Archive of Our Own

Phil is going crazy.

He’s currently traveling on foot with a cranky fledgeling and a morose dog on the fastest route to Origins, despite the aching of his heart pulling him to his missing fledgling. The fledgling he is currently tearing his hair out about. The fledgling he could be getting back to faster if there wasn’t a storm on the horizon, electrifying the air and therefore grounding him and Tommy. If Phil was on his own, he’d just risk flying through the storm— anything to hurry.

Because Techno is gone, he’s alone and most likely hurt and Phil could have prevented this if he saw the signs earlier—

(fledgling-son-protect)

Breathe.

The sky gives a rumble, dark clouds rolling in. At this point, he wishes the storm would hurry up so he can get back into the sky. Floof runs up ahead, staying within sight, yet letting little yips up at the darkening clouds. Phil sighs as the dog gets distracted by a mushroom once more, taking his time to sniff as Phil treads past him.

“Come on, Floof.” Phil calls back to the dog as he continues onward.

A few moments later, the sound of metal tags jingling gets closer. Phil expects the dog to trot on past him to go to the next thing that interests him, not to immediately SLAM into his legs, knocking him off-balance and nearly sending him off his feet.

“Holy fuck— Floof!” The avian squawks, arms pinwheeling in order to keep his balance. Tommy grunts into his back, eyes popping open at the disruption. “What the hell— drop it.”

Said dog only tilts his head at the command, all innocent eyes and floppy ears as he holds a mushroom head in his mouth, somehow keeping a steady pant through the fungi. Phil doesn’t recognize the fungi as anything poisonous, but the last thing they needed was Floof getting sick.

Phil stifles a groan. Getting Floof to drop something was always a fight and a half.

“Gods... Floof, drop it.” Phil pleads, reaching out for the dog who quickly evades his hands. “Bad, drop it.”

Floof yips playfully through the mushroom in his mouth, the sound being muffled and small. Drool drips from his open mouth. Tommy giggles from over Phil’s shoulder, extending a hand down to the dog.

Reluctantly, Phil bends down to let Tommy reach the small white mutt.

“Drop it.” Tommy says with his hand out, voice small and kind enough to make anyone’s heart melt.

Floof lets the slobbered-over mushroom fall into Tommy’s awaiting hand. The kid holds onto it proudly, looking at Phil with a smug smile. “Dad, I got it.”

Phil shakes his head exasperatedly. “Good job, Toms.”

“Can I throw it for him?”

“It’s not a dog toy, bud.” Phil explains, hearing Tommy huff behind him. “I’ll just put it in my pocket, okay?”

Tommy grumbles, obviously disappointed with this outcome, but thankfully hands Phil the mushroom without too much fuss. The elder avian wordlessly drops the fungi into the pocket of his dark green jacket, continuing onwards. Flood, seeing that the object of his entertainment had been taken away, quickly runs up the path again to find something else to bother.

Tommy grumbles from his perch on Phil’s back, brows furrowed and lips pouting. Phil stifles a sigh, knowing the expression well enough to know that Tommy would soon begin to complain about anything and everything under the sun. And as adorable as he was, Phil couldn’t really deal with it right now.

As he predicted, ten minutes later Tommy begins to complain like every other kid on a road trip.

“Dad?” Tommy groans, his cheek smushed into Phil’s shoulder, having forced the man into carrying him much earlier in the trip. “When are we gonna get Techno?”

Phil sucks in a breath, biting down the calling chirp stuck in his throat. He knows Techno wouldn’t be able to answer it in the first place. “I don’t know.” He admits, anguish tightening around his neck. “We need help. We can’t track him down alone.”

Not entirely a lie. Phil knows it would be better to have backup and a proper plan before getting Techno, along with a surefire way to locate him instead of searching blindly. However, Phil would have ignored these limitations if it weren’t for Tommy, his youngest fledgling. Leaving a six-year-old in the treehouse all by himself with the knowledge that the nearby town was not only hostile to hybrids, but also willing to call the hunters on anyone suspicious enough is enough reason to delay Techno’s rescue. Dropping Tommy off at Origins is the best way to ensure his safety.

The answer isn’t good enough for Tommy, however.

“Why not?” Tommy asks, a heat behind his words that Phil detects immediately. “Why can’t we just go and get him?”

“It’s too dangerous.” Phil grinds his teeth together, the words tasting horrible on his tongue despite their truth. Tommy doesn’t seem to accept the answer, however, because he immediately faceplants into Phil’s shoulder.

“But why?”

“It’s better if we have others with us, to keep us safe. To keep you safe.” Phil placates, once again. “I know how much you want to, mate, but we can’t track him down by ourselves.”

“Why not?” Tommy whines, baby blue eyes filling with tears of frustration. “Why— why not??”

Phil sighs, painfully familiar with the roundabout conversation they’ve had about six times by now. He doesn’t try to convince Tommy, letting the kid continue to pour out his frustrated “why’s.”

An hour later, the temperature drops enough for Tommy to begin shivering, and Phil figures that’s it about time to set up camp. It’s almost physically painful for him to put his remaining fledgling down, wanting to keep walking through the night to get to Origins, because the faster he can get to Origins, the faster they can find Techno.

Tommy squirms in his arms, wanting to explore. Floof barks loudly at the show, likely scaring away any and all animals in the area. So regardless of the pulling of his heart, of his instincts crooning (fledgling-mine-safe), he lets Tommy go.

Tommy and Floof run into the underbrush of the forest, not too far out of Phil’s sight. The avian’s feathers prickle at Tommy’s absence, but the boy is loud enough to hear from a mile away, so Phil tries to settle and clear out the area. He pulls an old fold-up tent from his backpack, mentally dreading his next task.

Phil does his best to get a camp going, instincts unsettled at the makeshift nest  resting so close to the ground. He knows that he won’t be getting any sleep tonight, but hopefully Tommy will be able to. His instincts will be settled enough for him to sleep as long as Phil is nearby.

It’s just as Phil is starting a fire that Tommy cries out from the forest, sending his protective instincts into a frenzy as his pupils split threateningly.

“Phil!” Tommy cries from the forest. “Daaaaad!!!”

(danger-fledgling-protect)

They have him.

Phil’s wings cut through the air in a matter of moments, the earth crumbling beneath his feet as he launches himself up into the air. He locates Tommy instantly, vision tunneled on his boy’s wide eyes, at the figure looming above him. His sword whistles through the air as he descends upon them, wings blocking out the sun as he prepares to show this motherfucker why you should never mess with one of his sons—

Phil comes face to face with soulless white eyes and fangs that remind him a little too much of Techno.

He stops mid-swing, just barely controlling his momentum into slicing past the creature instead of stabbing directly in. Grass flies as he skids back into the earth, bucket hat nearly flying off his head from the sudden stop before he secures it with a hand, pressing it securely atop his head.

“Dad!” Tommy greets, completely untouched and mostly unfazed. “Look what I found!”

The creature squeaks, white sclera freakishly wide. Their hand comes to grasp at their throat, so close to being sliced by Phil’s blade.

Phil breathes in, his wings still arching high above his head. They’re alone in the clearing— no other sounds of life echo into his ears. No hunters. No ropes or chains or sharp swords to greet him in his vulnerability. Just… a demon.

A demon.

Phil snarls (danger-fledgling-come), feathers bristling to grab Tommy closer. The fledgling remains blissfully unaware of the entity he’s stumbled across.

Of course Tommy had managed to somehow find a demon of all creatures. Why would he think otherwise?

“Tommy.” Phil says sternly, watching the demon flinch at the sound of his voice. “Get away from them.”

“But Floof likes him!” Tommy crows, naive and oblivious.

The demon skitters away from the dog, looking unsure. Their lack of pupils makes it hard to gauge where they’re looking. It makes Phil uneasy, his feathers sticking out uncomfortably no matter how hard he tries to smoothen them out.

“Tommy.” He threads a (come-fledgling-danger) into his words. “Now.”

With a roll of his eyes, Tommy steps closer to Phil, scoffing when the elder ushers him behind his wings. Phil glares down at the little demon, eyes darkening. The little thing cowers, pointed tail winding around their leg, but stays rooted to their spot.

“What do you want.”

“Uhm— nothing? I was just asking if—”

“If it’s nothing then we’ll be on our way.”

“No, wait!” The demon finally speaks, and Phil is surprised to hear the underlying softness of their voice. “I need help!”

A hiss rattles its way through Phil’s chest as he pulls Tommy closer to himself. “Wasn’t sparing your life enough?”

The fiend flinches harshly at that, but bravely continues on.

“Please, I swear I won’t hurt you guys.” The demon’s eyes crinkle, strangely—almost deceivingly— innocent. “I swear.”

Just as Phil is about to respond, the sky opens up and begins to pour. It crashes down on them in an instant, the wind picking up and throwing the loose fabric of their clothes about. A full-body shiver runs through Phil as he’s promptly drenched, water droplets seeping uncomfortably between his feathers.

“Run!” Tommy squeals, curly blonde hair sticking to his forehead.

