#I will summon him into existence to defend himself right here on Tumblr and you would not be prepared for *that*.

[lehdenlaulu]

I'm still eternally amused by people, apparently very earnestly, trying to have IWTV/TVC ship wars.

Like, it is a little aggravating. But mostly just hilarious.

(Slightly but not entirely related: people also keep declaring things about the story, characters etc. with deep conviction, and then it turns out their sole point of reference is essentially some 20-second TikTok summary. Like, babes, please at least read one of the books before you pretend to know what you're talking about.)

[robininthelabyrinth]

The Quiet Room

- Chapter 6 - ao3 - (previous tumblr pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5)

The Lan sect’s rules said Learning comes first, and that was because learning was the root of all things.

Humans were changeable and ever-changing, molded by their heritage and their environment; it was through careful education that they learned to comprehend goodness – it was only through constant learning that they could keep themselves walking on the path of righteousness.

Learning from books, learning from others, learning from one’s own mistakes; it didn’t matter.

What was important was that you couldn’t stop learning.

You had to keep moving forward.

Lan Wangji had for some time entertained the thought that his life had stopped when Wei Wuxian’s had. It had felt as though it had: it felt as if his heart had been irrevocably shattered, like a priceless vase that had once contained all his tender feelings – all those feelings that, lacking their container, would now slip through his fingers forever, leaving him as empty as a soulless puppet. He’d thought he was doomed never to love again, never to learn again, all his mind consumed with nothing by memories.

He’d been wrong, of course.

Even with Wei Wuxian gone, he was still learning.

There were his recent meditations on the subject of silence and noise, for one.

There were his wards, for another.

Lan Sizhui was a polite and thoughtful child, inquisitive but a little shy and hesitant, a little fearful to assert himself – a little too quiet, in a way that Lan Wangji was starting to be able to recognize as being not good, a silence and reticence born of concern and anxiety rather than genuine introversion. Luckily, there was also Lan Jingyi, who was and had always been the liveliest and most spirited of children, and yet he, too, was just a little bit too loud in a way that reflected his own method of displaying anxiety, another startling realization that was brand new.

Lan Wangji had always associated quiet with reserve and self-control, noise with carelessness and recklessness, but being in the controlled chaos of Qinghe and really sincerely listening to it, accepting it, came with its own set of revelations. He found that there were people who were naturally loud and those that made themselves be loud, just as there were those who were quiet and those who were forced into quietude. Lan Jingyi worried just as much as the next person, but he displaced those feelings through distraction rather than through the force of his willpower, taking on the role of clown or hero as suited each moment, unafraid to cast himself in the role of aggressor if it would allow Lan Sizhui the chance to play the mediator. The subconscious division of roles allowed Lan Sizhui to feel useful and in control, reducing his anxiety, while Lan Jingyi got to feel taken care of, which reduced his own – it was good, in a way, but after some consideration Lan Wangji carefully took them both in hand and told them that they would need to be more thoughtful about it.

Lan Sizhui could not, should not, always have to be the peacemaker, always yielding and kind and gentle and quiet: he deserved to be loud, too. He deserved to be assertive, to be heard, to feel entitled to take up space regardless of his utility to those around him. He should never feel like he had to pay in service for the right to exist.

And by the same token, Lan Jingyi shouldn’t feel burdened to always have to be the one to take the first step, always acting as the driving force, the loud and opinionated one. He should have the opportunity, and the obligation, to think through what he was doing or saying, to be thoughtful and careful, to sometimes yield if he wished; he should be granted space of his own to make sure that his actions were what he wished them to be rather than some impulse.

Lan Wangji only wished he’d had the wisdom to tell Wei Wuxian the same thing while he’d been alive.

He’d been so short-sighted when he was younger, at first unable to recognize how he felt about the man and then unable to figure out how to speak with him – he’d been unable to break his own habitual silence, and equally unable to see the depths concealed in Wei Wuxian’s brash arrogance, especially towards the end. Like Lan Jingyi, Wei Wuxian’s reckless courage was genuine, especially in the happy days of their youth; like Lan Jingyi, when things got bad, Wei Wuxian had taken refuge in more of the same, building himself walls made of noise that were designed to keep everyone out.

Wei Wuxian might have been noisy and loud, right to the very end, but in his own way he’d been just as alone as Lan Wangji in his excess of quiet.  

The next generation, Lan Wangji thought fiercely, would do better.

He felt comforted by that thought.

The children were chewing over Lan Wangji’s words as they walked along the outmost ramparts of the Unclean Realm, already inured to the glittering barrier that hung in their sky, full of arrays and inscriptions – they were accompanying Lan Wangji on his daily walk.

The Nie sect’s doctors had a very different regimen for curing illnesses than the Lan sect’s, he’d found. Thirty-three strikes of the discipline whip: in both places he’d gotten stitched back up, but while the Lan sect doctors had allowed him to retreat into seclusion, prescribing medicine and rest and self-reflection, the Nie sect doctors insisted on coupling medicine and meditation with exercise. Intermittent and gradual exercise, meant to increase flexibility and reduce muscle atrophy – it wasn’t really that different from what Lan Wangji had been left to do on his own back at home, but he found that it was easier to struggle against his stubborn body when he had company to encourage him to take that extra step beyond his limits, their voices pushing him when his own willpower was insufficient. Even the silent presence of the two children, walking beside him, helped him find the reason to keep going.

Truly, there was much to consider on the subject of quiet and noise, of loud and soft, of loneliness and isolation and how no amount of either introversion nor extroversion could alone save you from them.

Lan Wangji was still thinking it over when he heard a new noise.

It was also an old noise, painfully familiar from all those days of war – before he even consciously identified what the sound was, his back had straightened, his legs sinking into a prepared pose, his mind already summoning his spiritual energy to the forefront in case he needed to defend himself.

Cultivators, flying on swords at speed.

Lan Wangji looked up and saw them: men and women both, a small group – a forward scouting troop, small enough to be subtle and sneak ahead to see what was happening but large enough to ensure someone would be able to return to the main force and warn them if they did find something.

They were dressed in the colors of Yunmeng Jiang, and it was Jiang Cheng leading them.

Lan Wangji’s back stiffened.

He had not seen Jiang Cheng since the massacre at the Nightless City, although he’d heard the stories of how he had turned against his own shixiong and led the greatest of the forces that besieged the Burial Mounds. He’d decided then that he’d never wanted to see Jiang Cheng ever again – he hadn’t been able to comprehend how Jiang Cheng could do a thing like that to Wei Wuxian, who he’d loved.

He still didn’t understand, but he thought, perhaps, that he ought to be a little less hasty in judging others by his own standards.

He’d done enough of that.

“Hanguang-jun!” Jiang Cheng called, seeing him, and pulled ahead of all the other Jiang sect cultivators, leaving them hanging back warily. Lan Wangji turned to face him, conscious of the two young children still clinging to his hands and now half-hiding behind his robes – conscious, too, of the shimmering but translucent barrier that divided them from Jiang Cheng, the barrier that had been raised to protect the Unclean Realm from Lan Wangji’s own brother and all the mistakes he had made, well-meaning as they were. “Hanguang-jun, good, you can tell me, what is the meaning of…”

Jiang Cheng trailed off, his eyes suddenly wide and almost bulging from the force of how hard he was staring at Lan Wangji.

“Jiang Wanyin,” Lan Wangji said politely in greeting – or, well, politely enough.

“Lan Wangji,” Jiang Cheng said in return, his voice sounding strangled. “What…happened?”

Far too much to explain, so Lan Wangji didn’t, just waited for Jiang Cheng to continue with a more specific question.

“I mean, uh. The beacon went off,” Jiang Cheng said. He was still gawking, looking as though he were about to fall off his sword any second. “The – you know the one, the one that shows when a sect’s barrier defenses have been activated. I thought...”

He’d assumed there was an invasion, Lan Wangji realized, and had rushed over at once to try to help forestall it. It was a reasonable assumption, and a noble response: having once lost everything without being able to rely on the help of others, Jiang Cheng now sought to be the help that he had not had.

It was the sort of thing a righteous person would do, and in line with what Lan Wangji thought he’d known of Jiang Cheng’s character.

And yet…Jiang Cheng had still turned his back on Wei Wuxian.

Time and time again, he’d turned away fro him.

“I came to find out what happened, why they put up the shield,” Jiang Cheng continued. “I brought people with me to help, though I left them back a ways so it wouldn’t be an insult. And now I’m here and – and you’re here – and you’re…just…it’s…Lan Wangji, what happened to your forehead ribbon?”

Lan Wangji arched his eyebrows. “Is that your primary concern?”

Jiang Cheng waved his hands around, almost flailing, and Lan Wangji couldn’t quite help but feel a sudden stab of amusement – and then of sorrow, because the flailing was almost painfully familiar. He had seen Wei Wuxian do much the same when he encountered something unexpected, whether some threat or some new maneuver by the Wen sect or, in one notable instance, the unanticipated appearance of a fish in a place where one would not normally expect fish to be.

“I have taken a leave of absence from the Lan sect,” Lan Wangji finally explained, deciding to be magnanimous and take pity on his former comrade in arms. “The Nie sect has permitted me to remain with them while I determine my next course of action. As for the shield, there is no imminent invasion. The situation is – complicated.”

Jiang Cheng huffed. “You don’t say!”

Still, the explanation seemed to help steady him, somewhat, and Lan Wangji observed that Jiang Cheng did not look his best: tired, with circles under his eyes and an unhealthy skin tone. Too much work, too little rest, and probably nightmares…because of what had happened to Wei Wuxian, perhaps? But if so, why had he done it in the first place?

“I cannot let you in,” Lan Wangji added, even though technically he had one of the only remaining guest tokens that still functioned. Jiang Cheng nodded, seemingly having expected that. “I can escort you to the sect leader’s quarters to have your request for admission approved.”

That the person approving the request would probably be Nie Huaisang, Lan Wangji did not say – not so much out of caution, which would probably be justified, but rather out of a completely inexplicable urge to see Jiang Cheng start flailing once again upon finding out.

Was this how Wei Wuxian felt all the time?

Interesting.

He began to walk again, the children at his sides slowly coming out, and Jiang Cheng did him the courtesy of not mentioning how slow and stiff he was, although Lan Wangji thought he remembered enough of Jiang Cheng’s mannerisms to interpret the twisted grimace on his face as he glanced over time and time again as a look of concern.

After a little while in which Lan Wangji walked and Jiang Cheng floated alongside him on his sword, the Jiang sect cultivators lagging behind by a respectable distance, the children getting over their fear to start looking around again, Jiang Cheng finally cleared his throat.

“There’s a medicinal blend of herbs that can counteract the anti-clotting effects of the discipline whip,” he said. Lan Wangji glanced at him: Jiang Cheng was staring forward, not looking at him at all any more. “It makes it heal faster. I can pass the prescription along to the Nie sect’s pharmacists, if you like.”

Jiang Cheng had also been struck by the discipline whip, Lan Wangji suddenly remembered. It had been a matter of deep embarrassment for him during the war, making him reluctant to remove clothing even when they were rancid with blood and poisonous fumes.

“Thank you,” he said, and for some reason the children took that as their cue that Jiang Cheng was actually all right and burst out in a flood of questions.

Lan Jingyi wanted to know how Jiang Cheng’s clothing had gotten to be such a vivid shade of purple, while Lan Sizhui was more curious about his sword and how shiny it was – the concerns of children, unburdened by the memories or concerns of adults. Their questions made Jiang Cheng smile, and Lan Wangji thought briefly of the orphaned Jin Ling, who had been temporarily given to Jiang Cheng’s custody to pick up some of the traditions of his maternal sect. A fancy way of saying that the Jin sect wanted him out of the way for a few years until he was worth teaching their own ways to, but Lan Wangji suspected Jiang Cheng would have taken any excuse at all to remain close to his kin.

“What, now children aren’t too noisy for you?” Jiang Cheng asked Lan Wangji, and for the first time it occurred to Lan Wangji that the tossed out words, broken off and abrupt, might be meant as a friendly tease.

“I am reevaluating my relationship with silence,” he said, and Jiang Cheng smirked, amused.

“I bet you are,” he said. “Nie Huaisang alone would drive a man to distraction…”

Lan Jingyi laughed and clapped and that, and, inspired, Lan Sizhui followed suit.

And then, suddenly, Jiang Cheng frowned.

“A-Yuan,” he said, and Lan Wangji was suddenly cold from head to toe, the chattering of the children suddenly too loud in his ears: he had forgotten that Jiang Cheng had also visited the Burial Mounds. “That’s – that’s A-Yuan, isn’t it?”

“Jiang Wanyin…” Lan Wangji started, his voice sticking in his throat, then trailed off. He did not know what he could say that would work to convince Jiang Cheng that he was wrong when he was right, but neither could he admit to the truth. Even if Nie Mingjue had been kind enough to allow Lan Wangji to come to the Nie sect to stay, and to bring the two children with him, that had been under the premise that they were Lan sect children. If he ever found out that Lan Sizhui had been born surnamed Wen…

Nie Mingjue would not hurt a child, he was too righteous for that. But he might not be inclined to let that child grow up in his sect, either.

Jiang Cheng’s face was twisted in a strange sort of way, as if he couldn’t decide to be angry or relieved. “I thought he’d died,” he murmured, more to himself. “I thought…what is that?”

Lan Wangji was momentarily confused by the question, focused as he was by the terrifying implications of Jiang Cheng’s discovery, but then he saw that Jiang Cheng’s gaze went further into the distance.

He turned to look, then felt twist of unpleasantness deep in his belly: there was his brother in the sky, flying to the main gate on Shuoyue, and beside him was Jin Guangyao.

Why did you have to bring him? Lan Wangji thought, unhappy, but he already knew the answer to that. His brother trusted Jin Guangyao. Why wouldn’t he bring him?

If only he would trust the rest of them as much as he trusted that liar.

“We can discuss Lan Sizhui later,” Lan Wangji said, careful to emphasize both the surname and the courtesy name he’d given him – painfully obvious now that he thought about it, though at the time it had seemed only appropriate, the only name he could bestow that fit – and quickened his steps. “Now that my brother has arrived, things will become difficult.”

He wondered, a little bitterly, if his brother had even noticed that he was gone, or if he had been so thoroughly forgotten in his enforced ‘seclusion’ that it hadn’t even been thought of as a possibility.

“Lan Wangji!”

Lan Wangji came to a stop at Jiang Cheng’s shout. Suddenly full of anger, he turned his head back – surely Jiang Cheng didn’t hate Wei Wuxian so much that he wouldn’t let the matter of a small child go, even in the midst of a crisis?

Jiang Cheng was pointing into the distance. Strangely enough, it was not in the direction of the main gate, where Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao were even now landing, but somewhere even further beyond.

“Do you see it?” Jiang Cheng demanded, and his eyes were suddenly wild, his breathing disordered; he seemed far more disturbed than he had when he’d recognized A-Yuan. “Lan Wangji, tell me that you see it!”

Utterly lost, Lan Wangji focused his gaze on the far horizon. It was the same scenery as he’d seen there the past few days, the interspersed richness of the low valleys that quickly arced up into the mountains that surrounded the Unclean Realm. There was nothing there that was unusual…

Lan Wangji spotted a very faint glimmer.

Sun, he thought, the reflection of sun – sun off steel.

All of a sudden, he wasn’t on the ramparts of the Unclean Realm but standing beside Jiang Cheng on a rough-hewn fortress barely worthy of the name, watching the horizon grimly as the damned Wen scout’s flare did its work and the amassed forces of Wen Chao’s troops began to move inexorably in their direction. They would come, he had known, and they would kill them all if they could; it would take everything they had to stop them, and to survive long enough just to retreat once again.

For some of them to survive.

“Invasion,” he heard someone say, their voice hoarse, and only a moment later realized it was himself who had spoken. “Invasion…it’s an army!”

“It’s the Jin sect,” Jiang Cheng said, staring blankly as if he couldn’t believe what his eyes were telling him. For once, Lan Wangji understood him completely; he was similarly shocked. “They’re wearing gold, you can see it from here…the Jin sect has sent their armies here? How could they even think to dare? Chifeng-zun will annihilate them!”

Lan Wangji’s throat worked, and for a moment he felt drowned in the quiet once more, his voice not wanting to cooperate with him, his entire being willing or even wanting to return to the solace of seclusion if it would only mean that he wouldn’t have to hear the horrible din of war once more. But he was not a coward, and would do what he must – even speak of things that felt impossible to be spoken.

“That complicated situation I mentioned,” he said, and Jiang Cheng turned to look at him. “My brother has either conspired with or was duped into assisting Lianfang-zun in an attempt on Chifeng-zun’s life through destabilizing his qi and inducing a qi deviation.”

Jiang Cheng’s jaw dropped. “They did what?!”

“Chifeng-zuns remains alive, but is confined to his bed,” Lan Wangji continued, ignoring the interjection. “Nie Huaisang was the one who ordered the shield raised, saying that there might be an attack – I thought he was overreacting, but apparently not.”

“If Jin Guangshan can take over the Unclean Realm while Nie Mingjue is incapacitated, he can say that the incapacitation is worse than it really is,” Jiang Cheng said, abruptly getting it. Lan Wangji had forgotten how much he enjoyed working alongside those from Yunmeng Jiang, Wei Wuxian most of all but also in his absence Jiang Cheng, who was smart and did not require too many words to understand. “Everyone knows Nie Huaisang’s a good-for-nothing – it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch for the Jin sect to claim that they came here at the invitation of the Nie sect to ‘rescue’ them, and remained in order to manage the sect on their behalf. Better that than have Chifeng-zun recover and come after you in vengeance!”

Lan Wangji nodded.

“But surely they didn’t think they’d be able to get away with it? Even if they could manage it for a while, as soon as the confusion cleared up, all the other sects would throw a fit…”

“Jin Ling,” Lan Wangji said, and Jiang Cheng blanched, seeming to realize the problem at once. His beloved nephew legally belonged to the Jin sect; if he dared to protest their actions, wouldn’t they be sure to take him away? As for the Lan sect, Lan Xichen would have been implicated through his actions – they could hold his participation over his head, forcing him to pick between supporting them and losing face for the whole sect, which would in turn weaken it. And that was assuming that Jin Guangyao didn’t somehow manage to talk Lan Xichen into thinking it was all for the best regardless…

There were only four Great Sects left, now. If the Lan and Jiang did nothing, who would be left to stand up for the Nie?

“I have to get inside. Nie Huaisang will need my support,” Lan Wangji said, but instead looked down at the children beside him.

“Go,” Lan Sizhui said, releasing his hand and stepping back away from him. “I’ll take Jingyi and hide in the room we’re staying in. You won’t need to worry about us – go, do what you need to!”

Jiang Cheng flinched as if he’d been struck.

Lan Wangji glanced at him. “The Jin sect army,” he said. “However unlikely, there’s still a chance that we are misinterpreting their motives.”

“I’ll go find out what I can,” Jiang Cheng agreed at once. “How many there are, what can be done…I’ll find out and report back.”

Lan Wangji tossed him the guest token he’d been given. “Be cautious,” he said. He still hadn’t forgiven Jiang Cheng for what he’d done in the Burial Mounds, but he was willing to wait until a better time to talk it over with him – now was not the time to try to gain understanding.

Jiang Cheng nodded and left at once, and Lan Wangji saw the children off, then hurried to do the same.

By the time he made it to the main hall, his brother and Jin Guangyao were already there, and Nie Huaisang was confronting them with nothing more than a fan gripped in white-knuckled hands and a glare.

“– dare you talk as if he’s gone mad, as if he can’t be trusted?” Nie Huaisang was shouting. “You should know how seriously we take such words here!”

“It is because of that that we are worried,” Lan Xichen said, and now it was Lan Wangji’s turn to flinch. His brother’s voice sounded just the way it always did, comforting in its familiarity: he sounded calm and patient, thoughtful and wise, sure of himself. He sounded as if he knew better than anyone else what was right and what was wrong. “Huaisang, you don’t know how much your brother has been worried about suffering the way your father did. He knows that qi deviations can be subtle as well as harsh – he understands that his reason might be the first to go –”

“And so you took it upon yourself to decide that for him?” Nie Huaisang sneered. “You keep saying that he understands, that he would understand, all that. But that’s a lie, isn’t it?”

“Huaisang, please,” Jin Guangyao said, his voice just as gentle as always. “You know we only want what’s best for your brother.”

“Do you?” Nie Huaisang said, but he was still looking at Lan Xichen. “You knew he hated the quiet room, er-ge. You knew that he’d never wanted anything to do with it – it’s not like that was anything new! That was something he’d said repeatedly, year after year, month after month, for his entire life. You knew how he felt about it, and you decided to ignore what he wanted in favor of what you wanted. How is that wanting what’s best for him?”

“I was only concerned for his health,” Lan Xichen said, sounding injured by the accusation. “I had nothing but good intentions…”

“Your intentions are immaterial compared to your actions,” Lan Wangji said, and they turned to look at him, both of them surprised – maybe they really hadn’t noticed he’d left the Cloud Recesses.

Well, he thought bitterly: they’d notice now.

He took a step into the room, then another.

“Your actions are this,” he said, ignoring the way his brother stared at his forehead, unadorned by the ribbon that had been there ever since he’d been a small child, receiving it for the first time from his uncle as a precious gift. “You did not trust or respect your elder brother’s word. You disregarded his decision, treating him like a child who can’t be trusted to make up his own mind – you put your own desires ahead of his, and in doing so, betrayed him. Did you really think he’d thank you for it?”

Did you think I’d thank you one day for authorizing our sect’s attack on the Burial Mounds without ever having to explain yourself? Even our uncle respected me enough to tell me at once what he had done and let me decide how I felt about it, accepting the consequences of his actions!

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen murmured. “You’re still healing, you shouldn’t be wandering around…where is your self-restraint?”

Where is your forehead ribbon, he meant, and Lan Wangji shook his head.

“Wangji, you don’t understand,” Jin Guangyao said, and Lan Wangji stiffened at the unasked-for intimacy of the address. “Whatever da-ge said to you, whatever he did, you cannot allow others to guide you by filling your heart with incomplete echoes of what you have lost. You will never forgive yourself.”

Lan Wangji was so furious that he could not speak. Was Jin Guangyao implying that Nie Mingjue had, what, seduced him? That Lan Wangji held his love for Wei Wuxian so cheap that he would have his head turned by the first person willing to make up to him in such a fashion?

“I should hope you know my da-ge better than that, er-ge,” Nie Huaisang said coldly, still speaking only to Lan Xichen. “Or is this something else where you will believe the words of that lying dog over everyone else and the evidence of your own reason to boot?”

“Huaisang, that is unwontedly cruel, and uncalled for,” Lan Xichen said, tearing his eyes away from Lan Wangji. “Whatever Wangji has decided, I do not blame Mingjue-xiong for it.”

Implying, Lan Wangji supposed, that it was Lan Wangji that was to blame for it.

“Put the blame where it belongs,” he said stiffly, staring at his brother as if looking at a stranger. “Was I to leave Chifeng-zun where I found him, half-dead and dying in our jingshi where you left him at Lianfang-zun’s incitement?”

“You think I don’t recognize that I’ve done wrong?” Lan Xichen demanded. “I will speak to Mingjue-xiong and apologize – I will explain my reasoning and let him decide how I can make it up to him. But please, there is no call for you to be cruel to A-Yao. Do not blame him for my mistakes.”

“What about for his lies?” Lan Wangji asked. He took a breath, sharp and unhappy, and suddenly it was desperately, urgently necessary to know the truth. “Brother, tell me you didn’t know. Tell me you weren’t in on it – that you didn’t try to kill Mingjue-xiong in order to cover up your affair.”

“What, kill, you think I would try to…Wangji! Affair?” Lan Xichen exclaimed, and he seemed genuinely shocked. “No, Wangji, you’ve misunderstood entirely! It’s not like that at all. Mingjue-xiong and A-Yao, they were once lovers –”

“No, we weren’t,” Nie Mingjue said.

