be my duty next, huh?”

“If we survive this…” Misato’s voice was barely a whisper; she didn’t seem to have noticed that she had spoken aloud. “You’ll be added to the rotation of pilots for Unit R05, yes.”

“Ah.”

They sat together in silence for a few more minutes, watching the fight. The combatants seemed to be at a sort of standstill, with the Angel unable to pin down the Eva for long enough to bite into it, and the Eva unable to pierce the Angel’s strange orange shield.

Misato’s eyes narrowed. “Saionji’s sync rate must be down, if he can’t get through that A.T. field. Argh, I knew we should’ve prepared Miki instead, but he insisted-”

The Angel got a hit on the Eva's face.

There was a moment of sudden, deafening silence.

And then the Eva screamed.

Giant steel-plated arms grasped at its head, metallic and organic screeches blending together. Blood-red spikes shot out of the chassis, fracturing it in several places. Misato cursed and whipped her phone out of her pocket, hastily pressing a few buttons. The face of an intense-looking blonde woman popped up on the screen, with a white hospital room in the background. “He’s been the pilot for too long, psychological contamination is setting in! R05’s going berserk!” Misato shouted.

“We know that!” the other woman hissed.

“So what are our options?”

“We’ll have to shut down R05 and send D10.”

Misato sucked in a breath. “No… Anthy’s still injured! She can’t pilot in her state!”

“Do you have a better plan?” the woman shot back.

MIsato glared at her feet.

The blonde woman turned to her side. “That’s it then. Anthy, you’re being deployed.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Utena gasped in horror as a wheeled gurney came into view of the camera. There was a girl on it-the same girl she had seen in the intersection, but her purple hair was curled into a tight roll all the way around her head, and she wore a pair of round glasses, and almost every inch of her skin was covered in bandages, some of them already showing red with blood soaking through. The girl seemed to mentally steel herself, before sitting up with a soft cry of pain and slumping against the blonde woman’s side, panting.

“No!”

All eyes turned toward Utena.

“I’ll pilot the Eva! That’s what I’m here for, right? You can’t make her do this!”

Misato met the blonde woman’s eyes. “...Could that work?”

She thought for a few seconds. “If we perform a full shutdown of R05, we could buy the Sixth about thirty seconds to get into the entry plug before it restarts itself and resumes its berserk rampage. Of course, that would be thirty seconds of total vulnerability…”

“We could distract it by sending military jets to bomb it,” Misato added.

“That could work… but there’s still the risk of the Angel realizing what we’re trying to do, or a stray bomb hitting the Sixth.”

“Then let’s leave it up to her. Utena, are you sure you want to do this?”

Utena hadn’t broken eye contact with the strange girl. Those green eyes, shining with pain and fear and despair...

“I’ll do it.”

The girl’s eyes widened with shock and, perhaps, a spark of hope.

Misato closed her eyes. “That settles it, then. Ritsuko, I hope you’re prepared to line everything up quickly, because we’re going to need that time. Utena, I’m going to need you to watch R05 closely. Try to predict where it’s going to fall, because you’re only going to have thirty seconds to get into the entry plug, where its spine meets its neck. Once you’re in there, you’re going to find Saionji unconscious in the cockpit. He’s wearing a pair of triangular metallic hair clips-those are the neural interface, you’ll need to clip them to your own hair, as close to your head as possible. Got all that?”

Utena nodded, her stance tense with determination. “Good. After that… Well, from what I’ve heard, piloting an Eva is sink-or-swim. There isn’t really any advice I can give you, since I’ve never done it myself… so try to swim. Good luck.”

Misato returned to her phone and started barking orders, and Utena slid off the rock towards where the battle was raging on. The spikes piercing out of R05’s chassis had started dripping a red liquid that steamed when it hit the ground. The metal at its shoulder blades bulged and cracked, and she could see an eerie purple light shining through the fissures.

One drop of liquid hit the Angel’s hand, and its howl of pain shook the entire valley. The hand melted away completely, leaving a stump at the wrist. The spots on the ground where the melted flesh had landed turned green, and if Utena looked closely, she could see thorny vines growing out of them.

Utena returned her attention to the Angel. Maybe, without its hand, we have a chance… her thoughts were cut off when the Angel flexed its arm, and two more hands grew from the stump. Oh. It can do that. Okay. The Angel screeched from all of its mouths, and as R05 lunged at it, caught the mech’s arms with two hands each, and began scrabbling at the Eva's chestpiece with its free arm.

With a keening cry, more spikes shot out of R05’s chest, catching the Angel’s shoulders and causing it to stumble back. The Eva took a few steps backward, panting. There was a sickening crack , and Utena could see that the fissures in its back had grown a bit larger, the purple light spilling out a little bit brighter.

Misato cursed. “Its wings are about to erupt! Ritsuko, we need those reinforcements now! ”

“They’re on their way!” And sure enough, Utena could hear jet engines approaching rapidly, Something streaked toward the Angel, and an explosion rang out. The Angel stumbled forward and whipped around to face the squadron of fighter jets that were flying towards it. It let out a roar, and sprinted away from R05.

“Utena, go! ” Misato shouted as the Eva, seemingly about to charge after the Angel shuddered to a halt, then collapsed onto its side. Utena sprang into action, sprinting towards R05 before it even hit the ground and vaulting onto its wrist, before climbing up the arm. She pulled herself up onto its back and began making her way towards the entry plug as quickly as she could, taking care to avoid the red spikes, which she could now see were black at the base.

Another explosion from the Angel’s battle with the jets rang out, and Utena cried out in alarm as she fell into a crouch, clinging to one of the fissures in R05’s armor to keep from falling off. It was emanating some sort of strange energy, and Utena’s hands were starting to go numb. She pushed herself back to her feet, wincing as she tried to massage the feeling back into her fingers, and kept going.

She had just barely reached the entry plug when a shudder ran through the Eva, and it began to move its arms into position to push itself back up. Utena gulped, then twisted the release on the emergency escape hatch on the entry plug and slipped inside, shutting it tightly behind her.

And not a moment too soon, for an instant after the hatch was sealed, she was suddenly vertical, flung forward into empty space. Then she hit some sort of uncomfortably warm liquid, and didn’t even have time to gasp for breath before she was submerged. She coughed and sputtered, but after a few seconds, realized that she could breathe in the liquid almost as easily as air. It was orange, and transparent, thicker than air or water but not gelatinous, and it smelled like salt, with a faint hint of something acrid and sickly sweet. Fighting down a wave of disgust, Utena swam deeper into the entry plug, towards where she could see a chair suspended in the liquid.

Sure enough, just as Misato had said, there was a boy floating there, unconscious, his dark hair swirling around him like a kelp forest, with the triangular neural interface clips attached close to his scalp. Utena gingerly undid the clasps, then with both clips clutched in her hand, shoved the boy (Saionji?) up away from the seat. She settled into it, and somehow, the chair seemed almost made to fit her narrow frame.

Alright, R05 , Utena thought, it’s just you and me now. Moment of truth. With a deep breath, she affixed the clips to her own head.

She was enveloped by the scent of roses.

A heartbeat later, she was nearly bowled over by a wave of sensation and pain. The walls of the entry plug around her flickered , and suddenly displayed the scene of the battle, as if she were seeing through R05’s eyes. She could feel the spikes protruding from the Eva's body just as though it was her own, along with waves of pressure pounding at her shoulder blades.

Utena couldn't suppress a cry of agony, and she curled up in her seat. She could see R05’s movements jerk to a halt as it adjusted to this new connection. Emotions tore through her, somehow more intense than they were normally. Pain, confusion, fear… familiarity? Something about this, about being so close to this monstrosity of steel and fluid felt… right , somehow. Forcing herself upright, Utena reached out and stroked the wall of the entry plug.

“Hey, it’ll be alright,” she said, in the most soothing voice she could muster, “I’m new here, and I don’t really know how to do this, so we’re going to have to work together, okay?”

The Evangelion had stopped moving. It stood at attention, and even though Utena knew on an intellectual level that it was just a robot, it almost seemed… hopeful? “I know it hurts, I’m so, so sorry. Please, just work with me here and it’ll be over soon, I promise.”

Utena felt a ripple of some emotion — was it acceptance? Relief? — and then, suddenly, the pressure at her shoulder blades receded, and the limbs of the Eva became her own. Utena smiled gratefully. “Thanks, bud. Now let’s go kill an Angel.”

Together, they turned their attention back to the fight. Two of the planes had crashed to the ground already, a third was missing with no sign of where it had gone, and the Angel stood on four of its arms, the other two flailing wildly into the air, occasionally extending far past where its bones should allow and requiring a plane to make a hasty dodge to avoid it. “We need to get it to leave those planes alone. Can you do that?”

As if in affirmation, Utena felt her attention directed towards R05’s wrist. A small gun was embedded there; not strong enough to do any real damage to the Angel, but enough to distract it enough to give the planes enough time to retreat. She lifted R05’s arm and fired.

The shot hit the Angel right at the edge of one of its mouths. The thing stiffened, and turned towards them. “Hey wait, how does it see us if it doesn’t have any eye- AH!” Utena’s sentence was cut off by a scream as the Angel charged them, slamming into R05’s chassis and knocking them both back. One of its shoulders collided with the Eva’s forearm, and she gasped in pain as its swordlike fangs dug in. It’s not real , she tried to convince herself desperately, as she felt the fibers of her muscles severed and teeth grinding against her bones. It’s just feedback, it’s not your pain…

But it was R05’s.

Machine or not, R05 felt pain.

A newfound determination welled in Utena’s chest. I can’t let this continue, she thought. I’m fighting for both of us, now.

She clutched the prog knife in her free hand and drove it upward. It crashed into the orange forcefield, sending splinters of pain up Utena’s arm, but she kept pushing. She felt a pulse of energy shoot out from R05’s core, and suddenly, the knife’s blade slipped through the field, right into the monster’s shoulder.

The Angel howled in agony and released her, but Utena didn’t retreat, instead springing back to (her? The Eva’s?) feet. She grasped the knife in both hands and brought the blade down on the orb in the Angel’s back again and again, until she felt something crack underneath the point. She dug the knife deeper, and the orb suddenly lit up, brighter than the sun—

She and R05 were thrown back by the explosion, they hit the side of a mountain, their heads impacting painfully against the rock, stars danced before their eyes—

It smells like roses, Utena thought.

Then there was nothing but darkness.