Phil takes off after his fledgling, spreading his wings out wide to try and shield him from the rain. Floof yips from up ahead, barreling around them, not entirely sure why they are running, but enjoying it nonetheless. The demon follows closely, which Phil pays no mind to until they reach where Phil’s mostly-finished camp is.

Tommy scurries into the tent with little issue, only needing Phil’s help when his tiny fingers slip on the zipper. With the flap held open, the fledgling practically dives into the warmth. Floof follows quickly after, shaggy white fur dripping with rainwater. A moment later, Tommy yelps, and Phil automatically assumes that the younger got sprayed by Floof.

Phil’s head snaps over to the demon, seeing them stopped in their tracks just before the tent. He opens the flap wider, urging the demon to get in.

They hesitate for a moment in the freezing rain, clearly wary, but another rumble makes them push past it to slip inside. Phil follows afterwards, feeling immediate relief from the harsh winds. If he wasn’t so confident in his ability to make good campsites, he would’ve been worried that his tent would have blown away.

Immediately, Phil gets to work in drying his and Tommy’s wings, grabbing blankets and rubbing them into the younger avian’s wings and hair. Tommy squeaks at the manhandling, trying to bat him away as Phil wipes off every last bit of water from his fledgling. Then he bundles him up tightly in blankets from the nearest, ignoring the child’s complaints.

He doesn’t care if getting sick from the cold is an old wives’ tale, his fledgling deserves to be nice and warm.

Floof busies himself with wiping his body on the sides of the tent, tail wagging rapidly as he shakes himself out again. Luckily the dog is dry enough for the water to be mere flicks, only making Phil ruffle his feathers at the light feeling. He tosses a blanket to the demon huddled into the far corner of the camp as an afterthought, hardly paying mind to the water dripping off their hair.

Another rumble shakes the Earth as Phil’s instincts finally settle from their constant (danger-fledgling-cold), wings smoothening out only to ruffle up again. He hopes Techno isn’t caught in this rain.

(fledgling-missing-hurt)

He hates the feeling of a missing fledgling, hates it with all of his being.

He plops Tommy right onto his lap, covering his wings over him as if that could quell the constant panic in his chest at missing his son. The space beneath his wings feels too empty without him.

Floof rolls along the ground one last time, doing a final shake-out before going over to the demon and sniffing him. The horned creature stiffens, tail going rigid behind them as the little white dog performs his examination. After a moment, the puppy licks their hand and the demon relaxes, a hand going to gently pet the dog.

Phil clears his throat, seeing the demon a bit more relaxed and wanting to actually ask some questions this time.

“What’s your name, mate?”

The demon’s shoulders hike up to their head, staying there until Floof nudges into their hand again.

“Bad.”

Phil blinks. “Bad?”

“Short for Bad Boy.”

“Huh????”

“I did not choose this name, my summoner did.” The demon looks somewhere between annoyed and embarrassed, lips pressed together. “Please, just call me Bad.”

Tommy wiggles in Phil’s lap in an attempt to get closer to the demon. “I like your horns! They’re so cool!”

Bad’s mouth splits into a genuine smile. “Why, thank you!”

His horns are rather stubby in comparison to other demons Phil has met, but it’s likely the child-like appearance plastered onto him to make him seem that way. Phil holds Tommy closer to himself, hearing the rain come down in sheets from outside, and sighs.

He’s fairly sure Bad won’t try anything, not after Phil spooked him so badly. Still, his heart patters in his chest at a stranger being near his almost-finished nest.

Phil clears his throat, forcing his feathers to smoothen out.

“You said you need help?”

Bad lights up, sitting up straight. His pointed tail whacks against the sheen wall of the tent. “You can help me?!”

Phil’s grip tightens on Tommy. “Depends on what it is.”

“Oh. Well, my friend was taken by humans.” Bad explains in a surprisingly soft voice, contrasting the dark look in his eyes. “I’m trying to find him.”

“Techno was taken by humans too!” Tommy explains loudly, a fiery indignation in his voice. And then, with all the vitriol in his little body, he hisses out a, “I fucking hate humans. They’re all rotten.”

Bad gasps.

“Language!”

Phil raises a brow as Tommy gapes, gobsmacked. Phil is more surprised that a demon of all people cares about cursing, and Tommy is only surprised that someone has the audacity to correct him.

“Wh— but it’s true!” Tommy presses, feathers ruffled.

The demon glares at the child, tail lashing dangerously behind him. Phil has to hold back a hiss as Bad glowers at his fledgling. “Don’t talk about them that way! Skeppy is a human.”

Tommy pauses at that, eyes growing wide. “Huh?”

Bad huffs at Tommy’s dumbfounded look, looking a second away from cussing the kid out. Or, maybe not cussing him out, considering how he reacted to Tommy saying “fuck.” Phil decides to quickly move on and somehow salvage the conversation—

“Is Skeppy the name of your friend, mate?” He asks, cutting off whatever he was going to say.

Bad closes his mouth and nods firmly in Phil’s direction, not without glaring a little at Tommy. “Yeah, my best friend.”

“My best friend is better than your best friend.” Tommy mutters petulantly, arms crossing over his chest, chin tucked. He clearly wasn’t a fan of being silenced so suddenly. “My best friend is a goat.”

“So? Doesn’t mean they’re better.” Bad rises to the bait easily, and Phil has to stifle an exhausted groan at the bickering.

“Tubbo is so much better than your human friend!” The avian gripes, outraged. “I don’t even know why you would be friends with a fucking human! They took my brother!!”

Ohhhkay. This is escalating. Time to stop.

Phil butts in before Bad can respond with an equally enraged quip, putting a stop to their sudden argument.

“Toms, who Bad is friends with is not our business, okay? We do not judge people without getting to know them first, I’ve told you this.” Phil placates his kid. With Tommy sufficiently cowed, he turns to Bad. “Although, I am curious of how this came to be. Can you give us some context, mate?”

Bad’s face wrinkles up for a moment, clearly resistant to the idea, before relaxing. His tail goes limp, shoulders dropping. He looks off to the side, wringing clawed hands together anxiously.

“I just— Skeppy’s a human, y’know? He’s a good person because that’s who he is on the inside, not because of his human status. If one human can be good, then that means that there has to be some good in humanity.”

Phil tilts his head, feathers relaxing a bit. He could understand the demon’s perspective, but there was no way he’d be giving humans another chance, regardless of any supposed “good” in them. Absolutely no forgiveness for the ones that stole his baby, his fledgling, his son. He’ll give this Skeppy kid some grace, however. Hatred is learned, not passed down. But..—

“That’s… strangely kind, for a demon. Aren’t you lot supposed to feed on mischief and suffering?”

Bad shrugs, looking as if some sort of dejection has plagued him. “I think I might be bad at being a demon. I’m sorta weak.”

Phil looks him over, noticing the small size of his horns and tail. His appearance is rather childlike as well, and the more Phil thinks about it, the more like that this is his actual form rather than an innocent front. A child-demon then, merely an imp. He clearly doesn’t have much mana. Not a disguise, as so many demons are prone to do. Just an actual child.

Phil winces, thinking about his prior actions. He may have not known that the demon was an actual child, but he still jumped the gun a bit. He shakes his head, dislodging that thought and resolving to address it later.

“Why did they take him then, if he’s not a hybrid?” Tommy asks, voice holding an ounce of petulance. Pride is a hard thing for the small child to give up, especially for Tommy.

Bad fidgets, biting his lip with his fangs, obviously uncomfortable. His tail comes to wrap around his middle. “He’s the one who summoned me. They— they didn’t like that I was in their town… they didn’t like that I was alive.”

Ah, shit.

The guilt suddenly weighs down on him like a thousand tons, crumpling him underneath its weight. Phil tastes bitterness on the back of his tongue.

This poor kid.

“They tried getting rid of me, at first.” Bad’s eyes look haunted for a moment before he shakes his head, brows furrowing. “Skeppy saved me, but the humans got him.”

“And he’s not..—”

“He’s not dead, if that’s what you’re asking.” Bad’s shoulders hike up to his ears. “I’d know if he was. The humans have him trapped somewhere, so I need to find him.”

“Techno’s not dead either, or else we’d know!” Tommy says brashly, a flame in his eyes that, coupled with the words spouted from his mouth, knocks out the breath from Phil’s chest.

He hadn’t even thought about the possibility that Techno could be dead. He’s been trying to avoid that possibility since the moment Techno went missing, knowing well enough that at the very least, in the hands of the humans, Techno would be hurt. He’d be hurt and hurt and hurt before dying, because humans never give hybrids like them a painless death.

There are so many possibilities of where Techno could be, and each option is as equally horrifying. Phil doesn’t like to think about it, so he doesn’t. Not much more than he has to, at least.

“Phil?” Tommy’s eyes meet his own, baby blue irises suddenly looking doubtful. Ah, Phil forgot to answer the boy. “He’s not dead, right?”

The elder avian’s chest squeezes painfully.

“No, he’s not.”

The “yet” goes unsaid, but Tommy doesn’t need to know that. Tommy shouldn’t have to go through the worry that his brother won’t come back alive. He shouldn’t have to worry about kidnapping or pain, chains or ropes. He shouldn’t have to worry if Techno is alive or not.