They all turned at once. He was standing at the door, all but clinging to the doorframe to keep himself standing; he was swathed in bandages and still stuck with needles. None of them had heard him or seen him approach – he must have heard them shouting and dragged himself over.

He sounded tired. He sounded quiet.

He looked at Lan Xichen.

“I was never Meng Yao’s lover,” he said. “Not now, not before, not ever. And Xichen…you knew that, didn’t you?”

[dreamkidddream]

Can I request a teen mc who is like YUJI from jujutsu kaisen as in they are the vessel of SUKUNA PLSS? Like maybe they can manifest SUKUNA in his curse form as another being as well like megumis dogs? (If you don’t know JJK can you just do a chaotic teen mc? ❤️)

WHEW THIS ALMOST DID NOT GET POSTED SINCE TUMBLR DELETED PARTS OF IT.

So let me tell you: I started reading the manga but have yet to watch the anime 😭 it’s really good though and I’m probably gonna start it this week, but I’m not sure if I’m 100% confident in writing Sukuna. BUT this request was too good to pass up, so if you don’t like it I will write the other scenario instead just let me know!

So for these headcanons, I made it to where MC is Sukuna’s vessel like Yuji, and that they can manifest him if needed. But, I still kept it to where he’s not exactly a good guy with MC’s best interest at heart. Reader is gender neutral and younger than the Bros, so the dynamic is more family instead of romance just a heads up! Hope you enjoy!

TW: Minor cursing, spoilers for Lesson 16 in Mammon’s, Beel’s, and Belphie’s part

The Brothers with Teen MC who’s Sukuna’s Vessel

Lucifer

Was very irritated with this revelation, but still curious

Still annoyed either way though

He already had to make sure that you stayed alive during your stay and not disappoint Diavolo, but now he had to make sure that you kept this curse at bay too!

#GiveLuciferABreak2021

He’s very skeptical of you: not only because of you being a young human but also being a human with essentially a demon inside of you

A very troublesome demon if not kept under control at all times

Honestly Sukuna was like an buzzing gnat who wouldn’t just go away, so Lucifer didn’t see him as a threat personally. More of a nuisance that could grow into a threat if remained unchecked

After you explained the whole situation, he still assigned Mammon to you, but he made sure to personally keep an eye on you too

Your presence was seen as a threat at first, but as time passed, he, along with his brothers knew you meant no harm, but the same couldn’t be said for this Sukuna

He wanted to have faith in you, but he couldn’t bring himself to fully believe it. After an incident at RAD with another demon attempting to attack you, your powers (or rather Sukuna’s) came out to play

He saw the markings, the extra eyes, the malice spread on your face, and he then realized just how serious this has become. You were able to gain control back, but the damage was already done. You were so distraught, sobbing before you, trying to apologize and swearing that you didn’t mean for this to happen, all the while Sukuna was laughing, morphing a mouth on your cheek

It was so bizarre to see, and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity for you. You were such a kind person, always going out of the way to spend time and help wherever you could. You essentially became a part of the family, but he knew that you didn’t feel accepted because of him

After that, your “punishment” was to practice holding control over Sukuna with Lucifer, every day after school (which can just be seen as him checking in on you on a daily basis, and trying out different techniques to make sure repeats of this incident doesn’t happen again). Meaning that you trained on manifesting him at will, instead of him completely taking over

Not gonna lie he’s acting like a proud dad when he sees you making progress and Sukuna just sitting in your head tired of all this positivity lol

Lucifer cares for you, he’s accepted you fully even if you hadn’t for yourself. He wants to protect all of his family (including you), and he doesn’t want to think about what could happen if Sukuna becomes a danger to the Devildom or Diavolo...

Mammon

Is impressed but also low key nervous

Humans are not suppose to be like this, ya know!

He’s not the smartest demon in Hell, but he definitely knows that you can’t summon demons without a pact, and he knows your baby face doesn’t have one with the King of Curses

You had to break down the whole deal, and it made him even more confused and distressed

Was still acting annoyed being your designated babysitter, I mean seriously, just how annoying can you be?!

Just kidding! You guys are totally partners in crime in no time and you both make Lucifer get 2x the wrinkles now

“MC, let the Great Mammon show you how’s it done!”

“Mammon, you’re going to be the reason why we’ll be strung up again for the third time this week.”

“It’s going to be both of your idiots’ faults. Such a pathetic display.”

SHIT HE FORGOT YOU GOT A WHOLE CURSE INSIDE YOU

He HATES whenever Sukuna makes an appearance, whether you call on him or he makes his own special appearance. He’s like a gritty and more sadistic version of Lucifer, minus the style and uptight personality (and honestly the finesse too), which made him 10x the more aggravating

He honestly hates Sukuna in general. Here you are, his MC, one of the only people to stand up and defend him always, struggling to live a normal life because of him. It was bad enough that you got sent down here with no warning, but now you got sent with him, and from what Mammon could hear with the conversations between you two, he wasn’t exactly your BFF

Denies being excited about seeing you perform your cursed techniques, but only because it brings him out (and he guesses it’s a little cool that you know how to do it). But human, you don’t need that lame curse, you got the great demon himself to protect you!

On a darker note, you made Mammon swear to you that if Sukuna took over and you for some reason couldn’t gain back control, that he would protect himself and his brothers first before worrying about you. He hated this even coming up, you should be worrying about what’s the next scheme you guys could pull off, not some weird sharpie colored entity causing problems. But you were dead serious, and you made him promise that if the worst case scenario ever happened, he would make sure it’s taken care of

Mammon realized you were the missing piece to their family. It felt nice to have someone depend on him, to actually treat him with respect and care for him truly. He refused to accept Sukuna as a part of you (really he just acted like he didn’t exist, which he didn’t in his mind), and he refused to let him or anyone else harm you

You’re family now, and he wasn’t going to lose anyone else ever again

Leviathan

Oh look, another normie

Wow, you’re such a normie that you’re even talking to yourself through a manifested mouth on your palm-wait WHAT

You broke it down to him, and you just...stared at you, with a blank expression on his face. Until-

“OMG THIS IS JUST LIKE THE ANIME-“

How ironic lol

He practically had a fanboy overload moment whenever you showed off your cursed techniques to him after he begged asked you countless times

You guys remember that vine with the kid saying, “I have the power of God and anime on my side”? Recreate that while doing your moves and he’ll be in awe and dying laughing at the same time

Will post it to his Devilgram and DevilTube

His envy will start to show at first. How is it that someone boring like you get to have all these cool powers and have an actual king reside in you?? You’re living the Shonen dream and not even grateful for it!

But this reality for him would soon shatter after he saw Sukuna for himself, and the way that he behaved towards you. The way that the curse would just look at with disdain in his eyes just made Levi’s skin crawl. He was made well aware that you were in fact not living the anime dream he thought you were. The look in your eyes reminded him of how he would feel whenever he felt like a scummy otaku, and from that point forward he would find ways to cheer you up

You can plan on having anime marathons, game nights, even talking with Henry (I hc that he can talk and understand aquatic animals) when you get into these moods. Anything that helps him get out of his funks he’s hoping it helps you too. You don’t deserve this type of treatment from anyone, especially someone that even he can no doubt eliminate

You were honestly one of the coolest people that he knows, and one of the strongest too! Not just physically, but mentally too. He can’t imagine what could be going on in your head since Sukuna became a part of you, but he knows that you’re strong enough to overcome anything that he throws at you. And if you had moments where you faltered or doubted yourself, that’s okay! Levi would be right beside you the whole way, doing anything he can to keep pushing you forward

Be the teen anime hero that he’s know you can be MC! You wouldn’t be his Henry if he didn’t have any faith in you, you know?

Bonus: you don’t have to worry about your anime nights being ruined after one night when Sukuna somehow found a spoiler to an anime that Levi was really anticipating became a very visual warning for the curse. Levi convinced you to let him take over, and whatever was said resonated with him because you never heard a peep after that, both out loud and in your head

Satan

Oh he was BEYOND fascinated

We all know how much Satan loves to read and how smart he is, so while you look at your condition as a curse (no pun intended), he saw it as an opportunity

Could you feel this curse coursing through your body? Did you feel stronger? Could he see through your eyes all the time or only when you let him? He had so many questions it wasn’t even funny

Very understanding of your situation surprisingly (but still called you dumb for eating Sukuna’s finger)

Satan would be one of the only people you could really trust when dealing with Sukuna. Yes, you trusted all of the brothers, but if you were really in a bind you could count on Satan to come up with a solution quickly

The only issue was his anger. Everyone knows just how angry he can get, and to avoid him ASAP if you even think he’s getting frustrated. Sukuna knows this too, and will be more than happy to taunt him to truly bring out his wrath. While he does need you alive (for now), it wouldn’t hurt to have some type of fun around here. Plus, this could cause your bonds with these brothers to weaken, and the weaker the bond, the weaker the will to help you keep him at bay and defeat him

But Satan knew better, and you did your best in keeping Sukuna away. He may be the Avatar of Wrath but that didn’t mean he was stupid. However, he did have one slip up unfortunately

You see, he was just having a bad day and already got into a spat with Lucifer, and you sensed that he certainly needed his space. So while you slowly backtracked to your room and from his path, Sukuna decided to be the evil ass that he is, and proceed to provoke him. What finally made him snap was his comment that, “You would be a formidable opponent if you weren’t in your older brothers’ shadow, but oh well. Can’t help who you come from I see.”

It took Beel, Mammon, and Lucifer to properly restrain him from ripping Sukuna (really you) limb from limb, with him laughing manically and you scrambling back in fear. Which called for a very long, detailed family meeting (of course after Satan fully calmed down) that resulted in mediated meetings between you and him for the next month. You felt guilty, you should have done better containing him, but you couldn’t predict whenever he decided to pop up!

But after a long talk, Satan didn’t blame you. He blamed himself for losing to his anger and especially blamed Sukuna. He decided that it was time to get rid of this pest once and for all. Be ready MC, cause once he puts his mind to something, there’s no stopping him

Prepare for your bonding time to be deep into books and practicing new hexes and curses. But don’t worry, it’s not always boring and Satan makes sure that you’re having some type of fun. He’s really doing this to have some sort of protection for you: whether it’s against Sukuna or himself. He wants you to know something besides your cursed techniques just in case they fail for some reason

Will shockingly want you to manifest the curse, one main reason is to obviously collect information on him, the other reason is to test said hexes and curses on him

Can a curse be cursed? Let’s find out

You helped Satan with him realizing that anger isn’t the only emotion that you can feel, and with you being so young, he wanted you to experience life as much as you can. And while you had an extra...passenger with you, he will do his best to make sure that it doesn’t get in the way of you enjoying life. It was nice to see a joyous smile on your face

Also you guys did find a hex that made Sukuna meow for the whole day and it was the best thing to ever happen with him lmao

Asmodeus

Honestly wasn’t really bothered with it at first. If anything, he treated it like hot gossip when you told him in the beginning

One thing he will say though: humans can be so revolting at times. I mean you ate a rotten finger, a cursed, aged, sharp, disgusting- you get the point. He did cringe at that, but everything else was pretty normal besides that

Still talked about your daily gossip, painted nails, the works. But recently, Sukuna’s name has been coming up more and more in your recent convos. Asmo, being quite the messy curious demon, wanted to know more about this curse

He really treated Sukuna like he was just your show and tell act and would want you to bring it out to see how he really was. He was amused with your cursed techniques, but he wanted to see more!

He heard you both talking with one another, and he wanted to see him in person! He hasn’t done anything and you’re among the seven strongest in Hell, so what could go wrong?

So much. So much could go wrong

And so much went wrong

After you manifested him, it went downhill from there. The large amount of control you did show caught his attention, but then it moved to the King of Curses himself. He was very delighted to see him up close for more than a couple of seconds, and took his time admiring his physique up close. It was fun for him, but not for you. Sukuna could feel your will slipping since your focus was being divided dealing with Asmo, so he took this as his time to shine

You had an exhausting day, and you were tired, which he used to his advantage. Asmo started to complain when Sukuna suddenly disappeared, but didn’t have a chance to voice it as your arm suddenly gripped the front of his shirt. He felt himself jolt, feeling his heart pumping. He looked into your eyes and realized that this wasn’t you, this was now Sukuna. The black markings that lined your face along with the new eye color (and the extra pair of eyes) came with a grin that stretched across your face

“What’s the matter? You were so eager to be in my presence, is it not to your liking now that the tables have turned? You claim to be one of the strongest, yet I would be able to kill you just being in this form-Ah, the brat is trying to come back, what a shame. Do me a favor, little Asmodeus, don’t insult me like this again. I am a King, and you will remember that. I might have to pay you another visit and take your heart with me next time to make sure you’re aware of that.”

He didn’t give Asmo time to answer, as his grip loosened and you were back. He saw you stumbling, shook out of his own thoughts and reached to catch you. He knew that this curse was an issue, but he didn’t understand just how serious this was, how serious it had gotten so quickly. The thought of Sukuna didn’t scare him, but the promise of him coming back just for him caused some worry. He wasn’t the weakest, but he didn’t want to hurt you! As much as he couldn’t stand his new found scorn of Sukuna, it wasn’t enough for him to take the chance of injuring you

You didn’t strike fear in him, rather the opposite. To see someone he has grown to care about be the one to try and bring his demise was...saddening. He could just feel his heart breaking at the notion. And if this experience taught him one thing is to be more understanding of what you’re going through

You remembered bits and pieces of the incident, and whenever you asked Asmo about it, he would divulge a tad in what happened, but wouldn’t go into too much detail. He didn’t want you blaming yourself, and he didn’t want you to distance yourself from him either. You already proven yourself of formindable you are ever since you gotten down here, and Asmo wasn’t going to let some jealous wannabe demon get in the way of that!

So no more talk of the thing, and whenever it did want to make an unsuspecting visit, Asmo would be ready. The thing was immune to most curses, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t be charmed to some extent, right?

Has covered the eye slits up with makeup and other beauty products every morning, becomes both of your favorite bonding activity. Anything to erase any evidence of it existing and to hear your giggles brightens his day everytime!

Beelzebub

Is very sympathetic of your ordeal

Has mad respect for you eating that finger though, even he doesn’t think that he would eat that

Maybe with some sauces and some Hellroast he might

Is another brother that tries to keep an eye on you. If this Sukuna really is as dangerous as you make him out to be, then he would make sure to be prepared if things went south

Beel’s motto: stay ready you ain’t gotta get ready

Will want you to practice your moves with him. Beel’s pretty powerful, and on muscles alone is one of the strongest brothers. He wants to make sure that you can recognize your full potential, and to always do your best. Expect to be in the gym or the HoL’s backyard working out and training majority of the week

Is thoroughly impressed with your cursed techniques

Beel doesn’t understand that while yes, you have a whole curse residing in you, doesn’t make you less of a human. He forgets that you still have some limitations, and you have to remind him at least twice a week. You gotten more powerful yes, but you still weren’t at Beel’s level

“You can do it MC! Don’t give up!”

“Beel this is over 500 pounds...are you forgetting that I’m still HUMAN-”

But you can never stay mad at him, he’s just too sweet and he means well. He genuinely wants you safe and prepared if anything happens with Sukuna, and if getting you buffed up makes him feel somewhat at ease, then you’ll deal with it

Shares his food with you sometimes. He makes sure that you eat properly too, so no skipping out on meals!

Great listener! Whether you’re complaining about class, talking about a new restaurant you’re interested in (he’s definitely tuned in), or venting about Sukuna, he’s all ears. Even gives you advice if you ask for it or if you really need it

Has encountered Sukuna while he took over your body once, and let me tell you, he was not happy at all

Beel is one of the brothers that are in touch with his emotions; he doesn’t really fly off the handle into a rage unless someone has done something to his family or if he’s being denied food. But now that you’re family and vulnerable not only to other demons but to this curse inhabiting your body, he wasn’t taking any chances

He made sure to be very clear when talking with Sukuna. He wouldn’t stand for anything happening to you, and he made sure that the curse would wish he stayed scattered if that boundary was crossed

Beel is a very protective big brother that’s constantly looking out for you all the time. Even if you feel like that you need to bare this burden on your own, he makes sure that you never feel alone.

He already lost Lilith, and he doesn’t want to lose you too. He won’t mess up this time

Belphegor

See, he knew that there was something wrong with humans, and you were living proof of that

How can you trust humans not knowing if they have another creature living within them?!

Whatever, he’s too sleepy to even care about it

And you weren’t one of the worst so...he guesses that you’re tolerable, but don’t push it!

In the beginning, he thought it was easy to manipulate you, but he could just sense that something wasn’t right with you (and no, it wasn’t because you were just human). He would hear you talking aloud to yourself, except that you were...responding to yourself too?

He thought you finally cracked up lmao

He brought it up as a joke once, but the way you reacted was tense and...ashamed? Oh, he just hit a gold mine. This could make things much more interesting. You shared a little bit of your story with this so called “King of Curses”, but he was smart enough to make a plan off of the information. Maybe he could take advantage of Sukuna like he is of you. Kill two birds with one stone

Well his plan backfired swiftly. After he was freed from the attic and went straight in for the kill, things went array. His hands were wrapped around your neck, he could-should see the life leaving your eyes, but instead he was met with Sukuna’s gaze. Belphie thought he planned this right, he made sure that he didn’t give you enough time to manifest him or to use your curse techniques, so how was this-

“You think I don’t recognize the look of bloodlust, you spoiled child? You were foolish enough to believe that you could get rid of me this easily like the brat?!”, and he was sent flying across the room. How was this happening, this wasn’t suppose to happen!-

“As much as I would like to see them die, they’re useful to me for the time being. Once they are of no use anymore, the only one who will be relishing in their demise is me. They’ll be dying by my hand, not by some weakened child.”

Those words still resonated with him still to this day. Honestly, the whole incident did. No matter how many times he tried to convince himself that you forgiven him and want to build a real bond together, his mind refused to erase that horrid memory, and he deserved it. When Belphie remembers back to that day, he remembers the horrified and heart breaking looks on his brothers’ faces, the way that your eyes show how betrayed and petrified, and how you were gasping out begging him to stop, before he comes out and puts everyone in danger

He felt disgusting, guilty, mortified, regretful, a disappointment. Those feelings only escalated after having them explain the truth to him, both about yourself and being a descendent of his dead sister. He could see how much you touched his family, and you extended that kindness to him too, and he just exploited it

He stayed far away from you for a very long time. He didn’t try to approach you at all, only staying in the planetarium or even the attic, to avoid crossing paths with you. He didn’t deserve to make a connection with you like his older brothers, as much as he wanted to. He was remorseful, it wasn’t because of the whole Lilith revelation, but because you really didn’t deserve that happening to you

You made the first move to make amends, to have a fresh start, and he couldn’t have been more grateful, albeit nervous. He was so terrified of messing things up again, but you were there to help keep him grounded. “I won’t lie to say that what you did was okay, but I’m willing to move on from it. You aren’t completely forgiven, but we can work towards fixing things, together.”

Belphie was shaken by Sukuna’s words, but he wasn’t necessarily scared of him. In fact, he would personally find a way to cast him out of your body and destroy him permanently as the perfect apology and thank you gift; the thank you for reuniting him with his family, and for helping them develop healthy relationships with one another. They weren’t as separate as before, and it made him feel so warm every time he thought about it

Not that he would ever say that to anyone

You both spent time together either napping or plotting for future LYS (Lucifer You Suck) pranks. And since Belphie is pretty good with magic himself, he would be teaching you some new spells or curses that you could use to protect yourself, even against the curse inside you

Belphie will make sure to not make another huge mistake when it comes to you ever again. He’ll have his little slip ups, but you were never put into harms way because of them. He doesn’t want to sabatoge this bond, and he wants you to truly be happy spending time with him. He’s not the greatest role model (obviously) and may be tight lipped about how he feels most of the time, but he really does have your best interests at heart

[honey-hippie-harper]

Winston, my beloved

HAPPY LATE BIRTHDAY @healing-winston-pratt !!!!!!

I’m not going to write you a huge ass letter because I already did that the entire day <3 but here’s your tumblr gift afghjafgsja it’s very short but I still hope you like it, and I hope you know how important you are to me, and how blessed I feel for having met you :’333333 <3 <3 < 3 <3

There are no words to describe how great of a person you are, and I hope we keep being friends for many, many years :’)

I love you <3

And I hope you like this agaghjaghjs (it’s just our canon divergence version of the Leroy-meeting-Maggie thing).

Doppelgänger

Maybe she would look less similar when Leroy was sober.

That’s what he thought back then.

Maybe the child from the janitorial team would look less similar to Nova once he was sober; because, well, it’s not that he was absolutely wasted the first time he saw her. He was only mildly drunk, to be honest.

But even then, he knew that he couldn’t think straight while in that state. Hence why, when he saw the kid from the janitorial team walking around and she was scarily similar to a younger version of Nova, he just let it pass. After all, back then, he was still thinking that, once he went to jail, it would be the last time he ever saw Nova. Upon being a little drunk, it made sense for him to be seeing Nova in places where she wasn’t.

However, one year later, when he was released from jail and saw her on the street once again, she still looked like a younger version of Nova.

Leroy was in his break from work, which he always used to go out to smoke, as it was a smoke-free building. The kid was coming out of the convenience store across the street, carrying a blue bag, and wearing civilian clothes instead of her Renegade uniform.

Now, Leroy wasn’t the best father figure that had ever existed on Earth. He had never defended he was.

But he was decent enough to recognize Nova when he saw her, and, even if her childhood pictures were embarrassingly scarce, Leroy had done a great part of the parenting and he had seen her. 

Had he done it correctly? Probably not, but Nova was still in one piece.

And she was in one piece because not everything had been that awful.

Could’ve been better, definitely. But it had been enough.

Sorta.

The point was…

Leroy remembered the kid version of her. And he remembered it because he had chased after her more times than he could count.

When he thought about little Nova, he often felt a twinge in his stomach, because, basically, they were too fucking stupid when she was younger.

Not that Winston and him weren’t fucking stupid now, but the brain cell Honey, Ingrid, Winston and him used to share was hopeless and it needed a goddamn therapist almost as much as they needed one, individually. When he thought about little Nova, he saw them posing with her like they were in a renaissance painting, that time a mosquito broke into her nostrils and her nose started hemorrhaging like a red waterfall when she was too rough at trying to take it out. Ingrid sat her on her lap, telling her to stop screaming because they were going to think she had punched her. The truth was, Nova wasn’t screaming. Rather, she was breathing so fast she was swallowing her own blood like nose drops and she was fucking choking.

No matter how hard Ingrid tried, the demonic sounds Nova was making ended up summoning the rest of the Anarchists, and that’s when they all gathered around Nova, looking like a cult adoring a bleeding statue.

Usually, when a tragedy happened, they just did dumb shit like that, and they always ended up gathered around her, panicking instead of doing something about it, and that’s why Leroy was pretty confident on the fact he knew what his freaking child looked like.

And she looked like that.

He had spent so many hours of his life staring at Nova, that he knew what that pitch black hair looked like. Her small eyes. The way her face became disfigured when she was mad, and even the weird thing she could do with her hands. That thing, where she would bend the upper part of her fingers, with the exception that, while Nova could do that with all of her fingers, the kid from the janitorial team seemed to only be able to do it with three of them.

She had the same chipmunk cheeks, and while the nose was a little different, Leroy was sure he had seen it somewhere else, in a person that was no longer here. And that nose was also too similar to that person’s not to be the same.

Maybe it was just an awful, scary coincidence, because the chances of this meaning something were extremely low, and it was overall impossible, to say anything.

Yet, when she bent down to tie her shoes, Leroy stared at her with the cigarette still into his mouth, maybe judging or maybe waiting for something that would more likely not happen.

At least, that’s what he thought until the moment something did happen.

Leroy had always been told, by a person who was no longer here either, that he had a pretty heavy stare. Heavy and acid, like the thing that came from his pores. And, apparently, the kid from the janitorial team agreed with that, because, after a while of struggling to try to tie her shoes (she didn’t look like a person who knew how to do such thing. She was improvising), she looked up and across the street, where Leroy was, staring.

