Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rumi awoke to singing and a violin. 

The voice was raspy and androgynous, and faintly distorted at times. “Nothing’s gonna harm you, not while I’m around…nothing’s gonna harm you, no, sir, not while I’m around,” 

She spotted the source of the voice on a TV hanging from the wall. The person singing was pale, their dark brown hair curly and fluffy, one black horn barely peeking out of it. On their left hand was a black fingerless glove, and on their right middle finger there was a black ring. 

“Demons are prowling, everywhere, nowadays…I’ll send ‘em howling, I don’t care—I got ways,” 

Looking around, she realized that there were seven other people—all of them sleeping, except for three. A woman with wild grey hair and mismatched eyes, one arm missing, a boy with dark curly hair wearing jeans, sandals, and a pink letterman jacket, and a teenage girl with black rooted white hair, a slit-shaped scar at the center of her forehead, and pink-white lines running down from her eyes, who was clutching her head with one hand, the other stuffed in a pocket. 

“No one’s gonna hurt you, no one’s gonna dare…others can desert you——not to worry, whistle, I’ll be there,” 

“Oh, hey, you’re awake,” the boy said, peeking up. 

“Demons’ll charm you with a smile, for a while, but in time—nothing can harm you…not while I’m around…”

“Uh, hi?” The singer rubbed the back of her head, confused. “Where am I?” 

“No clue,” The woman shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine,” 

“Not to worry, not to worry, I may not be smart, but I ain’t dumb. I can do it, put me to it, show me something I can overcome,”

Rumi’s ears twitched as she heard someone stirring, and she glanced over to see a blond girl sit up and rub her eyes, yawning. Her eyes lingered on the scar on her cheek, taking note of it, but she quickly looked away. 

“Being close and being clever ain’t like being true. I don’t need to, I would never, hide a thing from you,”

“Huh,” the blond hummed, taking her jacket off and tying it around her waist, revealing hundreds of scars scattered across her arms. “Well, I’ve woken up to worse,”

“You were magically kidnapped,” Rumi drawled. “How has there been worse?” 

She was met with a shrug. 

The next to wake up was a man that seemed to be around the same age as the old woman, followed by a woman wearing a red hoodie. The only one still sleeping was a teenage girl with long orange hair, dressed in white clothes that looked vaguely like what a patient at a mental hospital would wear. 

The song, which had been playing quietly in the background, stopped, and Rumi looked at the screen. The figure was no longer holding a violin, instead slipping in a black and red leather jacket. Now that she was getting a good look at their face, she realized that the sclera of their left eye was black, and the grey in their left iris was lighter than the grey in their right. 

“Hello,” they said, putting their hands in their pockets. “Now that you’re all awake, we can begin,”

“Uh, that one’s still sleeping,” the old man pointed at the freckled girl, his voice gruff. 

“Well, yes, she is,” they nodded, “But she needs the sleep. Anyways, I’m Lion—no, that’s not actually my name, it’s a nickname—and you’re here because, essentially, you’re all fucked up. Think of this as…mandatory group therapy. Now that that’s out of the way, I have stuff to do—so, uh…I dunno, introduce yourselves? Name, pronouns, age, why you think you’re here? I—yeah, I don’t fuckin know, I’m shit at making friends,”

The screen glitched to black. 

Silence followed. 

“I guess I’ll go first? I’m Steven Universe, he/him, sixteen,” the curly haired boy said. “I inherited my mom’s war crimes at the age of thirteen and ended said war at fourteen?” 

“Eda Clawthorne, she/her,” that was the old woman. “My sister cursed me, and I watched my kind-of-daughter die in front of me. She’s fine now, though,” 

“Sasha,” the blond girl. “Fifteen, she/her and he/him, reformed asshole,” 

“Stan Pines, he/him,”

“I’m Jentry,” the white haired girl paused, wincing, and let out a low hiss, her eyes screwing shut for a moment. “Sixteen, she/her,” 

“Carmen, twenty-one, she/her, trans,” that was the one in red, now wrapped in several blankets, though still shivering. “Recently almost became a popsicle,”

Ah. That explained it.

They all turned to Rumi. 

“…I’m Rumi, also twenty-one, she/her…I’m actually also trans as well, so, uh…yeah,” 

Sasha nodded. “One of my partners is trans,” 

“One of?” Rumi raised a brow. 

“You got a problem with that?”

“No, no, of course not,” She raised her hands in a show of innocence. “That’d be hypocritical of me, seeing as I, too, have more than one partner,” 

“My nephew is trans,” a small smile appeared on Stan’s lips. “God, I can’t wait for him and Mabel to visit next summer,” 

After a moment of silence, Sasha asked, “So, what’s with the iridescent scars-slash-tattoos?” 