#revolutionary girl utena #rgu #neon genesis evangelion #nge #shoujo kakumei utena #sku #utena tenjou #anthy himemiya #utena x anthy #misato katsuragi #ritsuko akagi #utenanthy #my writing

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wheredostarsgowhenyoudie · 3 years

Text

I know of a heart like yours.

The sickening sound of a heart being crashed

The animated laughter that sounded demented

The shivers and chills that tear from morning to night, then back again.

I know everything, kid.

I know how it feels to be breathing, but feel like the dead.

To have your eyes open and be reminded of what's no longer there

To miss someone so bad, they keep you lost in dreams

You can't hide anything from me.

I've been there.

I'm still there.

"What happened to you, kid?" You ask, and I stare.

How could I answer that without breaking?

Your haunted eyes pierce mine. The pain in them was so like my own, that I would have lost my footing if you weren't holding me.

I search for whatever strength was left inside of me, but the tears still flowed.

"You made me lose you."

CHAPTER ONE - WHO AM I TO YOU?

Sometimes the worst distractions do not come from the outside. They come from within you, and nothing anyone can do or say can pull your attention away from the invisible storm that only you can feel.

Peter Parker's heart is about to explode into a billion pieces of combustible dust. His head hurts. His throat feels dry and he could swear his saliva tastes like gravel in his mouth. His shoulders are bent and his legs and feet are firmly stuck to the ground, the weight of everyone's expectations keeping his whole body still, too still that not even Happy's murmured "Are you okay kid?" can bring him back out of the orchestrated walls created by his own mind.

He stays rigid, head bowed and eyes unblinking and blurry with unshed tears.

Blinding camera lights keep flashing all around him, the reporters rapidly firing their questions without pause. Pepper, Happy and Rhodey and the SI security team try their best to pacify them, but their efforts are in vain.

"Were you aware that Tony Stark planned to make you his successor?"

"What does it feel like to be the legacy of the saviour of the universe?"

"Mr. Parker, what are your plans for the future of SI?"

"Are you planning to be the next Iron Man?"

"Before the reading of Tony Stark's will, no one's ever heard of Peter Parker. Can you tell us why?"

"Why did Tony Stark hide you from the world?"

"Who are you to Iron Man?"

"How did you know Iron Man?"

"Why did Tony Stark choose you as his successor?"

"Do the Avengers know about you?"

"Peter, Peter, come on! Kid, we need to go," Rhodey's voice was pleading as he tries to usher them out while Happy shields them with his body.

Pepper urges the crowd to give them a path, going as far as to threaten them with lawsuits but they wouldn't even bulge.

Peter stays frozen through all the commotion.

Every breath feels like Thor's hammer plunging straight into his chest. Every second feels like an eternity too long. It would have stayed until…

"Mr. Parker, do you intend to follow your pseudo father's steps?"

Peter drew a gasp then, to everyone's shock and excitement.

His chin lifted from being glued to his chest, and his head turned to the reporter who asked.

The crowd quieted and they all waited in stunned silence as they were greeted with his red brimmed eyes, tears still fresh and pouring down his cheeks.

None of them expected the hollow laugh that came out of him.

How could they?

They couldn't possibly know that all these are news to him.

Peter knew nothing, thought he was nothing more than an annoying protégé to the man who apparently saw him as a son.

Peter didn't even know Tony Stark cared about him that way. He'd always let himself believe the man had only acted out of pity.

But now he knows, and he wanted to scream at how unfair it is to be told all these after the man had died.

He died for you.

He invented time travel because of you.

He risked it all for you.

He wouldn't have died if it weren't for you.

The voices inside his head are back with vengeance and Peter swayed and would have fallen without Rhodey there to steady him.

"You're going to be alright kid. We're going to bring you home safe and sound," the iron patriot promised in the same soft tone that everyone who knows his true relationship with Tony had been using since the end of the Infinity War.

Peter nodded but didn't speak. He could tell Rhodey believes his words, but Peter doesn't.

All his life, Peter's never really been a good liar. But this lie, even just thinking it is too much. He just couldn't.

"To Peter, my son…" the lawyer had said back in the boardroom as he read the last will and testament of Anthony Edward Stark.

"…I leave all my techs and Stark Industries, the latter to be received when you've graduated college and under the mentoring of my wife, Pepper Stark…"

"You back with us kid?" Happy's voice asked him this time, and he blinked to see that they had somehow managed to get him inside the limousine.

Peter bit his lip so hard, he tasted blood.

How could he be alright?

And where even is home?

He didn't even know he had one since May died. He felt barely alive when Tony took him in to live in the Tower. Even then, it had taken a while and a lot of angry outbursts from him, and patience from the man before Peter finally started to feel like he could build up the broken pieces of his life again. And then the fucking Infinity War happened and now…Now.

The glass shatters.

The car screeches to a halt.

Peter had punched the window, glass shards embedded in his hand when he pulled it back. Pepper shrieked in horror, while the men cursed.

Happy was yelling to get him out for some air, but Peter couldn't hear them, too busy having a panic attack.

"Breathe kid. Breathe with us," Rhodey encouraged. "You can do this. Just like Tony taught you, Peter. You got this kid. Do this for him."

And Peter breathed as if those were the magic words.

Because of course, he would. How could he not?

He'd do everything for Tony.

But Tony's gone now.

Just like his parents.

Just like his Uncle Ben and Aunt May.

And now Peter has no one.

For a boy who is no stranger to loss, this feels like the last straw keeping what's left of his sanity intact.

There are so many words he wanted to say to Tony, so many things he wanted to do with the man.

Now, he could only wonder what it feels like to be able to call Tony Stark "Dad" to his face.

He could have done it before, he supposes. He could have done so many things if only he'd known the man had adopted him and made him his legitimate heir.

But no one had ever told him. And just like every time, the universe was adamant to mess with his head and see him crumble.

Peter didn't even know he was more than a charity case to the man he saw as his mentor and hero.

Every time Tony did something parental for him, Peter thanked him but stomped down on the warmth inside his own chest. He convinced himself to believe it was all business for the man. Peter is Spider-Man. And Iron Man needed Peter to be Spider-Man so they could help save the world from chaos.

But Tony had made sure to let him know that he cared for Peter Parker as well. He never said it out loud, but Peter felt it evey time he'd ask about his day, about his friends, his classes and everything else important to him that isn't related to his alter ego. Tony had made sure to show up at his contests. He'd cheered for him and even treated him and his friends for a job well done. The man had spent nights in his room to calm him down from nightmares. He'd been there when he was sick, when he was wounded, when he was sad.

Peter was a mess, but Tony had been there for him to make sure he wasn't alone.

There were many times Peter wanted to cry to him, and just thank him for doing everything he'd been doing for him. But Peter held himself back. He held back because thanking Tony would give a name to their new normal. It would have overwhelmed him with a sense of family, and that more than anything, was the label that scares Peter the most.

Everyone he loved, everyone he saw as family, he had lost. And he couldn't do that to Tony.

Peter couldn't find it in him to believe that the man cared for him, truly loved him like family, in fear of adding a name to his long list of losses.

But he lost him anyway.

To Peter, my son, Tony had called him in his will, having chosen him as family if the adoption papers were anything to go by.

It was everything Peter had secretly wanted but never once believed he could have again.

But he had it. Apparently, he had even if he hadn't known.

Peter feels like a curse.

He really doesn't deserve to have anyone on his corner.

If Tony hadn't adopted him, he could have saved himself from the Peter curse.

Why did he even adopt him in the first place?

Why did he take him in?

He could have just offered money and paid for an apartment, but no. Tony insisted that Peter lived with him. And now he's dead because of Peter.

Tony Stark is dead, and Peter Parker's left trying to pick up the pieces left of his tattered heart and soul.

It's not even his first death of a family member, and yet this feels ten times worse for some reason he couldn't identify.

Mary and Richard Parker were lost in the plane crash when he was six. Ben Parker died in the mugging when he was fifteen. Then May Parker followed in a car accident a year later, half a year after he became Spider-Man.

You'd think that after four losses, Peter would be used to it by now.

But damn it all, he still isn't.

Losing someone never gets any easier no matter how many times it happened to him.

Thanos came with his army. The Snap happened and Peter died along with half the universe. Then it was reversed and Peter was brought back with all his fellow victims.

Peter had been shocked by Tony's reaction at seeing him alive. Tony Stark didn't cry. But at that moment, Peter felt his tears of joy and relief as he'd pulled him into a hug.

We're there, it screams. Like an echo in a whole room of silence, and for a second, only for a second, there was no war but only them. People broken and lost, but together, were mended by each other's presence.

If Peter had known how much the man cared for him then he would have hugged him tighter and not let go. But he hadn't and now he couldn't hug his mentor ever again.

Hours later after their short reunion, Anthony Edward Stark died saving the world and Peter feels like he died with him.

"Sssssh," whispered the soothing voice of Pepper as she pulled him into her arms. Peter could barely hear her through the noise of his guttural cries.

If only he was more conscious of his surroundings, he would have seen the pitying looks of the small crowd forming around them, would have heard his broken voice as he cried out the same word at the universe that took away everything he'd ever loved.

"Dad!" he sobbed, burying his face in Pepper's shoulder. "Bring him back! God, please bring him back!"

The rain started pouring.

The pain didn't stop.

Peter heard the voice again.

It never will.

A/N: Read the next chapters in the link below. Please don't forget to comment and leave kudos! 💞

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27332137/chapters/66779947

#irondad and spiderson #irondad #avengers #peter parker #tony stark #spiderson #peter parker and tony stark #prepare to cry

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lochrannn · 3 years

Link

@pepperf and I challanged each other to three Whumptober fics. Here’s my first contribution

No. 1 - ALL TRUSSED UP AND STILL NOWHERE TO GO “You have to let go” | barbed wire | bound

Warnings: Canon-typical Violence

Tags: Hurt/Comfort; Canon-Typical Violence; Injury; Implied/Referenced Torture

Relationshipts: Diego Hargreeves/Lila Pitts; Diego Hargreeves/Hargreeves Siblings

Characters: Diego Hargreeves; Lila Pitts; Five Hargreeves; Allison Hargreeve; Klaus Hargreeves; Hargreeves Siblings

Summary: Stuck in an unfamiliar 2019 the Hargreeves have struck an uneasy truce with Reginald and his Sparrows until Diego and Five are summond to the academy to identify an intruder who was captured by their father while looking for them.

They’ve struck an uneasy truce with Reginald and the Sparrows.

It’s caused no small amount of strain amongst the siblings. Fuck, Diego can’t say he’s in anyway pleased about it himself, he was probably the one who argued the hardest against it, but it’s not like he can’t understand Five’s logical pragmatism either.