And she stared back, frowning.

And for a moment, she didn’t look like her own person, but rather a doppelgänger of the teenager who would be waiting for him at home once his shift was over. And, frowning in that way, she was also victimized by the same phenomenon as Nova.

Because when she frowned –and probably when she cried, too- she looked like she was about to ask Leroy to join her revolution, right before putting on a ridiculous helmet and proceeding to destroy the city.

And that.

That was also too much of a coincidence to him.

Maybe, the next right thing to do would’ve been to help her tie her shoes, but Leroy didn’t, because he was frozen, despite his face being emotionless.

So, solemnly, he just nodded, as a way to greet her even from that distance.

In response, the kid stuck her tongue out towards him and told him to go fuck himself with her finger.

Then, she got up and started storming away.

Not even two seconds later, her shoelaces gave her what she had coming, and she fell on her knees.

Leroy pretended he hadn’t seen that.

He supposed that’s what she would’ve wanted.

[shadowamongfireworks]

UPDATED (Rewritten) THEORY

Deceit may have mind control-like powers that can make a Side more Honest

Deceit is known to have many abilities. He can shapeshift and Almost perfectly mimic any Side (potentially to the point of copying the theme music that comes with each of their individual appearances), he can keep a Side from talking about something, he has the power to let unknown Sides leave the subconscious, and it’s been shown that he can intercept the summoning of a given Side to take their place without them even knowing. He may have other abilities as well. He may also be able to make them tell the truth/the truth about how they feel. This power, which I will refer to as “Truth Control”, is displayed in the video clip above from Selfishness Vs. Selflessness.

Patton shows a variety of behavioral changes before and after Deceit’s butterfingers bowl trick.

After the trick is performed, Patton sounds and appears strangely relaxed, mellow even when he delivers his “I hope so too” line. This contrasts with Patton’s behavior during the trick. He gasps as the bowl is pulled from his ear, which may indicate he was experiencing discomfort and possibly some pain in that moment, and then as the trick ends he continues to stare at the bowl, seemingly in surprise. In the next shot we see him, he has suddenly switched to the behavior he displays when he says the “I hope so too” line. His vocal intonations when he delivers the line sound accurate for the English language at first, but in actuality, when an English speaker normally says “I hope so too”, their intonation would continue to descend on the last word rather than ascend like Patton’s voice did. Along with that, Patton’s intonation pattern in that moment is quite reserved compared Patton’s usual, more dynamic intonation patterns. It is also possible that Patton’s voice is slightly lower than usual as well, further reinforcing the unusually relaxed behavior. (To be frank, with all of these things being a contributing factor, in that moment, he sounds like he’s high, which was what made me realize something was wrong)

Patton says “I hope so too” in response to Deceit making the comment “Hopefully he’s better at defending than he is at existing”. Both of these lines can have multiple meanings depending on what words and context you focus on. Given that Patton is Thomas’ Defense attorney, it’s very likely that the “he” that Deceit is talking about is Patton. It is clear that Deceit’s comment is meant to be an insult, as he says “Hopefully [Patton is] better at defending [Thomas] than he is at existing”. Focusing on the “defending” part of the Deceit’s line, Patton’s response can be interpreted as him expressing the fear that he cannot successfully defend Thomas in the court case. Patton confesses twice later on in the video that he doesn’t know what he’s doing as a lawyer, first to Thomas himself, and later, during the self-cross-examination, as Lawyer Patton to Witness Patton. Focusing on the “existing” part of Deceit’s line, Patton’s becomes able to be interpreted as a self-deprecating response. It is known that Patton hides his negative feelings from the others. It was addressed in Moving On parts one and two, but seeing as how Patton wasn’t able to get a genuine understanding of what repression is and that he’d been doing it until Intrusive Thoughts, I doubt he ever actually did actually talk to the others about his insecurities and personal problems. In fact, there may be a specific reason he refrained from ever talking to them about his problems: his past.

There may be a more insidious meaning to the word “existing” that Deceit is using. “Existing” may be in reference to Patton’s role as Thomas’ Morality and Feelings. These roles are literally Patton’s reason for existing in the first place, and based on the Intrusive Thoughts episode, we may have reason to believe that he did some things we might view as ethically questionable as Morality. It was implied in the episode that Patton caused Roman and Remus, who were once one individual Creative Side, to separate into who they currently are, and put Remus, the manifestation of the ideas that Patton saw as bad and was trying to filter out, in the Subconscious while letting Roman, who represented ideas that Patton saw as positive, stay. There are also theories here on Tumblr that Patton’s filtering may have also resulted in Virgil’s existence, and it’s possible that Patton may have even filtered out parts of himself that he viewed as negative, potentially causing a Side that represents that side of Patton to be created. Patton thought what he was doing was right at that time, but later realized that he messed up really, really badly, and he has been regretting what he did and hiding the fact that he ever took those actions in the first place ever since. He feels like he has messed up his job and affected Thomas negatively in the process in a way that cannot be fixed, and he is scared of what the other Sides will think of him. Deceit may be secretly referencing Patton’s hidden past similarly to how he more openly called out the other Sides on their lies. He may be secretly threatening Patton with idea of his lies being revealed by him with the intention of psyching him out and compelling him to tell them about his past actions himself rather than letting the Dark Sides tell them, just like what both Deceit and Remus did with Virgil, but specifically without the others realizing. However, this interpretation of Deceit’s line most likely wouldn’t be realized by Patton until after the Truth Control fully wears off.

Following Patton’s line, he hits a last butterfinger from his ear, after which his expression changes from the unusually calm happiness (?) we saw when he delivered his line into this:

This expression may just be the Truth Control wearing off, but it also can be interpreted as a variety of negative emotions. My interpretation is that’s it’s an expression of fear related to what he experienced while under the Truth Control. There are a multiple possible options: A) He experienced a small but sudden gap in memory following Deceit’s butterfinger bowl trick and realized that that was the case as the Truth Control wore off, B) He realized that something, but he doesn’t know what, slipped through his filter and that he did not have control of it in that moment, or C) He was aware of what he said and that he didn’t have control over it, and he still remembers what essentially happened under the Truth Control after it wore off. This may also have also been accompanied by the realization of Deceit’s subtle reference to Patton’s past.

After this Patton appears to return to normal. Although, he does talk very fast when he’s explaining to Thomas what Deceit is trying to do with the court case, which may be a sign that he’s trying to hide what just happened to him. None of the other Sides or Thomas appear to notice this entire interaction, Virgil included. There are no shots that indicating anyone reacting to it at all. This may indicate that Truth Control is an entirely new power that Deceit learned after Virgil joined the Core Sides.

The exact moment Deceit most likely used this power was when he and Patton made eye contact just as Deceit did the butterfingers bowl trick. We can see in the footage that Patton’s eyes do not immediately rise to meet Deceit’s. As his gaze moves to Deceit’s, his eyes start out looking in the opposite direction of where Deceit is standing, then they move down towards the table, almost stopping at this point, and then he completes the eye movement and moves his eyes up to make eye contact with Deceit. Another thing is that his eyes stay wide open. Both of these details are important, because usually a person would blink during the movement and the movement itself would be faster and more direct, a straight-ish line rather than the downward arching Patton’s eyes take. (Watching the footage at normal speed, your brain processes that the eye movement when his eyes are nearly paused and looking towards the table.) This tells me that Thomas is drawing attention to Patton’s eyes, and making us subconsciously think about where he’s looking. The next shot answers that question for us: at Deceit, who is staring intently at Patton’s eyes. This moment is when Deceit finishes saying the word “defending”, a word which he puts emphasis on by drawing out each syllable with slightly more diction than the rest of the sentence, then continues the line, speeding up for “than he is at”, and then pauses for a second before saying “existing” in a more relaxed tone that almost sounds like relief. This sense of relief may indicate that he finished setting up the Truth Control on Patton. During the time the Truth control was being activated, Patton was still able to process what Deceit was saying; No interpretation of Patton’s line would make sense if he hadn’t been able to process the last section of Deceit’s sentence. This shows that Deceit (or maybe someone in general) must ask the controlled Side a question right before the control kicks in, so the Sides train of thought can start moving and be verbalized.

The briefness of the Patton’s behavioral changes in the butterfingers bowl trick section leads me to believe that this instance of it being used was either a test run of sorts, or again, as a way to psych out Patton. It is likely that Deceit will use this power again later on, although exactly how is uncertain. He could potentially use it to make the three remaining Core Sides tell their respective truths in one episode, or go one by one, most likely with Patton being last due to how important his past would be to the series as a whole. The reason Deceit is doing this is to get Thomas to be honest with himself, and he will stop at nothing to achieve that goal.

Does anyone have thoughts on this/the clip itself? Please give them if you do

[aion-rsa]

Dracula vs. The Marvel Universe! 14 Times The Lord of The Undead Fought Superheroes!

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Hey, remember that time Dracula fought the Hulk? Or the X-Men? Or Spider-Man? No? Well, you're in luck, because we do!

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Dracula. The very name conjures images of sexuality, corruption, and decadence. From the original novel written by Bram Stoker in 1897 to the moment Bela Lugosi donned the famed opera cloak in 1931, the character of Dracula has been an iconic horror staple.

In fact, Dracula has been the subject of over 200 films, second only to the number of films starring Sherlock Holmes. But films, novels, and television aren't the only genres that have contained Dracula’s bloodlust. Comic books have been a compelling source for new Dracula material. Marvel Comics in particular have been a happy hunting ground for the Lord of the Vampires.

After the easing of Comic Code restrictions in the early seventies, Stan Lee and Marvel were eager to explore classic monsters in the pages of their books. When the code loosened its grip, Lee and company were able to resurrect the four color boogiemen that lay forgotten for so long. In 1972, writer Gerry Conway and artist Gene Colan introduced Tomb of Dracula and a legend was born. Now there was a version of Dracula that borrowed from Stoker and Lugosi stalking the same fictional universe as Spider-Man and the Avengers.

Soon, writer Marv Wolfman would take over the writing chores on Tomb of Dracula and create one of the greatest continuing horror sagas in comic book history. Within the pages of Tomb of Dracula, Wolfman introduced the vampiric detective Hannibal King, Lilith (Dracula’s Daughter), and most importantly, Blade, the Vampire Hunter, who later helped kick off the current superhero movie boom.

Amazon has all your Marvel Dracula needs

Dracula existed within the Marvel Universe, but other than rare occasions not many Marvel heroes appeared in Dracula’s book, giving the title a sense of isolation from the rest of the Marvel Universe. That is not to say that Dracula has not stalked the titles of the mainstream Marvel heroes. Oh no, dear reader, the Prince of Darkness has cast his shadow on many Marvel heroes, making him one of the greatest, if often overlooked villains in Marvel history. Here is a look at times Dracula, the greatest monster of them all, has stalked the Marvel Universe.

Dracula Meets Spider-Man

Giant Sized Spider-Man #1 (1974)

In this tale, Aunt May is suffering from a rare blood disease because she’s Aunt May. Spidey learns that the only man that has the cure is an eccentric doctor that refuses to travel by plane. Spider-Man learns from Reed Richards that the scientist is traveling by ship, so Spidey gets his webbed ass to the ship to find the doctor.

Also on board the ship are members of the Maggia who want the formula, and of course, Dracula himself who is also after it. Hilarity ensues as Dracula dispatches the crooks one by one, and throws the Maggia leader overboard.

read more: 13 Essential Horror Comics

The book is a send up of the classic death at sea sequence of Stoker’s Dracula, as Dracula feeds off the Maggia onboard. While never featuring a direct confrontation between hero and vampire, this issue served as a warning...Dracula is out there.

Buy it on Amazon

Allied with the Avengers (1973)

Avengers #118

Ironically, one of the first times Dracula was drawn into the events of the Marvel Universe, he did so to defend humanity! In the Avengers/Defenders war, often considered to be the first true crossover in comics history, the Dread Dormammu opened a dimensional gateway to Earth. The Avengers and Defenders were stuck in Dormammu’s dimension so could not defend the Earth from an incursion by the savage Mindless Ones, headless beings that thrive on destruction. A group of super-powered champions on Earth, not knowing where the Mindless Ones were pouring on from, took up arms to protect their home.

read more: The Weird History of Marvel Superheroes vs Monsters

One of these beings was none other than Dracula, who along with such heroes as Power Man, the Fantastic Four, and Ka-Zar, fought back against the Mindless Ones. But don’t think Dracula was acting magnanimously true believers; imagine if a horde of beasts was smashing your favorite eatery. That’s what Earth is to Dracula, a theme restaurant with an all you can eat buffet of jugulars.

Yes, Dracula fought the Mindless Ones, but in doing so he made sure his food supply remained strong and proved to Marvel readers just how badass he was by taking on the Mindless Ones...creatures capable of going toe to toe with the Hulk!

The Creation of Baron Blood (1976)

Invaders #7

One of Captain America’s most enduring foes was created by none other than Dracula. What’s more evil than a Nazi vampire? Pretty much nothing, which makes Baron Blood one of the most vile creatures in the Marvel Universe. In the dark days of World War II, John Farnsworth was an English aristocrat obsessed with vampire lore. When he travels to Transylvania, he encounters Dracula, who transforms Farnsworth into the living dead.

Dracula sends blood to England to punish the country for the actions of Dracula’s nemesis Jonathan Harker. As Baron Blood, Farnsworth fought the Invaders, Captain America, and even his own brother who adopted the heroic persona of the first Union Jack.  

read more: The Best Modern Horror Movies

Blood’s days of fighting for the Axis were cut short when the Sub-Mariner staked the bejesus out of him. Blood was resurrected in the modern day by a minion of Dracula and fought a legendary battle with his old foe, Captain America. Now, a Nazi vampire is pretty badass, but a Nazi vampire created by Dracula himself? That’s some legendary bloodsucker right there!

Available in - Invaders Classic: The Complete Collection Vol. 1

Dracula vs. Doctor Strange (1976)

Tomb of Dracula #44

The Lord of Darkness fed off Doctor Strange (he probably tasted like sage, cinnamon, and quickly forgotten dreams), in the pages of Tomb of Dracula #44. In Strange’s own book, Dracula locks the Sorcerer Supreme in a dungeon so he can watch the embraced Doctor arise as a vampire. That’s quite a sense of irony Marvel’s Dracula possesses, huh?

read more: Doctor Strange Comics Reading Order

Little did Dracula know that Strange astral projected out of his body before Dracula could finish the fateful bite. Strange uses his astral form to mess with Dracula who furiously arrives at the dungeon after days of being mocked and prodded by the wizard.

An awesome fight ensues between a vampiric Doctor Strange and Dracula which Strange wins by conjuring a blazing crucifix. The edge in the battle went to Strange who seemed to be one step ahead of Dracula, but let us not forget that during their first encounter Dracula easily dispatched Strange with one bite. Dracula’s mistake was letting Strange have time to plot, but the first struggle would foreshadow a climatic future encounter between the magician and vampire.

You can read it here.

Dracula vs. Howard the Duck? (1980)

Howard the Duck Magazine #5

Not all Dracula appearances in the Marvel Universe are legendary but that doesn’t make them any less cool. The following is a treatise on why comics are awesome.

While visiting Cleveland, Dracula spots Howard the Duck. Thinking Howard to be a midget in a duck suit, the Lord of the Undead bites Howard (did I just type that?) but is disgusted by the non-human blood flowing in Howard’s veins. However, Howard is transformed into Drakula (not Duckula or Quakula?) and preys on other ducks.

read more: Upcoming Horror Movies Heading Your Way

Howard is restored to his normal self and is actually able to stake Dracula before the vampire can feed off Howard’s girlfriend, Beverly Switzer.

Dracula Joins The Defenders (1981)

Defenders #95 

Ah, the Defenders. Long before they were edgy TV stars, they were the parking place for awesomely odd Bronze Age characters.

In one of the non-team’s most memorable storylines, the Defenders were being beleaguered by the Six Fingered Hand. With newer members Hellcat, Gargoyle, and Son of Satan in tow, the Defenders arrive back to Doctor Strange’s mansion only to be attacked by a possessed Dracula. It seems the Six Fingered Hand had gained control over all vampires.

Proving his awesomeness, the Son of Satan breaks the Hand’s control of Dracula, and agrees to help the Vampire Lord take back Transylvania from the Hand. The team with powerhouses like Strange and the Asgardian Valkyrie are just window dressing as the Son of Satan kicks the Hands' collective butts, destroys a metric ton of vampires by summoning sunlight, and saves Dracula’s undead bacon.

read more: 13 Essential Dracula Performances

This was the first time Marvel used Dracula as an anti-hero in a super-hero title, an honorable villain who was as comfortable in the role of defender of his people as he was bloodsucking fiend. It was a brief union, but among his many roles in the Marvel Universe, Dracula will always be recognized as a Defender.

Dracula vs. The X-Men (1982)

Uncanny X-Men #159

Monster mash-ups are a staple of the genre. While not traditional monsters at all, mutants meeting Dracula have the same cache as Dracula versus Frankenstein or the Wolfman, it’s just a match made, erm...not in heaven.

Structured like a classic horror film, Uncanny X-Men #159 sees Storm the victim in a very odd mugging. When someone overpowered the weather goddess and cut her throat, Storm suddenly finds herself wanting to die, inviting a stranger through her window at night, drawing back from Kitty Pryde’s Star of David, and shunning sunlight. You don’t have to be Bram Stoker to see where this is going and an epic confrontation between vampire and mutant takes place. The X-Men take out Dracula’s monstrous rat and canine minions, but fall before Dracula, all except Nightcrawler who has the faith to drive the vampire off with a makeshift cross.

When Storm arrives, Dracula finds that he cannot control the primal Storm, who stands tall and proud. In an awesome moment, Dracula tells Storm it was her inner strength that compelled him and after a standoff, Dracula retreats. This was Claremont at his finest, giving each X-Man a moment to shine and writing a classic and pretty damn scary Dracula in the process. The issue created an indelible bond between the X-Men and Dracula, one that stands till this day.

read more: Frankenstein - Comics' Greatest Monster

In the 1982 Uncanny X-Men Annual #6, the battle between the X-Men and Dracula continues as Kitty Pryde is possessed by Dracula’s daughter and one of his most enduring foes, Lilith. It was another compelling confrontation that deepens the threat Dracula had on mutantkind.

Dracula vs. Thor (1983)

Thor #332

Not satisfied with feeding off ducks, mutants, and wizards, Dracula sets his sights on embracing Lady Sif. In Thor #332, Dracula succeeds in feeding and turning Sif. In issue 333, Thor must face a Dracula empowered by god blood (comics = awesome), and an embraced Sif.

read more: The Best Horror Movies on Netflix

This story was significant in showing what a powerhouse Dracula was and established the idea that if Dracula fed off a non-human being, he would be fueled by their powerful blood. Thor managed to free Sif, but not before fans realized that Dracula was a threat to everyone, god, mutant, or human.

The Death of a Legend (1983)

Doctor Strange #59-62

In Doctor Strange #59-62, Strange and a group of companions including Dracula hunters Blade and the vampiric detective Hannibal King close all the plot threads left over from Tomb of Dracula and close the door on Marvel’s vampires for a quite a while. Aided by Avengers Captain Marvel (then Monica Rambeau) and the Scarlet Witch, Strange and company race to secure the Darkhold, a book which contains the Montessi Formula, a spell that will rid the Earth of Dracula and the curse of vampirism. Keep in mind that the Darkhold is an ancient magical book that created vampires in the first place.

read more: The Bleeding Heart of Dracula

These issues are the type of storytelling that made Stern a legend, taking elements from Dracula’s appearance in X-Men (the first mention of the Formula) and Thor (whom Dracula is reluctant in facing when he sees the other Avengers by Strange’s side). By the end of the story, Strange does recite the formula and Dracula is finally destroyed.

Like all good vampires, Dracula would eventually return, but the storyline has an epic sense of finality to it. After years of being plagued by Dracula, the Marvel heroes fight back destroying all vampires. For now…

Dracula vs. The Fantastic Four (2000-2001)

Before the Fantastic Four: The Storms

Dracula’s shadow is cast far and wide across the history of the Marvel Universe. Before they were legends, Sue Storm and Johnny Storm find a mysterious amulet. The young siblings are attacked by zombies seeking the amulet for its power, zombies controlled by none other than Dracula, who lays inert, staked and comatose, using his mind to control the zombies so they may deliver the amulet to the vampire.

read more: The Best Horror Movies on HBO

The Storms, before they were Fantastic, must stop the zombies from taking the amulet to Transylvania to resurrect their puppet master. Even immobile, Dracula proves to be one of the most evil and capable beings in the Marvel Universe.

X-Men: Apocalypse vs. Dracula (2006)

The cool thing about this series is that it gave added weight to the idea that Dracula has had an impact on the history of the Marvel universe and that his ties to the world of mutants did not begin the day he tried to embrace Storm. Dracula begins embracing members of Apocalypse’s cult which wakes the legendary mutant to defend his followers. The book ties the history of the Van Helsing family into the war between mutant despot and vampire lord.

You can read it here.

Dracula on the Moon (2009)

Captain Britain and MI:13 #10

The so-called end of vampires arc in Doctor Strange was a large scale storyline bringing in many mainstream Marvel mainstays, but it had nothing on the grand tapestry of cool that was the Dracula arc in the late, lamented Captain Britain and MI:13 title. So, Dracula gathers a sect of vampires on the moon to set up a front for his attack on Earth. Just typing that sentence was awesome. Dracula forms a non-aggression pact with Dr. Doom and only the magic of MI:13 led by Captain Britain and Pete Wisdom has a hope of stopping Dracula.

read more: The Best Horror Movies on Hulu

During the course of the arc, fans find out how brilliant Pete Wisdom is, that Dracula still holds a grudge against Muslims stemming back from his Vlad the Impaler days, that seeing Black Knight duel Dracula is pretty much better than anything else in the world, and that the legendary sword Excalibur wielded by a Muslim woman is more effective against Dracula than any crucifix.

Seriously, stop reading this and track down this storyline, we’ll wait.

Hulk vs. Dracula 

Part of the Fear Itself mega-event, this battle between two legendary monsters took a form fans did not expect. During the course of Fear Itself, the Hulk was transformed into Nul, the Breaker of Worlds. When Thor knocked Nul into the Carpathian Mountains, the Hulk became a threat to Dracula’s sovereignty. Once again taking up the mantle of reluctant defender, Dracula most take on Nul with a group of vampires, the Forgotten at his side. The event book was another step into the modern evolution of Dracula and was the first time he appeared alongside the Hulk.

An X feud renewed (2011)

X-Men: Curse of the Mutants

Dracula’s return to the X Universe also served as the introduction of the modern interpretation of the Lord of the Undead. Gone is his rocking ‘stache and suave opera cape, arriving is the white hair and Coppola-esque armor. The story is pretty cool, if needlessly complex at times, and introduces Dracula’s son, Xarus. Xarus goes to war with dear old dad with the X-Men and a group of Atlanteans caught in the middle. The whole thing ends with a fierce reminder, family or not, do not mess with Dracula.

It's available on Amazon.

The new look for Dracula would stay consistent across all Marvel media as it was this look that appeared in an episode of Avengers Assemble on Disney XD. The story arc also brings vampirism closer to the X-Men as never before as Jubilee, once the most innocent of the X-Men, is transformed into a vampire. What Claremont and company began in the early '80s continues today as Dracula’s influence on the X-Men looms like a constant shadow over the heroes!

read more: 31 Best Streaming Horror Movies

Read and download the Den of Geek NYCC 2019 Special Edition Magazine right here!

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Feature Marc Buxton

Oct 20, 2019

Dracula

Doctor Strange

Marvel

31 Days of Horror

from Books https://ift.tt/2pzZdMQ

[torestoreamends]

Mine to Make: Chapter 2

Scorpius is ready to take on the league, and Albus is ready to face someone from his dad’s department. What neither of them are ready for, however, is to see each other for the first time in seven years...

Beta’d by @abradystrix.

N.B. This fic is complete on AO3, so binge read away if you want! Here on tumblr I’ll be posting a chapter every day until it’s all done. 