Rumi blinked. “They’re kind of—birth marks, I guess? I have them ‘cause I’m half demon,” she paused, then added, “…though, I guess they’re sort of layered with scars, too, from when I tried to carve them out. You?”

“War,” he answered flatly. Then, quietly, “And…myself,” 

The sleeping red-head shot up with a gasp, strands of hair falling down her face as she tried to catch her breath. Her green eyes darted around, wide, taking everything in. 

“…this isn’t the facility,” she whispered. 

“Nope,” Stan said, popping the p. “Welcome to magic trauma prison, you’ve been kidnapped,”

“Again??” She exclaimed, tossing her arms in the air. “Of course! Why not?? Not like I’m still with the last people that kidnapped me!” 

Her hands shook as she brought her knees up to her chest and hugged her legs. “Figures,”

“Hey, kid,” Eda knelt down to her level, voice soft. “This facility you mentioned—why are you there?” 

She laughed, the sound hollow and broken. “Because I’m sick,” she lifted her hands weakly to do air quotes around the last word. 

“…so, what’s your name?” Steven asked. 

“Ashlyn,” 

“Nice to meet you, Ashlyn, I’m Steven. That’s Stan, Eda, Jentry, Sasha, and Rumi,”

Sasha did jazz hands, and said in a deadpan voice, “Welcome to forced group therapy, we have memes and PTSD,”

Eda squinted at Stan. “Hang on a second, do I know you?”

He blinked. “Huh, come to think of it, you kinda look like my ex, Marilyn—”

They stared at each other.

”HOLY SHIT I MARRIED YOU—”

”YOU ALSO STOLE MY CAR!”

”IF IT MAKES YOU FEEL BETTER I DITCHED IT IN A RAVINE,”

”WHY THE FUCK WOULD THAT MAKE ME FEEL BETTER???”

Chapter Text

“Okay, so,” Sasha started. “Let me get this bi—”

“…what?”

“Bi. Y’know, since I’m not straight, I don’t need to get it straight,” 

Eda laughed. “I am so using that from now on,” 

“Feel free,” he grinned. “Consider it a gift from one disaster queer to another. Anyways—the two old people were married, and they’re both con artists?” 

“I’m not that old,” Eda grumbled, crossing her arms. 

The TV screen flickered, and Lion appeared, holding a mug with a pastel version of the transgender flag on it that said I am the found family trope.  

“Right, so, apparently I forgot, like, two people, but I’m only gonna add in one of them right now, because I feel tired just thinking about teleporting both of them,” they took a sip from their mug, then squinted at something off-screen. “Hey—hey, wait a second—stop lighting plants on fire, that’s my internal metaphor fake forest—!”

The screen fizzled out, and, in a flash of light, someone appeared in the sky and fell to the ground. 

“What the fuck,” came a muffled voice as the person sat up, long black hair falling over her shoulders. “Aw, shit, an introvert's worst nightmare— people,”

Ashlyn laughed. “That’s the most relatable thing anyone’s ever said,”

“Can’t relate,” Steven said proudly, placing a hand on his chest. “I have natural puppy energy,” 

“Damn,” Rumi deadpanned. “I’m stuck with being a wet cat. I even purr,”

Sasha blinked. “…you’re kidding,”

“God, I wish,”

“Anyways, who are you?”

“Oh, uh—I’m Marceline, the vampire queen. I’m also dating the ruler of a kingdom, but I dunno if that makes me their queen, too,” she paused, then added, “I was also adopted by the king of a different kingdom, so technically I’m also a princess?” 

“Woah…so you’re a queen, a princess, and you’re dating a monarch?”

“Yeah. Kinda weird, I know,”

“Nah,” Steven shook his head, grinning. “I’m a prince, and I technically own the planet Earth, so,”

“I’m sorry, you what?” 

“That’s too complicated to talk about right now,” Lion’s voice came. 

“How’s the, uh, internal metaphor forest?” Jentry asked, brow raised. 

“Mostly melted. But it’s just plastic, so,” they shrugged. “Anyways, no idea how I forgot Marceline, seeing as she’s a musical demon vampire bisexual with abandonment issues, but, y’know,”

“Hey, I’m working on that!”

Lion shrugged, and the screen turned off. 

“Okay, so, wait,” Sasha blinked. “We have a half-demon wet cat pop star, an old conman, an old witch conwoman, a spy popsicle, a slightly possessed teenager—”

“Would now be a good time to mention that I’m a cryptid, the holder of an emperor’s powers, an arsonist, and a human torch?”

“What the fuck??”

“Okay, a slightly possessed arsonist, the owner of planet Earth—”

“I’m also half-alien,”

“A half-alien owner of planet Earth, a destructive war criminal, and…?” He trailed off, looking at Ashlyn. 