Phil sighs and turns back to the demon.

“I’m sorry, about earlier.” Phil apologizes, guilt welling up inside of him. “I was just—”

Bad waves him off. “You were concerned about your baby, I get it.”

Ignoring Tommy’s screams of “I’M NOT A BABY!!” Phil nods, throat dry.

He still automatically judged the demon without thinking about it, having thought that he would be cruel just because most of demon-kind thrives off of cruelty. Phil almost killed him because of that split-second judgement, almost beheaded him for the crime of being born as something he can’t control. Or— summoned, he guesses. Demons aren’t really born.

The image of Techno with his similar fangs and red eyes pops up in his head, and he feels all the more ashamed.

“Still, it was wrong of me. I’m sorry, Bad.” Phil dips his head, wings sprawled over the ground. He looks up again to give the demon a thin-lipped smile. “I’ll help you find your friend.”

Bad gasps silently, sitting up straight, his tail suddenly swinging in an arc. “Wh— really?!”

“Yeah, mate. We might as well, seeing as we’re currently looking for Techno.” Phil internally bites back a sigh, knowing that looking for a second missing kid would definitely slow down the search for Techno. But he isn’t a rotten person— as much as he wants to scoop Techno into his arms and never let him go, he can also help a few children on the way.

“Thank you.” Bad says, eyes shining.

“You get to come to Origins with us!” Tommy crows, reaching out to a snoozing Floof. “You can meet Jack, and Niki, and Scott, and Aimsey, and— and Tubbo—”

“And I think it’s time for you to go to bed.” Phil chides gently, scooping the nestling up and setting him down gently in the middle of the makeshift nest. “We’ll talk more about it tomorrow.”

Bad looks like he has a plethora of questions on the tip of his tongue, but thankfully holds them as he nods in resignation. That’s good, because Phil is a bit too emotionally exhausted to answer any more questions. Very tired with worry for one fledgling, instincts wrung out and dry from the fact that his fledgling is missing, very tired from corralling his other fledgling, and very tired from dealing with the demon in front of him.

He’s fine.

He’s got everything under control.

He just needs to get to Origins so he can drop these kids off, and then he can slaughter Techno’s captors.

What a brilliant plan.

“Goodnight, sleep well.” He buds to the demon, wrapping his wings around Tommy with an exhausted chirp.

“..Goodnight.”

Tommy and Bad could not have clashed more in personality.

Tommy swears like a sailor and Bad acts as though the words are the equivalent of holy water to him, flinching away with sharp words and hisses. Tommy is crude and enjoys poking fun at people while Bad scolds him like a parent to a rowdy child, insisting on kindness. Tommy riles people up on purpose, and Bad is easily riled up, making him the most entertaining person to the child.

If he hadn’t known their hybrid counterparts, Phil would’ve assumed that Tommy was a demon and Bad an avian based by their conversation alone. Regardless, it was tiring putting out every fire between them, and eventually Phil gave up and let them bicker. They were so close to Origins— just a little bit longer of the constant bickering.

“—he’s fucking old, Bad, and if you say he’s not, then— then that means you’re lying, and lying is bad.”

Phil sighs internally.

“Language!!” Bad yells back, “Oh my goodness, Tommy, Phil’s not old, you’re just being mean! And I’m not lying!”

“Oh yeah?” Tommy goads, and Phil can tell by the tone of his voice that he’s truly enjoying riling the demon up. “Why don’t we ask him? Hey Dad, how old are you?”

Bad screeches so loudly the birds in the nearby trees fly off spooked. “You can’t just ask him that-!”

Phil should probably be a responsible adult and tell them to shut up, but he’s too busy being a good parent to Floof, who he keeps vigilant track of. Yes, he’s watching Floof, and that’s why he can’t deal with the nonstop bickering behind him.

Luckily for him, the border to Origins crests over the hill, filling him with relief.

“Almost there!” He calls back to the boys, interrupting their little squabble.

Tommy interrupts his own quip with a gasp, running up ahead, wings smacking Bad in the face as he goes. The demon squawks but quickly follows the younger boy in sprinting past Phil. The elder avian sighs and quickens his pace, watching the veil between Origins and the rest of the world shiver.

Tommy stops just before the veil, staring through it as if he could already visualize what’s on the other side. Bad stops a step away from him, looking around confusedly at the vast nothingness Tommy stares into. As Phil approaches the veil, the fledgling beams.

“I waited this time, Dad!” The golden boy bounces on the tips of his toes.

Phil ruffles blonde locks with his talons, grinning tiredly. “Good job, Toms, I’m so proud of you.”

Tommy absolutely melts, leaning into Phil’s hand like a flower starved of sunlight. Phil takes the boy’s hand and offers his other to the confused imp next to him, watching as his hand creeps into his own.

“What are we doing?”

“We’re crossing the veil into Origins.” Phil answers as simply as he can, feeling Bad tighten his grip on his hand. “The veil hides Origins from anyone looking to hurt hybrids. We can pass through because Scott has us whitelisted. As for you though, you gotta hold onto me if you want to get in.”

“Oh. Is it in front of us?”

“Yeah, mate.” Phil lets his hand trail over the veil, seeing it shimmer underneath his touch. “It’s not very easy to see, but it basically acts like a mirror to the human eye. Those trees in the distance are actually the trees behind us.”

“Oh.” Bad repeats, this time in awe. “That’s so cool.”

Tommy pulls petulantly at his hand, flaring his wings as if that will somehow release Phil’s tight grip on his hand. “Let’s fucking go already!!”

“Language!”

“Yes, Tommy, we’re going, just give me a second.”

Going through the veil feels like traveling through honey. They are a bubble passing through water, traveling up to the surface so they can finally breathe.

The veil fades as they pass through and reveals the secrecy of Origins, a plethora houses and different forms of bases surrounding one floating island. The jagged piece of land hovers in the air— not possible by human standards. Water cascades down the edge of the floating island into a crater below, making it look as if the island were practically plucked out of the ground by gentle fingers. And maybe they were.

Humans could never create something like this.

Floof passes through the veil a second after with no further troubles, curly cotton tail wagging with the feeling of the veil slipping off his form like water. There was really no need to worry about whether he could pass the veil or not— all passive animals are whitelisted. It’s easier to grow the ecosystem that way.

“How..” The demon gasps, eyes wide. “How is it staying up there?”

“Magic.” Phil answers, although he doesn’t really know the logistics of it. Scott would know more, considering that he was the first resident of Origins and has control over the otherworldliness of it. Maybe also the fact that he’s considered a myth by both humans and hybrids.

Luckily, Bad seems to accept the answer, nodding with wide eyes.

Floof leads the charge toward the center of Origins, yipping excitedly at his favorite place, excited to see even more familiar faces. Tommy chases the little dog, laughing loudly. Bad falls into step behind them as they travel to the floating island, greeting any hybrid neighbors they come across. All walks of life casually interacting with each other, the barriers between their differences fallen away in the safety of Origins.

The elder avian notices the way the demon observes the place, blank eyes comically wide and muscles coiled as if ready to bolt at any moment. He eyes every hybrid that they pass distrustfully, yet letting them linger in intrigue. Phil guesses that not even hybrids have been kind to the young imp.

“Alright.” Phil stops directly before the island, the chill of its shadow covering the group like a blanket. “I’ll bring you up one at a time, if that’s okay with you.”

“Me first!” Tommy jumps for the opportunity, red wings flapping in anticipation. “Me, please!”

Phil sighs with a smile. “Tommy, if I bring you up there, you have to promise that you won’t immediately throw yourself off once I’m gone.”

Tommy puts his hands behind his back and nods sincerely. “I won’t, I swear!”

“Uh-huh.” Phil deadpans. “Show me your hands.”

Tommy’s sincere look turns into a sheepish pout. Phil sighs.

“Promise me without crossing your fingers or I take Bad and Floof up first.”

Bad squeaks at his name suddenly being mentioned in their argument. Tommy rolls his eyes like a premature teenager and holds out his clawed hands, palms up and fingers uncrossed. “Fucking fineeee. I won’t jump off the moment you leave.”

Phil scoops his fledgling up by his armpits, wings casting outwards as he prepares to shoot himself upward. Tommy goes limp in his arms like a ragdoll, a silly grin on his face as he soars through the air.

Wind roars around them as Phil touches down on the floating island, plopping

“Tommy—”

“I won’t!” The boy reassures, sounding annoyed.

“Alright.” Phil concedes as he backs up to the edge. “I’m trusting you here.”

The kid waves him off and Phil takes that as his cue to drop off the edge of the floating island, feeling air rush past him as he free falls. He lets his wings snap open once his eyes meet the tree line, easily breaking his fall from a drop that would’ve been life-threatening. He lands with a firm thud, feeling the shock of the landing reverberating through his legs.

Phil sends another suspicious glance up at Tommy once he touches down. Thankfully, the little fledging hadn’t thrown himself down towards the earth again, but Phil didn’t trust him not to give in to temptation eventually. It’s with little urgency that he turns to Bad and spreads his arms out.

“Come on, mate.”