Read it on AO3

*

II Home

“Hello.”

Albus jumps at the sound of the voice and looks up. There’s a girl standing in the entrance to the shed, grinning at him. She has bright silver hair that shines in the setting sun, and her coat is made of a myriad of glossy feathers that aren’t really black, but a thousand other colours – turquoise and midnight blue and emerald and deep purple.

He frowns at her. “Um... hello?”

She gives a slightly awkward little wave that reminds him a tiny bit of Scorpius, then she laughs and gestures around. “I saw you sitting here,” she says. “I wanted to know if you’re okay.”

Albus looks around at the broom shed and shrugs. Right now he’s fine; he’s out here, but he gets the point. Okay people don’t hide in broom sheds in their parents’ yard.

“I’m alright,” he says. “I like sitting out here. It’s quiet.”

She nods. “Okay. That’s good.” She hangs in the doorway for a second, then she steps forward and reaches out a hand. “I’m Delphi,” she says. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Albus takes her hand and shakes it. “Albus,” he says.

Her eyes go wide and she releases his hand, stumbling back a step. “Albus Potter? So Harry is your dad.”

Albus hugs his knees to his chest and nods. “Unfortunately.”

“Oh.” Delphi’s face falls as she looks at Albus. “Is that not a good thing?”

“Not really,” Albus mutters.

She pauses for a second, looking uncertain. She twists her hands together and seems to consider what to say, then she takes a step back toward Albus and sits opposite him on the floor, crossing her legs. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I don’t really like my family either. But I always think that the family you make for yourself is more important than the family you’re born with.”

Albus looks at her for a moment, considering. He thinks about Scorpius, the only person he’d choose to be his family if he could. “I suppose so.”

“You can choose,” she says. “The people you want in your life. If your dad is difficult then... maybe you don’t need him. Maybe you just deserve better.”

Albus frowns, processing that. “Do you actually think that’s true?”

Delphi nods. “Of course it is.”

A slow smile spreads across Albus’s face and he leans toward her. “Okay. Thank you.”

 “Accio keys.” Albus directs his wand into the top of his backpack and waits. Nothing. “Accio keys,” he repeats, this time with considerably more force. A faint rattle can be heard somewhere in the depths of the bag, but still no keys come flying out. He sighs, closes his eyes for a moment to try and get rid of some of his frustration, then tries one last time, giving his words as much authority as he can. “Accio keys.” This time, a set of four silver keys come shooting out of the bag, miss his hand by inches, smack him hard on the forehead, and fall with a clatter onto the garden path.

“Ow,” he groans, rubbing his forehead. “Stupid things.” He snatches them up, finds his front door key, and stuffs it into the lock. It’s difficult in the dark, but even after a year away he hasn’t lost the knack, and a moment later his front door swings open to welcome him home.

He picks his bags up and steps over the threshold. There’s a freshness to the air when he inhales. It smells of home. After so long away it’s pure relief, and he closes and locks the door behind himself, shoulders relaxing as he does, because he’s here. He’s safe. He can be entirely himself for a couple of hours.

He kicks his shoes off and pads down the hall to the kitchen, feet sinking into the carpet.

It doesn’t feel uninhabited in here. There’s not a speck of dust anywhere, but that’s not unexpected. His amazing housekeeper, Mrs Peters, has been in twice a week while he’s been away, and it feels like he’s barely been gone. There’s a note on the kitchen table, and he leaves his bags by the door and goes across to read it.

Welcome home.

There are some bits and pieces in the fridge.

It’s good to have you back.

Mrs Peters really is an absolute hero, he thinks as his stomach rumbles at the thought of food. It’s been such a long and busy day – it always is in the lead up to a race – and he hasn’t even had time to think about food until now. If it had been left up to him he’d have had nothing to eat, but now... He opens the fridge and discovers two bowls of pasta salad and a whole lasagne sitting on the shelves among milk and butter and fresh apples. Now he has lasagne, and if that isn’t the perfect homecoming gift then he doesn’t know what is.

If he tried to do magic now he’d burn the house down, so he sticks a slice of lasagne in the oven and leans against the worktop while it heats up, rubbing his shoulder and enjoying the familiarity of his surroundings.

It’s not really a homely space. There are no photos or objects to remind him of the past. There are no memories here. But that’s a good thing. That’s the way he likes it, clean and clinical, with its ruby red (definitely not scarlet) doors on all his kitchen units, the glittering black granite of the work surfaces, all the kitchen utensils perfectly ordered and hanging from hooks on the walls where he can grab them, the Mimbulus Mimbletonia thrumming happily to itself on the window ledge, and his potion-making area set up and stocked with fuel and little bottles of ingredients. It may not be homely, but it’s home, and what’s more, it’s his home.

When his dinner is ready he wolfs it down as fast as he can, far too fast to properly savour it, then he grabs his bags and traipses upstairs. With his hunger attended to, his mind turns to his current biggest problem: tomorrow.

If there was one downside to coming home, back to the UK, then it’s this. When he’s here he’s in far greater danger than he is anywhere else in the world. Here his family have an all-consuming level of fame.

He hasn’t read a newspaper since he got back, but he’s seen the headlines in shop windows and on street corners and he knows his dad is mentioned in almost every single one. The chance of running into his family, or someone who knows them, or even worse, someone who recognises him despite all his attempts to disguise himself, is exponentially greater here, and that sits on him like a dead weight. It’s that jeopardy, that fear, that’s allowed him to stay out of the country for as long as he has. But he doesn’t regret coming home; he really has missed it, and occasionally, somewhere inside the bit of his heart that he tries to forget exists, he does wonder if being found wouldn’t be so bad after all.

One of his favourite things to fantasise about while he was lying awake at night during those long days touring Europe, was what would happen if someone one day did find him. He’s imagined his dad or one of the Aurors hunting him down, or running into his mum out shopping one day. If he closes his eyes he can summon up visions of a tearful reunion, full of hugs and apologies and forgiveness. It’s stupid, he knows, because it would never go like that, especially with his dad, but on his lowest, loneliest days it’s something to hold onto.

He nudges his bedroom door open, drops his bags on the bed, and crosses to the window. Night is falling outside, and the city lights sparkle in the river down the hillside below his house. He’s set high up here, with a view out towards more rolling hills and countryside. Flying almost non-stop for the last seven years has given him a good head for heights, and it’s hard to imagine living somewhere low down, but that’s not why he bought this house on the hillside. He bought it because, even though he can’t see it from here, he knows that somewhere across those rolling hills is Ottery St Catchpole, and if he flew in a straight line from this window, he would reach his parents’ house.

He leans his forehead on the cool glass for a moment and closes his eyes. When he opens them, past the mist of his breath on the window pane, he sees the state of his hair. If there’s one thing that’ll give him away faster than anything else, it’s his hair. The Aurors must have been given his description; everyone in the country probably has his description, and that description will include the words ‘hair like Harry Potter’.

With a heavy sigh he drags himself out to the bathroom. Tomorrow he has to face someone from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and if any Ministry official is likely to recognise him then it’ll be one of the people from his dad’s department. He can’t put a foot wrong tomorrow, especially where his appearance is concerned. That is, if he even decides to face the person from the Ministry. They could just run. That’s what Delphi wants to do.

He bows his head over the sink and draws his wand, starting to scythe away the overlong strands of hair, trying to get the shave as close to his scalp as he can without cutting himself.

Facing the Ministry would be reckless, he knows it would, but at the same time... If he does this and gets through it he’ll know for sure that his disguise works. Plus he likes it here, he wants to be home, and he can’t stay if there’s no league to race in. Helping to defend it is in his and Delphi’s interest. This is how they make their living after all. If the money doesn’t convince her, nothing will.

Running a hand over his now prickly scalp, he lifts his head to look at himself in the mirror. His hair is a disaster, it always is when he cuts it all off. Every bit of him is a disaster really, so at least the hair matches now.

The potion that changes his eyes to a deep, mahogany brown is starting to wear off, and they’re in the weird, hazel transition stage where his vision is a tiny bit blurred as the effects fade. Then there’s his shoulder, which is prickling again, like it almost always is. He strips his shirt off so he can inspect it, revealing the long, dark, curling tattoos down his arms – from shoulder to mid-forearm on the left and from shoulder to elbow on the right. They’re meant to obscure the scars he’s picked up from two separate accidents while he’s been racing, but he’s learned over the years that Fiendfyre burn scars don’t like to be hidden, and the one on his left arm is standing out as a particularly ugly, ferocious shade of red today.

He sighs and scrubs the heel of his hand against his eyes, then he opens the bathroom cupboard and takes out one of the many jars of burn salve he keeps in there, which he smears across his left shoulder and down his arm. It’s not instant relief, but it helps soothe the prickling pain a little bit, and he exhales as the salve starts to spread a gentle cooling sensation across his skin. He spreads more salve down his right arm, then he puts the jar away, closes the cupboard, and faces himself in the mirror once again.

His exhausted self, with the roughly shaved hair, tired hazel eyes, pierced ears, and scars that are beginning to fade from angry red to pink, stares back at him, and he blinks a couple of times. Things may not be perfect – things are never perfect – but being here helps. And now he’s here he’s not going to leave. Not for a few months at least. Delphi promised a few months. So tomorrow he’ll deal with whatever the Ministry and his dad have to throw at him, then he’ll get on with his life, just the way he’s been getting on with it for seven years.

“The future is mine to make,” he murmurs to himself, running his fingers over the small pair of wings tattooed on his left shoulder blade. Those have always been words he’s clung to, and now they’re more resonant than ever. They’ll get what they want out of tomorrow if they’re smart, sensible, and take control, so that’s going to be the plan of attack. Now he just has to convince Delphi...

 In the end, Albus doesn’t have chance to convince Delphi. When he arrives at the training ground the next morning it’s to discover that he’s the first one there and Delphi is nowhere to be found. For a moment he wonders if during his absence the league has found a new training ground and he’s in completely the wrong place, but the fresh scorch marks on the pitch and the blackened Fiendfyre crates lying against one of the walls of the clubhouse tell him that this is exactly where he should be and that everyone else is just late.

He mounts his broom and kicks off from the ground; it’s nice to get a few laps in before the air gets clogged up with people. This was the first training ground Delphi brought him to, when he was still just seventeen years old. He’d been flying for years in secret at school and at home, practicing, getting faster. He found that even if his bullies were also on brooms, they couldn’t catch him. Flying was the perfect, sometimes the only, way to escape, and his desire to disappear from the world manifested in the sort of quiet work ethic that saw him spend hours flying every day, in rain, wind, storms, and snow as much as in sunshine. Still, as good and as quick as he was, nothing could have prepared him for his first visit here – this place gave him a literal baptism of fire. It’s strange to think how familiar it is now, seven years later, familiar enough to almost feel like home.

He banks round the end of the pitch, shoulder grazing the charms put in place to stop anyone who shouldn’t from seeing what they get up to in here. The magic ripples beneath his touch, and a couple of sparks fizz off the barrier and dissipate. He makes a hard left turn in towards the pitch and dives, hurling himself and his broom as fast as he can at the grass below.

The instant before he hits the ground, he pulls up and goes shooting across the pitch, the tips of his toes brushing the overgrown grass. His heart is pounding, and his whole body is alive with exhilarating adrenaline. Flying is so much like falling, except when he’s flying he knows it’s in his power to stop himself before he hits the ground. Flying lets him put himself in terrible danger and also lets him be his own saviour. That might be his favourite thing about it.

He weaves his way across the pitch, then zooms back up into the air for some more laps and dives. It’s not long before he’s joined by other racers and they begin a sort of mid-air ballet of trying to avoid each other’s manoeuvres. Albus survives the next hour unscathed and decides it’s time to take a break. He hovers just off the ground, the tips of his toes barely brushing the tufts of grass, while he takes a long swig from his water bottle. It’s at that point that Delphi shows up.

“Good morning,” she says, coming up from behind him and putting a hand on his back.

He manages not to jump so hard he falls off his broom, but he does dribble water all down his front and spills half the bottle on the floor as he grabs the broom handle for support.

“Delphi,” he gasps, wiping the water from his chin and twisting round towards her.

She grins and moves round in front of him, looking exceptionally pleased with herself. “I hoped I’d find you here. Have you been training?”

“Always. What have you been doing? You’re late.”

She checks her watch and shrugs. “Not that late. Anyway, I had a busy night.” She runs her hand up to his shoulder, and he twitches out of her grip. “You’re here. Does that mean you’ve decided you’re staying?”

Albus puts the cap on his water bottle and drops it onto the pitch. He takes a deep breath and looks at Delphi. “I’ve been thinking about it, and... I really do want to stay. This is home, you know? And I don’t want this league shut down. We can make money here. We’ve always made money here. It would feel strange to leave for good. And you did promise a few months, remember? You promised.”

He’s never been able to read her. He looks at her now, and she’s looking back at him with dark, obscure eyes, her gaze impenetrable. She’s thinking, that’s as much as he knows, and she’s scrutinising him, but he has no way of knowing if he’s said completely the right or completely the wrong thing. At times like this she’s unpredictable and more than a little bit unnerving.

After a few seconds of silence he opens his mouth to appeal to her, feeling like he needs to say something, but she gets there first.

“I agree,” she says. “That we should stay. I think there are opportunities here, and there are a lot of people that I need to meet and that you,” she puts her hand back on his shoulder and squeezes it in an uncomfortably tight grip, “need to meet.” She shoots him a dazzling smile. “I think we have a bright future here, and I’m glad we agree on that.”

Albus stares up into her dazzling eyes, searching for all her confidence and excitement for their future – his future – and when he finds it there he nods and relaxes. If she thinks it’s a good idea to stay then it must be, and it’s so rare for them to agree on something that he’ll take this as a sign. “Okay,” he says. “Good. That’s good.”

“It is,” she says brightly. “But Sev...” She glances over her shoulder then steps in close, leaning up on tiptoe so they’re at exactly matching heights as she lowers her voice. “Be careful. The person coming today is from your dad’s department. Remember what I said about not doing anything stupid. We need to keep you safe; that’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Albus looks down at his knees and nods. “I’ll be careful, I promise. I cut my hair last night, and I took the potion this morning. They won’t recognise me.” He lifts his head and smiles at her. “I barely recognise me.”

Delphi shifts her hand from his shoulder to his cheek, running her fingers gently down to his jaw. “I recognise you. Sev. My star racer.” She leans in and kisses him softly on the corner of his mouth. “That’s all you need to be today. It’s all you ever need to be for me. Just yourself.” She pulls back and looks at him, and he nods, as always too stunned by her proximity and attention to know quite what to say.

“Good boy,” she murmurs, then her hand is gone, fingers trailing the rest of the way down his neck and making him shiver before she pulls it away. “Well, today is going to be a disaster, so I should let you fly while you can. Have fun, but not too much fun. I’ll be in the clubhouse when you need me.” She rolls her eyes. “I can’t quite believe we’re going along with this.” Then she’s gone, leaving Albus to sway back and forth on his broom, brain a little fuzzy, the corner of his mouth tingling.

He reaches up to touch the edge of his lips, then he shakes himself. It still makes no sense to him why he reacts to her this way. They’ve been friends for years now – just friends, and colleagues – nothing more. He doesn’t even especially fancy her these days. Maybe he did once but that’s long passed. But she has this way about her that scrambles his mind and makes him completely stop thinking. She has a power over him that he’s never been able to describe and that she always laughs off. But it’s there – not a problem, of course. It doesn’t worry him. It’s just a strange facet of their relationship that he’s never been able to fathom.

He shakes his head to clear it and reaches down for his water bottle. Most of the contents have already been used to water the ground and the front of his t-shirt, but he downs what’s left and lobs the empty bottle in the direction of the bin. It bounces off, and he goes over to pick it up and throw it away properly before wheeling about and returning to the air, because she’s right. This day really is going to be a disaster, and the more practice he can get in before everything falls apart, the better.

 He’s been flying for an hour and a half when it happens. There’s an outburst of noise and kerfuffle over by the gate to the grounds, and when he swings round in mid-air to get a look at what’s going on, he sees a figure in sky blue robes being blocked from entering the grounds by a couple of his fellow racers.

No sooner has he noticed that something’s going on than Delphi sticks her head out of the clubhouse door to see what all the commotion is. He flies down to her.

“The Ministry are here,” he says.

”I can see that. Last chance to leave. Are you sure you want to do this?” She looks at him and there’s a glint in her eye that says she already knows full well what his answer is going to be.

Albus glances in the direction of the crowd by the gates. “Yes, I want to do this. I’ll be careful.”

He hops off the broom and leaves it by the wall, then he rests a hand briefly on Delphi’s arm as he sets off towards the gate.

There’s a swarm of people gathering there now. Racers come flying in from all corners of the grounds, and their brooms among the crowd seem to form an intimidating barbed fence standing out even within the wall of bodies. Albus can sense Delphi trailing behind him as he joins the crowd and starts weaving his way towards the front. He’s too short to see over everyone’s heads, but at least he can hear what’s going on.

“Two points. First point, I’m not here to arrest anyone or cause any trouble, I just want to talk. Second point, more significant point, I have a warrant of entry from the Ministry of Magic, so technically you have to let me in.”

Albus’s heart stops. He knows that voice. He would know that voice anywhere.

“Excuse me,” he says, nudging his way past the person in front of him. “Sorry. Let me- I need to-“ He barges through the crowd without thinking. There’s part of him that’s screaming at him to stop, to run away, to walk as fast as he can in the opposite direction and find somewhere to hide, because this is the sort of danger he’s been terrified of for years. But the rest of him doesn’t care. The rest of him stopped thinking the second he heard that voice, which he’s been missing for seven years.

He bursts through to the front of the crowd, not caring that he’s leaving a disgruntled, elbowed wake behind him, and when he gets there he stops dead and stares.

Scorpius Malfoy has visibly grown up in the last few years. He’s taller, and impossibly skinnier, but he looks surer in his body now. When he was younger he always seemed surprised by his height and the length of his limbs, but now there’s a strength and control, almost a grace, to his movements, like he’s finally grown into himself.

His face has lost the last of its childlike roundness. His jaw is strong and defined, and his cheekbones are sharp. The white blond Malfoy hair shines as bright as ever, almost silver in the summer sunshine, and it’s a touch longer than it used to be, long enough for the soft, stray curls to frame his face and graze the nape of his neck, just about reaching the collar of his sky blue Ministry robes – he works for the Ministry now, for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and even though Albus knows that was never among his ambitions he can’t help but feel the role still suits him. It lends him an authority that’s impressive and not at all surprising. Scorpius Malfoy as a Ministry official feels like the fulfilment of some sort of promise. It feels right.

Albus realises suddenly that he’s been staring with his mouth open. He snaps it shut and swallows hard. His heart is thudding in his chest and his mouth has gone dry. It’s been so long and now Scorpius is here, looking like this: like heaven, like home, and Albus doesn’t know what to do about it.

Except he does know. He knows exactly what to do. What he needs to do is to run and get as far away from here – from Scorpius – as he can. But before he can move, Scorpius turns and looks at him, and Albus finds himself unable to move.

Scorpius doesn’t say a word, but there’s something in his gaze – something sharp and attentive, a slight widening of those eyes that today are the heavy grey of rain clouds – that tells Albus that Scorpius knows exactly who he is.

Scorpius take a step towards him. “What are you-“

“I’ll deal with this,” Albus says, raising his voice so the entire crowd can hear him. “He can talk to me.”

Gareth emerges from the crowds next to him. “Sev... I think we should all talk this through together. You’ve been away for so long, you’re not up on what’s been happening.” He lowers his voice. “There’s safety in numbers here.”

Albus takes a deep breath and nods. “I know, but...” He looks up at Gareth, one of the first people to accept him seven years ago, and he doesn’t know how to explain. It’s always been an unspoken rule that Gareth speaks for all of them, and he has no right to take that away, except...

He draws himself up with all the strength and authority he can muster, trying to stand the way Scorpius is standing, like he has a right to decide what’s going to happen here, and he raises his voice a little so the other racers can hear. “That may be true, but I’m-“ He cuts himself off, not knowing where he was going with that sentence. But I’m his best friend. But I’m his boss’s son. Neither of those things are really true anymore...

“Trust me,” he tries instead. “I know what I’m doing. I can make this go away, I promise.”

The other racers glance at each other, and a murmur sweeps through the crowd as everyone starts discussing what to do. Finally Gareth raises a hand and cuts off the hubbub.

“You’d damn well better do a good job of this, Sev. If you can sort this out, then-“

“I promise I can.”

He nods. “Then get on with it. We’re all counting on you.”

Albus swallows and looks around at the expectant faces of the crowd, wondering if he’s done the right thing here. Then he glances over his shoulder and sees Scorpius standing there, watching him with a perplexed, slightly stunned look on his face, and any apprehension he has melts away in an instant. This is all going to be entirely okay.

“We should get out of here,” he says, turning his back on the crowd and going over to Scorpius. “There’s a nice cafe round the corner. We can go there and talk.”

Scorpius gestures past him, in the direction of the grounds. “But I’m supposed to- I can’t just leave without doing anything.”

“And we can’t talk in here with this lot,” Albus says. “They won’t leave you alone. It’ll be much easier elsewhere...” He pauses, then plays what he hopes is his trump card. “Your iced tea is on me.”

If Scorpius had looked ready to dig his heels in before, now his expression seems to thaw, and a small, glowing smile crosses his face. He sighs and waves a hand. “Fine. Fine! But it had better be a really good iced tea.”

“It will be,” Albus promises, returning the smile. “Come on.” He puts a hand on Scorpius’s arm and is about to guide him out of the gate when he feels a tug on the hood of his jacket that snaps his head back just enough to get his attention. He wheels round to push the person away, but sees Delphi there at the front of the crowd, smiling a dangerously sweet smile, her eyes like daggers of ice.

He deflates. “Give me a second,” he tells Scorpius, then he turns to Delphi and steps in close to her so no one else can hear. “What are you-“

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?” She hisses, tone so high pitched she sounds almost hysterical.

“Fixing this,” he murmurs back, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Delphi-“

“This doesn’t look like being safe,” she says, slapping his hand away. “It doesn’t look like being sensible. This looks like a disaster.”

“It’s fine!” Albus says soothingly. “He’s- it’s fine. I promise I’ll be careful. If it makes you happy I’ll be back in time for dinner. I’ll tell you what happens.”

Delphi glares at him, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen so much animosity in her eyes. Maybe directed at other people, but never at him. “I really really hope you know what you’re doing,” she says, voice low now, and a little bit dangerous. “Albus Severus-“

“I do,” he snaps, cutting her off. “I’m an adult. I can handle myself. I’ll see you later.” He plants a kiss on her cheek despite his burst of irritation (why does she need to be so controlling?) then turns away and waves for Scorpius to go ahead of him out of the gate. “Come on. Let’s go.”

They walk in silence for about a hundred metres down the street before Scorpius stops dead. Albus stops too.

“Are you-“

“It’s you,” Scorpius says, and Albus can hear that his voice is trembling. The smile on his face looks shaky too, like he can’t decide whether he wants to grin or burst into tears.

Albus swallows and nods. “Yeah,” he breathes. “It’s me.”

Scorpius opens his mouth, closes it again, then draws in a very deep breath. “What happened to your eyes?” He asks. “They’re... they’re brown.”

“Oh,” Albus says, twisting round to look at himself in the window behind him. “I-I suppose they are. It’s a potion.”

“A potion,” Scorpius says dubiously. “Why? The green is so...”

“It’s supposed to stop people knowing who I am,” Albus says.

Scorpius hesitates for a moment, then grins. “Well it’s not done a very good job, has it? You can’t wear that-“ he tugs gently on one of the white strings of Albus’s favourite green hoodie “-and not expect people to recognise you.”

Albus folds his arms and lifts his chin. “It’s worked for seven years, hasn’t it?”

Scorpius considers for a moment, then shrugs. “Touché. You mentioned iced tea?”

Albus smiles. “I did.”