“Uhhh…I can sense-slash-hear creepy ass smiley slender men?” 

“…yeah, I don’t even wanna know,” 

“They have their own dimension,”

“They—they what?”

“Have their own dimension. Which me and my friends-by-force-and-trauma-bonding go to. Every night. For seven hours,” 

“…elaborate, please??”

“Essentially, at midnight, we fall asleep and wake up in a different dimension. Injuries don’t pass over from there, but pain does—and apparently death doesn’t pass over, either,” she picked hairs from her white shirt while she talked. “That’s why I was kidnapped—the first time, old-fashioned way, not magic therapy kidnapping. They think we’ve been exposed to a fungus that’s turning us into phantoms—the creepy smiley guys,”

Nobody said anything. 

Well, until the TV speakers crackled. “Yeah, okay, so, I lied, apparently,”

“…the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“There’s actually four people that I forgot,”

“…wait, what—” 

“Yeah, my memory sucks, it’s whatever. Anyways, I’ll add one of them tomorrow, another one the next day, and the last one the day after that. Capiche? Great. I gotta go feed my cat, bye,” 

Silence. 

“Well,” Marceline started. “I am never gonna get used to that,”

“We’re gonna be here for more than one day??” Sasha exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air dramatically. “I have stuff to do! Partners to talk to! Dreams to dream! Nightmares to—I dunno, nightmare?” 

“I have two kids!” Eda yelled. “They’ll burn my house down!” 

“All I gotta do is force my girlfriend to get out of her lab and socialize every once in a while,” 

“Didn’t you say you’re an introvert?” 

Marceline nodded. “So is Bonnie. We suffer through social interactions together,” 

“Well, my schedule’s empty, so,” Ashlyn shrugged, resting her head in one hand, eyes fluttering shut before shooting open again. 

“…hey, Ashlyn, you know it’s not good to force yourself to stay awake, right?” Steven said gently. 

She nodded. “Yeah, I know…but it’s fine, I…” she trailed off, slumping against the wall. 

Eda’s lips ticked up a bit. She drew a golden circle in the air with her finger, and a blanket appeared, wrapping itself around the sleeping teenager. 

“Y’know, sleep sounds pretty good right now,” Stan commented. 

Jentry sat down on the floor. “I’m a natural heater, in case anyone’s cold,” 

Carmen immediately curled up next to her, followed by Steven, who draped his jacket over the thief’s shoulders. She smiled appreciatively at him, and he grinned back. Stan leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Mmmm…g’night, guys…” Steven murmured, eyes closed, already half asleep. 

Soon, only Marceline, Eda, and Sasha were left awake. 

“Soooo,” Sasha drawled. “Why aren’t you two sleeping?” 

“I’m a vampire and a demon,” Marceline said. “I’m naturally nocturnal,” 

“I’m an owl,” Eda shrugged. “I’m also nocturnal. You?” 

“Trust issues,” the blonde answered. “And sleeping has been…difficult, after—well, after everything,” 

“War?” Eda asked softly. 

Sasha nodded, tapping on her knee. 

For a moment, no one said anything. 

“You shouldn’t have had to be a part of that,”

Sasha felt her eyes water, and quickly turned her head away from the other two. 

“Yeah…”

Then, quietly, to himself, “…yeah…”

Chapter Text

The teleportation was subtler this time—instead of a bright flash of light, there was a faint clicking noise, and, suddenly, a new person. It was a girl—seemingly around Sasha’s age—wearing dark grey shorts and a zipped-up grey jacket. Her legs and face were littered with dirt, blood, bruises, cuts, and small scars. Her dark brown hair was pulled up in a ponytail, and her chocolate colored eyes were wide and bloodshot. Her left ankle was bruised and swollen, her foot bent unnaturally. 

She stood, perfectly frozen, panting. Then, her lips curled into a snarl, baring her teeth, as she backed into the wall, limping, her eyes never leaving them. “Who are you?” She growled. “Where the hell am I?” 

“Woah—hey, hey, hey, calm down,” Sasha raised his hands in a show of innocence, standing up slowly, making her movements slow and clear. “We’re not gonna hurt you. This is…fuck, this is gonna sound weird…”

“This is a pocket dimension that we’ve all been teleported to to partake in forced group therapy,” Stan deadpanned, which startled them, because they hadn’t known he was awake. 

“…yeah, sorry if I don’t believe you,” the girl scowled, fingers twitching. “But the last several people I’ve encountered have all tried to kill me and my friends, so I’m not too keen on trust right now,” 

Sasha blinked. “…no, yeah, that’s—that’s fair,” 

“So, kid,” Eda leaned forward, elbow on her knee and head on her hand. “What’s your name?” 