Floof immediately jumps into his arms, tail wagging a million miles an hour. Meanwhile, Bad shuffles back, fear flickering in his blank eyes.

“Uhm, are you sure? I could probably just take the ladder...”

Phil looks over to the ladder set up in the far side of the floating island, watching that rickety little thing sway and jerk in the wind. He doesn’t let any of the children use that ladder, the risks of falling off being much too great. That goes for the little imp as well.

He turns back to Bad, his smile turning tight.

“I’m sure. I promise I won’t drop you, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

The demon hesitates before nodding with a small sound of approval. Phil wastes no time in gathering the smaller being into his arms, standing upright. Bad clings to his middle with white knuckles, claws poking through the fabric of his shirt. It probably doesn’t help that Floof all but squirms to get out of his arms while in the air, determined to fall to his death for some reason.

As soon as they touch down on the island, Bad stumbles away from him on wobbly legs, looking vaguely sick. Tommy laughs at him outright.

Floof immediately takes his chance to try and jump off the island, because why wouldn’t he.

Tommy catches him swiftly, using both arms to forcibly pull him away from the edge. Meanwhile, Phil steadies the Bad with a hand. “You alright, mate?”

Bad hums, a little warbly thing as he takes in the floating island and the wooden structure laid atop of it. “What is that?”

Tommy lights up like the sun, a squirming Floof still trapped underneath his arm.

“The Pube!”

“The Pub.” Phil corrects, feeling way too tired for this. He opens the door for the kids to rush through, following in after them. “This is the Pub, and it’s the main center for hybrids to hang out. It also has an inn upstairs, so that’s where you’ll be staying for now.”

Bad nods with wide eyes, jaw dropping the tiniest bit as he looks around the inside of the Pub. Warm lighting coats everything except for the open balcony, where natural lighting shines through. An array of various different seats lay spread around tables, each varying in shape and size for accessibility. Meanwhile, Tommy makes a beeline to the bar nestled in the corner, Floof trotting eagerly after him.

Phil huffs and shakes out his wings, eyes peeled for a certain galaxy-speckled Starborne.

“Is that Philza fucking Minecraft I hear?” A bald metallic head pops through the door to the kitchen, face lighting up like a firework. “It is! Phil!!”

“Jack!” Tommy squeals, running up to the counter and climbing up on a stool. His wings flap happily behind him as he attempts to get closer to the Blazeborne. Bad, on the other hand, shrinks back into Phil’s wings, hunching over slightly.

Floof immediately bombards the man in yips and barks, paws scrambling at the bar stools for purchase.

Jack gasps dramatically and throws out his hands for the little avian.“Tommy!! What’s going on, big man? I thought you guys weren’t due for Migration for another three weeks!”

The Blazeborne full-body bends over the counter in order to pet Floof, a very awkward sight until Floof lets up his pleas for attention. After another moment, the dog wanders off, little nose snuffing and searching for anything new in the Pub. Jack sets himself upright again as they watch the dog ricochet up the stairs, likely to go investigate Phil’s nest. He fixes Phil with a prodding look once the distraction is gone, pressing him on an answer.

“Something came up.” Phil says, trying his hardest to smooth out his bristled feathers. “Where’s Scott at?”

The Blaze tilts his head in thought, idly taking a rag to wipe down a cup. “He said he felt an anomaly pass through the veil, but if it’s just you guys I don’t know why he was so worried.” Fiery sparks fizzle from the top of his head as he sets the cup down and leans forward, palms pressed against the counter. “Now, what can I get for you fellas?”

“Beer, please!”

“Tommy—” Phil sighs, reigning in his temper. He’s at the end of his wire and he needs Scott here before he blows up. “No, we need Scott. It’s urgent.”

Jack straightens at whatever face he pulls, lips pulling taut. “That bad? Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No— I mean...” Phil sighs, chest tight with tension. “My son has been kidnapped by hunters.”

Jack stiffens for a moment, flames igniting themselves in top of his head. Before smoke can fill the building, the Blaze pauses, looking down to Tommy.

“But Tommy is right there..?”

Phil shakes his head, feeling Bad press closer to him. “Not him, my eldest son.”

Jack looks gobsmacked.

“Since when did you have two sons??”

“I’ve always had two sons.” Phil answers simply.

The Blazeborne shakes his head in confusion, but ultimately shrugs it off. “Goddamn. Okay, I’ll message him right now. Did you switch out your communicator yet?”

“Not yet. I was hoping we could hold off on that for now—”

A burst of glitter in the center of the room interrupts Phil’s sentence, coating every person and object near in a thin, iridescent powder. The air coughs as a person materializes out of the glitter, creating matter when there once was not. The glow of the galaxy is threaded in every strand of his being, starry freckles highlight his cheeks and nose.

The Starborne steps into the Pub with determination, looking straight at Phil, an accusatory glint in his eyes.

“Scott, not in my Pub!” Jack interiors the tense moment and wipes glitter off of his metallic face, grimacing when it gets on his hands instead. “Not in the sanctity of the Pube!”

Scott shrugs. “I can’t exactly help it.”

“It’s literally getting fucking everywhere, mate.” Jack groans, going to grab a rag to wipe the glitter off of the counter. Meanwhile, Tommy waves to the Starborne.

“Hello, Scott Smajor.”

Scott raises an eyebrow at the little avian. “Hello, Tommy.” He then turns to Phil, that accusatory glint back in his eyes. “Phil.”

“Hi, mate.”

The Starborne crosses his arms. “Do you wanna explain why you’re here so early without warning? With an anomaly crossing through the veil with you?”

Phil’s wings come to hide Bad tighter. against him. “I don’t know what you mean.

Scott’s eyes narrow at the demon huddled underneath his wings. “No, I think you do, actually. Care to come out and introduce yourself?”

A little “eep!” comes from the avian’s wings, which makes Phil curse underneath his breath. Scott pins him with a look until he finally lifts them, revealing Bad’s cowering form hidden underneath his feathery plumage, crouched down to his knees with his tail wrapped around Phil’s ankle. Before Scott can say anything, Phil interrupts him.

“He’s with me.”

Scott drags his eyes away from the demon to look at Phil. “A message of warning would be nice next time.”

Phil sighs, shoulders slumping. “Noted.”

Bad twitches as Scott looks back down at the demon, watching him closely. His gaze then snaps to Phil once more, a plethora of questions in his eyes.

Phil sighs, instincts grating on him as he turns to Tommy, who has been gathering glitter from the ground into his palms. “Tommy, why don’t you go show Bad around the Pub?“

The little avian practically lights up at the idea, immediately going to dust his glittery hands off on his pants. Phil cringes internally at the action, knowing that the garment might as well be ruined now.

The blonde reaches for Bad’s hand, only transferring the glitter further. “Come on, I can show you your room and we can look at the balcony!”

“No jumping off.” Phil immediately interjects, chuckling as Tommy deflates.

“Killjoy.” The boy murmurs. He tugs on the demon’s hand again. “Come on Bad, let’s get away from these dick’eads.”

“Ah— LANGUAGE!!”

As soon as the duo disappear up the stairs with a skip to their step, Phil sighs and collapses into the nearest stool, feeling his nerves connect in the middle of his back. “Fucking hell.”

The Starborne nods at his lackluster statement in complete understanding, wiping a bit of starry dust off his shoulder. “It’s good to see you back, Phil, but winter is still a while away— any particular reason why you’re here?”

Jack interrupts before Phil can begin to explain.

“Phil’s here because—”

“I’m here because my son has been taken from me.” Phil interrupts, absolutely brimming with irritation he knows is irrational for the situation. He just wants everyone to get on the same page so he can hurry and find his fucking son.

He watches as Scott very pointedly glances at the stairs that Tommy and Bad had taken just moments prior. Phil stifles another sigh.

“His name is Techno.” Phil’s heart aches at the thought of his son, instincts crying out. “He’s a bat-hybrid— just randomly showed up in a cave near the treehouse. Tommy befriended him and now he’s ours. He’s about eleven or twelve, I think, I never asked.” His breath is too thin, hands a bit too shaky for his behavior to pass off as normal. “And he was taken from us by hunters. I found their traps— I thought that we were located far away enough, but I guess not—”

“Phil— Phil, calm.” Jack all but shoves a glass of ale in his direction, frowning when Phil refuses to touch it.

The avian sags against the counter, wings drawn up to his ears, his heart finally crumbling.

“Fuck.”

It’s a shaky little thing, pathetic and warbling in nature.

Someone’s hand is placed on his back in what he assumes to be an attempt at comfort. Judging by the lack of heat accompanying the hand, he assumes it belongs to Scott, who places himself on the stool next to him. Phil watches the galaxies shift on Scott’s porcelain skin, feeling a shiver go down his spine. He almost misses the way the Starborne and the Blazeborne look at each other, a silent conversation passing through their eyes.

“We’ll help you find him.”

The avian shudders with his emotions. He presses the heels of his palms to his eyes, ignoring the heat that spikes in his head and the black spots that cloud his vision. He knew they would jump at the chance to help him, but a warble of relief falls from him regardless. He extracts his hands from  his eyes and tries for a smile.