They start walking again, and as they do they keep glancing at each other. Twice Albus catches Scorpius looking at him, and their eyes meet. For some reason Albus’s cheeks feel very hot, and the day may be warm but it’s not that warm.

“Was she your girlfriend?” Scorpius asks after a few paces. “You know, the one with the-“ he makes a wriggling motion with his fingers over his head.

“Who? Delphi?” Albus looks across at him and pulls a face. “No, definitely not. She’s more like my...” He trails off, not sure he knows what word he’s looking for. Delphi’s relationship to him is undefinable. She’s a friend, a confidant, a sister, a manager, and a teacher all rolled into one. Who she is to him is too much to explain in a word. She’s been everything to him. “She’s Delphi,” he says with a shrug. “But I don’t... she’s not my type.”

Scorpius frowns and looks down at the ground. “But you-“

“It’s just something we do,” Albus says, not sure why he feels such a desperate urge to explain that fact. “It doesn’t really mean anything. It’s... it’s weird I suppose. I’m sorry.” He doesn’t know why he apologises either; it just feels like the right thing to do. Scorpius nods and bows his head as they keep walking in silence.

Albus notices that now they’re not in front of the crowd anymore Scorpius’s posture has crumpled. He’s lost all the authority from his stance, and now his shoulders are hunched, his head down. He looks small, and a little bit lost, especially inside those sky blue robes that suddenly seem far too big for him, and are definitely far stiffer than any of the clothes Albus thinks of as being the sort of thing Scorpius feels comfortable in.

“So you work for the Ministry now,” Albus says softly. “For- for, you know...”

“A very very, very junior official,” Scorpius says, with this little twisted smile that looks like it hurts, although Albus can’t fathom why. “But yes, an employee of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. And you’re an illegal broom racer.”

“It’s a job,” Albus says, and Scorpius’s difficult, painful smile melts into a real one.

“That’s one word for it.”

They reach the cafe, and Albus holds the door open for Scorpius to go in ahead of him. While Scorpius weaves between the chairs and tables, making a beeline for the squashy sofa in the corner, Albus pauses and watches him.

This feels like a dream. Scorpius Malfoy, his best friend, who he hasn’t seen in years, is right in front of him, about to have coffee with him, and he can’t believe it. This is a fantasy. This is one of his midnight imaginings coming true. It can’t be real. But then Scorpius flumps down on the sofa, arms flopping to either side, head dropping against the back cushion, relaxing into it, and he turns his head and smiles at Albus, a warm, bright smile, and Albus’s insides flutter. This is so real. Why did he run away from this? This is wonderful.

Albus orders the drinks and joins Scorpius at the table, sinking into the equally squashy armchair opposite him, and they begin to talk.

They talk about nothing in particular. They talk about iced tea, and how nice the loaves of bread they’re selling behind the counter look, and then they talk about Albus’s favourite bakery in Paris, and Scorpius asks about Europe so Albus sketches round the details of that. Not once do they talk about broom racing or the Ministry or the seven year chasm in their friendship. In fact it feels to Albus as if he’s never been away; Scorpius is as easy to talk to as he’s ever been.

There’s a sort of bright, humorous breeziness to everything Scorpius says. He’s full of positivity and light, the way he always has been. It makes it easy for Albus to steer clear of talking about any of his hardships, or any of the darkness in his life. It’s not that he normally talks about those things, he avoids it at all costs, but usually the not talking aches, like there’s so much inside him that he wants to get out but can’t that he feels like he might burst. But with Scorpius it’s as if the bad things simply don’t exist. Scorpius is like a ray of sunshine through a window on a summer’s day, chasing the shadows away and making everything feel warm and bright.

“Did I tell you my dad bought more peacocks?” Scorpius asks after two hours of chatter, stirring the ice cubes left at the bottom of his tea with a straw to make them melt faster so he can drink them.

Albus grins and downs his third shot of espresso. He’s buzzing with giddy happiness, and he can’t tell anymore if it’s the coffee or just Scorpius’s presence.

Scorpius nods. “He did. Without telling me. I came home from work one day and this enormous, iridescent bird was sitting right outside the front door, refusing to let me in.” He leans back in his seat and shakes his head. “They really do have a vendetta against me. But at least the new ones are colourful, not those awful, creepy white things grandfather had.”

“You know,” Albus says, setting his coffee cup down. “There were nights where I’d lie awake wondering how you’d have changed over the years, but you really haven’t.”

“Whereas you’ve changed everything,” Scorpius says, gesturing to him. “Your hair, your eyes, your name...”

Albus doesn’t quite know what to say to that, so he wipes his finger round the inside of his coffee cup to pick up the last dregs of his espresso, while Scorpius noisily sucks up the last bits of melted ice cube through his straw.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” Albus asks after a moment of silence. “There’s a really nice park round the corner. I don’t want to- I mean we haven’t even talked about the legal stuff yet. We should do that at some point.”

“We should,” Scorpius agrees. They get up, clear their table, and start walking.

It’s a warm day and the sun is high in the sky above them as they head off along the river beneath leafy trees. Albus rolls the sleeves of his hoodie up to his elbows but it’s not warm enough to need to take it off. Twice their hands brush together as they stroll side by side, and they both murmur apologies and shift apart. In the end it’s Albus who breaks the silence.

“So how did you end up working for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement? I thought you always wanted to be an Unspeakable.”

Scorpius turns his head away and gazes down at the river burbling gently along beside the path. He seems to hesitate for a moment, then he glances up at Albus and a shaft of sunlight through the trees illuminates his face, making it glow peachy bright, his eyes like slivers of pure silver. “Your dad owed me a favour,” he says.

Albus frowns. “My- What for?”

Scorpius’s smile does that painful, twisted thing again. “You don’t read the papers, do you?”

“I try to avoid it,” Albus says. “For, you know, obvious reasons.”

Scorpius nods. “I recommend keeping it that way.”

Albus scrutinises him carefully, but there’s nothing there to read. He’s as impenetrable right now as Delphi at her best. That must be something else he’s picked up from Draco over the years.

“So now you’re a Ministry official,” he says, knowing that pushing the subject will get him nowhere.

“I am,” Scorpius says. “And you’re an athlete.”

Albus laughs. “I suppose I am, but-“

“You’re Sev,” Scorpius continues. “The most fearless and fearsome illegal broom racer around.”

“I-“

“You’re successful,” Scorpius says, ticking it off on his fingers. “You’re driven. You’re almost unbeatable. From what I’ve heard you’re not finding it difficult to make a living. I’ve read your case file.”

“I- I have a case file?” Albus asks, stopping dead and looking at him. “What does it say?”

Scorpius shrugs. “Pretty much just that. There are photos too, but-“ He holds a hand up when Albus opens his mouth to interrupt. “Don’t panic. No one would know it’s you.”

Albus snaps his mouth shut and considers that for a moment. “Did you?” He asks. “Know it was me? Before you came?”

Scorpius shakes his head. “I thought Sev looked familiar, but I didn’t realise how I recognised him. And then I saw you, and- You’re you. You’re so very you. You can change the colour of your eyes and cut your hair, but you can’t change who you are.”

“Can I see you again?” Albus asks sharply, without thinking first. He turns and looks right at Scorpius as the question spills out. “It’s been seven years. It’s been too long. I didn’t mean to stay away for such a long time. I just...” He trails off, shaking his head, not sure what his excuse is.

“You’ll see me again,” Scorpius says, looking straight ahead down the shadow dappled path. “You’re part of the league I have to shut down. I’m not going to go away.”

Albus swallows. “I mean can I see you again away from the league, away from your work? I didn’t realise how much I missed talking to you.”

“I missed you too,” Scorpius whispers, almost too quietly for Albus to hear. He turns and looks at Albus, and there’s something in his eyes that makes Albus want to reach out and hug him, to start trying to bridge the gap that seven years apart, that Albus’s running away, has torn between them. “I want to think about it,” he murmurs. “I need to think about it.”

“I-“ Albus digs his hands into his pockets and tries not to let it look like his heart has just been shattered. “Okay. I-I understand.”

“And I need you to know,” Scorpius continues, tone strengthening now he’s started speaking, making it sound as though he’s trying to get all the difficult things out of the way in one go. “I need you to know that I have to shut down the league. Whether you’re part of it or not. I really need to do this, Albus. You can’t stop me, I’m sorry. It’s my job and I... I really need to do it well.”

For some reason that doesn’t hurt nearly as much as Scorpius needing time to think about seeing him again, so Albus just nods. “Okay.”

“It’s getting late,” Scorpius says, interrupting the slightly awkward beat of silence that follows. He gets his watch out and his eyes widen. “Shit, it’s getting really late, I didn’t realise. I need to get back to the office, and then home. My dad will be worrying about already. I need to-“

“Do you still live at the Manor?” Albus asks.

Scorpius nods and tucks his watch away. “Yes, I do. I’m sorry, Albus, I have to go now. And don’t you need to go and meet-“

“Delphi,” Albus groans. “I do. I forgot.”

“So we should...” Scorpius gestures over his shoulder down the path, and Albus nods in agreement, but neither of them move. They just stand there beneath the trees, in a warm shaft of evening sunlight, and look at each other.

“Do you have a quill?” Albus asks finally.

Scorpius frowns. “A quill? Yes, of course I-“

“And parchment?”

Scorpius nods. “Yes, but-“

“Can I borrow them?” Albus asks, holding a hand out.

Scorpius gives him a long, perplexed look, then pulls his parchment and quill out of a pocket. “It’s self-inking, so-“

Albus takes them and scribbles his address on the top corner of the parchment. “This is where I live,” he says, handing it back to Scorpius. “So you can find me. Visit me, call me, Owl me, whatever, whenever. If you want.”

Scorpius hovers his hand over the parchment for a moment looking stunned. “Albus...” He says softly. “Albus this is a really bad idea.”

Albus grins. “I’m full of bad ideas. I’m me. Go on, take it.”

Scorpius takes hold of the parchment and stares down at it. “I mean it, Albus. You shouldn’t give me this. There’s... there’s a 100,000 Galleon reward for finding you, and you’ve just... If the wrong people find this... You don’t want to be found, do you?”

“I do,” Albus says, then realises what he’s said and shakes his head. “I mean, I don’t. No. Of course not. I- You’re a Malfoy though. You don’t need the money. You won’t- Will you?”

Scorpius looks up from the paper and there’s a terrifying pause before he speaks. “No,” he says. “I won’t, but Albus... what if someone sees it?”

Albus casts around for a solution to his stupidity. “Memorise it,” he says. “Then eat it. Burn it? Burning it is more sensible, do that. I mean you can eat it if you want, but it probably won’t taste very good. What does parchment even taste of?”

“You’re an idiot,” Scorpius tells him. He looks down at the parchment and falls silent. For several seconds he reads and mouths along with the words. There’s something wonderful about seeing Scorpius painstakingly learning every letter of his address. With every syllable and sound his lips form, every breath of the familiar street name that Albus hears him speak, it feels more and more like Albus has company. It feels like he’s being found, in the best possible way.

Finally Scorpius draws his wand and looks up at Albus. He recites the address once through, perfectly, and when Albus nods, Scorpius waves his wand and the parchment goes up in flames. Scorpius drops it onto the concrete path and they watch it curl up and turn into a little pile of ash, until the flames finally extinguish, and the incriminating words are gone.

“Thank you,” Scorpius says, when there’s nothing left except smoke and memory.

“What for?” Albus asks.

“For making sure you can’t run away again.”

“Not from you at least,” Albus says softly. “Never from you. It wasn’t about you in the first place.” He reaches out a hand towards Scorpius, then thinks better of it and clenches his fist, letting it fall to his side. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Scorpius looks him in the eyes and nods. “See you tomorrow.”

[babywarg]

ironstrange fic: Star-Man

this fic is almost totally SFW, but in case it’s too much for tumblr's delicate sensibilities and i give it the vapors, i’ll be uploading it into my AO3 account soon.

also, taking the opportunity to announce that i have a twitter here: https://twitter.com/babywarg i'm sure this theme has been used in fic before, in a much better way...but i woke up this morning wanting to give mah boiz angst and would not be denied. title may or may not have been inspired by david bowie's song of the same name. that, plus the notion that people who go round in space age really, really slowly compared to us mere mortals. have you guys seen this uber-cute and uber-touching fan art by 黒雨? you really should. it may help set the tone for this fic. or not. but look at it anyway because it's uber-touching and uber-cute: https://twitter.com/blackrain_1019/status/1043466939480174592 many thanks once again to my wonderful beta @eclair <3 on to the dramu! ***

 Tony threw his arms out wide. "You wanted to see me, doc?"

The playful look on his face made it look like he was angling for a hug. But it wasn't a good time for hugs. Not right now.

"Tony," Stephen carefully began, "I'm going away for a while..."

Tony's arms fell to his side. A look of worry crossed his face.

"To where?" he asked. "How long?"

The questions sounded so innocent, they might as well have belonged to a 7-year-old boy who had no idea he was going to be abandoned by his parents. For good.

He almost seemed too young, too simple to understand what was going on - but those were words that had never before been used to describe Tony Stark.

"A long time," Stephen answered. "Something's come up. Can't we just leave it at that?"

Tony began to frown. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"I don't know, can we? Or maybe you know me better than that, Steve."

Steve. The name was a dagger in Stephen's chest. He should never have let Tony know about it. No one had called him that in years, and whenever Tony did it, he only ever did it with complete awareness of how much it hurt.

"I do know you better than that. You deserve an explanation."

"Damn right I do. And you better give me a straight one. No tricks."

Stephen avoided the dare, looked around. "Maybe we should sit."

"Maybe right here is fine." The tone was cold. But still a good deal warmer than unforgiving.

Stephen sighed, and obliged. "Tony...there's a presence approaching the Earth. It's strong. Very strong. I haven't found a way to repel it. The only thing I've found is that..."

"What?" Tony interrupted. "That it's useless for you to look up how to defeat it on your own?" His voice became softer, almost pleading. "Dude, you're an Avenger now, remember? You're part of a team. That means you get people to pass some of the hard labor on to."

Stephen had to smile. Tony prided himself on being the fix-it guy. He liked being hands-on. Thrived on it.

It was Tony's familiar way of saying "let me help you." But Stephen couldn't afford to listen.

"As the Earth's Sorcerer Supreme," Stephen softly replied, "I'm afraid all of the hard labor is on me."

He proceeded to explain that the presence was a uni-dimensional entity, drawn to planets with vast reserves of psychic power - in short, planets with their own Sorcerers Supreme to defend them.

It fed off psychic energy, and when it was done with one planet, it became more powerful, so that the next planet on its path only had less of a chance to survive. Somehow it was able to detect which planets had a Sorcerer Supreme less able to withstand its assault. It had already left several planets completely destroyed on its aimless journey, each planet's Sorcerers Supreme powerless against it.

There was only one way to avoid it...

And that was to pretend that the Earth had NO Sorcerer Supreme.

"Simply put, the creature needs to think the Earth isn't worth bothering with." There was no time to delve into the intricacies of psychic hierarchies, the fact that there were records in magical tomes of this having been done successfully by other Sorcerers Supreme before, laws on unstoppable objects vs immovable forces not applying to preternatural opponents...and of course the futility of moving the Earth out of the creature's path, so he chose to leave those little details out. "While I'm gone, I'll make sure that the Earth will be enveloped in a deceptive shield - sort of a large flashing sign that says 'Nope, no Sorcerers here, not an astrally advanced enough species' so that the entity, whenever it gets here, will move on."

"You didn't answer me," Tony acidly interrupted, and Stephen froze. "Where are you going? How long will you be gone?

"Other worlds. Maybe other dimensions. Being away gives me less of a chance of being ferreted out. And 20 years." He shrugged. "Give or take."

He didn't quite expect Tony's tantrum afterwards. Or maybe he did. He just never thought it would affect him as much.

"20 years?" Tony yelled, close to his face. "20 fucking years, Stephen?!"

At least it wasn't "Steve." That way, Stephen could take the heat.

Tony paced back and forth, fuming.

"What did you expect to hear from me? Good luck, have fun, bring me back a souvenir? Take me with you? I can't believe it, you're just telling me this! You didn't even think of asking me before making such a huge decision, did you? About asking the other Avengers?"

"I have no time to brainstorm with you, or with the rest of the team," Stephen answered calmly. "The entity is coming tonight. I need to get this done now."

"Get 'this' done? What --"

Stephen stepped up to Tony.

Planted his palm gently on Tony's forehead.

Whispered into Tony's ear, "Hush."

There was a brief flash of light where their skin made contact.

And it was over.

Memory spells aren't reliable, the Ancient One had said to him. You can pick and choose the memories you want gone, but there's no assurance they'll STAY gone. You'll have to live with the consequences, Stephen, no matter what.

Tony staggered back. Seemed disoriented for a minute.

Then, his gaze refocused, and he spread his arms wide.

"You wanted to see me, doc?"

There was no playfulness in his voice, this time. Only curiosity.

He'd come because he was summoned. By the Earth's Sorcerer Supreme.

Not by Stephen. Or Steve. Not by anyone he knew more intimately.

Stephen had to fight for the pain to not to reach his face.

One year of fights, of trysts, of kisses, stolen or otherwise, of promises and curses and unspoken vows.

Of love.

Gone.

"Tony," Stephen carefully began again. His voice might have broken slightly, but he hadn't meant it to. "I'm going away for a while."

 ***

 Time moves differently across universes and worlds, and there's much a Sorcerer Supreme could do in 20 Earth years. There were new species to meet, new magic to learn, many new things to discover.

In the meantime, Stephen drew only enough power from the energies around him (not the dark dimension: never that) so that he never aged, never slowed down.

At any rate, it was always a temporary arrangement.

It was the entity's fault for moving too goddamn slowly. 20 years was the minimum wait time for it to pass. If the psychic energy-eating behemoth had been moving faster, it wouldn't be as hard for anyone.

As it stood, Stephen had to wait it out. He had no contact with anyone from Earth, no one who might betray his location to the creature, or compromise his resolve to stay away. This meant Wong, Christine...or Tony Stark.

And then if, after 20 years, he returned to find the Earth in pieces, he planned on using the Time Stone to look back at where things went wrong, then to go back in time, and use the knowledge he'd acquired in all his years away to fix it.

But! If nothing bad had happened to the earth while he was gone...then, well, Doctor Strange's gamble had paid off.

No one knew that he and Tony had a sort of relationship, so no one else's memory needed to be wiped. All he had to take care of was Tony - headstrong, shrewd Tony, who would defy logic and move heaven and earth to find Stephen and be with him again...potentially leaving the Earth unprotected as he went on his futile search.

- that is, if he even remembered what he needed to find Stephen for.

Stephen’s reasoning was this: If Tony's memories of their year together were dealt with, there would be no complications. The Earth would never lose its best defender. And upon his return, they would just be friends again, colleagues again, Avengers again.

Stephen's 20-year escape plan would be so very simple.

And yet...

There were times when he missed Tony so fiercely, that he contemplated visiting other dimensions, other realities, where Tony existed and he didn't. Where there was no Stephen for Tony to fall in love with. Or where they both existed, but were not in love, and would never be. Perhaps they would never even meet.

At the same time, he knew that visiting other dimensions was a risky thing, and there might be no way back for him...especially if he found a particular dimension where he wanted to stay.

There were times when small things he encountered on his journeys reminded him of Tony, and he had to steel himself to prevent his own memories from leaking out and buoying him back to Earth.

There were times when he wished...that when he finally did come home, Tony would remember.

And greet him with open arms. Obnoxiously strong embraces. Warm, fuzzy kisses. The brightest of laughs.

And a ton of stories and shared memories, "remember when"s that would bring a smile to his lips.

And forgiveness.

He often contemplated using the memory spell on himself, but he decided against it for a number of reasons.

One of them was that he deserved to suffer.

There should have been time for a proper goodbye. Then, maybe, being without Tony wouldn't hurt this much.

But it did, and it should.

The only way Tony would end up remembering their time together would be if Stephen's memory spell would fail. And he had worked hard at making sure it would not fail. He had erased every single private moment he and Tony had shared. He had only left the missions, the camaraderie, the mutual respect they had for each other as men of science, as soldiers.

No room for sentiment. No drawbacks.

No tricks.

 ***

 Approximately 20 years later, a Stephen Strange who looked and sounded exactly as he did when he left, braced himself, and opened a portal back to Earth.

And...

He came back to a technological marvel.

Stark Industries had become the world's leading source of scientific innovations - a world that left hardly any room in it for magic. Everything was efficient, streamlined, for a faster and less patient civilization. Shielded from the biggest psychic threat it had ever experienced, and protected by the Avengers and their affiliates from most physical dangers, the Earth experienced a new technological renaissance.

And in the front and center of it all was Tony.

He looked great, for the record. Salt-and-pepper hair and beard, wrinkles where there didn't used to be any, lean and strong-looking even with muscles less defined - but still, brown eyes that shone with intelligence, wonder, and an unquenchable inner light. Still with impeccable (if now old-fashioned) sense of style.

He greeted Stephen with a firm, hearty pat on the shoulders, like a compatriot would.

(This older Tony would never call him “Steve.” Would never push his buttons knowingly. Would never demand to be part of his life outside the battlefield.)

"Back like a star-man, hasn't aged a day," Tony quipped. "Welcome home, star-man."

Stephen only smiled.

He would have been happy to leave their first meeting at that. But back in his old and dutifully preserved Sanctum, he was surprised to find a pre-recorded message from Tony.

In it, Tony insisted on taking Stephen around, as soon as his schedule (Tony's, not Stephen's) permitted. So many things about the world had changed, Tony explained, and who better to keep the bewilderment at bay than one of the chief architects of this bright new future?

Stephen was about to refuse first thing in the morning - one of the mystic arts he'd mastered was, in fact, adapting to radically unfamiliar environments, so "bewilderment" was hardly ever an issue.

But before dawn of the next day, Tony had already parked a very flashy red hovercar in front of the large symbol on his Sanctum, and had woken him - and all the other residents of the Sanctum - up by knocking loudly on the glass and yelling like an attention-starved child.

The rest of the day was basically a joyride through high-tech New York and its environs, with hyper-verbal Tony gladly playing the role of tour guide. It was true, so much had changed - but not Tony.

Exploring a new reality with a deeply familiar Tony turned out to be pleasant.

It was - did he even dare think it? - very much like a date.

Tony all but physically bent over backwards trying to impress him, introducing new and upcoming inventions like a toddler showing off his toys, and how clever he was.

Stephen remembered when Tony used to do that almost every day. He couldn't help it: he still found it charming.

More than once, he caught Tony staring at his face. Whenever he did, Tony would draw attention off it by blurting out an idea or an interesting anecdote from the last 20 years.

And, more than once, Stephen thought he felt Tony standing a little too near, leaning a little too close to him.

He told himself: his own guilt must have been playing tricks on him. Tony didn't remember. He couldn't.

 ***

 The day ended late, with Stephen feeling exhausted. No doubt Tony did as well, because the two men stood on the Stark Tower (v.3.6) deck side by side, without saying a word.

It was like they both knew the hour of parting had come, but neither wanted to admit it.

Presently, Stephen took the reins. "I have to go, Tony."

From where he stood, he could feel Tony stiffen up in alarm.

"To where? How long?"

They were strange questions to ask, and Tony knew it. He dropped his flustered gaze.

"You mean the Sanctum. Of course. Well, it is kind of late, doc. Must be past your bedtime."

Stephen smiled.

"Past yours, too, old man," he couldn't resist shooting back.

Tony stayed silent, not looking at him. Stephen guessed this meant there was no offer of a hovercar ride back to the Sanctum. No matter.

He started to walk away, to a clearer space where he could set up a portal home - but Tony's hand shot out and caught the hem of his cloak.

He stopped. Looked back at Tony. Who still wasn't looking at him. Still wasn't letting go.

"Old man. Yeah, that's me." Tony's voice was so hushed, it was difficult to hear him. "Too old to suit up. Should've ditched all of my suits, or given them away to young blood, but I haven't. Sometimes I take one of them out and go off looking for something. Sometimes I end up finding trouble, but most of the time, I don't find anything at all."