There is no immediate benefit and only very real danger to fully antagonizing the most powerful group of people in a place where the original six Hargreeves siblings (Diego is confused himself sometimes about how to refer to all of them) have no resources, no allies, and no history to speak of.

They already had a scuffle with the Sparrows when they first arrived, and maybe if they hadn’t been exhausted and confused and completely overwhelmed to see not-Ben in the Sparrow academy uniform they might have had even a sliver of a chance. But as it stood then, they were very quickly overpowered and the only thing that saved them was Five’s ability to compartmentalize.

Somehow Five convinced Reginald to let them leave the mansion. Whether their father genuinely doesn’t think they are a real threat to his world and his timeline is entirely unclear, but Diego and his siblings know that they have been free to move about the city and stay at a motel on the outskirts only because Hargreeves is letting them. If and when he decides that he can’t risk leaving them alone any longer, they will be in real trouble.

They are all sat around the bedroom Allison is sharing with Vanya, arguing over how to continue, Five firm on his stance that his siblings need to sit on their asses until he is done calculating how he can bring them back to their original timeline (nobody wants to say out loud what they all know to be the silent continuation of that phrase - if it even still exists), while Diego thinks Five can juggle his silly little numbers, but in the meantime they should try and establish just exactly how dangerou the Sparrows are and if they should actually take the opportunity they’ve been given to protect the city from their father’s twisted sense of justice.

Allison, unsurprisingly, is with Five, and considering that she has lost the most in their original timeline, Diego can’t actually blame her for it.

To his utter surprise, he thinks Luther might actually be coming around to his point of view. Vanya is trying to find a compromise and though Diego has started appreciating her need for harmony, right now he really wishes she would stay the fuck out of it.

Klaus is sitting by the cracked window, intermittently taking drags of his cigarette and watching the discussion, but clearly uninterested in taking part.

Some part of Diego is worried about him, but he neither knows how to approach Klaus about how he’s feeling, nor does he think he has the time to stop and deal with his brother’s grief. It can wait till later, he tells himself.

“... you imbecile!” Five is shouting at Diego, the two of them squaring off in the middle of the room, Five’s lack of height doing nothing to make him any less ferocious, “If we draw dad’s attention like that he might figure out that we’re trying to restore our own timeline. And I might not know the old man that well, but he’s not an idiot. He wouldn’t risk the possibility that us trying to restore our own timeline could destroy his. He might not have killed us yet, but I have no doubt he will if he thinks we might bring about the end of his world.”

That stops Diego for a moment, he hasn’t thought of the fact that that could be a genuine risk. He doesn’t know how to feel about that, but he catches a glimpse of Allison out of the corner of his eye, the way her eyes are big and bright, her lips pursed, and her arms are crossed so tightly it almost looks like she’s physically trying to hold herself together, and he decides that that is another thing to think about at a later stage, or hopefully never.

Diego is just about to respond to Five when there is a knock outside.

It’s not particularly loud, but it isn’t gentle either and they all freeze and stare at the door.

Then there is a flurry of hand signals going around and it doesn’t seem like they are really communicating anything through them, except that nobody is quite certain what the best course of action is, and in the end Allison, who is the closest to the door, rolls her eyes, untangles herself, and turns around to open the door a crack.

Diego can’t see who it is but he can tell by the way Allison tenses and squares her shoulders, that it’s not a welcome guest. It would have been highly unlikely anyway, it’s not like they know anybody good in this place.

“What do you want?” Allison says. Her tone is cold and razor sharp. She doesn’t need the Rumor to be commanding even when asking a question.

“My father would like to talk to your brothers,” a man’s raspy voice responds.

“Yeah, well, why didn’t your father come here to talk to them, then?” Allison doesn’t budge an inch and continues blocking the door with a foot behind it so it can’t just be shoved open.

“My father is a very busy man, Allison, he doesn’t have the time to trudge all the way out here,” the man on the other side of the door responds, clearly one of the Sparrows, and Diego can see Allison's knuckles go white where she has her hand on the doorframe at the casual use of her name.

“We’re a little busy, too, right now, so if Hargreeves wants to talk to any of us…” Allison begins but then Five interrupts her and calls out from where he’s stood next to Diego in the middle of the room, “Who does he want to talk to?”

There’s a beat in which Allison starts fidgeting by the door, clearly as enraged with her brother now as with the man standing outside the motel room. Then she pushes the door open far enough to reveal a man that Diego recognizes as the Sparrow with the scarred up face, but Allison doesn’t let go of the door, making sure to signal that he is not coming in, even if she’s letting him talk to the rest of the Hargreeves.

“You,” the man says in an even voice, pointing at Five, then shifting his finger just a little to point at Diego next, “and him.”

They are greeted in the entrance hall of the Sparrow Academy by a Pogo that looks like the butler/teacher/guardian they grew up with but who has only the slightest hint of recognition in his eyes when he looks at Five, but none whatsoever when he looks at Diego.

He takes them to the elevator that they were never allowed to go near when they were children and presses a combination of buttons that makes the contraption descend.

When they stop and Pogo opens the grate, Diego realizes that at least they haven’t arrived at the floor with an anechoic chamber at the end, but it doesn’t make him feel any less nervous about being in the Academy’s basement. They have nowhere to run.

And the way their father is standing halfway down the hall shrouded in darkened shadows certainly also doesn’t help. On the contrary, it makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

“At last you’re here,” Reginald says, his voice not particularly loud, but it echoes off the empty walls and is dripping with sarcasm, “I haven’t got all day. Pogo, tell Number Four that I expect him to bring our honoured guests here in the fastest fashion possible, if I ever ask him to retrieve someone again.”

Diego and Five give each other a look and clearly silently agree that apparently they're expected to follow Hargreeves when their not-quite father turns on his heels and starts marching down the hall, Pogo bringing up the rear.

“We have had an intrusion into the Academy last night. But fear not, with only a very small amount of difficulty, we were able to subdue and capture this interloper. However, though we applied our most thorough interrogation methods, we haven’t yet been able to establish her identity,” Reginald declares grandly and Diego feels his blood run cold in horror.

“That being said,” Hargreeves continues, voice still clipped and impassive as he opens a heavy metal door and ushers in Five, Diego, and Pogo, “Before she started putting up a fight, she seemed to be under the impression she might find you here!”

Hargreeves is looking at him expectantly, but Diego is taking no notice of him, because they have walked into a cold, tiled room, with very sparse furniture, at the center of which is a large metal chair.

Handcuffed to the chair’s arms is Lila, looking badly beaten up and possibly unconscious, head lolling on her chest, and Diego can see a white piece of cloth tied as a gag around the back of her head that’s highlighting even more how messy her hair looks.

Diego sees red and three things happen at once.

He wants to call out to her and go to her and get her out of here, but all he manages is to stammer, “Luh-” before the word gets stuck in his throat and as he takes a step towards her, all of a sudden, everything stops.

Irrationally, Diego has the sudden burning urge to suck in a breath, despite the fact that he doesn’t actually need to and also he realizes that even though it feels like even the air around him has gone completely still, he has no actual trouble breathing.

And then he feels the hand grabbing his wrist and when he looks down at it, he sees that Five is holding on to him with fingers that are glowing blue and an expression on his face that is split between concentrated, enraged, and in pain.

“What the fuck?” Diego says, staring around them at the way everything suddenly seems like it’s two dimensional, the complete and utter lack of any movement flattening the world around him weirdly.

“I know you are about to do something really fucking stupid, Diego, but I need you to stop and think for a second,” Five says. He sounds a little out of breath and strained.

“Have you stopped time?” Diego almost shouts, incredulous.

“Yes, but I won’t be able to hold onto this for very long so I need you to understand that there’s nothing we can do to help her right now!”

Five almost tips forward at the force with which Diego pulls his arm free from his grip. He’d like to punch the little twerp for saying something so aggravating, but he already looks like he’s standing on shaky legs, so Diego balls his hands into fists in frustration and stares his oldest brother down.

“Don’t be so dramatic, idiot! We’ll come back for her, okay? But for now, we can’t let dad know that we know who she is or give him any information about her. What do you think he’s going to do if he finds out about the Commission? It’s too dangerous for us. And I presume for Lila, too. So, Diego, I need you to let this go!”

Five barely finishes his sentence when everything starts up again.

It feels like a tidal wave crashes in on him as air begins flowing around him again and low humming noises that he would not have noticed before assault his senses.

His father is saying something but Diego can’t hear what it is because Lila, apparently not unconscious, lifts her head and looks right at him.

Diego’s chest feels like someone has cracked it open and his heart has fallen out.

There are spots of red on the gag in her mouth, and dried blood is running from the corner of her mouth down her chin. Her lip is split but that’s not where the blood is coming from, and the top of one of her cheekbones is bruised red and purple and looks slightly swollen.

He doesn’t quite know how he sees it, because he can’t actually tear his eyes away from hers, but he registers that her knuckles are bloodied and bruised and he can guess that the rest of her body is no better but it’s covered in a long sleeved black top and matching pants. Her feet are bare, though.

Even if he wanted to ignore Five’s instructions, he’s not sure he could make his limbs move to go towards her, rooted to the spot by the intensity of Lila’s eyes on him, as she struggles against the cuffs holding her arms and legs to the chair. Her shouts and screams are muffled by the gag, but Diego still thinks he can hear her calling his name, begging him to help her.

He feels sick.

He is staring at Lila and is willing her to use Five’s powers to teleport out of there. He doesn’t even care if she disappears again, as long as she gets away from these ruthless so-called superheroes and his dangerous father. Diego realizes at that moment that some part of him never actually expected to see her again. He thinks he could live with her disappearing for good this time, if only it means that she’s no longer here, in his psychopathic father’s torture chamber, getting interrogated because she made the mistake to come after him.

“She was quite the handful,” Reginald explains, “it seems she has powers of her own. But I have injected her with a mild sedative of my own design that will continue to suppress her powers until we have decided what to do with her.”

Diego’s eyes flit from his father back to Lila and he can feel his heart simultaneously hammering in his throat and the pit of his stomach. His ears are ringing. And once again he is unable to protect someone who is so important to him, like Eudora, like Mom, and in that moment he can feel his eyes stinging with tears that he has to hold back if they don’t want to tip their father off.

“Well, can’t say I’ve seen this woman before, I wouldn’t know why she was asking for us,” Five says, his tone so casual that Diego would almost believe him if he didn’t know it was a complete lie.

“Diego?” Five turns to him, one eyebrow quirked up in question.