“I’d really appreciate that, mate.”

“Of course, Phil.” Scott pats his back once more before removing it completely. “Any idea of where they could’ve taken him?”

“Not really. They could’ve taken him anywhere.” Phil bristles, a thought coming to mind. “There was a man who seemed to recognize Techno before he was taken. He was antagonizing him for being a ‘vampire.’”

Scott’s eyes darken. “By your treehouse?”

“In the village nearby, yes.” Phil confirms.

“Then that’s where we need to go.”

Without Tommy or Floof to worry about, the flight back to the village is a lot quicker. Phil dives and slips through the clouds, water trailing off his wings from every cloud he dips into. What is usually a two day trip by foot, Phil crosses in under an hour on his wings.

By the time he sees the familiar treehouse and the accompanying village by association, Phil’s wings have barely been stressed by the flight. He touches down on the outskirts of the village, quickly making sure his entrance wasn’t noticed. Luckily for him, in the early hours of the morning not many people are eager to leave their beds.

Phil takes out his communicator—Origins specific, to make sure no human could possibly hijack their way into them— and casually strolls into the nearest alleyway to contact Scott. Normally, when traveling with Scott, they would just teleport, but the Starborne didn’t know the exact location of the village. It would’ve been safer to let Phil fly first, and then let Scott teleport to the coordinates.

After he sends the message to Scott, the Starborne materializes next to him in an array of sparkles meshing together. Scott shakes himself out, glitter from the teleportation trickling to the ground. Phil is glad he chose the alleyway for him to materialize in and not the middle of the town. The abundance of glitter would’ve been a dead giveaway to his presence, even if the humans believed the Starborne race to be a myth.

“I hate that part.”

“You say that every time.”

“It’s true.”

While Phil coughs up the cloud of glitter, Scott looks around the corner and surveys the town, eyes squinting.

“Why is there garlic on all the doors?”

Phil scoffs, brushing the last bits of glitter from his pants. “Don’t get me started.”

“Who are we looking for anyway?” Scott asks, peering his head around the corner of the alleyway.

“Some human. He’s pretty big, so we’ll probably be able to spot him easily—”

His breath hitches at a very noticeable figure entering the town square, watching them pick up a wooden basket and begin to shop at the stalls in the marketplace. He feels his vision go red.

(murder-murder-murder)

Phil remembers the day he had met the man clearly, remembering how he loomed over Phil with sharp eyes trained on his son, hatred in his face. He remembers how Techno shook in the face of such a man, practically using the elder avian as a shield. He remembers defending his son to the best of his ability, being loud and defensive to garner attention and embarrass the human harassing his son, and luckily for him, it worked.

Seeing Phil’s deadly gaze, Scott tracks it until it lands on a man in his mid-forties with sunburnt skin and a choppy, greying beard. “That’s him?”

“That’s him.” Phil confirms, watching the man who had frightened Techno so long ago go about his merry way. Oh, how Phil wanted to rip the man’s eyes out for looking so jolly, especially after what he did. He didn’t have the right to a good morning after threatening Phil’s kid the way he did. He shouldn’t have the right to air after terrifying Techno so badly.

“Phil, calm down.” Scott’s accented voice breaks through the bloodlust clawing at Phil’s vision. “Focus on the task at hand.”

The blonde shakes his head, breathing deeply. “Right. What now, mate?”

“We wait for an opportunity to take him.”

And so they do. It feels like hours as they wait in the darkness of the alleyway, otherworldly eyes piercing through the inky shadows to lock onto their target. They watch as the man goes from stall to stall, carelessly buying items with the money in his coin pocket. For a moment, Phil thinks that they’ll never get their opportunity to strike until the man unknowingly passes by their hiding spot, crossing the street without a care of who was watching.

“Now.”

It’s all too easy to pull him into the alleyway, pulling him by the loop of his belt and quickly covering the yelp that threatens to come out of his mouth. The momentum nearly throws him back into Phil and Scott, but they quickly steady the man, forcing him into a pin.

The human struggles, as all beings tend to do when stuck between a rock and a hard place. Phil takes this as his chance to let of some of his pent up rage and hits him on the back of his head with his communicator.

The human physically stutters, a groan tumbling from his lips before he drops to the ground.

With the man knocked out on the ground, Phil looks up at Scott. “How do you want to go about this, mate?”

Scott sighs. “Just… I don’t know— prop him over my shoulder, I guess? Both of you need to have contact with me, so you should grab my arm.”

Phil lugs the man into his arms, wings flaring at the sudden influx of weight. “Jesus fuck—” He stumbles, eyes going wide.

Scott stifles a laugh into his fist. “You need some help?”

“Nah, mate,” Phil throws the human over the Starborne’s shoulder before he can protest, watching in amusement as Scott’s knees buckle. “You got this.”

“Phil.” The Starborne nearly drops to his knees. Phil doesn’t bother stifling his laugh. “Alright, just hurry up.”

Phil cackles but sets a hand on the Starborne’s arm, closing his eyes and allowing the teleportation to take place.

When Phil opens his eyes again, he comes to see that he— and the human, hilariously enough— are covered in powdery glitter. Scott unceremoniously drops the burly human to the ground as Phil spits glitter out of his mouth for the second time that day.

“I hate that part.”

“I know, Phil.”

Phil sighs with a ruffle to his wings, shaking glitter off the appendages. He can already feel the glitter lodge themself in the little nooks and crannies of his feathers, already knowing that there would be a long preening session tonight. Looking around, however, Phil realizes that they’re not in the Pube— they’re at his own base.

Glitter is all over his shit now.

Phil takes a controlled breath in. “Scott.”

The Starborne looks at him innocently. “Yes, Phil?”

“Why are we at my base.”

“Because it’s the closest I can get to the area I set up for him.” Scott toes the human’s body with his foot. “And other people like him.”

At that, Phil raises a brow. “You wanna elaborate?”

Scott hums under his breath. “No. Let’s get this guy to the area I set up before he wakes up.”

‘The area’ just so happened to be directly underneath Phil’s base— a funny little detail that Scott forgot to mention— buried directly into the snowy mountain.

Transporting the human was easier than expected. All they really had to do was kick the man off Phil’s balcony, letting the snow cushion his fall. Then Phil took the liberty of pushing the man’s burly body down the stairs to Scott’s “torture chamber—” to which Scott immediately refused the name.

“You’re the one who built a torture chamber underneath my house, mate.”

When they finally reach the bottom of the stairs, they bind the man up in thick rope, tying every limb securely to his chair. Phil ties the rope just a little bit tighter than necessary, enough so that the man’s skin reddens with abrasions. After all, he wouldn’t want the aggressive human to escape somehow and run amok in the midst of Origins.

After dumping some snow down the back of his shirt to help him wake up quicker, Scott and Phil take their leave— he doesn’t know about Scott, but he definitely doesn’t want to be there when the human wakes up. They tend to scream a lot, and Phil’s hybrid type tends to have sensitive ears.

Returning up to the surface, Phil shakes off any remainders of snow from his wings, feeling a chill from the mountainside breeze wash over him. The whistling wind is almost enough to drown out the sounds of the human waking up— Phil can just barely hear the enraged shouts and screeching come from below them.

One amused look at Scott, and he can immediately tell that he hears the same thing.

“That didn’t take long at all.”

“We stuffed snow down his shirt, mate— I doubt he would’ve stayed asleep for much longer.”

Scott laughs at that, his laugh sounding distinctly like twinkling stars. Phil huffs and cracks his knuckles, eager to rip into the human.

“Should we wait for him to calm down, or can we go and interrogate him already?”

Scott opens his mouth to reply, only to be interrupted by a voice carried by the wind.

“Phil!?”

Bad’s voice catches the tail end of Phil’s hearing, his feathered ears twitching. Then again— closer this time.

“Phil!??”

“Bad!” Phil calls out to the demon, watching him wander around the snowy mountain.

The demon perks at his voice, head whipping up to make eye contact with both Phil and Scott. In a matter of moments he’s tromping through the snow over to the duo, sending flurries of powdery white every which way.

“What are you doing here?” Scott asks as soon as the imp is in arms distance.

“Is this—” Bad pants and gasps, out of breath. They are on a mountain, after all— the air is thinner up here. “Is this where you’re keeping the guy?”

Phil’s heart skips a beat. He quickly shares a look with an equally as panicked Scott, before looking down to Bad again. “The guy?”

“The guy that kidnapped Techno.”

“Who told you?” Scott squints, stepping forward to stare down the demon.

“Jack.” Bad utters simply, staying rooted in place. “Can I see him now?”

Phil has to hold in an exhausted scream, because of course Jack would go blabbing about their current hostage to a bunch of children. Speaking of children—

“Where’s Tommy?” Phil asks, suddenly straightening to look for a dot of red amongst the snow. Tommy is still too young to be in such cold temperatures by himself, which is part of the reason they need to migrate every year. With Phil’s protection, he can stand the cold long enough to play in the snow, but without it…—

“He’s in your nest thing. With Floof. Back at the Pub.” Bad says, and Phil deflates immediately. “Jack told only me. Can I talk to the human? Please?”