No answer. 

Marceline shifted, floating upside casually. “…okay then. That’s okay, you—you don’t gotta answer,” 

“I’m Sasha,” the blonde offered gently. “The bat person is Marceline, the old lady is Eda—”

“I’m not that old!”

“Yes you are, shut up!” 

The witch grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. 

The girl seemed to relax ever so slightly, a bit of the tension easing from her shoulders. 

Sasha noticed the shift in her posture, and took a small step closer. “You don’t have to tell us anything—really, you don’t. But your ankle is clearly fucked and you look exhausted, so please, just let us help you,”

For a moment, there was silence, as the girl glanced down at her foot, wincing at the sight. “…fine,” she mumbled. 

“Okay,” she said softly. “I’m gonna move closer to you so I can look at it, and I won’t touch it unless you say I can, alright?”

She hesitated, eyes narrowed, but nodded. The blonde did as he said he would, crouching down on the floor in front of her to inspect the injury. “I know it can be… hard… to trust people, and, heck, I don’t even fully trust anyone here yet—but you can trust me, okay? You don’t have to, and I don’t expect you to, but I promise you can,” 

She didn’t say anything. 

“Can I take your shoe off?” 

“…yeah,” 

He did so gently, putting it off to the side. “Can I ask what happened?”

“…hit it,” she murmured. “Jumped from a cable before it could fall into the lagoon after the mosasaurus wrecked the tower thing it was connected to at the middle of the lagoon,” 

“The what?” Marceline blinked. 

“Mosasaurus. Giant eldritch water dinosaur,” 

“Okay, so,” Sasha stood up. “Your ankle is definitely fucked. Worse than sprained, probably fractured. I’m not a doctor, but I am a former soldier and army commander, so I’ve seen and had my fair share of injuries, and I’m gonna warn you now—it might never properly heal,” 

The girl let out a bitter laugh, banging the back of her head into the wall. “Of course. Of course! Yet another thing that fucking island ruined!” She hit her head on the wall again, eyes glistening with unshed tears. 

“Woah, woah, woah—” Sasha exclaimed, rushing to place his hand between her head and the wall. “Hey, no, don’t do that, alright?” 

She blinked, her chest heaving, then stepped away from the blonde, wrapping her arms around herself, swallowing hard. 

“I—I’m sorry,” she whispered, looking at the floor. “I just—I’m tired. I’m so, so, so fucking tired. I’m tired of being useless, I’m tired of running for my life, I’m tired of not knowing whether or not we’re gonna survive the night, and I’m—I’m just tired,”  

“I get it,” a soft, sleepy voice came from the other side of the room. 

They all turned towards it, where Ashlyn was sitting up, yawning, rubbing her eyes. 

“I get it,” she repeated, slightly louder, clearer. “Not the dinosaurs, obviously—but the rest of it, the—the running, the pain, the exhaustion. The feeling of being a kid thrust into a dangerous world that nobody understands. And, yeah…it sucks. There’s no way of knowing what the right thing to do is, or whether you should sacrifice your humanity for your loved ones or if you should do the right thing and potentially lose them,” 

“…yeah…” 

“But,” the redhead continued. “You don’t have to make the choice on your own. There’s always someone that you can turn to. You said we earlier—are you with people, where you were before you came here?” 

“Yeah,” the girl’s face lit up. “My friends—Darius, Sammy, Ben, Kenji, and Brooklynn. We were all part of a camp program on an island, but something went wrong, and—” her face fell, shoulders sagging. “…and we were left behind,” 

“…how about you tell us about your friends?” Steven suggested, startling everyone, as they’d all thought he was sleeping. 

“Have you been awake this whole time??” Sasha demanded. 

The prince shrugged, grinning. “You should probably sit down. And prop up your foot. Also, hi! My name’s Steven, and you are…?”

“…Yasmina,” she said softly. 

“That’s a pretty name!” 

She smiled, perking up. 

“Now, about your friends?”

“Oh! Okay, so, Darius is the youngest, I think he’s, like, twelve-ish? He’s a huuuuge dinosaur nerd, which comes in handy on an island full of dinosaurs! Then there’s Brooklynn, she’s thirteen, she’s an influencer—” she did air quotes around the word influencer. “—and she’s really smart! She has a ton of random knowledge about obscure things. Ben and Sammy are both fourteen—Ben used to be scared of everything, but then he fell off of a monorail, almost died, and survived in the jungle for a bit on his own. Well, except for Bumpy—she’s an ankylosaurus that imprinted on him. Sammy is—god, how do I even begin to describe Sammy?” 

Yasmina proceeded to spend at least fifteen minutes talking about how amazing Sammy was. She also seemed oblivious to her obvious crush. It was adorable.