His tongue is sticking to the roof of his mouth and his throat is seizing up completely. And all he can do is watch Lila struggling, stare her down, and try as best as he can to communicate to her that this is not real, that they will come back for her, that he made her a promise of family and that they won’t leave her behind.

“Apparently he doesn’t know who she is either.” Five has gotten impatient next to him, waves a hand in what seems to be half a shrug and also half a non-verbal see? and turns back to Reginald.

“If that’s all, I think we’d best be getting back to our siblings. You understand, we’re still reeling a little from arriving in this very unrecognizable time.”

Five doesn’t wait for an answer, instead he turns around towards the door, grabs Diego by the elbow and the last thing he sees as he’s dragged out towards the elevator by his much smaller brother, is Lila beginning to struggle frantically and his father’s very skeptical look.

For some incomprehensible reason they aren’t stopped from leaving the mansion and they only get to round the first corner before Diego doubles over, hands on his knees, and dry heaves into the gutter.

Five wants them to wait another day before they go back to the academy to grab Lila as he expects the Sparrows to be on high alert after their visit today, but Diego explains in no uncertain terms that he is going back tonight, with or without his siblings’ help, and even Allison backs him up when she hears about the obvious signs of torture.

The plan is that Diego, Allison, and Five, the best trained at stealth combat out of all of them, go to the mansion, while Luther, Klaus, and Vanya cause a distraction in a different part of the city, hoping to create at least a small window where some or all of the Sparrows are out of the house.

That actually works significantly better than any of them could have expected. Or Reginald knows they’re coming and doesn’t care, and right now, neither does Diego, because for some reason Five blinks into the mansion and only a minute later blinks back out into the alley that they are hiding in, just about able to support a very unconscious Lila for long enough to set her halfway gently down onto the dirty ground.

Diego is by their side in a flash, hands nervously hovering over her body, eventually deciding on supporting her head and stroking the hair out of her slack face.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! What did he do to her?” he’s whispering frantically, not actually expecting an answer, but Five pipes up and says, “Oh yeah, that was me.”

Diego freezes and then slowly turns to look up at his brother, thinking he must have misheard.

“What’d you say?” he asks, deliberately making his question sound as threatening as possible, though Allison’s hand that lands heavily on his shoulder does take a little bit of the wind out of his sails.

“Diego, we have no idea why she came here. For all we know she came to finish the job and kill us all -” Diego opens his mouth to protest, but Five just holds up a hand and maybe because Allison squeezes hers on his shoulder, half in warning and half in support, he lets Five finish.

“I just want to make sure we know what we're dealing with and that we’re properly prepared for whatever that might be.”

Diego can actually see the logic in that, it’s not like he hasn’t got good reasons to distrust Lila, but it still doesn’t sit right with him, not after the promise they all made.

So he huffs in annoyance as he snakes his arms under her knees and shoulders and lifts her up easily, maneuvering her until her head is lying against his shoulder, gentle breath tickling his neck, and he is struck by how quickly he’s forgotten how small and skinny she really is with how energetic and forceful she is when awake.

Diego thinks he doesn’t ever want to see her this vulnerable again, but nevertheless the feel of her body against his is an instant comfort for his nerves that have been pulled taut since he first laid eyes on her this afternoon.

Diego is livid with his siblings as he paces the tiny floor space in the motel room.

It’s just him and Klaus and Lila, still unconscious, lying on the bed, both wrists cuffed to the frame.

Five’s idea again. All of the siblings whose powers Lila could use to escape have taken their leave while Klaus has been left in charge of the key to the cuffs, because Diego can apparently not be trusted with them. And Five seems to believe Diego wouldn’t go through Klaus to get to them.

He’s thinking for probably the thirtieth time in about as many minutes that he might just like to prove Five wrong on that one, when Lila begins to stir and mumble incoherently.

Klaus, who’s been doing an impressive job of ignoring Diego’s hyperactive fury, stubs out his cigarette and glides over to the foot of the bed where Diego is standing, frozen to the spot, watching Lila come around.

“You fucker!” she says, finally, when she’s managed to pull herself half upright against the headboard where the cuffs are also attached to the decorative cut-outs in the wood.

Diego stares at her, now completely incapable of saying anything.

“You left me to rot in that fucking torture chamber!” she shouts at him then, thrusting her torso forwards as far as she can go to put more force behind her accusation.

That jolts Diego into action and he tries to rush out an explanation when Klaus just talks over him, and Diego is really beginning to resent that, but his brother seems completely unbothered.

“Are you here to murder us, missy?” Klaus asks in the voice of a not particularly strict school matron.

“I fucking might, now! All that talk about family and then you abandon me to those psychopaths! I know you have daddy issues, but I didn’t know you have no fucking spine when it comes to that monster!” She's jangling the cuffs aggressively and Diego’s stomach twists, both at her words but also at how the cold metal is digging into the already reddened skin at her wrists.

“So you’re not here to kill us?” Klaus tries again and it’s almost like he’s cut Lila’s strings with his perfectly even, practically friendly question.

She falls back against the headboard, turns her head away from them, deflated, and says quietly, “no.”

“You wanna hurt any of us?” Klaus adds.

“Yeah, I really do, but I won’t,” Lila grumbles off to the side, clearly more drained than she first let on.

“Wunderbar!” Klaus exclaims and then tosses the key to the handcuffs up in the air and when Diego manages to catch them, only fumbling a little, because this is not what he expected, Klaus is already halfway to the door.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” he shouts over his shoulder as he leaves and slams the door shut behind him and after all of his angry and frantic struggle to get Lila back to their motel and have her wake up, Diego wishes Klaus hadn’t left.

Because, what’s he supposed to do now?

He’s given a clue when Lila shifts, doesn’t look at him, but the motion makes her cuffs clatter against the bed and Diego decides that whatever else he needs to do, the first thing is to let her out of the handcuffs.

He makes his way around the bed, sits down on the edge and leans over her to unlock the cuffs.

Lila doesn’t look at him, just pulls her arms back down now that she has her full motion and cradles her hands against her chest protectively.

Diego notices that her eyes are shining but she’s not blinking very much, probably holding back tears and now he knows even less what he’s supposed to say.

On instinct he thinks that if he can’t talk about things, maybe there’s at least something more immediate he can fix and he gently pulls her hands away from her to inspect her wrists.

Lila lets him, but still doesn’t really acknowledge him.

The skin there is reddened but doesn’t look raw, so Diego rubs it carefully with his thumbs and when Lila flinches he sets her hands into her lap, just glad that she’s not quite so curled up into herself anymore.

He takes a look at her face, they haven’t yet taken care of the cuts and bruising on her cheek and lip. There’s even still the line of dried blood down the side of her mouth.

Momentarily grateful that that gives him something to do, Diego gets up and swiftly makes his way to the small bathroom. He picks up one of the fresh white towels and runs it under lukewarm water and then grabs their meager first aid supplies on his way back into the room.

When he comes back in, Lila is busy cleaning dirt - probably dried blood - out from under her fingernails, but she looks up at him and while it had bothered him before that she was avoiding his eyes, he now feels like the skin on his entire body is heating up as she won’t look away.

Diego sits back down on the side of the bed and half expects her to take the wetted towel and scrub her face with it herself, but instead she is just waiting, chin tilted up a tiny bit, as if in challenge.

Never one to back down, he nods, not quite sure what he’s agreeing with, and lifts the towel up to her face to gingerly wipe the dried blood off.

“You just left me there!” she says coldly and Diego lets his hand drop again.

“We didn’t have a choice...” That sounds like a feeble excuse even to his own ears and Diego drops his head with a sigh.

“Was that some kind of fucked up retaliation for when I left at the barn?” Lila shoots back immediately, sounding far more angry than before.

“What? No!” Diego’s head snaps up to look at her. She’s baring her teeth furiously, the slight pink blotches from where he wasn’t able to properly clean the blood off her face making her look almost wild, but her eyes are shining brightly again and Diego suddenly feels a lump forming in his throat.

“No, Lila! We couldn’t risk my dad finding out about the Commission, if he thought he could have gotten that kind of information out of you, I can’t think about what he might have done! But I didn’t want to leave you there like that, I swear. I was going to help you! I tried to, but Five stopped me!” He’s desperate to get her to understand that the last thing he wanted to do was abandon her after everything she’s been through.

“Well that would have been pretty stupid!”

Lila’s interjection completely stops him in his tracks and Diego can’t help but stare at her a little dumbfounded.

“What?” he says, looking her dead in the eye, her expression a mixture of annoyance and exasperation, but also softer than before.

“Your idiot hero complex could have fucked us all over, huh?” she adds, and Diego is just about to argue when his protest dies away in his throat as Lila moves to tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear and then leaves her hand at the side of his face.

All the tension Diego’s been holding since he first saw Lila tied to that chair, or possibly even earlier, possibly since he saw her disappear out of Sissy’s barn, seeps out of him and he leans heavily against her hand, eyes closing with how drained he suddenly feels.

“You came back for me,” Lila says and Diego doesn’t know how to respond to that other than to cover her hand with his own.

He feels the mattress shift and then without warning her lips press against his and he makes a strangled, involuntary noise at the back of his throat as the intensity of the relief he feels then, for Lila being safe, for her being back with him, is almost painful.

Diego wraps his arms around her and pulls her against himself, deepening their kiss carefully, not wanting to be too forceful considering her injured state, but Lila presses into him hungrily, so Diego tightens his grip on her and very much plans to never let go again.

#otp: just be gentle #lila pitts #diego hargreeves #dielila #diego x lila #diego/lila #tua #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #fanfic #oneshot #whumptober 2021

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beetlegoose01 · 4 years

Text

stolen whispers: chapter 1

AN: this fic isn’t a request, it’s a story i’ve been preparing for a lil while and I’m so excited to share this with you all <3

I’ll link it on my Archive if you prefer to read it there. Also warning, there’s quite a few OCs.

Time: 2028 (Scorbus have been married for two years)

Summary: When a new generation of Death Eaters kidnap Scorpius, Albus and Rose put aside their differences to rescue him.