Phil is about to spit out a ‘no,’ when Scott beats him to it. “I don’t see why not.”

Bad’s face sets into steely determination while Phil openly gapes at the Starborne.

“Scott, mate, what the hell.” He hisses to the Starborne, “You know as well as I do that we aren’t planning on fuckin’ talking to him—”

Scott has the audacity to roll his eyes. “Obviously. Bad won’t be doing any of… that. I just think that it would heftily improve his mana if he scared him a bit. Mischief helps, but he’s still underneath the minimum for what a demon his age should be like. This would be a good opportunity for him.”

“That man deserves it for what he did to Techno.” Bad hisses out, claws sharpening with the furrow of his brows. “At least let me scare him a bit, Phil.”

Despite their less-than-pleasant first meeting, Scott had quickly taken the imp underneath his wing in teaching him about his physiology and capabilities as a demon, which included his mana intake. According to Scott, the demon had been basically starving without it, his horns way too short for his age and his teeth and claws not sharp enough to defend himself against enemies.

For demons, growing one’s mana requires mischief— harmless pranks, banter, arguing, childish misdemeanors— but a fast way to accelerate the growth of mana is to witness or cause something truly evil.

Demons’ affinity to grow their mana in the more extreme ways is probably the reason why their reputation precedes them, and partly why they’re hunted and exorcised.

Phil thinks it over, knowing that Scott would know best. While he doesn’t want a child to go anywhere near the hunter… it could help.

“If you come down with us, you need to leave right after you scare him. That should give you enough mana for a while.”

The demon nods, giving the both of them a little fanged grin.

He feels dread stir in his gut. This is completely against any parental instinct he’s ever had, but Bad isn’t exactly a normal kid. Demons need mana or they’ll quite literally starve— and Bad was apparently in bad shape when they found him. This needs to happen.

“Stay close to either me or Scott.” He says sternly. “And don’t get close to him. Humans are dangerous when they’re unpredictable.”

Bad nods more seriously this time, following after them as Phil goes for the stairs. Scott takes up the rear, leaving Phil to lead them down to the human bound in chains.

The air grows damp the further they travel, clean wood fading into cool brick with every rickety step. The avian feels Bad’s claws tighten on his robes, the air thick with tension. When they reach the bottom, Phil is hit with the overwhelming scent of body odor and urine— a smell that distinctly makes him scrunch up his nose.

Did he seriously piss himself? Gross.

The human glowers at them as soon as they reach the bottom of the steps, chest heaving and red faced from how hard he must’ve been thrashing. Limbs bound in thick ropes, leaving rope burn against delicate human skin. The skin around his wrists and ankles bleed vermillion from how tight they had tied it, and the bloodshed scratches an itch in the back of Phil’s mind— happy to watch the man who took his son from him suffer.

Phil feels Bad’s grip on his robes tighten, shadowing behind him despite his shaking grip. The whites of his eyes narrow with his glare— a deadly look the avian has never seen before. His horns sharpen just the tiniest bit, face as sorts of wrinkled with his glare.

The human goes abruptly still, eyes nearly popping out of his head as he notices the little demon. A shuddering breath escapes him, and Bad’s horns grow just a bit sharper at the expression of fear.

“Wh— What—” He splutters, eyes flicking from Bad, to Scott, then to Phil— to which his eyes widen more than they had before. Recognition sparked in his eye before terror washed it away, stuttering out a simple— “You.”

“Me.” Phil confirms, glowering down at the pathetic excuse of a man.

“So there’s multiple of you’s, huh?” Whatever terrified look he had was quickly hidden away as he glares up at Phil, addressing his next words to him. “I should’ve known you weren’t a human.”

A hiss rattles up Phil’s throat. “You should’ve known not to pick on a child.”

“A child?” A scoff, spit flying at Phil’s shoes. Gross. “It was a monster. Those fangs could’ve skewered anybody alive— suck the life out of them like a fuckin’ juice pack.”

“He wasn’t a monster, or a vampire, or anything else you’re thinking of.” Phil growls out. “He was a fucking bat-hybrid, and he was innocent.”

The man only laughs. “Oh, I’m well aware.”

“Then why—”

“Ain’t it fuckin obvious? A monster is a monster no matter what skin they wear.” His eyes glint as he tilts his head, looking around Phil to sneer at Bad. “And with the folks already panicking, it was far too easy to slip a little white lie into the mix. Not like there’s much of a difference between a bat and a vamp.”

“Shut up. Where the hell is Techno.”

“Y’see, you got me runnin’ a blank there. I’ve never heard that name in my life.” The human grins, leaning back in his bindings casually.

Phil’s hand shoots out to grab the man by his hair, yanking him towards him with little warning. Scott’s little hum of disapproval goes unanswered as the human grunts in pain.

“You know who I’m talking about. Stop dragging this out.”

“Yeah, I do.” The man spits out, hatred gleaming in his eye. “The little bitch was always there, stealing from us and terrifying’ the people. T’was a good thing I got rid of ‘im, maybe the hunters can find some sort of use in that little bloodsucker—”

Phil clawed thumbs press into the human’s fleshy eyes within a moments notice, relishing in the scream the pathetic being lets out. His eyeballs water and squish underneath his thumbs, so he digs his nails in deeper.

“FUCK—” The man screams.

Bad’s horns grow and sharpen at the display of violence, looking somehow both mortified and intrigued at the same time. Scott quickly takes control of the situation, ushering the demon up the stairs.

“That’s enough, Bad, I think you’ll be good for a while.” The Starborne says hurriedly, but Phil can barely hear it as he claws into the human’s eyes. His screams and panicked pleas cut through the air like a knife, making the avian grin as he extracts his claws from the human’s face.

Then it’s just him and the human— the reason Techno is missing.

With the reassurance that Bad is somewhere far away, Phil rakes his claws down the man’s face, bloody ribbons streaming down his face. The man’s screams get more guttural, his fighting turning into rough jerking and pleading.

The door opens again, and Scott steps through, face blank and void of a certain little imp at his side. “Phil.”

“What?” The avian groans, flicking sinew off his claws. The man’s eyes are shredded, pressed too far back into his brain to be comfortable. His screams have petered off into groans of agony.

“Make sure he stays alive.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“Phil.”

“Fine, I will.” Phil presses the heel of his palm into the human’s nose until he hears a wet pop. Another guttural cry, to which he ignores. “Will you be coming back?”

Scott tilts his head, looking over the human. “Yeah, once you’re done. I don’t trust you to do a good bandaging him up.”

Honestly, fair assumption. Phil knows that in order to get the information they need, the human had to be alive. But gods, his instincts loathe to do so, begging him to slash the man into little pathetic ribbons.

The human breathes shallowly through it all, mouth open, eyes firmly closed. Phil turns back to Scott with a nod. “Got it, mate.”

Scott nods back, a flicker of amusement in his galactic eyes as he looks at Phil’s hands, covered in the human’s blood. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

And then he’s gone in another shower of sparkles, and Phil is alone with his victim.

He surges forward to yank the man from his chains, intent on getting some answers.

“Tell me where he is.”

“I— don’t know.” The man gasps, heaving through the blood bubbling out of his nose.

“Liar.” Another hit. “Where is he?”

“You really think I’d tell you?” He sneers, eyes shut tightly and already beginning to leak with infection.

Phil flips the knife and stabs it cleanly through the meat of his thigh, eliciting another scream. “Now do you feel motivated to tell me at all, mate?”

“Fuck off.” The human gargles out, hands twitching with pain.

“That’s fine.” The feathers on Phil’s back bristled despite his calm words. “I have plenty of time to convince you.”

A bluff, one that he hopes will work. He will pry and pull apart this human as much as he needs to in order to get his answers, no matter how stubborn he is. But—

He jerks the knife downward, a bit too tough for just regular torture. He doesn’t have time to play around, but with Techno’s life on the line. Phil can wait, but Techno can’t.

He will break this human.

One month. That’s how long Techno had been missing for. That’s how long they’ve been searching. That’s how long Techno has been within the claws of his captors, subject to their mercy. And if Phil knew humans well enough, he knew they didn’t often give it. Not to people like them, not to their own kind.

It takes nine days for the man to break, and by the end of it he’s so disfigured that he can hardly be called a man. At the beginning of the tenth day, the human crumbles, finally spitting out where Techno is being held.

It only takes seconds to dispose of him afterwards.

(murder-murder-murder)

“He’s in a fucking fighting ring.” Phil spits, brimming with vitriol. His wings are puffed out as he paces the Pub, trembling with the will to hold himself back. His pupils are so slitted that he can barely focus, vision tunneled and red.

Of the people gathered in the Pub, they have Aimsey, who is free to let themself be corporal with the safety of a roof over their head, Sneegsnag, who sits on Scott’s shoulder, Niki, who is submerged in her cauldron, keeping her hydrated, and Jack, who idly nurses a beer as he listens.

“Shit.” Scott murmurs, hands clutched tight together.

“Which one?” Jack asks, pouring a water breathing brew for Niki to sip on. The Merling takes it, hesitantly sipping on it with a troubled expression.