He let go of the cloak, but Stephen didn't go anywhere. He stood, facing Tony, who was starting to seem agitated.

"And I don't know why I'm telling you this, except it feels like I've finally found what I've been looking for. All this time. All this time. And I can finally take off the suit now. Because that's it. I'm done. And..."

His voice broke.

His shoulders started to shake.

He hid his face with one hand, and folded an arm across his chest - folded into himself, in a desperate attempt to hide.

But Stephen didn't let him. Not after all this time.

He drew his arms around Tony. Held him close. As close as he should have held him last time. And all those other times they'd missed.

Tony buried his face in Stephen's shoulder. He let Tony break against him. Wave upon wave of grief and longing and regret crashed down upon them both. It felt to Stephen like standing in front of a storm, and he felt like breaking, too.

A quick, furtive look into Tony's mind said he didn't remember. Not a single detail of their lost year together.

But he didn't have to. The memories weren't stored in his mind.

They were in his aging body, his cells, the very fabric of his being.

As they were in Stephen's.

All this time.

When he had calmed down a bit, Tony stood back, still holding on to Stephen’s arms, and let out a small, bitter chuckle.

"I don't know why I'm asking you this. Think of it as a pathetic old geezer's wish." He looked up at Stephen's face. "But...stay. This time. Please. No tricks."

It was the look in his eyes that finally got to Stephen, reached in and tore him inside out.

He closed the distance between them again and planted a long, lingering kiss in Tony's hair before Tony could see the first tear fall.

"No tricks," he gently promised.

[shzzm-blog]

Below the cut is a lil’ introduction & timeline about the portrayal of my guy William Batson / Shazam here, feel free to drop a heart on this if you’re cool with me hitting you up in the tumblr message system to plot and maybe plan a thread! (tw: spoilers, death, violence)

NOTES

First and foremost, because most of my info is from the movie or the DC wikia pages, he’s kind of just a grab-bag of canon and what I think I know. If at any point my portrayal is inaccurate to a point where you feel like you need to point it out, go for it. It also means I’m going to be adding some stuff or changing it depending on if it’s necessary until I get a bio and stat page going.

That being said, I’m mainly following the movie & the DC prime comic universe for his young childhood, but I’m including some events and connections from the new comics to fill in other parts.

Billy hasn’t given his siblings powers (yet). I figured it’d leave a little bit of room for development later on so he’s the one and only Shazam right now due to the fact The Wizard died giving him his powers.

Speaking of The Wizard, I love the version of it when he is about to tell Billy he’s like the rest of the potential candidates and Billy tells him that nobody is absolutely pure of heart. The Wizard just knows he can’t do this much longer and tells Billy that he doesn’t know if it’s the right decision but he’s the only shot he has. That sticks with him hard.

Right now, Billy’s going to Hudson University in New Carthage, New York and is getting a 4-year animal science degree because of his fascination of Tawny the tiger back in his hometown. He doesn’t have too much intention on using it yet, but who knows? It might be a good cover.

Around the time the Justice League became public and the Green Lantern Corp joined, that’s when he did the same. At the time (and current time) he was against the registration act, but he also wanted to continue to be a hero. He figured joining them would help him do just that. When Diana turned herself in, he wasn’t really sure what happened, but it got him to reevaluate his decision of being in the JL. 

He’s been at it for a good 4/5 years now, so he’s not an unknown hero but he’s one that gets confused with others time to time and isn’t perfect at the whole hero thing. However, he is good at pleasing the public and some fans.

If you can’t find him at his dorm or out as Shazam, he’s probably back home either at the zoo or at his parent’s house. Just follow him on Instagram if you’re not sure.

Also the Shazam official youtube channel totally exists, but he and Freddy haven’t touched it since he was like 16 so he is not a fan of it.

TIMELINE 

April, 2000: Billy was born in Fawcett City, PA.

June, 2003: Billy’s biological father was killed by Black Adam while he was on an excavation trip in Egypt.

March, 2004: Billy was lost at the zoo. When nobody could find his mother, he was put into the foster system.

August, 2007: Billy ran away for the first time in search of his mother. After while he was on his mission, he lived on his own wherever he could squat or sleep for the night and continued his search.

December 18, 2014: Billy was taken off the streets and placed in the Vasquez family home.

December 19, 2014: Billy started his first day of school and after defending one of his new siblings, he runs until he is on a subway car. There, he is taken to the Rock of Eternity and The Wizard Mamaragan (Shazam) gives him his power before passing away into nothing. That night, he saved some people and did everything you’d expect from a kid who was in a grown superman’s body.

December 20, 2014: Billy skipped school and went out to do some Shazam stuff before he was found by Black Adam (summoned by, you guessed it, Doctor Sivana) and attacked mercilessly. Billy ran away and sought out shelter in the place he was most familiar with: the zoo. When he arrived home he was already scarred enough. But, then he was scolded by his newfound parents and given the location of his mother by his newfound siblings. Billy didn’t even hesitate to run off and try to find her. When he did, he found closure realizing she wasn’t the woman who he remembered as a boy. He also saw a news story about Black Adam on the tv so he left his mother’s to try and stop it. Billy thought that maybe he had been a child like himself, so he tried to appeal to that. After it didn’t work, he fought him again and a lot more happened in the fight like the backstory reveal and stuff. It ended when Billy convinced him to turn human to fight him and he turned into ash.

December 21, 2014: First media coverage of Billy’s superhero persona, known then as Captain Thunder.

January, 2014: Now known as Champion.

February 2, 2014: Now known as Captain Marvel.

February 6, 2014: Now known as Shazam.

December, 2017: Billy gets his early acceptance letter from Hudson University.

June, 2018: Billy moves to New Carthage.

January, 2019: Shazam joins the Justice League.

[lilacmoon83]

Finding You Always

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Sorry, I meant to have this up on Tumblr last night, but this site was not cooperating.

Chapter 148: The Final Battle, Pt 1

Emma Swan's eyes snapped open and she looked around at the stark white walls of her room in the asylum.

Since the day Ms. Rocha had taken her book and destroyed it, Emma had been here. She had been so disturbed when the book was destroyed that the state had institutionalized her and this became her life. Mundane days spent in a tiny, dark room with pills forced down her throat and Ms. Rocha berating her about what a delusional little freak she was.

The door opened, revealing her bony silhouette and Emma shuddered at her cruel smile. She really didn't know how long it had been since that day she lost the book and all hope of finding her parents, but Emma knew she was grown and any hope of that was gone. Perhaps her parents, or the people she thought her parents were in the book, really never existed, after all. Maybe what Ms. Rocha said was true. Her real parents were probably criminals on the run or drug addicts that dumped her like trash on the side of the road. She clutched her baby blanket, as the woman came into the room.

"It's time for your meds, Emma," Yzma hissed, as she glared down at the young woman.

"I don't want to take anymore pills...they don't help," Emma replied.

"You don't get a choice in the matter," Yzma snapped, as the orderlies came in. Emma screamed and fought, as the pills were forced down her, while the woman she knew as Ms. Rocha watched with smug glee on her wrinkled face.

~*~

Snow and David held hands, as they slowly moved through the streets of their town. Many places were boarded up and there were very few souls on the streets, like something akin to a ghost town. They could see a few people peering out at them from some of the buildings, but once they made eye contact, the people stopped looking, like they were afraid.

"What has she done to our town?" Snow wondered.

"I don't know, my darling...but we will fix this," he assured, as they continued on. They reached the corner and saw the diner in the distance, but noticed that the sign no longer said Granny's. Instead, it read Slade's.

"Okay...the Slades own Granny's. Now I know this whole place has been warped," he said.

"Villains are in control again," Snow said, as she pointed to the place where the Rabbit Hole should have been. Instead, the sign now read Ratigan's.

"Ratigan...didn't I arrest him a long time ago?" David asked, trying to recall it. She nodded.

"Yes...when Emma was fifteen. Remember, he was experimenting and trying to distribute mind-control drugs," she reminded.

"Yeah...I remember now. If he's out of prison…" he started to say, but they jumped then, as a bullet ricocheted at their feet. They looked ahead of them, only to find Sa'luk there, wearing a Sheriff's badge on his hip.

"Trespassers will be detained," he hissed.

"That badge doesn't belong to you," David hissed back, as he unsheathed his sword. Sa'luk chuckled.

"I've been looking forward to a rematch, Charming. After you did this to me," he said, pointing at his missing eye.

"I've been dying to repay the favor by carving up that pretty face," Sa'luk growled.

"So you have your memories," Snow stated, as she pulled an arrow from her quiver.

"Yes, the Black Fairy allowed me to retain them, as my hatred of your entire bloodline will serve her well," he said.

"David...I don't think there's magic here," Snow whispered, as she was unable to summon any power from the chalice.

"Figures...the Black Fairy probably took it all for herself. Guess we'll have to do this the old fashioned way," he said, as he poised his sword in strike position, as Sa'luk charged him. David charged at him in response and immediately went about relying on his agility. Unfortunately, despite his size, he was able to keep up with the Prince and their blades clashed furiously. Snow moved slowly about, trying to find an opening, but it was far too risky with Charming so close to the hulking man.

She gasped when the man hammered his large fist into her husband's back, right between his shoulder blades and he dropped to the ground. The man brought his arm up and his blade down, but David kicked his legs out from under him and he landed flat on his back. David was quick to his feet, but so was Sa'luk, as they resumed their duel. Onlookers from Ratigan's had come out to watch the spectacle and Snow threaded an arrow, as she saw a few shady characters start to move in.

"Don't even think about it," Snow warned, as she fired a warning arrow at their feet and threaded another.

"You gonna take us all on, beautiful?" one hissed and she recognized him as one of Sa'luk's few remaining cohorts from the forty thieves.

"Yeah...there's much more entertaining things we could do with you," Keith, the Sheriff of Nottingham commented.

"Yeah...bet this one's a real wildcat on her back," a very creepy, fidgety man drawled, as he slithered toward her. Snow glowered at him and extracted the dagger from her belt, before throwing it at him. The dagger hit him in the leg, hitting the femoral artery just right. The fidgety man screamed in agony, as he collapsed to the ground.

"You...you little bitch! You've crippled me!" he slurred, as Ratigan himself burst out into the street and looked at the spectacle. But Snow wasn't intimidated by anything of them and threaded another arrow, as a couple of the men tried to stop the bleeding with towels.

"Anyone else?" she threatened.

"Not even your arrows are gonna stop me, girl," Ratigan seethed, as he advanced on her.

"Woman," she corrected, as she fired an arrow, but he surprised her by catching it and snapping it in two.

"You'll have to do better than that, Princess," he hissed. She gasped, as she heard David cry out and watched in horror, as Sa'luk wrapped his large hand around her husband's neck, before lifting him off his feet.

"Better worry about yourself," Keith hissed, as they closed in around her.

"The Black Fairy wants them alive," Sa'luk warned, as he choked the Prince.

"Which is a pity since I'd love to snap your pretty neck," the hulking man hissed back.

"Oh, she'll be alive when we're done," Ratigan hissed, as they surrounded her. Snow un-threaded her arrow and held it up, preparing to defend herself.

"Just a bit broken," Keith leered, but he was stopped short when several arrows fired rapidly from somewhere above them, expertly wounding, though not fatally, all but Ratigan and Keith.

"What the hell?!" Keith cried, as he and Ratigan looked around, only to find a girl on the rooftop of the bar.

"Eva!" Snow called in relief, as she reloaded her crossbow.

"You want to play too, little girl?" Keith leered.

"How about you play with someone a little more your size?" a male voice said, as he surprised Keith and put him in a headlock. He put his sword to the other man's throat and Snow smiled again.

"Leo," she said in relief, he shoved Keith away and leveled his blade at Ratigan.

"Get the hell away from my mother," he growled, as the bar owner wisely backed away.

"David!" Snow called, as they rushed to help him. Sa'luk laughed evilly, as David started to lose consciousness.

"You know, I doubt the Black Fairy will be too upset if I rid us of him," Sa'luk growled.

"NO!" Snow cried, but the man cried out in pain, as Fandral surprised him from behind and put him in a headlock, shocking the man.

"You are strong...I'll give you that. But you're no trouble for an Asgardian," Fandral boasted, as he overpowered him and forced him into submission, as Xander leveled his gun at the brute.

"Even you're not immune to bullets to the head, Sa'luk...just give me a reason," Xander growled.

"And if that doesn't get you...I'll make the other eye match," Regina added, as she held a sword aimed at his other eye.

"This is far from over, Charmings! This is not your town any longer. We have a new Mayor and a new Order! And you all will fall," Sa'luk warned, as he retreated.

"Oh David…" Snow cried, as he coughed and tried to get air, as she cradled his head. He breathed and reached up to caress her face.

"I'm okay…" he promised, as Xander and James helped him to his feet. Snow put her arms around him and then they opened their arms for the twins.

"We were so worried…" Eva cried.

"We're okay," Snow promised.

"But Hyde is still alive, so we assumed that Jekyll is too," Leo said.

"That's a story, but you can rest assured that Jekyll will never be bothering us again," David replied.

"He's right, but we're surprised that everyone has their memories. Aladdin couldn't send us back, because he said the curse had been cast again," Snow said.

"That's a story too," Xander said.

"Yes and I'm afraid not everyone has retained their memories," Rose added. Snow looked at the twins.

"It's Emma…" Eva said.

"Yeah, like we said it's a story, but maybe we should get off the streets," James suggested.

"He's right...let's get back to base," Aphrodite said.

"Base?" David asked curiously.

"Yep...welcome to the resistance, son," Xander said. Snow and David exchanged a glance and then followed their family and friends to the docks.

"The cannery? This is the base?" David asked.

"It's a bit rundown now, but it's all we've got," James replied.

"Yes...we'll explain everything inside and maybe you two can tell us how Hyde is still alive, but Jekyll's no longer a problem," Regina added, obviously curious about that story. They nodded and followed them inside.

~*~

"Madam Mayor...we have a problem," Sa'luk reported, as he burst into her office. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, as the sweaty brute she had entrusted to police the town invaded her office.

"And I suppose you're not talking about your smell?" she quipped.

"They're here," he stated.

"I know they're here...I've already heard all about your incompetence and how they defeated you again. Please remind me why I've decided to keep you around," Fiona said sharply.

"If that Asgardian hadn't interfered, I would have been able to come here and dropped the Prince's corpse at your feet," he replied sharply in return. She smirked.

"Yes...it must be bothersome to you to know that there is someone that has superior physical strength than you," she goaded, as she picked up her phone and dialed a number.

"Get over here," she snapped and in a puff of yellow smoke, Yzma appeared in her office.

"What's going on? I heard those rebels were making another spectacle in town. Too much for you, Sheriff?" Yzma goaded.

"Bite your tongue, you old hag," Sa'luk hissed.

"Enough!" Fiona snapped.

"They're here…" she stated. Yzma clenched her fists.

"How is that possible? You said if we cast the curse before Snow and Charming returned that it would ensure there would be no interference from them," Yzma reminded.

"I know what I said!" Fiona snapped.

"They obviously found their own loophole to find a way here. Portals and beans are only the obvious ways to travel the realms. Though less obvious, there are other ways. But I believe there is much more going on here," Fiona replied, as she gazed out the window.

"What could it be? Essentially, we have won. Emma Swan is nothing more than a shell of her former self with no memories of being raised by her loving parents," Yzma reminded.

"Yes...but the curse should have stolen more than just her memories. Yet everyone else has retained theirs and thus gave birth to their little resistance," Fiona said.

"But we have all the magic. Not even Rumple retained his," Yzma reminded.

"Which only holds true as long as the curse remains in tact. If it's broken, then everything returns to normal. No...he did something. He may have been stripped of his magic and they all are living in squalor. They seem powerless, but that's only the image he wants us to have," Fiona realized, as she opened her drawer and took out the vial that had once contained the blood her son had provided for them.

She examined it, noticing there was still a tiny drop in the bottom and waved her hand over it. She snarled, as it revealed the vial was protected by a concealment spell.

"Why would Rumple place a concealment spell on the Queen's blood?" Yzma questioned.

"Because this isn't the Queen's blood at all!" Fiona snapped, as she canceled his spell and the drop of blood glowed with pinkish magic.

"This is Snow and Charming's mixed blood…" she realized in horror.

"What does that mean?" Sa'luk questioned.

"It means that my son betrayed me and wove true love into my perfect curse!" she cried, as she threw the glass vial angrily against the wall, shattering it.

"We can still win this if we get rid of Emma Swan's belief permanently," Yzma reminded. Fiona took a deep breath.

"You're absolutely right. Her parents will come for her and we must see that she not only no longer believes, but that she makes her way out of Storybrooke...forever," the Black Fairy replied. Yzma smirked deviously.

"Yes...if she leaves town, she'll never regain her memories and the curse shall never be broken, no matter what those idiots do. And I have just the thing," the wrinkled hag hissed. Fiona smirked.

"In her current state of mind, she thinks she's been locked up all her life. Perhaps offering her freedom and a cushy life in Boston will do the trick," she agreed, as she turned to Sa'luk.

"Keep the Charmings away from the asylum at all costs. Kill them if you must," she ordered and he bowed deeply.

"Yes Madam Mayor," he said deviously, as he left. Fiona returned to gazing out the window.

"I have not come this far to lose everything now. You will not defeat me so easily, son," she hissed under her breath.

~*~

Snow and David followed their family and friend into the cannery, observing most of the townspeople and their families living in clusters around the cannery, sleeping on cots and sleeping bags. Fortunately, being that they really couldn't have a fire inside the building, everyone was kept warm with space heaters and warm clothing. It was almost like it had been when they were living in the woods when they were taking back the Kingdom, except they had still had the luxury of electricity and plumbing here. Still, it definitely was not ideal and their town had been completely overrun by anyone willing to work for the Black Fairy and uphold her regime.

"Mommy! Daddy!" Summer called, as she ran toward them from her place with Granny. They beamed at her, as David scooped her up and they showered her with kisses. Granny gladly brought the baby over and Snow felt tears fill her eyes, as she held their son again. There had been a moment there when she had taken the sleeping curse that she wondered if that was the last time she would see him as a baby. Thankfully, it had only been a few days since that awful day that Jekyll had enforced his ultimatum. He was gone forever and if they could defeat the Black Fairy, things could finally be set right again.

"You beat the bad man, didn't you?" Summer asked. David smiled.

"Of course they did. I missed you too," Henry said, as they enveloped him in their hug too.

"Oh sweetheart, we missed you too and we're going to get your Mom back," Snow promised. He nodded.

"We did, peanut...he's never going to try and hurt Mommy again," he promised.

"I think the burning question on everyone's mind is how?" Paul asked anxiously.

"Yeah...Hyde didn't fall over dead, so we assumed Jekyll was still a problem," Leo said bluntly and then glanced at the former warden.

"Not that we were wishing that on you," he clarified.

"No offense taken, young one. I'll admit, I am curious myself as to whether my other half is still a problem," Hyde drawled.

"He's not...and it's quite a story," David said. Snow smiled.

"It is…but one we would be glad to tell," she added.

"When I arrived to wake Snow, she was in the glass coffin again, in the same place she was more than thirty years ago. But she wasn't alone," he said.

"Jekyll was there I'm guessing," Leo said.

"Yes, but he wasn't the only one," David replied, as he looked to Rose Red.

"We had the displeasure of meeting your Uncle John. It seems he's taken up residence in our Enchanted Forest and when someone informed him that Snow was in the forest, he thought it was you," David said to Rose. She looked shocked.

"Oh that horrible man," Rose lamented.

"When I got there, Jekyll was convincing them that she was Snow and should allow him to take her in exchange for one of his baton weapons. Needless to say, I spoiled that little deal," David said.

~*~

"Take her...do whatever you want with her. I want that weapon," he said, as he prepared to take it from the doctor when they heard the sound of thundering hooves pounding toward them. Jekyll seethed, as a white horse emerged carrying Charming with it.

"You!" the King cried, as David looked at him strangely. He had never seen this man before and dismounted his horse.

"You are part of the reason Rose Red was able to defeat me!" the King shouted, as his men all drew their swords. Realization dawned in David's eyes and he rolled them.

"He thinks you're Fandral," Aladdin said, as he, Cassim, and Jasmine arrived too.

"I told you...this is Snow White, which means he's not Fandral. But he's just as much of a thorn in my side as Fandral was in yours," Jekyll hissed.

"Save it, you sick bastard, and get the hell away from my wife," David demanded. Jekyll growled and fired the weapon at David, but the Prince caught the attack with the Chalice, as they dueled in a deadlock. All bystanders were forced to dodge the power of the device, as it ricocheted off the chalice. Aladdin used his new found magic to deflect one headed straight toward him. It bounced back and struck Jekyll head on. The doctor cried out and trembled in pain, as the device snapped in two from the blast, rendering it useless. David smirked and put the Chalice down, as he made purposeful strides toward Snow. The King foolishly stood in his way and he drew his sword.

"I either go around you or through you...it's your choice, Your Majesty," David growled. Sir Hiss scrambled away like a coward and the King stepped aside fearfully as well. He looked so terrified of David that they all wondered if he'd might start sucking his thumb and crying for his mommy.

David looked at her through the glass and lifted the cover away, before tossing it aside. He was having Deja Vu, as he gazed down at her with reverence. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. A wave of rainbow light washed over all of them and the entire land, as their powerful love returned light to the darkness.

Snow took a starved breath of air and he beamed down at her, as she reached up and put her hand to his handsome face. He took her hand and helped her sit up with his hand on her back, as they stared at each other passionately.

"You found me…" she said. He smiled and lifted her into his arms off the coffin bed and put her on her feet, but kept her pressed flush against him.

"Did you ever doubt I would?" he asked.

"Never...I will never doubt our love," she purred, as she nuzzled her nose against his. He smiled and kissed her again. Snow mewled into his kiss, letting herself be lost in him again.

~*~

"I am so sorry you had to deal with my Uncle John," Rose apologized. They smiled.

"He was nothing we couldn't handle," Snow assured.

"And his tantrums were actually entertaining," David added.

"So what happened then? How did you get rid of Dr. Creepyl?" Leo quipped, making his parents chuckle.

"I suppose that probably is the best part of the story," Snow agreed, as she continued telling them.

~*~

"Not that my husband has to explain anything to you, because I know that everything he does is for me and our family," she said, as she looked up at him fondly.

"If you think you've won, then I encourage you to think again, my dear Snow. I encourage you save your beloved a lot of pain and come with me now," Jekyll growled.

"Oh bloody hell, you irritating wanker...give it up already! Have you forgotten that they have a genie on their side now?" Aladdin interjected.

"David...we have enough wishes to go around when Jasmine and my father take the lamp. Say the word...and this idiot is done," he said. Snow and David exchanged a glance, knowing the wish had to be worded carefully.

"Taking the easy way out? I'd expect more, even from you, Charming," Jekyll goaded. Snow rolled her eyes and cuddled close to David, as he smiled down at her. They were both having a lot of trouble keeping their attention on this situation and off each other.

"I wouldn't be so smug, Dr. Jerkyll. I happen to have it on very good authority that a certain God of Dreams is very upset with you. How have you been sleeping?" she questioned. He frowned and was silent. She smirked.

"I thought so...Morpheus is seeing to it that you're plagued by nightmares for meddling in the dream realm like you have," Snow said.

"Really?" David whispered to her. She nodded.

"Mmm...Morpheus is highly offended by the doctor and his entire existence," Snow explained. David smirked.

"That doesn't bode well for your future," the prince commented.

"Save your feeble attempts to alarm me. It won't work...I've bested you at every turn. This time shall be no different," the doctor said.

"Yes...you may not be my insolent niece, but you look just like her! And I refuse to be defeated by such again!" the King bellowed.

"Who are you again?" Snow asked and the childish man stomped his feet.

"I am King John...and this is my Kingdom now! You can't have it back!" he shouted.

"Rose Red's uncle," David whispered to her and realization dawned on her.