TW: Kidnapping/Language/minor violence

~~~~

Two witches wearing shadowy black robes entered the tavern, finding a table near the back. They ordered their mead, waiting for their third partner impatiently. It was a crowded area, so thankfully there was a small chance they would be overheard.

"We don't want more mead." The first woman growled, tapping her long nails at the table. The bartender, a tall man with a mustache put the drinks down.

"I didn't think so." He lips curled into a grin as he morphed into a younger man with wild dusty brown hair, wearing matching robes. He was handsome, but had an eerie presence to him. Any reasonable person would have at least flinched at the transformation, though neither witch did. "Hello ladies." He grinned cheekily.

"Soren, enough playing games." The second woman said, though she was smirking.

Soren barked out a laugh. "It was funny, Mara. And you know it."

The first woman, Lilith narrowed her eyes. She pulled down her hood, revealing cascading inky black hair down her shoulders. A scar that showed no sign of mending was down her cheek. "Your skills are impressive, but useless if you don't use them for our own gain. Don't forget that." She pulled her hood back.

"Understood." He murmured, taking a seat.

"We have much to discuss," She continued, flicking her wand idly. "Our current plan in action. Our...act of revenge. It's been thirty years since The Tenebris was wrongfully killed. I am sick and tired of his name being tossed around in history like he was some monster. He was on the right side."

"Are you certain we want to call the Dark Lord that?" Mara asked suspiciously.

"Shh! You know if anyone hears us, they'll lock us up for good. For speaking our minds." Lilith said. "It's safer we call him by his code name."

Her companions nodded.

"Because of his loss, we have mudbloods in positions of power. Our siblings that fought for his cause are locked up. Or worse, dead."

Mara and Soren looked grim.

"If we had more allies, perhaps we would have had a chance." Soren noted. "We weren't even alive then but...I have a feeling if we were..."

"Just because we weren't alive then, doesn't mean we don't have opinions over the lives stolen!" Mara argued. "That damn Harry Potter."

"Correct. And Soren is right too. For once. If we had more allies, or better yet...certain allies didn't betray us. The Malfoys for instance." She took a sip of her drink.

"Are you suggesting something?" Mara asked.

"Of course I am, don't be so daft." Lilian said, deadly calm. "I want to make that family suffer for what they did. My uncle Vincent Crabbe died for their selfishness. Draco Malfoy had a chance to save him, and he refused like the coward he is. His mother Narcissa lied to Tenebris' face. They are backstabbing filth that besmirched the Sacred 28. No, it isn't just about their betrayal or avenging those we lost in the war. Think of the big picture. They have the capabilities to join our side. To...respawn a new generation of Death Eaters. But that's not all...

"The Malfoys have lots of gold." She drawled. "Surely, they'll spare a few for us in exchange for something important. Or rather...someone."

"Someone?" Soren paused. "What are you suggesting?"

"Regretfully, Astoria Malfoy has passed on." Mara didn't sound the least bit sympathetic, instead stated it blandly. "So using her as a ransom for Draco is a no go."

"Ah, but there is still someone left." Lillian said, removing a small photograph from her cloak, she slid it across the table.

A young man with platinum hair was pictured, beaming brightly in Healer Robes.

"Scorpius Malfoy."

Soren and Mara exchanged a look of satisfaction.

"Bring him to me."

~~~~~~~~~~

The best thing about mornings, at least to Albus, was waking up beside his husband. The sun's bright rays peaked through the window of their cream colored bedroom, slowly stirring them both awake. If it was up to him, he would stay in their warm bed, arms wrapped around Scorpius until noon.

Scorpius rolled over, so that they were facing each other. His eyes fluttered open, and Albus felt his heart melt at his sapphire eyes.

"Hi." He yawned. His voice was slightly croaky, no doubt from the morning.

Albus replied by nuzzling his nose, then kissed his cheek. "Hi honey."

Scorpius laughed lightly. "Let's get up then. Start the day? It's a Saturday. We have the whole weekend to spend together."

"I'd rather spend it here with you."

Bathilda mewed from the kitchen.

"But our child is hungry." Scorpius teased, stretching as he slid out of bed. Albus begrudgingly slumped after him, not eager to wake up before ten am. But his own stomach was growling too.

"Speaking of children," Albus said, starting to work on their breakfast as Scorpius poured Bathilda's food. "Iris is pregnant again. James told me through a Howler yesterday."

"Really?" Scorpius' eyes widened. "That's great news!"

"Yeah, not for my ears." He commented dryly, still traumatized by James' excited screeching in his ear. "Baby number three." He whistled. "Do you think they're trying to make an entire quidditch team? With Teddy and Vic's lot included, they're on their way."

Though he was joking, Scorpius noticed that Albus was glowing, happy for his brother and sister in law. That was one of the many reasons he loved Albus. His love for his siblings.

"Perhaps. When are they due?"

"September. Which means...that's where they scurried off to last Christmas party." Albus quipped. "To have a little fun."

"Albus!" Scorpius scolded. "Honestly, only you would make a beautiful moment gross."

"It's life, Scorp!" He chuckled. "You're a Healer, you should know these things."

"We'll have to visit. Maybe bring a gift basket to congratulate them." He mused, smiling fondly. "I can't wait to meet our new niece or nephew." There was a wistful look in his eye that Albus caught.

"You've got that look on your face." He noted, amused. He served the plates of bacon sandwiches on the table.

"What do you mean?"

"That Scorpius 'I want something but I'm not going to spell it out for you' face."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh." Albus said, forest green eyes brightening in amusement. "What's up?" He took a seat, tucking into breakfast.

"Well," Scorpius started, staring at his food. "I was thinking..." He stopped himself, hesitant to continue his train of thoughts.

"Yeah?" Albus nudged him gently.

"I want a child." He said, his voice quiet, but firm. "I love my nieces and nephews so much, but they aren't...ours. I want to start a family with you, Albus. Raise a little one of our own to be bright and wonderful and brave and..."

Albus' expression softened. "I do too. You know I do, Scorpius. It's just...difficult right now." He stared at his wedding band. "You know it's harder for us than any hetero couple." He waved his hand vaguely. "Adoption is hard, surrogacy is expensive. Maybe once we settled into our careers more, we can talk about it."

"I think we're ready to go beyond just talking about it, Al."

"We're still young. We've still got time. But...I definitely want to work it out. Somehow, we will. We always do."

Scorpius beamed, reaching to kiss Albus' knuckle. "Thank you." He sat up abruptly. "Oh, I almost forgot- it's the farmer's market today."

Albus snorted. "You're exactly like your dad, you know?"

"Yes yes yes, but we should go!" Scorpius said, levitating the plates to the sink and it automatically was clean due to the floating sponges.

"We? I've got some work to do. I'm not very fond of small talk with old people selling fruit."

"Al, it's really good fruit." Scorpius said seriously. "And it's not all old people. I've seen some of our old schoolmates there."

Albus cringed. "That's even worse."

"Don't be so dramatic. Are you still coming?"

"Mm, but I should really finish this article. Go on without me."

"If you're sure...do you want me to bring anything back?"

Albus thought for a moment. "Those strawberries Ms. Beaker sells. Please? Strawberries and cream sounds so good right now."

"Brilliant, I'm on it." Scorpius did a mock salute.

"Have fun." Al waved as Scorpius appatered, leaving the kitchen empty. Albus went straight to work on his article.

~•~

The market was lively and merry, despite the early hour. Scorpius had stopped by the strawberry stand first, in case he forgot.

Ever since they had moved two years ago, Scorpius had found himself drawn to the quaint farmer's market. Not because of the delicious, fresh food, but to socialize. He made quite a few friends with the muggles who lived around there...mostly old ladies. The early days of their marriage, Albus would join him. Before life got in the way, and work had to be done.

Not that he wasn't busy himself. He only had two days off as a Healer, sometimes less. He didn't know how they would manage childcare, but like Al had said, it was best not to dwell on the future.

"Scorpius? Is that you?"

He turned around, following the voice from behind him. "Polly ...Chapman?" He uttered blandly, praying he wasn't mistaken. He didn't have the best memory- even with old schoolmates who bullied him.

"Yep." Polly said, laughing lightly. "It's me. Been a while."

"It has." Scorpius shifted his weight. "How are things?"

"Great!" She smiled, swishing her blonde ponytail, the same air of confidence from when she was a teenager. "Yann and I are engaged."

"Oh! That's wonderful." Scorpius said, pretending to sound pleased. "Congratulations!"

"Thank you. I proposed to them last month. It was just as I had dreamed."

"How is...Yann?" Scorpius did not actually care how Yann was.

"They're good! Brilliant actually, since they passed Auror training." Polly looked genuinely proud of them, which he had to admit was adorable. "Are you and Albus still..."

"Yes, yes. We um, er- we've been married almost two years actually." He added.

"Aw, that's very sweet. You two were always very close, yeah?" Polly looked at him, and Scorpius nearly walked backwards, intimidated by her stance. She still was extremely scary, like a lioness but with a great sense of fashion. "I know...Yann, Karl and I weren't the best to you two but perhaps we could..." She trailed off. "I'd like you both to come. To the wedding. If you'd like."

That...wasn't what he was expecting. He half expected her to invite him to another Blood Ball.

"Pardon?" Scorpius asked, dumbfounded. "I mean- yeah, that sounds great! Fun! Yes. That sounds nice. I'll bring it up to Al."

Polly was glowing. "Brill! I've got to go, but we should all hang out sometime. Like old times."

Like old times? Scorpius thought. When did they ever hang out?

Nodding mutely, he walked away from Polly with a puzzled, but cheerful expression. He hadn't completely fucked up the conversation, which was always a plus. It still felt odd that Polly Chapman of all people was talking to him, let alone inviting him to her wedding. It was bizarre.

He passed the final vendor, and was surprised and amused to see a tiny girl, no more than seven standing behind it. She had a Brownie uniform on, bright rosy cheeks and pigtails included.

"Would you like a biscuit?" She squealed.

It had taken him a moment to respond, he was still thinking of Polly being kind to him "Oh erm- of course." It was impossible to say no to an adorable small child. He reached for some muggle money, handing her the pound notes. "Just the one box please."

"Okie dokie!" She said, handing him the box. She waited a moment, pouting. "Go on, try it." She urged.

"I really shouldn't I-"

"Please?" The little girl gave him the most pitiful expression. "It's for a good cause, mister. We're helping orphaned puppies find homes."

"Well, alright. For the puppies." He fumbled open the box, taking a polite bite out of the cookie. It was a classic lemon cookie with powdered sugar, one of his favorites. But the second he swallowed, he felt dizzy all of a sudden. "What..." He stumbled back. "Oh my," He gulped, the entire market swirling around him. Something wasn’t right. "is there something in..."

He would be damned if he let this happen without some sort of fight. Throwing his basket aside, he collapsed, slipping into unconsciousness.

"We've got him."

#Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy #Albus Severus Potter #Char Fanfics #Scorbus #Married Scorbus #LOTS of OCs #James Sirius Potter #Polly Chapman #Yann Fredericks #Scorpius Malfoy #Albus Potter #Fanfic #Writing #Kidnapping

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tomishaped · 3 years

Text

Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warnings:

Graphic Depictions Of Violence • Major Character Death

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Supernatural

Relationship:

Dean Winchester!Izzy Hlton

Characters:

Dean Winchester • Izzy Hilton • Sam Winchester • Asmodeus • Dagon • Demons • Hellhound • Ellen Harvelle • Jo Harvelle • Hunters • Crowley • Charlie Bradbury • Bobby Singer • Ruby • Death • Pestilence • Famine • War • Castiel • Angels • Cain

Additional Tags:

Demon Dean Winchester • Demon Sex • Kidnapping • Gay Sex • Blood • Blood Kink • Hate Sex • Love/Hate • Major Character Injury • Major Original Character(s) • Character Death • Past Child Abuse • Past Rape/Non-con • Past Sexual Abuse • Past Torture • Past Violence • Canon-Typical Violence • Violence • Protective Dean Winchester • Bisexual Dean Winchester • Top Dean Winchester • Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings • Izzy is too • Emotional Hurt/Comfort • Emotional/Psychological Abuse

Summary: After being pulled out of hell Dean realizes quickly that the four months he had been gone made way for a lot of changes in the lives of everyone he knows, including the life he had known for himself before he died. Nobody was treating him the same, and there was seriously something going on with his brother that he could not figure out. He was spending most of his time alone nowadays, not really hunting anymore since Bobby and Sam were against it for him, and spending most of his time drinking instead to try and forget. He was angry, pretty much all the time. That anger really worked in his favour though when walking back to the impala he came across a freaking hoard of demons getting ready to attack some blond chick. He didn't know who she was or what the hell all the demons wanted with her, but there was no way he could just walk away. Maybe if he had any idea what trying to save this person was going to lead too he would have just walked away, maybe if he had actually given any thought to the situation before him he wouldn't have put himself in the middle of it, but even before hell he made impulsive and rash decisions... so maybe not.

Previous Chapters:

• Chapter One • Chapter Two: Part One •

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Two: Welcome to the Batcave

Part Two

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Izzy watched the other actually curious for a moment to see if he would finally catch what he said. Aaaand, there it was! He had to give the hunter some props, he was taking the fact that he mistaked Izzy for a girl better than he could remember anyone else had. Demons especially hated him for it. Not for the same reasons that humans seemed too, most demons really didn't care what your fucking gender was as they body hopped so often, what they didn't like was that someone so small, sweet, and innocent looking was actually a deadly assassin sent by a prince of hell. And worse, he was good at it. Izzy looked away from him again and back at the book he was holding when Dean started to talk, crossing one leg over the other as he started to look through the book. "If the idiots would just abandon their stupid plans of trying to break Lucifer from the cage I would just leave them alone," Izzy muttered as most of his attention was back to the book in his hands, not realizing he even said it out loud or knowing if Dean had heard about what this specific group of hellions were planning. "I wouldn't count too much on actually finding one, I've only ever found info on one and I can't find that fucker for the life of me. I've never not found a mark before him, it was actually really frustrating…" he said, talking more naturally and easily than he had before with most of his attention focused on something else. He could feel his heart racing as he read through the pages. The first few were just about Cain. How he had become a demon. That was actually interesting even if none of what he was learning would help him track the mother fucker. Cain was the only demon specifically named though. After the chapter on him, the book went on to explain how because of him it had become possible for a human to turn. And what had to happen to said human for something like that to happen and Izzy found that for the first time that he could remember, he was grateful for something. He was really fucking grateful that he couldn't remember being human. Because this shit sucked.

Dean relaxed his shoulders when the other didn’t point out how obviously awkward his mistake was. It must have happened quite a bit and it was obvious as to why. Though he didn’t dwell on it for too long after catching Izzy mutter under his breath. So Izzy knew about Lucifer and over half of Hell’s plans to free him. Not too many hunters really knew what was going on, just that demons had been kicking up a shit storm lately. He crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the table Izzy was sitting on. He raised a brow when Izzy said he’d only found one and he couldn’t track him. “A mark?” He asked, not following him. “Do you think they could make more demons like that? I have a feeling they’d be a bitch in a fight.”

"Not a mark, my marks. Whatever demon I'm hunting at the time," Dean really did get kind of lucky that Izzy had found this book if he wanted to ask questions. The lithe demon was only half paying attention to whatever he was saying, basically only enough to make sure he didn't let the fact that he was one of these demons slip out. "Though he does actually have a mark that turned him in the first place. Didn't know that." Izzy nodded without hesitation at the other males next question though, "Definitely. Seriously time consuming and difficult, but not impossible. Looks like when it does happen, it's usually an accident. And they are definitely totally awesome in a fight. Stronger than a knight of hell but not quite as strong as a prince. And not easy to kill. Our knives won't kill one of them." The book didn't actually tell him that last part, he knew it from experience back when Asmodues was first training him. He had kinda lost his temper at the pretty little blond and actually fucking stabbed him with the same knife he now had hidden in his boot. All it did to the blond was piss him off though. It ruined the dress he was wearing and had left a nasty little scar in his side where he had been stabbed. "So unless you’re Cain with his first blade or have that Colt and bullets that you killed Azazel with, or yanno, a crazy person like me, I would avoid looking for one of them." He took in a deep breath as he slammed the book shut, trying to not let it be seen how incredibly fucking furious he was right now. Well, at least he knew why Asmodues was so keen on him not knowing how he turned. "So uh, yeah. Thanks for the info. Great fucking room ya got here. But I gotta go find a certain prince and tear his fucking head off somehow," Izzy said, his voice showing he obviously was not happy with what he just read if his words didn't give that part away. He was caring less and less about whatever fucking cover he was supposed to be playing here. He couldn't fully remember right now what he had let on that he knew about the man in the room with him but he no longer really cared. He pushed himself down from the table and went to move past Dean, "Nice to meet ya and all that shit and like, thanks for the help…" he paused for a moment to look at the hunter again, fuck it. Dean gave him access to the information he so desperately wanted, he figured he could return the favour with some info that Dean probably actually needed, "By the way, you really should probably get your brother away from Ruby because bitch has him all fucked up, pretty sure that people shouldn't actually be drinking demon blood the way he is. Pretty fucked up. So yeah. Gotta go."

“Oh they sound great,” Dean said when Izzy confirmed that more could be made this way. “Oh yea, awesome,” He shot back when Izzy went on about them and described them that way and mentioned that the knives were worthless against them. The only good thing that was mentioned was that apparently they were only ever made on accident and there were no rumored army’s full of them. He had noticed the others snapping of the book and the anger rolling off of him, clearly having read something he didn’t like. “Oh yea that sounds like a feasible plan, how do you plan on getting in Hel-?” He was cut off by the other male thanking him for the help. “Wait.” He said, not wanting the other to run off and get killed while half cocked. He didn’t get a chance to say anything else because what Izzy said after that shut him right up. “Wait, what the hell are you talking about?” He asked, his voice showing his own rising anger. “And how the hell do you know who he’s with?” He asked him. This ment Izzy knew who they were before he ran into him tonight. He started reaching for his pistol in a back holster without thinking much about it. “Who are you?” He asked, taking a step back and raising the fire arm.

Izzy rolled his eyes as Dean called after him when he turned and started to walk to the bunkers exit. If he did leave here right now, he really would go straight to the youngest prince and try and kill the fucker somehow. "Oh come on Dean, you're pretty and reckless but I didn't peg you for being stupid. I hunt demons. Ruby is a fucking demon. And your brother is running around with her. Do I really need to connect all the dots for you?" He stopped for a moment when he heard the click of the firearm and rolled his eyes again. Really? First time he ever tried to actually help someone else out and they pulled a gun on him. Not that Dean's pistol would actually hurt him, but he had been serious when he mentioned he liked this jacket. He didn't feel like throwing it out because of a bullet hole after he managed to actually keep it through the ambush.

He turned around and crossed his arms over his chest. "I was after her. I really can't fucking stand her. Unfortunately for me, your junkie brother was in the way and I couldn't get close enough without having to kill him first, and since I don't kill humans that wasn't exactly an option." He waved his hand at the pistole pointed at him, looking more annoyed that Dean was pointing it at him than anything else, "But I swear to fuck if you pull that trigger that'll change real fucking fast as I will slit your fucking throat." He wasn't reaching for the knife though, he wasn't scared of the gun and wouldn't pull it unless Dean actually did attack him first. After all, he didn't know the bullet wouldn't hurt him, he would definitely be trying to kill him and Izzy didn't take well to that happening. Threats were usually whatever, a dime a dozen when you did what he did, but actually trying to do it was another thing completely. "Now do you wanna play this game with me too or do you mind if I go now?"

Dean narrowed his eyes when Izzy said he hunted demons. He didn’t say anything for a minute after Izzy said all that and threatened retaliation by cutting his throat. His jaw was tense but he eased the hammer back and lowered his gun. He didn’t like anything he had said. He just knew Izzy was keeping something from him but… he was telling the truth about his brother and Dean hated it. He kept his hard eyes on the blond as he put his gun back in his holster and he pulled out a small piece of paper from his back pocket and grabbed a forgotten pen on the table. He didn't say anything as he quickly jotted something down, folded it and handed it to him. “In case you do something stupid like take on a prince of hell and want back up,” he said, his voice was quiet and calm. His reboiling rage wasn’t aimed at the blond any more so he tried to keep it from exploding on him. He had seen what he could do with that knife of his.

The anger at the hunter seemed to dissipate when he withdrew his weapon and put it back in the holster. Smart move, because the little demon had been deadly fucking serious about retaliation if he tried to shoot him. When Dean handed him that paper and said that, Izzy couldn't stop the confused look that crossed his face. Seriously? We both just threatened to kill the other and Dean was offering to back him up again a second later? What the fuck went on in human fucking heads? He really didn't understand them at all. Especially this one. And this happened to be the first one he spent any length of time with. "Right. Not gonna happen, but thanks? The backup thing. The prince thing is totally happening." After nearly sixty years around Asmodeus, Izzy didn't hold any fear of him. The prince needed Izzy and they both knew it. Besides, that was a long time to spend with anyone, and since the prince had wanted Izzy a secret until he was ready he had been the one Izzy trained with most often before he started throwing demon chum his way to practice with. Izzy knew that mans every fucking move.