The kids had been put to bed an hour ago, safely away from the tension in the lobby of the Pub. The adult members of Origins were either safely asleep in their own homes or gathered in the Pub, intent on saving Phil’s kid.

Admittedly, more people had gathered than he thought would— he had expected the efforts of saving Techno to be just himself and one or two others. But no— several people showed up to support him, even if they couldn’t directly help. He wouldn’t have blamed them if they decided to sit out, especially with their pasts with humans and hunters alike, but he appreciates it, so much.

“Phil.” Jack calls again, and the avian stops his agitated pacing to glare over at the Blazeborne. “Which fighting ring?”

Phil sighs and directs his goat to the ground, knowing that his friend didn’t deserve to have it aimed at him.

“The Pit.”

Aimsey stifles a sharp gasp, green eyes going wide. “The Pit?”

“Well, shit.” Sneeg comments from his perch on Scott’s shoulder.

“Oh, Phil…” Scott says with a wince. “Of all places—”

“I KNOW!” Phil seethes, pacing with such fury that his talons begin to create grooves against the hardwood floor. No one says anything about it. “I should’ve known— I should have fucking known. We shouldn’t have had ignored their influence for so long, everyone knows Hypixel is a discriminatory piece of shit for a city—”

“Phil.” Niki’s voice is sad. “What if he’s not…”

“He’s alive, he has to be.” Phil bristles, chest tight with the angry bird that wants to come out and destroy everyone. “Because if he’s not…”

Silence.

He sees the way his friends tense, tension coiled tightly in the room. Phil’s teeth grind together as they visibly give each other dark glances, fingers curling and brows furrowing.

They’re just as angry about this as he is.

(fledgling-chick-missing)

“He’s alive.” Phil says with confidence.

“Alright, Phil.” Sneeg wisely decides to agree with him. “So what’s our game plan here?”

“Bomb the shit out of them.”

“Wh— Phil!”

“What?” Phil scoffs, wings trembling with anger. “They took my fledgling, they deserve a fate worse than death.”

“And I promise they will get one.” Scott admonishes, placing a hesitant star speckled hand on the avian’s shoulder. “But we can’t just go in guns blazing. We need an actual plan so that we can be safe and so that the people we’re rescuing can be safe.”

Phil reigns in his temper. Scott is right, he can’t let anger guide his actions… yet. “Do you have any ideas?”

Scott hums, a warbling thing that makes Phil’s mind fuzzy and shoulders drop from their tense state.

“We’ll need as much help as we can get.” The Starborne admits, looking at every individual face in the room. “If any of you want to back out and stay safe, this is your chance to voice it.”

Phil holds his breath. The group of hybrids glance at each other, not a single sound leaving the room.

Scott nods in determination. “Okay, that’s it then. Everyone here will be involved in some way.” The Starborne clears his throat. “Phil and Sneeg can go in and look for Techno. I’m expecting you guys to free anyone you find. Aimsey, you’re on scouting duty. Look for any hidden rooms or basements they could be keeping people in.”

“Got it!” Aimsey crows, giving a ghostly thumbs-up in Scott’s direction.

“How do you guys feel about me being on crowd control?” Scott asks, almost sheepishly. “A lot of the humans will turn out aggressive, and it’s likely that they’ll try to hurt any hybrid that manages to get out.”

“That’s a big job, you need help with it?” Jack asks.

Scott nods. “I would appreciate it very much.”

“I wish I could join.” Niki says, wiggling in the pool made for accessibility for merfolk specifically. “But I feel like I’d just slow you guys down, no matter how many brews I bring.”

“We’ll probably need your support from here.” Aimsey says, head tilted. “Who knows how many hybrids they have trapped there. We’ll need to set up asylum for them, and a place to treat the injured.”

Niki nods, suddenly looking a lot more determined. Her gills flare at the motion. “I can do that.”

“We’re offering asylum?” The Jack asks in surprise, little flicks of fire sparking from his mechanical parts in surprise. The Blazeborne quickly backtracks. “I mean, not that it’s a bad thing if we do, but do we even have enough resources for that?”

“It depends on how many people are there and what their dependency is.” The Phantom replies. “It’s likely that a lot of them will want to reunite with family and such, and those who do come here will only be looking for a way to get back on their feet. We can make resources stretch for the time being.”

Scott nods. “I trust your judgment. We’ll be able to house some people permanently if needed.”

“Are we good, then? Everyone knows what they’re doing?”

Phil nods, a fire of determination stirring in his heart. “All set. Tomorrow morning, we strike.”

“I’m coming with.”

Phil’s neck nearly snaps as his eyes shoot toward the sound of the voice, finding Bad standing at the bottom of the stairs. Just behind him is Tommy on all fours, his cow stuffie held close to his chest.

“Wh— how long have you been there?!”

“Long enough.” Bad replies, arms crossed over his chest.

“We’re coming with to get Techno!” Tommy crows, a determined pout to his face even as his hair is muddled from sleep.

Phil’s wings bristle at the very idea. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?!” Tommy cries, strangling his plushie to his chest. “I want him back! I miss him so fucking much!”

“Language.” Bad hisses, nudging the child with his elbow.

Phil sighs, a headache pulsing through his temples. “Tommy, you’re a child.”

“But—”

“No buts.” His wings brush against the ground as he squats down to Tommy’s level, face filled with stern lines. He feels so much older than he actually is, having to scold his child like this. “This mission is going to be extremely dangerous. You and Bad need to stay here to ensure your safety.”

Tommy, stubborn, sweet, determined Tommy, only pouts up at him, tears filling his baby blue eyes. He knows what he’s doing— he sees all the strings he’s pulling on Phil’s instincts. “I want to come, please?”

(cute-baby-safe)

(nestling-nestling-nestling)

Phil has to take a deep breath in order to fight the instincts wanting to drown him.

That little shit.

“Tommy, the answer is no. Go back to the nest.”

The little bird huffs and puffs, so much anger boiling in his little body before it explodes in a series of angry chirps— chirps that had Phil’s head screaming (comfort-nestling-sad). He winces as Tommy storms off, kicking open the door to the pub and jumping off the floating island.

The little imp looks vaguely shocked at Tommy’s behavior, looking between the swinging door and Phil.

“He just jumped off.”

“He’ll be fine, he has hollow bones.” Phil focuses back on Bad, narrowing his eyes at the demon. “Go back to bed, mate. Don’t try to fight me on this.”

“But—”

“Bad.”

The demon stays rooted in place, tail wound tightly around his leg despite the determination on his face. His clawed hand clench, teeth gritting.

“I want to come with you.”

The entire room seems to hold its breath, the other members of Origins shifting anxiously. Aimsey bravely steps into the spotlight with their hands held out placatingly. “You’re worried about Techno, aren’t you? It’ll be okay, we’ll get him out so fast you’ll barely be able to blink before he’s back again, I promise.”

The demon shakes his head, horns swinging. “No, I’m not worried about Techno— I mean—” He throws a worried glance at Phil. “I am, but I’m more concerned about Skeppy. I should come to get him, in case he’s there. I’m strong enough! I’ve been growing my mana. I’m not weak anymore!”

“You’re still a child!” Phil argues.

“How will you know who Skeppy is if I’m not there?” Bad snaps.

“Skeppy might not even be there.”

“But he could be. What if he’s there and you slaughter him because he looks like any other human?”

Phil scoffs, startled at the audacity of this demon. “Skeppy is also a child, isn’t he? If he’s there, we wouldn’t kill him because we don’t kill kids.”

A finger is pointed at him accusingly. “You almost killed me.”

Phil flinches back, feathered ears pressing back against his temples. He feels the wary gazes of his friends— who were watching the argument with hesitation and most likely awkwardness— snap to him.

Phil is quick to clear his name, sputtering. “That— that was an accident.”

Bad makes a look at him, throwing his hands out as if to say “you’re proving my point,” and Phil cringes on himself, but doesn’t back down.

“You’re not going.” Phil stands firm, and Bad practically implodes.

“HE WON’T TRUST YOU WITHOUT ME!”

The room goes silent in the aftermath of Bad’s snarl, heavy breaths filling the room. An entire group of adults rendered speechless by the actions and words of a preteen. The air crackles with tension, expressions serious and pulled taut.

Niki is the one to break the silence.

“What do you mean?” The Merling asks in a gentle voice, looking upon the demon curiously.

“What I mean is that Skeppy isn’t going to go with you willingly if you don’t bring me along.” Bad says, lips still curled in the makings of a snarl. “We lived on the streets before we were separated— he trusts no one, human or hybrid. Both have treated us badly. If I go with, he’ll be more willing to come with us.”

“And that is if he’s hypothetically there.” Scott reminds with a tilt of his head. “What if he isn’t?”

“Then he isn’t, and we keep looking.” The demon looks to Phil, and he feels a bone-chilling shiver run down his spine. “You promised.”

A twinge right down the middle of his heart. “Yeah, mate, I did promise.”

Phil sighs, feeling like such a shitty person— because if Bad comes with, he’ll see things that no child should ever have to see. He already feels like the world’s biggest asshole for agreeing to let Bad see the man who kidnapped Techno— and then was violent in front of him. But he makes a good point— the only person Skeppy would truly trust is Bad, given their circumstances.