"Poor Rose," she commented, as the irate King stomped around making demands to his soldiers. But they seemed reluctant to make any move in the presence of a genie. At the moment, all she wanted was to be rid of the doctor for good and help their friends, before going home. Enough was enough. Aladdin was offering them an out and she decided it was worth the risk. After all, she basically had sanctioned permission from Morpheus to do whatever necessary to rid all the realms of Dr. Jekyll's existence.

"Okay...you know what, make the wish. Morpheus is counting on us to get rid of him since he can't and if anyone deserves easy right now...it's us," she said. He grinned and kissed her.

"Genie...my second wish is give Dr. Jekyll exactly what he deserves," David said. Aladdin smirked and his hand glowed, as he outstretched toward the doctor. But when nothing happened, they were all puzzled. The doctor smirked smugly and chuckled.

"Well, that was certainly a waste of a wish," he goaded. Snow's brow furrowed.

"I don't understand…" she uttered, as she looked at Aladdin. But the newly minted Genie also looked at a loss.

"I think the answer is simple enough. I'm still here, because I deserve to finally get what I want," he growled, as he grabbed her arm.

"Like hell…" David growled back, as he watched his wife punch him and then knee him in the groin. He groaned in pain and started to advance on her, but she swiped him with David's sword, drawing blood on his face. The doctor dabbed his hand against the cut and glowered at her.

"Oh, I cannot wait to teach you your place, dear Snow…" he growled, as he reached out toward her. Charming moved to intercept him, but Snow gasped and he realized he wouldn't have to. The doctor looked perplexed, as he seemed to be suddenly slowly disintegrating into particles.

"What...what is this?!" Jekyll hissed, as he looked at the Genie, but Aladdin only offered him a smug smirk.

"Look!" Jasmine called, as they witnessed the chalice now aglow with whitish green light. In the place where Snow's glass coffin was stood their sapling, whole once again.

"But how?" David asked in awe.

"It was never really destroyed. The Chalice absorbed the dust from it," Aladdin replied.

"How do you know that, son?" Cassim inquired. Aladdin shrugged.

"I'm not sure I understand it either. I just...know. Phenomenal cosmic powers, I guess," he retorted.

"Charming...look!" Snow called, as they watched their sapling grow into a beautiful, giant tree in the spot where he had now awakened her from a sleeping curse twice. The greenery sprouted to life and beautiful, luscious flowers in multiple colors bloomed brilliantly. They looked at each other and then back up at the tree in awe.

"In all my years...never have I seen anything like this," Cassim mentioned. Aladdin smirked and nodded.

"From what I'm getting, no genies have either," he replied.

"It's incredible," Jasmine uttered, as she gazed up at it.

"And the wish didn't do this?" she asked him. He shook his head.

"No...the Chalice is doing this. The wish just activated all of it. When David asked for Jekyll to basically face justice, the wish chose to use the Chalice to do it," he replied.

"No...NO…" Jekyll cried, as his legs disintegrated and his particles floated toward the tree and disappeared at the base of it.

"What's...happening to me?" he cried.

"Justice," David said sternly.

"You're getting exactly what you deserve," Snow added, as he held her close.

"This...can't be happening?!" he screamed, as he disintegrated entirely and became apart of the dirt around the tree.

"He didn't become part of our tree, did he?" David asked wearily. Aladdin was silent for a moment, like he was listening to something only he could hear, and then laughed.

"No...he's not part of the tree. He's actually not exactly dead either, technically," he replied.

"What does that mean?" Snow asked nervously.

"He's sort of like food for the tree now," Aladdin replied, as he broke down into snickers. David looked at him.

"Hold on...are you saying he's like fertilizer now?" the prince asked. Aladdin chuckled.

"More or less," the genie confirmed. Snow grinned, as she looked at the contagious grin on his face.

"Oh, I love that!" he exclaimed and she yelped, as he picked her up and spun her around. She giggled, as he planted kisses on her lips and cheek.

~*~

"Okay...wait, so Dr. Jekyll became...fertilizer?" Leo asked in an amused tone. David grinned.

"Basically," he answered, as there were barks and snickers of laughter.

"That's awesome!" Leo exclaimed.

"Yeah...wait until Em finds out. She'll have some good one liners for that one," Eva added, as she frowned, remembering the predicament her older sister was currently in.

"So...where is Emma?" Snow asked.

"Yeah...and I thought this was a curse. I'm surprised that everyone still has their memories," David added.

"Not everyone…" Regina said.

"And I think the reason the rest of us do has to do with a bit of deception on Gold's part," she added, as their attention turned to him.

"Fiona needed something to help her cast the curse with the last shard missing. I gave her blood from someone who had cast the curse before. She assumed it was Regina's," he stated.

"But you gave her ours?" David asked, clearly impressed and he nodded curtly.

"So that means true love was woven into the curse again and Emma can break it, right?" Snow asked, with a smile.

"Yes...but therein lies the problem. While we have our memories, the curse did succeed in taking Emma's memories. Fiona and Yzma have also used their wands to soak up all the magic in Storybrooke. Only they can use it," Regina replied.

"Yzma?" David asked.

"That's where things get really hairy. She's a former dark fairy," Leo explained.

"Yes, she was once an apprentice to our very own blue flea over here," Gold added, earning him a glare from Reul Ghorm, whom had been awakened from her coma with the enacting of the curse.

"Yzma deceived me. I didn't know her true history," Blue said in her own defense.

"Her history? She wasn't born a fairy?" David asked.

"No...like Jekyll, her other half ripped her out and banished her to the Enchanted Forest. He is a prominent Inca God known as Virococha, making Yzma immortal too. When she arrived in our land, a thousand years ago, she immediately sought dark power and did her stint as the third Dark One," Rumple revealed.

"Wait...the third Dark One? As in the one that killed Tigerlily's parents?" Snow questioned. He nodded.

"But I thought that Dark One went by a different name? And how is she still alive if she was the Dark One?" David asked.

"Yes, Xanetakos was merely her alias. As for surviving her stint as the Dark One, she was already immortal and her other half is still alive," Rumple answered.

"Yes...killing Tigerlily's parents ensured that she would not be destroyed. As you have probably learned, the truest loves have the power to eradicate the darker half of a being without killing the good half," Aphrodite added. They nodded.

"So...she's the immortal dark half of some God, was a dark one, and a fairy. But where did she come from?" Snow asked.

"That's where it gets even more twisted," Eva replied.

"Yes, apparently, after Blue ousted her from the fairies, she teamed up with the Black Fairy. They conspired to keep the two of you apart or keep you from...having kids. Because not only are you and David dangerous to their kind, but your children are too," Regina explained.

"And Emma is the Savior," David realized. She nodded.

"Since I know from experience that keeping you two apart is impossible, they obviously didn't get the job done. So somehow, Fiona saw to it that Yzma made her way to the Land Without Magic," Regina continued.

"Yeah...I guess she was one of Emma's social workers that she didn't talk about," Leo added.

"Yes...it was obviously something she didn't want to talk about, but she did tell us that this woman was a nightmare and almost destroyed her belief," Regina told them.

"Yes...and she came very close. She tried destroying the book. Had she succeeded, Emma might have never come to the hospital in Boston to find you," Hook added. Snow and David were stunned by this and exchanged a glance.

"She never told us about this particular social worker," Snow recalled.

"You know Emma...she hates talking about that time. And not even she knew this woman was actually working for the Black Fairy and from our land," Eva reminded.

"So...if Emma has no memories now…" David started to say. Regina nodded.

"Yzma has been charged with destroying her belief again. She doesn't remember any of us. She thinks she's been institutionalized her entire life from what we gather, because of her belief and the book," the former Queen answered.

"Oh Gods…" Snow cried, as David squeezed her hand.

"We'll get her to remember, Snow...I promise," he assured.

"That will not be easy...as you know, none of us have any magic," Rumple warned.

"Doesn't matter...we're not going to let this old hag do this to our little girl," David retorted.

"Be advised though, we don't have a lot of time. If Emma's belief is destroyed, then the consequences to all of us are...catastrophic," Rumple stated.

"Rumple...what do you mean by that?" Belle inquired.

"Suffice to say...if Emma stops believing and they get her to destroy the book...then we all cease to exist," he answered. That statement fell over all of them like a lead blanket. They had faced high stakes before, but never ones quite like these.

"This is it then...this is the final battle. It will determine everything," Snow realized.

"It will...but we're going to win this. We need to get into that asylum," David replied.

"Fortunately, we've been working on a plan and it's time to put it into action," Regina agreed, as they began to get ready for the battle ahead...

[timelxrd-victorious]

The Vortex Diaries || A Family Affair

Summary:  "Faction Paradox. It's a family affair." After Martha walks in on the Doctor (allegedly) sleepwalking after a nightmare, a late night cup of tea and conversation leads to her learning more about the Doctor's past than she'd thought possible—and some similarities between the Time Agency and a certain time-traveling voodoo cult. Notes: The Martha Jones seen here belongs to fellow Tumblr RPer doctorandsoldier and comes from a verse where she joined the Time Agency in the 51st century after the Rift picked her up during a U.N.I.T. mission and spat her out in Captain Jack Harkness' home century. She met up with Teine  during one of his visits to the 51st century and he invited her into his TARDIS for as long as she was willing to stay—or for coming and going whenever she felt like it.      This was originally a RP thread we wrote back in late-2015/early-2016.

Martha descended the stairs from the upper levels of the TARDIS, having just used the nearest loo. As she made her way down, the top of the Doctor's spiky chestnut crown of hair rose above the horizon of her sight.

What she didn't expect was to quickly see him naked by the time she'd reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Oh, blimey!" she exclaimed, quickly spinning around until her back was to him. "I'm sorry!"

The Doctor jumped at the sound of Martha's voice, head snapping round before he dove for the nearest place of cover.

"For Rassilon's sake, Martha, give me some warning, won't you?!" he snapped, eyes scanning the floor for any sign of his shirt.

Nothing.

"Um, you wouldn't have happened to see my shirt anywhere, have you?"

"Um, no." Martha still had her back turned. "And what're you doing in the console room like that anyway? I just went to the loo—I didn't expect to see you half-naked in here!"

"And I wasn't expecting company!" he retorted, realizing the half-second the words were out of his mouth how ridiculous he sounded. He ducked his head, rubbed at his eyes. "Sorry. But if you really want to know… I have somnambulism." It was a lie—he didn't—but saying he was a sleepwalker seemed better than the alternative: that he'd woken from a nightmare and gone to the console room to try and calm down, or maybe work on the TARDIS's rather faulty wiring and circuits before going back to what passed for sleep in Time Lords.

Sleepwalking. Martha wasn't completely sure she bought his explanation, but her gut told her it was a little close to the truth. But she felt sometimes, that she was peering at him through a crack in the door that only stayed open for seconds to let light through. Surely, he'd seen horrors…way before she'd even met him at Royal Hope Hospital. Was his sleepwalking provoked by nightmares? Trauma?

She wasn't going to pry. She decided, rather, to start to help him in the best way she knew how. She was not about to enter his bedroom and rummage through his things…but she had an idea.

"I'll be right back, Doctor," she declared, then ran back up the stairs and darted into the spare bedroom where she used to sleep when she traveled with him. Diving into the closet, she found…an old, dark red bathrobe she'd left behind. Yanking it from off the hanger, she rushed back through the doorway and sprinted down the stairs to the console room.

"Doctor…" she began softly. "It's one of my old robes, but…you can wear it for right now, if you like." She gazed at him, her dark eyes enlarging and shining a little in the golden light of the console room.

"Thanks," he said quietly, reaching for the robe and wrapping it around his skinny frame. He stuck his arms through the sleeves, wriggled the ends of his fingers a little before drawing the front of the robe over his chest and tying the sash.

As the Doctor put on the robe, Martha studied him a little more. Her gut told her, again, that something was really bothering him. Pondering for a moment, she decided that it was not a good idea to thrust her hand through the proverbial crack in the door, let it shut on her.

But she wasn't going to leave him alone, at least not for long. "Would some tea help…maybe just a little?" she offered as she gazed up at him. She half-felt stupid for it, but she figured it was a start.

A faint smile, then it was gone. "Yeah, thanks. Have some for yourself if you want."

Martha nodded, and said nothing else before turning and heading past the console up the steps into the upper corridors of the TARDIS. She wasn't exactly thrilled to leave him there by himself, but she'd only be gone a few minutes, to make the tea and then bring it back to the console room.

The old girl must have been trying to help, because she moved the kitchen a little closer to Martha: she saw the warm yellow glow of its overhead light ahead on the right.

She rummaged very briefly through one of the cupboards and found a box of good, old fashioned plain black tea; in short order, she found the kettle, filled it, and set it on to boil. Once it squeaked, she pulled it off and steeped it in a teapot. Gathering up the pot, a couple of cups, some cream, and a small bowl of sugar lumps, she carefully brought the tray from the kitchen down to the console room.

The Doctor was lounging in the jump seat when she returned and toying absent-mindedly with the sash on the robe. He glanced up at the smell of the tea, accepted one of the cups from the tray and took a sip.

"How's everything been at the Time Agency lately?" he asked her.

Martha's eyes followed the Doctor's hands as he picked up one of the cups of tea and sipped on it. At his mention of the Time Agency, she let out a long sigh.

"I'm thinking of leaving, actually," she finally admitted, after setting the tray down on the floor grating just inside the railing around the console and picking up her own cup of tea. "What happened to Jack…made me really think. And me myself, I've done too many things that I'm not proud of."

She blinked a moment, took a sip of her tea, and standing in front of the Doctor, gazed back at him. "In theory, he should have recognised me on Malcassairo, but he didn't. That's because of them erasing two years' worth of his memories. I joined the Agency in that two-year period."

She shook her head sadly. "Even if he did remember but refrained from saying anything to avoid corrupting my own timeline, there would have been something. A look in his eyes, maybe. Something that might have struck me as odd back then, but would make sense to me now."

Lifting the cup to her lips, she drank another small sip of tea before continuing. "I know I had to be very careful of what I said to him at the Time Agency. I couldn't tell past Jack about his future. I wouldn't." She sighed again. "But they took away two years of his life, Doctor."

"I know. He told me that when I first met him with Rose in 1940s war-torn London. Don't know if he ever got his memories back—I never asked, didn't want to find out. And even if I could do some telepathic trick that would help him regain the memories… I won't."

He took another sip, then held the cup in his lap, glanced down and pretended to be very interested in the dregs swirling around. After a few moments of silence, he spoke again: "What did they make you do, Martha?" Another thought struck him. "You never ran into any Victorian-robed figures wearing skull masks, did you?"

He wouldn't have been surprised if any Time Agents had run into Faction Paradox members, considering their similar lines of work. But then again… maybe she hadn't. The Faction, after all, preferred to shroud themselves in myth and legend—much like his own people. Considering their founder had once belonged to one of Gallifrey's Great Houses… it wasn't all that surprising.

Martha nodded. What was done, was done. She herself could tell Jack at least some of what they'd taken from him. But she hadn't. In fact, she'd tried to avoid hopping back to twenty-first century Cardiff unless she was on assignment…and when she did, she watched Jack from a distance, to make sure he was doing okay. Well, relatively so, considering he was still with Torchwood Three.

Surely, Jack thought she was gone for good. Let him think that for now.

Martha froze a little at the Doctor's next question. "I'm not sure I even want to talk about it," she said quietly. "When I was with U.N.I.T. and Torchwood, I had to kill. But…I did it to either defend myself or save lives. But…" She paused for a moment, staring down into her own cup of tea, and then gazed back up at the Doctor with troubled eyes. "I've killed a lot more times than I ever bargained for."

She tilted her head and looked at him curiously when he asked about strange beings. "I haven't," she admitted. "But…I heard rumours about them from the other Agents. Thankfully, no one really had a serious run-in with them. The rumours were is that they were some sort of aliens or something, but nobody every figured out what they were."

He snorted at that. "Hardly. The Faction recruits from all sorts of races, though most of their agents are human."

"I beg your pardon?" Martha cradled the bottom of her teacup with the palm of her left hand while she stared at the Doctor. "What's this faction you just mentioned?"

"Faction Paradox. It's a family affair." He waved his fingers in a spooky manner, then shrugged. "They're necromancers. They summon into our time-stream things that never were, things that were never meant to be. They revel in paradoxes, causal loops, anything that tangles the Web of Time more and more, until the order of the universe is lost in a mass of exceptions and impossibilities.

"These are people to whom the whole reason for linear existence is to see that existence transcended. Or, as we would see it, destroyed.

"There are those who say the Faction create their paradoxes through the use of… other Spirits. Then again, there are those who say they're just a bunch of jumped-up charlatans putting on an impressive act.

"Then again," he added with another shrug, "they say the same thing about me."

Martha gazed back at him. "So…basically instead of escaping the material world, they choose to fuck it up by using paradoxes until the whole mess destroys itself." She shook her head. "Well…what if after all this is gone, there's…nothing? Who would they find in the dark aftermath of it all to chat with and compare notes to see if they'd even succeeded?"

"I don't think they'd really care, to be honest. They live in the Eleven-Day Empire—it's sort of a splinter universe from ours. Trust me, you don't want to go there. And really, right now they have their own problems to deal with, what with the aftermath of the Time War and the Eleven-Day Empire being eaten by Lolita.

"Besides…" Here, for once, the Doctor looked almost uncomfortable. "Their founder, Grandfather Paradox, used to belong to one of the Houses on Gallifrey. Then he became disinterested with their diseased pretensions to immortality and separated from them, and turned his House into a timetravelling, time-active, ritualistic cult based in part in the beliefs of voodoo, time travel with the marked interest in paradoxes and death fetishism that is now their trademark, both rejecting the immortality the Houses sought and ridiculing the Laws of Time. …Did I mention that he's the first one to ever go back and murder his own grandfather? And he's pretty much the embodiment of all potential evil in the universe?"

Martha shuddered. Eaten? She didn't even want to think about the possibilities, so she decided not to ask just exactly what the Doctor meant by that.

When he mentioned Grandfather Paradox going back in time to murder his own grandfather, she shuddered again. "I don't doubt that," she replied, taking another sip from her teacup and glancing back up at him after he explained more about the Faction; then suddenly her mind brightened, and an old memory flooded with new light. "So that's why you looked at me real strange when I asked about accidentally killing my own grandfather back in 1599 London."

"Yeah. That's how the Faction initiates new recruits: if you're human, you go back and murder your father—or grandfather. It makes them more resistant to time-based attacks."

"Blimey," Martha muttered. "Not the sort you'd want to mess with." She paused to drink another sip of tea before continuing. "But I asked that because it was my first experience time traveling. I didn't want to, you know, accidentally cause a paradox."

He raised an eyebrow at that. "We were in 1599 London. What were the possible odds of you killing your grandfather?"

"I pulled that one out of my arse," she admitted. "When I was younger, I remember reading something in a science magazine once about theories in time travel…I was trying to remember time paradoxes and I couldn't think of the name. It was the grandfather paradox. But…I remembered the concept. That's what I was asking about."

"And now that you know Grandfather Paradox actually existed?"

"Can't help but wonder if the theory was named after him," she mused, gazing back at him with unblinking eyes. "In any case, the whole idea of him—and the Faction, to be honest—sounds bloody frightening."

"It wouldn't surprise me if it was. As for him being frightening… Yeah, he is, considering he's a monstrous undead paradox whose shape changes depending on who's looking at him—and that shape is a twisted image of everything you swore you'd never be. The Faction, on the other hand…" He snorted. "Dangerous? Like hell they are. They go in for the skull masks and voodoo and biodata rituals and fancy costumes. They're very big on aesthetics. And when you get the shadow weapons involved…"

"Wait. Hang on a tic. Shadow weapons?" Martha stared back at the Doctor in partially disbelief. But…after what she'd seen with Torchwood and U.N.I.T. it halfway didn't surprise her.

Flashing back to her time at Torchwood before she was snatched up by the Rift, her mind drifted a little; the Resurrection Gauntlet flashed briefly in her memory but she shoved it away quickly. She made a strong mental note to herself never to mention it around the Doctor. ever.

"Yep," he said, popping the 'p.' "Godfathers and Godmothers can even time travel using their own shadows, though they tend to degrade with use. Cousins have independent shadows called sombras que corta—it translates to 'shadows that cut'—that they graft weapons onto. A cousin's shadow can rip a room full of enemies to pieces while the cousin could just be sitting at a table drinking tea. Fascinating, isn't it? And that's not even counting the biodata virus."

"What?"

Martha's eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open. She'd heard of tales like this: mysterious deaths where entire roomfuls of people were decapitated, dismembered, ripped apart like gingerbread men…but no assailant ever seen, no weapons every found. And she remembered whispered rumours…that something like that had happened on Jack's last mission.

But if this was the cause of the chaos on jack's last mission…how'd he get out alive?

"You heard me," he said with a faint smile. "Trust me, you don't want to contract the biodata virus. Biodata… it's like a 4-dimensional DNA pattern. It maps out who you are and how you affect a timeline. The virus latches onto your biodata and messes about with your history so that you become a servant of Paradox before you even contracted it." He pulled a face. "It happened to one of my companions. Not good. Not fun."

Martha nodded. "We encountered some strange sort of thing fitting that description when I was still working at U.N.I.T. Definitely was a virus. But before I could continue my studies of the sample we'd found, U.N.I.T sent me over to Torchwood Three. They'd only intended for me to be gone a few days, maybe a week…and that's when the Rift snatched me up…"

Her eyes suddenly widened and she bolted up. "Hang on a tic!" she exclaimed, staring hard at the Time Lord and leaning closer to him. "Do they have the capability to manipulate the rift?"

"Maybe…? To be honest, I'm not entirely sure how their technology works. Even they don't completely know how it works—if it's just highly advanced tech or if some of it's magic and guided by the Spirits. They might be able to manipulate the Rift, but then again, they might not. This is, of course, assuming they even know about the Rift in the first place. I mean, why else would anyone want to go to Cardiff?"

Martha nodded slowly. This was giving her more questions than she had answers. "Before today, I've always thought the Rift was kind of a random thing…a wound in time and space doing what it will," she offered. "It was the only explanation I could give myself after it'd had snatched me up. During those ten years I was in fifty-second century London, and being stuck there, with no way back." She chuckled darkly. "Popped out some grey hairs in that time period, that's for sure."

"And that's when you joined the Agency, I'm guessing. So, are they actual time police, or are they just more like the Celestial Intervention Agency and muck around with time for their own gain?"

"Best comparison I can make is a time traveling black ops," Martha replied. "Sometimes we just investigate, but a lot of times we've altered events. The purpose being to change without interfering, to leave an effect with no evidence of cause."

He snorted. "Sounds like the CIA to me."

Martha shrugged. "That's a fair comparison," she admitted. "Similar tactics, different operators."

"I was a member of the CIA once," he commented off-handedly. "Suppose I still am, technically." There was a sarcastic twitch of his mouth. "Not that there's any members left. And as for the Celestis… They turned themselves into beings of pure energy in order to escape the War in Heaven."

"That musta been a while back for you," Martha mused, gazing back at the Time Lord. When he mentioned the final fate of its remaining members, she wrinkled her nose. "Blimey. That's one hell of a way to escape."

"Didn't do them much good in the Last Great Time War," he said darkly. "Or in the war against the Enemy."

"I'd imagine not," Martha quickly replied before taking one last gulp of her tea, which was nearly cold by now. "So how'd you get roped into working with them?"

"They forced me. The Celestial Intervention Agency had a tendency to do that—force Time Lords to join. Their official purpose was to protect whatever lay in the Time Lords' best interests, though their motives were often questionable, and we never could be certain as to which side the Agency belonged to—it was largely neutral, rather than a specific force for good or evil. Still…" His voice trailed off as he stared into space in a frozen way for a few seconds, then abruptly he abruptly shook his head as if to clear away the memories.

Martha nodded. Deciphering that there were horrid memories behind his eyes, she decided not to ask him anything else about the CIA. "Blimey," she replied softly. "I'm not really surprised to hear you say that. Seems like that sort of thing is a constant no matter where you go in the universe."