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bmongmong · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2 - White

Blue pill or red pill - Jungkook

Description: You're a young girl, who's a little bit introverted and afraid to be under everybody's eyes. You only have your best friend, but it's ok for you. You don't want to be popular and believe in minimal things. One day you meet a guy. Or two?

Jungkook x Reader

The imagines I used are not mine Credit to the owners

Y/n pov

I weak up to the sound of my alarm. It's not difficult today for me to wake up, since I'm very nervous.

After turning off the alarm, I sit up on my bed and open the curtains next to me. The bright and warm light welcomes me and slightly heats up my sleepy face.

I slowly stand up and stretch my whole body. I can feel every bone cracking and every muscle stretching out. It's a good sensation, it makes me feel alive.

I open the door and head downstairs to the kitchen, where my mum is preparing breakfast.

"Good morning y/n, are you ready for today?" she says referring to the beginning of school.

"Yes, a bit nervous, but I guess I can do nothing about it" I say lifting a bit my shoulders.

As I eat the breakfast my mum made, I start to feel strange. The taste of this meal feels nostalgic. Like I'm going to be away from home for years, but it's actually going to be for some hours.

"Mum it was delicious" I say as soon as I finished eating.

Now I'm going up the stairs and I see again the picture with me and Rosé. Why do I feel so sad this morning? It's not the end of the world and it's not the first time I go to school. Maybe something bad will happen?

I don't want to think about this. I have to get ready now.

As I'm putting on my uniform I can feel my warm hands touching my bare skin and lifting up my clothes. Such a simple move. Like me. I have to be simple.

After a bit I finished getting ready and now I'm laying down on my bed. Unconsciously I find myself talking to the ceiling:

"I'll be back I promise. I just need to be like you. White. And everything will be alright"

I don't know why I have to be this dramatic every time.

Now I'm outside and it feels like it passed only two seconds: me waking up, having breakfast, putting on clothes and going outside. And now, as I'm walking, I realize that I'm almost at school.

I just blinked twice and I find myself in class, sitting next to Rosé, who's now complaining about Jimin. I don't know if it's me, but it actually feels like the beginning of a movie.

"...and now I find out that me and him have some classes in common!" Rosé continues talking.

I guess she really doesn't want to see Jimin. I wonder why, they look so good together. He's the bad guy and she's the good girl. I always tell her that the two of them are going to get together by the end of the year. But she doesn't want to believe me.

"So guys, that's it for today's lesson. Have a good day!" the professor says leaving us alone in the classroom. Seriously, why is time going so fast?

As I question myself about time, I hear some noises next to me.

"Oi nerd. Do the homework fast and give it to us once you're done." It's one of our classmates, that is bullying someone. I honestly can't stand this type of behaviors. I feel kinda angry right now.

Years ago I was in the same situation, being bullied because of my good grades and my shy personality. If it wasn't for Rosé, who protected me, I would still be like this.

I want to stop this bully, but as soon as I stand up I remember. "I have to be white". Right, I don't want to get in trouble.

After that scene, we walked outside of the building and now I'm walking home with Rosé who says:

"Why did you suddenly stand up earlier? Did you want to protect the guy who was being bullied?"

"I wanted to. But then...you know."

"Yeah. You didn't want to interfere. I know I know. Do you even know that poor guy?" she asks me.

Right. Do I know him? I honestly don't know. I think that, at that moment, I was too focused on being angry and mad at the bully, that I didn't even look at that guy. I hope things will change for him.

Every single other day of the week went by in the same way. Like a routine.

Waking up, having breakfast, getting dressed, going to school, having classes, assisting to people bullying other people, going home, having dinner, sleeping.

"Why is my life so flat?" I question myself looking at the ceiling.

On the other hand, Rosé's life is pretty chaotic. She told me that she had a lot to do. She also met up with Jimin to argue again. When she told me what happened, I laughed a bit. They are so cute I swear. Jimin has changed a lot since he knew Rosé.

While the only thing that changed in my life, is the anger towards bullies. Usually I would just ignore them, but this time is different. Those bullies kept asking that guy for his homework and he keeps reminding me of myself.

I couldn't say a word, I just handed them my homework and eventually started crying due to frustration. But I'm worried about him. He didn't give them his homework because he still didn't do it. They kept threatening him. I wonder what will happen next week.

I passed this weekend at home, studying obviously. But I was happy, everything was going great. There was just me, my teddy bear and the ceiling. Nothing went wrong.

As I look outside the window, I realize that is Monday morning and that another week has started.

"Great! I have to do like I did last week. Just be white. As always"

Every morning I feel the same emotions. I feel chills down my spine as I stretch my body when I get up. I feel nostalgic and sad when I eat the food my mum cooks. I feel like I'm going to lose everything, every time I look at the picture of me and my best friend. And once I get to school, it looks like nothing happened.

Now I'm having the last class of the day. As the professor says hi to us and leaves the room, I can hear those bullied. Again. I'm thinking about all the emotions I'm feeling. It was different in the past. I was kinda emotionless, except when I was with Rosé. This confusion is making me angrier. It's the first time I feel this type of emotion. Anger.

I'm literally daydreaming and I don't realize that I just stopped the bullies, putting a hand between them and the poor guy.

"What do you want?" one of those scary guys says. He's really intimidating.

I'm sweating. My worst nightmare has become true. Everybody is looking at us. I feel oppressed. The room has become black and I can only see everybody's eyes looking at me. their gaze is suffocating me and crushing my body. But then...

"Leave her alone" it's Rosé. As she defends both me and the other guy, I feel my eyes teary.

Even though those bullies are big and mighty, Rosé is more intimidating and scarier. Indeed they left right away. I don't know what's her past, even if I know her since forever. Sometimes I feel like she's the daughter of some of those rich men, that can get whatever they want with just money.

As I come back to earth I hear Rosé asking me if everything was alright. I just nod, but it feels like I didn't really answer. Then I hear another voice.

"Thank you, y/n and Rosé..." it's a boy and he's almost whispering.

I'm not really looking at him, I'm still trembling because of what just happened. I guess my life is ruined now. But then Rosé snaps her fingers in front of my eyes and this makes me turn my head towards her.

"Y/n you saved one of our classmates" she says laughing a bit "I honestly couldn't believe it. As I saw you standing up from the chair and getting in between those guys, I thought that someone was controlling your body or that you were sleepwalking" as she laughs at that, I feel a bit reassured.

She knows that her smile makes me calm down.

"I'm sorry for what happened. You didn't have to defend me ahah..." it's the same guy. This time I decide to look at him in the eyes.

"But thank you!" he says with a big smile "My name is Jungkook!"

He's actually cute. What? It feels strange. Did I just find him cute? I feel anxious. Why? It's the first time a boy talks to me.

I just nod in response and then start daydreaming, again. I can hear him and Rosé talking together. They're saying something about becoming friends. The three of us.

Another week has passed and me, Rosé and Jungkook became friends. Luckily the bullies stopped asking for his homework, maybe they're too afraid of Rosé ahahah.

Now is Thursday morning and I wake up strangely. I'm so strict. I find me scolding myself for letting something new happen. Maybe I'll just allow that. After all he's just a new friend. But somehow reminds me of someone. I've been thinking about this the whole week, but I can't figure out who he looks like.

Well I guess I have to stick with this doubt of mine. I'll let it sit with all my other queries that are archived inside my brain.

I just finished washing myself and now I have to go to school. At the very moment that I step outside my door, I feel a thrill running through my spine. I'm standing still at the main entrance of my house. What was that? Was that a sign? Something will go wrong. I can feel it. I don't want to go to school, but then...

"Y/n hurry up!" is Rosé who is waiting outside my house "Hurry or else we'll be late!"

As I see her smile, I instinctively walk towards her and forget about all my worries.

Now I'm at school, sitting at my desk with Rosé and waiting for the professor. Today I'm so distracted, that I forgot to greet Jungkook. Since the professor is not here yet, I guess I can turn myself to him and say hi.

I turn my head towards his desk. But I cannot say a word.

I see double. I'm crazy. I think I'm fainting. Am I the only one that sees double? What is wrong with me? I think I'm insane. I look down at my desk and try to calm down. I rub my eyes, thinking that maybe I didn't wash my face properly this morning and then I turn my head again.

Ok, I'm definitely crazy. There are two Jungkooks.

The Jungkook I know, has a warm smile.

He's very tidy and well mannered. Then I look at the other one.

OH MY GOD HE'S LOOKING AT ME!!! I quickly turn my face the other way.

He's the complete opposite of Jungkook. He has longer hair at the top and almost shaved on the sides. He's not even wearing the uniform. They look completely different! I mean, their faces look the same, but everything else is different!

"R-Rosé...who is the guy next to Jungkook?" I whisper to my desk mate.

"Oh that one is Jungwook. They're twins if you were wondering" she says as she takes out her notebook.

"Yeah I imagined that but- WHAT?!" I shout.

"Shh the professor is about to come!" one of our classmates scolds us.

Now that all the classes ended, I can finally ask Rosé:

"Who is the other guy?"

"He's the one that was with Jimin the day before school" she answers me as she walks down the street.

That's why he reminded me of somebody. Now I can delete that doubt from my mind. I actually feel a little lighter now ahahah.

"Don't hang out with him. He's the classic bad guy that makes every girl cry. That's why he's friend with Jimin. They're the same" she scoffs as she pronounces that name.

"But it looks like Jimin is changed. I haven't seen him with a girl for a while. Perhaps..." I say and hit her shoulder with my elbow.

"Don't you even think about that!"

Now I'm eating dinner. I don't know why but my homesickness is growing. But I'm rather at school or home. So it doesn't make much sense. Maybe I'm just tired. After eating I decide to refresh my face with some cold water.

I cup my hands under the faucet and put some water in between my hands. As I splash it on my face, I feel every single drop sliding on my skin. A few drops stop at the tip of my nose for a couple of seconds and then fall into the sink. Some others are on the tip of my eyelashes, making my eyelids feel heavy. After drying up, I decide to go to bed and rest.

It's been a very long day, but for some reasons, I feel like, from now on, days are going to be much longer than they used to be.

As I slowly wake up, I hear some birds chirping outside. It's a weird sensation. I try to be as emotionless as possible, but I really can't. I feel confused. Before standing up I say just one word:

"WHITE"

That's how I want everything to be. White.

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wheredostarsgowhenyoudie · 3 years

Text

You'd never know what day your life would change. It could be today or tomorrow. It could be a day when the sun reigns in the sky or a day when stormy clouds rule. It could be a day you're happy or a day you're down. No one could tell. But when it happens, you'll know it, because suddenly everything is different and nothing will ever be the same again.