“If we bring you with— if—” Phil corrects himself the moment Bad lights up like a Christmas tree. “You will need to stay close, within reach. You wouldn’t be doing any of the fighting, so don’t try to be a hero.”

The imp nods eagerly, a determined etch to his brow. “I can do that.”

Phil nods with equal determination. “Then— I guess you can come.”

“Phil, isn’t this child endangerment?” Jack interrupts with a worried flick of flames atop his head.

Bad spits out a “no” while Phil answers the question with disappointment— “Yes, it is— but I don’t think we have much of a choice.”

Bad beams, showing off sharp fangs.

Phil doesn’t have to crouch down to Bad’s level like he did to Tommy, but he sets taloned hand on the demon’s shoulder anyway, squeezing enough to let him know that the was being deadly serious. “Bad. You will have to stick with Sneeg and I— you will not fight anyone, and if you need to, it must only be in self defense. You cannot run away, you need to be with us at all times. Do you understand?”

Bad’s sharp grin slips off his face as he nods along to Phil’s words, his own face reflecting Phil’s seriousness. “I understand.”

“Good. Tomorrow, then. Tomorrow, we strike.”

…

..

.

Phil stands in the shadows of the colosseum, watching as the children attempt to maul each other. A large pillar shadows his and his allies’ forms as they watch the fights play out, allowing Aimsey the time they need to begin scouting the place.

The trip had been long and dread-inducing. Scott couldn’t teleport them as none of them knew the exact coordinates to the Pit, only the general area. Teleporting wasn’t worth the risk of accidentally getting clipped through a wall or ending up in the middle of the arena.

The group had split up as soon as they entered. They knew the risks they were taking by going into an arena full of bloodthirsty humans— if any of them were caught, they might as well be dead.

Phil focuses back on the current fight happening, anxiously waiting the signal to start chopping heads off. Gods, that’s all he really wanted to do since Techno was kidnapped— he missed his boy.

Every single match was the same. Little hybrids lunging, desperate bodies and wide eyes, fear in every inch of their movements. The crowd is practically gathered up at the seams, watching and jeering, screaming at every little drop of blood that hits the ground. They’re ravenous with it, eyes full of greed as they scream at the hybrid (child) they betted on to fight harder, to go faster, to make the other child bleed more.

It’s sickening. A pit of rage opens in Phil’s stomach as he realizes that this is the environment Techno has been stuck in for so long. How many times has he had to fight other kids his age in order to survive? How many times was he hurt? How many times was his pain mocked and jeered at?

Phil has had enough of waiting around.

Once Scott gives the signal, he wastes no time. The avian descends upon the people like an Archangel on Judgement Day, ready to force these rotten people to atone for their sins.

And as the first scream rings out, the Angel of Death grins sharply.

His fledgling rests on his back, head pillowed right between his shoulder blades. His poor, poor fledgling, beaten and bruised within an inch of his life, littered with cuts and breaks.

Phil tries his hardest to keep his gait steady as he walks, making sure not to jostle the injured bat-hybrid from his slumber. His back aches, and as much as Tommy would’ve teased, he knows it’s not from his age. Regardless, Phil flexes his wings and wraps them as best as he can around his boy, creating a little bubble of darkness for the bat.

He can feel the blood of the slaughter drying on his skin.

Scott had teleported back to Origins already, likely preparing a spot to properly treat Techno’s wounds and warn the others of a new person. Aimsey and Sneegsnag had gone about freeing the hybrid children left, locating parents and siblings and finding where these kids had come from. Any hybrid without a family would be welcomed into Origins.

Phil stifles a sigh. From what he had seen in the Pit, Puffy is definitely about to have a lot of new patients.

He remembers the blood that splattered from the guards, the guts that spilled out of those humans’ midsections. He remembers the way the crowd dispersed as he swooped down on them, sword cutting arteries and spitting venom. They scattered like mice, screaming and crying, piling up together as they tried to squish their way through a door not wide enough to fit all of them.

It was hard to stifle the urge to completely eviscerate the humans, to (murder-murder-massacre), but Bad had already seen enough for a lifetime. Phil refused to add anything else to the growing pile of trauma on the boy’s shoulders.

It was all too easy to slip past the arena floor, slaughter anyone that got in his way, and make it down to the second level where the fighters were being kept.

Prisons and barred cages full of kids was the sight that greeted Phil’s horrified eyes. Hybrids of all shapes and sizes, teenagers with roughened faces and crooked bones, children with baby fat stubbornly clinging to their cheeks and wide, teary eyes, still shining with innocence. Because they didn’t have access to any keys, they had to utilize Sneeg, his inchling self being able to pick through each rusted lock like butter.

With every kid freed, with every distrustful glare and scared noise, Phil couldn’t help but wonder if Techno was even alive in a place like this. His heart tugged painfully at the flinches and growls of these hurt kids, and he knew that if they got Techno back at all, he wouldn’t be the same as when he had left.

As they searched the cells, they found Skeppy, Bad’s missing friend of all people, behind bars. Bad has been right— a fact the demon was quick to shove in his face— deservedly. And as if the plan couldn’t turn out more in their favor, Skeppy revealed that he knew Techno, was friends with him even.

Everything fell through when the human kid told them that Techno had been taken away for a fight hours before. He hadn’t come back yet.

Phil didn’t see Techno up in the arena.

He remembers truly seeing red, then— covered in guts and gore, hunting down any human that may have hurt his kid. Ceilings falling, walls crumbling by with the force of his blows. He was about ready to tear the place apart brick by fucking brick in order to find any trace of Techno.

And then Scott pulled him away, took the little demon and his human friend with him, and told him to sit out.

Whatever rage that was in his body was exemplified, and if he hadn’t had such superior control over his instincts he might have attacked the Starborne right then and there— that is, until Scott explained that Aimsey had found Technoblade.

Any and all anger immediately dissipated from his body, quickly being replaced by disbelief, and then joy, and then desperation.

(flock-flock-flock)

(where-fledgling-hurt)

(baby-baby-baby)

Scott had disappeared again but reappeared quickly in a shower of sparkles, this time with Sneeg on his shoulder and Bad and Skeppy holding each of his hands. The operation was almost complete— but Phil only wanted to hold his son in his arms again.

And in the next teleport, he was there. Disoriented and bleeding, leaning heavily on Aimsey, who had to go corporeal to support his weight— he was still there. His pink hair was darkened by blood and grease— Phil almost didn’t recognize him for a moment.

But, by the gods, Phil will never forget how his fledgling, his boy, his chick, crumpled into his arms, wailing a high-pitched note that could shatter the finest of glass. He will never forget the blood streaking down Techno’s face, the dullness of his eyes, and every new scar since he’s last laid eyes on him. Phil’s rage was instantly rejuvenated at the sight, but he shoved that side down in order to embrace his trembling fledging.

(flock-flock-flock)

(baby-mine-fledging)

It was even harder to keep that anger at bay while settling Techno’s injuries. Every broken cry had tears burning in his own eyes as they dabbed disinfectant of his fragile wings, torn and bloody. While Scott set his broken nose, Phil had to physically restrain himself by holding Techno close, trying to make the process as painless as possible.

The bat-hybrid still screamed. Fuck, Phil wasn’t going to be able to sleep after that.

Phil snaps back into the present to gingerly step over a fallen log, breathing deeply through his nose. He has Techno now— it’s over. The Pit is gone, left to rot under the rubble that now coats it. All Phil can do now is wait and control the aftermath.

Skeppy bravely steps up to Phil’s side and gently clasps his hand in Techno’s limp one, keeping Bad’s hand in his other one. The human’s eyes, so unnaturally blue, crinkle in concern.

Skeppy is good. Phil is glad that Techno wasn’t completely alone down there, glad that he had a friend to keep him from despairing.

Skeppy is a good human. Good humans are few and far in between, so they need to be cherished— held tightly. He just hopes the others will understand. Almost everyone in Origins has had bad blood with a human at some point, so a human no matter how young entering the commune will likely cause a shock.

He can’t imagine what the poor kid had gone through— scratch that, he can. The image of those two hybrids fighting with the desperation to live has been haunting him. Two children forced to hurt each other for survival— maybe even kill each other, had Phil and the others not stepped in. There was no way he could imagine the depths of hurt Skeppy and Techno experienced down in the Pit.

Techno was likely scarred mentally from whatever experiences he went through in the Pit, definitely traumatized. Healing would take a long time, both mentally and physically. There is no way of knowing how this has affected him until he wakes up again. No way of knowing how he’ll react to being free again, to being in Phil’s care again. They already had problems before with Techno’s flighty nature, but now…

Phil can only hope that they didn’t damage his boy for good.

The avian shakes his head. Bad way of thinking. Techno would always be Techno, no matter what burdens he may be carrying. There would be time for healing and opening up in the future, but for now, Phil will stay patient. He will be there for the bat-hybrid, in whatever way he needs him to be.

And when Techno decides to open up, to share what he went through?

Phil would be there with him.