The Doctor barked out a harsh half-laugh at that. "No kidding. I mean, my people didn't have a concept of sin or of good and evil, but still…"

Martha sighed and ran a hand through her long, dark hair. "You know what's really weird? I feel like I should remember the Faction. But I don't. I'm sure in two year's time I would have been told about them, considering the Time Agency is sort of in the same line of work, really."

The Time Lord shrugged. "Like I've said, the Faction's got their own problems. Besides, most people think they're just myths anyway. Jack thought the Time War and the Daleks were a myth. He probably thought the same about my people until he started traveling with me."

Martha nodded, leaning back against one of the coral pillars. "I do remember other Time Agents speculating about Gallifrey and Time Lords. Real, or not." She chuckled. "And I can personally vouch for what Jack thought. To him, Time Lords were like unicorns—mythical and non-existent. Of course, I didn't bother to correct him."

"Of course you didn't." One corner of his mouth twitched in a sardonic half-smile. "Although… I've seen a lot of things in my time. Werewolves, Yeti, vampires, actual witches… and yes, even unicorns. One tried to spear Fitz in San Francisco with its horn and then we realized it just wanted some chocolate. We came across a herd later, and there was a Kraken in the bay at the time. …"

Martha laughed. "I suppose I'm a kindred spirit with that unicorn then," she joked.

But the mention of the Kraken caught her ear. "I used to think they were mythical." She gazed at him, eyes brightening with interest. "I'd never think that one would get in San Francisco bay, however."

The Doctor shifted uncomfortably. "Normally there isn't. But my biodata had been strung all across the city by a certain time-travelling cult and there was an 'unnaturalist' hanging out in his ship bringing in mythological creatures from different dimensions so he could study them. There was also a space-time rift caused by the Master opening the Eye of Harmony when i'd first regenerated into my eighth form in San Francisco, and the kraken was drawn to it. It's complicated."

"I don't doubt it," Martha mused, listening intently. "Before I got snatched up by the Rift, we were trying to find out more about it at UNIT. Our initial findings suggested it's not of Earth origin, but I never found out any more than that. Got sent to Torchwood and, well, you know…"

"Well, the Rift in Cardiff is an actual space-time rip. It's just… there. Even I don't really know why, to be honest. The one in San Francisco was a scar, one the TARDIS threw herself into in order to help close… but it was in agony and tearing her apart. We closed it on account of Dark Sam—the original Sam—running into my biodata, but when she did that she created the blonde Sam that had traveled with me—that Sam had gone missing." He shrugged. "As the Faction would say, a neat little paradox."

Martha listened intently. "Certainly sounds like it," she mumbled, then a quite seriously look washed over her face. "I've had near misses meeting other Marthas from other timelines, but I've lucked out so far. Once I was given a flash drive of classified information that was meant for the version of me who worked for UNIT at the time." She sighed. "Which got me hauled into Scotland Yard."

The Doctor quirked an eyebrow at that. "Really? You weren't arrested, were you?"

"Thankfully, no," she replied with a soft sigh, folding her arms across her chest. "I had no reason to keep the bloody thing. It had nothing to do with my mission at the time, so I just handed it over. It was Mycroft Holmes who dragged me into there, and in that universe Scotland Yard worked closely with UNIT and Torchwood. I figured the other Martha needed it way more than I did." She ended with a bit of a sly grin.

"I bet she did," the Doctor muttered. He leaned back, crossed his legs. "So, anything else you want to know about the Faction?"

Martha peered up, scrunching her nose in thought. "Hang on, I think I might," she murmured before looking back at the Doctor, her eyes widening with a sudden thought. "Actually, I do. If they go back and alter someone's timeline, is there any sort of logic to whose timelines they choose to alter."

As silly as it might sound, Martha was hoping they hadn't altered hers. After all, the Agency, in a sense, was in the same business as the Faction, minus its drama and cultish aspects.

"Well…" For a brief moment, the Doctor looked uncomfortable. "They wouldn't necessarily have to go back on someone's personal timeline. Change that person's biodata, you change the person."

Martha felt a mild shudder ripple underneath her skin. "And they'd know nothing at all," she murmured, not liking the way she felt at all right now: the dread creeping behind her navel, her abdomen muscles tightening.

"For most humans, no. You're nowhere near time-sensitive enough, but your subconscious might pick up on a few details that weren't there before. Dealing with memories is… tricky. False ones can be planted and are so vivid you think they're real; given long enough, your memory of past events will be colored, altered. Some can be erased altogether. When you've been alive as long as I have…" The Doctor cleared his throat. "Anyway. You—along with my other companions—have traveled through the Vortex, which may or may not make it a little more difficult." He slid her a sideways glance. "And what with you being a Time Agent and former companion of the 'Evil Renegade'… they'd be interested in you, don't you think?"

"That's exactly what worries me," Martha confessed. "I can't explain it, but I do feel as if I'm missing a few memories. I don't have any proof of this, yet. Not sure if I ever will."

She let out a long sigh and ran her hand through her dark hair, then gazed back at the Time Lord with sober eyes. "Then again…I was trapped in the Void," she added, swallowing a small, dry lump. "For only a few minutes…at most…but I'm not ruling out that being there hasn't mucked about with my head, either."

The Doctor tilted his head slightly as he studied her, thought for a moment. "The Eternals called it the Howling. Others called it Hell. So It wouldn't surprise me if being trapped in there mucked about with your head." He decided not to mention the effect being trapped in the Divergent universe had on an alternate eighth incarnation—being somewhere where time didn't exist was literally like having a limb torn off. He imagined that the Void would be worse.

"Hell's about right," the Time Agent mumbled, still gazing soberly at the Doctor. "I'm half-tempted to go back and tell Dante a thing or two, but…"

Quickly, she shook her head, as if to clear the awful memory from her mind, but she knew the truth; there was no ridding herself of it. She could distract herself – as she did with all the space hopping – but the feeling of being suspended inside sheer nothingness was only a thought away.

Martha decided to quickly change the subject. "You feelin' any better, Doctor?" she inquired, studying his eyes, or…well, as close as she felt comfortable looking at them. Truth be told, when she could do that for more than a second or two, she found them beautiful, yet unearthly; but she always had to glance away. From what the Time Agent sensed, she imagined that looking too much longer would like staring at both the sun and into an abyss at the same time; those who were wise just didn't.

"Yeah, thanks." Xir mouth quirked in a half-hearted attempt at what xe hoped was a reassuring smile. "If there's anything you want to know more about…" xe started to offer, then stopped. The Doctor wasn't quite sure if she asked xem about information regarding xir past in the War or xir home planet how much more xe would tell her—xe'd spilled enough closely-guarded secrets as it was for one night. (Well, insomuch as it could be considered night on a timeship modeled out of pure mathematics floating through space when it wasn't piloting itself through the Time Vortex.)

Xe cleared xir throat and ducked xir head from her questioning gaze, unsure of what she'd seen in xir eyes—if she'd seen anything at all.

Martha could sense the Time Lord's discomfort, a little. Well, as much as she could, even for the walls he always seemed to be ready to raise at a moment's notice.

She decided not to pry any further; the Time Agent sucked in a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. "Right then," she said, after waiting through a space of (somewhat) uncomfortable silence.

"I think I'll go to bed. If you need me, you come find me, Mister." The last words, she added with a (partially) easy smile, reaching out and clasping his shoulder, squeezing to reassure. "G'night," she said, watching him for just a quick moment before turning to walk past the console and up the stairs to the corridor leading to her bedroom.

"Good night, Martha." His gaze tracked her path up the stairs, stayed there while she disappeared. Already he knew that he wouldn't be going to her room tonight.

He hardly ever did.

[corbierretheraven]

Overwatch: Backfire – Chapter V: An Eye for an Eye

Previous chapter: Beginning of the End Tumblr, AO3, Wattpad

July 14, 2070

It had been over an year since Overwatch was exposed, Amélie disappeared and Gérard was killed, his murderer was still unknown, but everyone was sure it had been his wife and, somehow, Talon was in the mix. Jack was able to come with an agreement with the United Nations to keep all activity going during the investigations. The people, however, were hunting his head. The hate for Overwatch had spread across the globe, people would even call us criminals… It was hell for me. All this time passed by and me and Jack still hadn’t the courage to exchange words. We were also able to finally arrest Akande, keeping him on one of the world’s most secure facilities. Talk about a tough year.

There was an ongoing field mission on Egypt, lead by Captain Ana Amari with her own strike team. In a sniper duel with a Talon enemy — whose identity I would learn later — Ana was seriously injured in her eye, and all her team perished.

As time went by, we did not hear from Ana anymore. We sent search groups to Egypt for about two weeks, they couldn’t find anything related to her. She was gone.

Confirming to her daughter, Fareeha, that her mother was presumably dead was the toughest part of the process. She was, yet, a tough girl, who was proud to follow her mother’s legacy. Although not able to join Overwatch anymore, Fareeha would still fight for peace the way she was able to, in honor of her mother.

August 5, 2070 United Nations Headquarters, USA

Shortly after the search group for Ana was disbanded, the UN summoned a meeting with Overwatch officials — including Jack and Gabriel — to give their verdict upon the future of Overwatch.

They introduced the Petras Act: a document suspending all Overwatch activity worldwide. It was still going to be decided if the agents were going to be prosecuted.

The entire world was following the meeting, broadcast live on every screen of the planet. I will never forget the anger, yet guiltful, face Jack had while trying to defend Overwatch’s existence, while Gabriel was just… there, accepting what was happening.

August 6, 2070 Overwatch Headquarters, Switzerland

The Overwatch members who had just arrived from New York were greeted by a crowd protesting in front of the HQ. They were all holding signs asking for the immediate disband of the organization, cheering about the United Nations’ recent decision.

The orders were clear: evacuate all Overwatch facilities and cease its activities. Of course Jack would resist. When he came back from the United States, he formed a resistance group, occupying the Swiss headquarters, not giving up their connection to the organization. Other agents, including Jesse, Genji, Reinhardt, Torbjörn and Lena, decided it was better for them to quit.

I felt particularly bad for Genji. He never wanted this life Overwatch forced him to have — yet that’s partially his brother’s fault. He would live through constant pain and conflict with himself. After departing, he told me he was going to find peace with a monk he had met once in a mission back in Nepal. His name was Zenyatta, one of the follower’s of Mondatta, a great peace leader. I could only hope he was, indeed, going to find peace.

Another Overwatch facility, Watchpoint: Gibraltar, was lead by Winston, a genetically advanced monkey who is also a brilliant scientist. Everyone there decided to leave too, while he decided to stay, but, unlike Jack, Winston wasn’t creating a resistance. That was just his home.

Moira and Gabriel decided to keep their positions, while I was still unsure about giving up mine, but I felt it was the right thing to do, so I decided to finally talk to Jack properly after all this time... and resign.

As I was about to enter his chambers, Moira stopped me.

— Dr. Ziegler! May I have a minute of your attention?

— Moira… Hi. Um, I’m about to do something… important. Could you wait?

— Don’t do this, Angela — I didn’t know how to reply to that. Did my face gave away that easily I was going to quit? — Trust me, remaining a member of Overwatch might come in handy for you in the future.

— What do you mean? — She kept talking to me on that weird tone, I honestly didn’t know how to react, she was trying to lure me into something.

— Why don’t you come with me?

Everything felt weird about that conversation. I insisted I was busy, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. As I turned my back to her to open Jack’s door, she shot me with a sleep dart.

— Maybe now you’ll listen to me, Ziegler? — I heard from Moira as I tried to regain consciousness.

As I opened my eyes, I could see Moira and Gabriel standing right in front of me. Blackwatch logos on the walls, I was still at our headquarters, tied up to a cold metal chair.

— W-what is going on here?

— Angela — Gabriel started — we think it’s time for you to learn the truth.

— Before edgelord here says anything, I want to personally thank you, Ziegler. If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t have come this far so easily.

— “We?” — I questioned, confused.

— Angela… — I could feel the slight tone of regret on his voice. — We are with Talon.

As Gabriel’s voice echoed into my ears, my entire body started shaking in fear. I was helping the enemy this entire time? And the enemy was… my friend?

— What are you… What?! — I couldn’t even finish a sentence. I mean, I always felt something was wrong, especially after that day after the Uprising, but would never guess it would go this far.

— We need you, Ziegler — Moira continued. — Well, not need, need you. But you would be a welcome resource — how touching. — You will fly with us to Venice — she turns her eyes to Gabriel — where we shall discuss the final part of our plan.

— What plan?

She replied with a subtle laugh.

Gabriel and I exchanged looks, he was slightly ashamed, while I was terrified. As Moira shouted his name, he escorted me to Blackwatch’s orca ship.

Next chapter: Suicide Squad Tumblr, AO3, Wattpad

[pocketseizure]

The Marriage of Lanayru, Chapter Ten

The Marriage of Lanayru

Ganondorf and Zelda arrive at an understanding, and Midna approves.

This chapter concludes the story. Thanks for reading!

2,400 words ☆ NSFW ☆ (Also on AO3) (Story Tag on Tumblr)

* * * * *

Hundreds of years of fighting, and thousands of voices silenced. Proud kingdoms and mighty peoples vanished without a trace. Sandstone worn away by sharp desert winds, and marble pillars crumbling under the creeping feet of moss. This was the legacy he left behind – a sluggish and pervasive entropy. Was the blame for this slow demise his to shoulder, or was he a cog in an unfathomable machine grinding everything that fell under its lethargic treads to dust?

The vengeance Ganondorf sought had already been enacted by the cruel passage of time. Hyrule was trapped in a spiral of destruction, and he could not extricate himself. With the Triforce of Power at his command, the world could have been his, yet still he stayed. Was it responsibility that anchored him to this terrible place, or was it resignation? Was it simply that this was all that remained to him? Or was the magnetic pull that made it impossible for him to leave something deeper, something more primal?

What if, in ten thousand years, everything in this land fell to the elements? Would there still be a princess? Would a hero still defend her? Would there still be a monster, forever denied the mercy of death as it stalked the foundation of a ruined castle?

All of these doubts fell away when Zelda touched him. Despite his reservations, he allowed her to bring him to this tower, and when she asked to see the most vulnerable part of himself he had willingly exposed it to her eyes. She caressed the wound that would not heal, and the lightness of her breath on his tainted skin woke something within him that he had almost forgotten he possessed. May Din forgive him, he wanted to take her as she stood before him, her eyes as blue as the still water of an oasis under a clear sky. She cried out to him in desperation, lamenting that the history of her kingdom would never change. This truth was so deeply engraved onto his own skin that he could not help himself. He kissed her, and then he couldn't stop.

"I want you," she breathed into his mouth, her words sweet on his tongue.

Her body was strong and lithe, yet her skin was softer than a sigh. The way the ripe buds on her breasts stiffened under his hands made him want to take them in his mouth and worship her glory with his tongue, but her lips held him captive. If he kissed her for every hour of the remainder of his life, it would still not be enough, so great was his desire. When she guided his hand across her smooth belly and into the valley between her legs, he marveled that he could touch something so lovely and inviting. His cock throbbed within the constriction of his pants, swollen with the need to feel her. As she grasped him within her palm, he almost lost control, and he came dangerously close to climax as he moved himself against her. She was hot and slick on his fingers, and he knew she was ready for him.  

When he first came upon Zelda, lying so still and pale on this very bed, he had not foreseen this as a consequence of his decision to allow his Triforce to pass into her. He was granted a limited yet piercing access into her mind, and he had been so enraged by the hero's self-righteous ignorance that he abused this connection, possessing this woman's body and seizing her magic. He had been shocked at how easily the holy golden light had come to her hands, even though it was his will that animated her movements and summoned her power. Was it his own body that was somehow impure? Had he been defiled at the moment of his birth, his golden eyes and rounded ears denying him the right to the sacred forces so easily commanded by Hyrule's princess?

These thoughts flowed like a muddy subterranean current under the bedrock of Ganondorf's mind as he positioned himself above Zelda, but it was too late to worry over the meaningless concerns of purity and pollution. If the legends were true, she was the reincarnation of a goddess, but in this moment the women underneath him was greater than any divine being in this world, and he wanted her with a longing so fierce that he would have died if that would please her.

Zelda gently pulled him closer, and then he was inside her. She was so warm, and so wet, and so tight around him. He could feel himself growing even harder, every inch of his cock so sensitive that he could barely stand it. The sensation of her slender fingers caressing the thick muscles of his back augmented the bright flare of his lust. If he moved as he wished, it would be over.

Ganondorf lowered his head to kiss the side of Zelda's neck just under her ear. Her skin smelled like the white flowers that once bloomed in the castle gardens on summer nights, filling the humid air with their delicate fragrance. She was everything he ever wanted, all of his fantasies made real. She was wisdom and grace, but she was also beautifully herself, and she was guiding him deeper into her with every impatient touch of her hands.

He began to move, and soon she joined him in a perfectly balanced rhythm. Every thrust was a chorus of pleasure, every breath a magnificent crescendo of wanting. He could feel her beginning to achieve her climax, and so he took her as close as he could, leading her right to the edge of her desire. His body was at its limits, its every particle tightly wound and vibrating with the anticipation of release. All it would take was one final push – and then Zelda came, crying out his name as her inner walls clutched his cock. The feeling was unbearable, and he lost himself to his joy as his seed spilled into her.

He returned to himself to find that she was kissing his beard over and over, her lips like the featherlight brush of wings. He covered her mouth with his own, tasting her while he was still inside her, the last tremors of their pleasure shooting through his nerves and lingering on his skin. For the first time he felt comfortable in his body. Perhaps he had finally returned from the realm of eternal Twilight. He had set out to destroy this woman, but she had saved him.

"How was it?" he asked her, breaking the kiss. "Is this how the legend of Hyrule's princess is supposed to play out?"

She laughed as she gazed up at him with her brilliant eyes. "Now that it's come to this, there's something you should probably know about me," she said. "I wasn't born as Zelda, and I was never supposed to be a princess."

A chord of understanding began to resonate within Ganondorf's heart. "If you're not a princess, then who are you?" He slowly pulled himself out of her body and lay down next to her before gathering her in his arms.

"When I was a girl, my name was Lanayru," she answered, her head resting under his chin. "I was the daughter of the Duke of Faron. He loved the lake he would always cross on his way to Hyrule Castle, so much so that it became my namesake. I grew up on an estate between the ocean and the forest, and I thought I would spend my life there. It was an idyllic childhood, but I always wanted something bigger, something more. I should have been careful what I wished for. I wasn't exaggerating when I said this kingdom is falling apart. When the king was assassinated, my father assumed the throne, and I became a princess. He fell to a conspiracy shortly thereafter, yet here I remain."

"But I'm not a Zelda," she continued. "The scions of the true line of the Hylian kings are known by their golden hair and boundless optimism, and I have neither. I was given the name 'Zelda' to legitimize my position, but ever since I took up residence in this castle I was compared to what I should be, always unfavorably. I'm too old for such things now, but the insults still sting. If my court is to be believed, I have no more right to be here than you do."

"Then I was misled," Ganondorf said, smiling as he kissed her hair. "I thought I'd made a conquest of Hyrule's princess."

Zelda kissed his neck, her lips cool on his skin. "You're an imposter too, you know. You were supposed to be Ganon. You were supposed to be the calamity that brought my people together, but here you are warming my bed. What will become of Hyrule?"

Ganondorf stroked Zelda's back as he considered her words. He could not tell her that he already possessed a Hyrule that she would never see, a Hyrule that now existed only in his memories. His Hyrule had been destroyed, and when it fell her Hyrule had been created. At first he did not know whether he intended to crush this kingdom or claim it as his own, but he had come to see that Hyrule belonged just as much to him as it did to her, even if neither of them had any legitimate claim to it. With his very existence he challenged Hyrule, and because of his existence it was reconstructed.

"If I'm not Ganon, then what am I?" he asked her.

"Perhaps you were, once. The Sword of Sages seems to have separated Ganon from your body, but you still carried it with you through the Twilight. Now that you've brought it back, it's free once again. Maybe it will possess someone else this time," Zelda explained. "Maybe it will possess me," she added in a smaller voice.

"Would you like that?" Ganondorf found the idea strangely arousing.

"I suppose a hero would need to defeat me," Zelda responded as she trailed her fingers along the stiffness forming against her thigh.

"It would be an honor to face you in battle," Ganondorf growled, leaning forward to kiss her.

"Hey, did someone mention needing a hero?" a voice broke into the room.

"Midna!" Zelda gasped. She grabbed a pillow to hide herself. Before she could stop him, Ganondorf jumped off the bed and made straight for the mirror framing a glowing image of Midna's face.

"How dare you!" he roared. "Cross over into this world and I will give you something worth watching."

"Calm down, big guy. I just opened the connection. I was worried about Zelda." She scowled at him. "As I should be."

"How very like you to lurk in the shadows."

Midna shrugged. "You see some interesting things from the shadows. For example," she smirked as she glanced down to his waist, "they certainly don't make them like that anymore."

"You infernal woman, don't think you're safe just because – "

Zelda coughed, and Ganondorf and Midna whipped around to face her. She had managed to dress herself, and she threw Ganondorf's shirt at him. He caught it and pulled it over his chest.

"Zelda!" Midna beamed from the mirror. "It's good to see you in one piece. Your hair's a little messed up, though."

"Oh, I..." Zelda hurriedly ran her hand back from her forehead.

"Just kidding. It looks like you two are getting along, so I'll leave you alone. I think I figured out a solution to your pig problem, so get in touch when this swine leaves, okay?"

"If you have something to say about Ganon, you will say it in front of me," Ganondorf demanded.

"It has nothing to do with you. You've already caused enough trouble, don't you think?"

"It's fine if he's here," Zelda interjected, laying a hand on his arm.

"Listen," Midna said as she rolled her eyes, "I think you two have other matters to attend to at the moment, and I'm not too terribly interested in talking to people who aren’t wearing any pants. I just wanted to say that I heard about what happened in Kakariko this morning."

A troubled look crossed Zelda's face. "How...?"

Midna waved her hand. "You never tell me anything, so I talk to Telma." She laughed at Zelda's shocked expression and continued. "Anyway, if Ganon has showed up again, just send it here. We Twili have enough magic to keep it out in the Twilight wastes. In the meantime, Link is getting restless, and maybe this will give him something to do."

"This is preposterous. You just want to keep the boy with you," Ganondorf spat at her.

"Maybe I do. And who can blame me? I have good taste, unlike your finacée."

"Midna." Zelda raised her voice. "Could we have this conversation later?"

"Right, right. I get it." Midna grinned. "I'll give you some privacy and, you know, let you get back to it. But you!" She pointed a finger at Ganondorf. "Don't think you're off the hook. I'm watching you. From the shadows, boyfriend."  

Midna's image winked out. Ganondorf's shoulders slumped, and he allowed his shirt to fall open. Zelda exhaled, and he shot her a glance.

"After all the trouble I went through to get you undressed," he grumbled.

"Oh sweet Nayru, did you just make an actual joke?" Zelda tilted her head, and the corner of her mouth lilted upwards in a grin. "Will this night get any stranger."

Ganondorf walked to her and began unbuttoning her shirt. "I hate that woman, but I'm glad to have her assistance."

"Her assistance?"

"In taking care of our pig problem, as she put it."

Zelda covered his hands with hers. "Our problem?"

Ganondorf raised his eyebrows. "We're getting married in a week, aren't we?"

"I suppose we are. That was an excellent strategy, if I do say so myself."

Zelda laughed, and Ganondorf pulled her to him. Hundreds of years of Hyrule's past weighed heavily on his every thought and movement, and as long as he remained here he would never be able to fully cast off this burden. His fury would always live within him, as would every name of his fallen comrades. Hyrule was vast, however, as was the world beyond its borders, and somewhere the descendants of his tribe lived on. If this woman, clever and wise as she was, could shine light into the darkness of the road ahead of them, then so be it. He understood that their relationship would be difficult, but he had never been one to back down from a challenge.

"Will you take me, then?" he asked her.

"Gladly," she answered. "It will be an adventure."

He kissed her then, and she opened her arms to accept him.