The day it happened, Merlin still wasn't convinced that Arthur wasn't lying when he told him he acknowledges that he has magic and that it doesn't change the fact that he's still an idiot.

The warlock wanted to believe him. He really does. But when one had been living in the shadows of lies, deceit and fear for as long as he had, it couldn't be harder to step into the light and accept that it was real.

Merlin hated that he couldn't be fully at ease with Arthur and the knights. He hated seeing the hurt in the prince's eyes every time he would wince when the royal would draw a sword or prepare to give an order. Merlin also noticed that the knights had been taking turns, keeping him company on his chores and going out of their way to ask him questions to learn more about his magic.

Merlin wasn't oblivious to their intentions. He knew that his friends were doing it to show him that it's alright to be himself around them. But as much as he appreciates their effort, try as he might, he still just couldn't erase the nagging fear at the back of his mind that Arthur would change his mind and decide that burning at the stake is where he belongs and that the knights would agree with him.

The worst part was that even if they do, Merlin would only understand their choice. They had been breaking the law by lying to Uther just to save his head. While Gwaine had no qualms deceiving the king, he knew the rest of the knights had their apprehensions. And Arthur, well it was him that Merlin feels most sorry to. What kind of friend does it make him if Arthur had to lie to his own father to protect him?

There's no question that Merlin couldn't have picked better friends. But what does that make him? For someone who has his secret out in the open, Merlin still doesn't feel free. Sometimes, he even finds himself believing that maybe he will never be.

It might just be so that for all the trials and tribulations magic had brought into his life, in the end, it will still be the one constant he can rely on.

Merlin barely managed to catch his breath on his way to Gaius' chambers when Gwen came running to him.

"Gwen?" he asks, instantly worried for the first friend he made in Camelot. "What's going on?"

"It's Arthur, Merlin!" Gwen answered. "Uther sent him and the knights to search what's causing the villagers' fright in the Forest of Merendra. Arthur sent me to inform you to take the shortcut and bring food and extra towels."

Merlin frowned. "When was this?"

"Just right after you left. They wanted to wait for you but Uther was insistent, and they couldn't tarry, else, Uther would be suspicious."

"I know that," said Merlin, knowing she was trying to assure him that they didn't leave him by choice. "I'll catch up with them. It should be no problem."

"Good," Gwen smiled before taking off the satchel strapped on her shoulder and handing it to him. "I prepared everything you might need. Now all you have to do is get a horse and leave." Then, taking the basket from him, she added, "As for the herbs, let me deliver them to Gaius. I'm sure he won't mind."

Merlin beamed, amused at her preparedness. "Thanks Gwen. I owe you," he expressed, clutching the supplies to his chest and running past her and into the stables. "And please tell Gaius I've gone after the prat!"

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Arthur couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the body lying still in the middle of the forest. He took a quick scan around the area just to see if they were being watched. It was a pity he got separated from the knights.

His own experiences with magical creatures had taught him to be wary, but he couldn't for the life of him, abandon the knight's code and turn away from a potential damsel in distress. And somehow, even if he wasn't willing to believe it at first, knowing that his idiot of a best friend has magic and could find him wherever he was, was a reassurance of its own kind. Not that he'll ever admit it to Merlin. The idiot would never let him hear the end of it if he does.

But just in case, he unsheathed Excalibur and prepared for an attack.

Carefully, he turned her so he could see her face.

"A princess?" he gasps, eyes instantly drawn on the silver tiara on her head. He had never seen anything like the pale blue dress she was wearing.

Arthur quickly reached a finger under her nose to see if she's still breathing. He couldn't help but worry what her presence here would mean if his assumptions were right.

To his relief, he had barely lifted her when she began to stir. He watched as chocolate brown eyes slowly blinked into awareness.

Gently, he helped her to sit up, making sure to support her back to keep her steady. The feel of his gloved hand on her back must have done the trick and she shrieked, jumping in fright of him. He would have laughed if she didn't look so scared.

"Oh, dear Merlin!" she exclaimed.

Arthur frowned. "You know my manservant?"

"Ahm," she started to say, and he easily caught onto her confusion.

"Forgive me, please," Arthur quickly apologized, making sure to step away to assure her that he meant her no harm. "My name is Arthur. I mean no threat to you, my lady, but I found you unconscious in the middle of Forest of Merendra. Tell me, where are you from? Do you remember how you got here?"

"Forest of-" she trailed, and he waited patiently as she finally seemed to absorb her surroundings. Her eyes widened in shock and she gasped, raising a hand to her forehead. "Oh, Hermione, what have you done now?"

"Hermione?" Arthur's face brightened. "Is that what they call you? What kingdom are you from?"

"I-…" she bit her lip in thought. "I'm sorry. Who did you say you are again?"

"Arthur. Arthur Pendragon, at your service," he reintroduced, waiting for recognition to dawn on her.

He didn't expect amused laughter to be her reaction. "Seriously, where are we? Is this some kind of a theme party? Are you in cosplay? Is that it? Well, I certainly can't remember drinking enough for this," she rambled. "Wait, I must be dreaming! That's it, isn't it? I'm dreaming, or I must be under a spell…A pensieve? But I don't remember…"

The prince listened to her patiently, mentally taking note of the words in her rant that he finds unfamiliar. Eventually, she stopped on her own and turned to him.

"Let's try that again, shall we?" she suggested. "Where are we?"

Arthur sighed but had no choice but to acquiesce. She still hasn't confirmed who she is and what she's doing dressed so thinly in this cold, or why she doesn't seem too worried at the thought that she might be under a spell. "We're in the Forest of Merendra in the Kingdom of Essetir. We're miles away from Camelot."

At this, her eyes widened and she pulled away from him. "Camelot?" Then, sounding fearful now, she asked. "And you're telling me you're King Arthur? As in THE King Arthur? Are you messing with me?"

"Well, no, it is my father, Uther, that is king. I'm only a prince. But I don't understand why you find this so hard to believe. Surely, you've heard of Camelot?"

She didn't get to answer though as the roars of the linen wrapped beasts finally caught up to him. Quickly, he helped her get to her feet and readied to defend.

"Well if you're Arthur, then what are they?" she asks, mystified. He couldn't help but wonder if she'd hit her head real hard that she still thinks she's dreaming.

But the pondering would have to wait as the creatures began to surround them.

'Anytime now would be great, Merlin.' He thought before he answered her.

"They're soulless animals' corpses being controlled by a sorceress."

"So they're dead? Like mummies?"

"You need to get behind me," he instructed, eyes at the beasts, only to startle when she stepped right beside him instead.

"How do we fight them?"

Arthur's first instinct was to tell her off for foolish bravery but one look at the advancing beasts told him there was no time for that. She at least needs to know what they're up against. "Fire, we need to burn them. But normal fire isn't enough. We need to-"

"It isn't working!" she was screaming before he could even register that she was holding a stick and one of the walking dead beasts was suddenly set ablaze.

"How did you?" he asked, before realization dawned on him and he turned to her in disbelief. "You're a sorceress!" he accused just as a lion jumped at him and he dodged, seeing her do the same in the corner of his eyes.

"What?" The girl, Hermione, scoffed, looking very much offended. "Flipendo!" she screamed before a light shot out of her stick and hit a tiger in the chest. "No, I'm a witch! Now, quickly tell me how to defeat them! Normal fire isn't working."

Arthur fought a headache from coming. Fate must be punishing him for treating his manservant so cruelly. As if dealing with one Merlin isn't enough…

"They're creatures of magic. The fire must be enchanted to destroy them."

"Of course," she breathed, eyes widening as though she'd just made a wonderful realization. Arthur barely moved his foot before he heard her say, "Stay back and don't move," and then, "FIENDFYRE!"

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Merlin had barely stepped into the forest when he felt it - magic both light and dark and so intensely heavy that he won't be surprised if he could touch it just by reaching out his hand.

He hurried his horse to the source of the screams and light, but nothing could have prepared him to what he saw.

A girl dressed like royalty was standing before a disgruntled Arthur, her arm outstretched and preventing the prince from taking any step farther as they stared down the army of mummified beasts advancing towards them.

His heart all but leaped out of his chest at the sight of the phoenix erupting from her wooden stick.

"ARTHUR!" he yelled.

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The frightened voice sounded very much like his manservant, but the prince couldn't keep his eyes away if he tried, gaping as the fire bird flew to devour the whole beastial army, leaving nothing but ashes on its wake.

He only breathed, alert and mortified when the phoenix started to turn on him. Before he knew it, Merlin had thrown his own weight to push them both out of harm's way and onto the ground, a move they soon found unnecessary when the fire bird released an ear piercing screech before drawing back and disappearing into thin air, leaving their eyes to settle on the lone girl standing in the middle of the devastation.

Legs apart, back straight, eyes ablaze and unrelenting, and with her hair crackling of magic - she looks like the perfect embodiment of an avenging female angel if they'd ever seen one.

No one said a word until she broke the silence.

"Is that enough?" she asked, eying them expectantly. "Are we safe now?"

"Huh," was the prince's unintelligible response, the only one he could manage after seeing what he saw. But he saw her brow lift higher and knew she was awaiting his answer.

"Yes," Arthur finally agreed, "I suppose that will do it." Then turning to the astounded warlock lying on his back beside him, he says, "Merlin, I think she just beat you in the most glamorous display of magic."

"You're-" she started to say, but the use of magic must have drained her and she began to sway.

Arthur hurried to help but Merlin signalled he let him instead, still feeling the lingering trace of unfamiliar magic in the air. It felt like his own and yet so different.

"SIRE!"

"Merlin!"

The voices came from the knights who arrived just in time to see Merlin carry the now unconscious girl in his arms.

"Who is she?" he found himself asking.

"I don't know," Arthur said, sounding as puzzled as he looked, staring at the sleeping damsel. "She seemed lost. She didn't even know who I am and yet, she protected me." Looking at his manservant, he asks, "Is she alright?"

Merlin nodded.

"Merlin, you alright mate?" Gwaine asked, seeing him look so perplexed.

This time, Merlin didn't nod, unsure of it himself.

He just witnessed magic unlike anything he'd ever seen.

But then she stirred on his arms, the tip of her stick accidentally touching his arm and Merlin's breath was caught at the feel of her magic humming and causing his skin to tingle with warmth.

"I think I need to speak with Kilgharrah."

A/N: Chapter 7 up! Read it here at...

#merlin #bbc merlin #hermione granger x arthur pendragon #hermione granger x merlin #merin and arthur pendragon #au #friendship #adventure #romance #fanfiction

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