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vivalabunbun · 2 years ago

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There Are Nothing But Flowers

Summary: You want to play house and he’s just hungry.

Word Count: 11.3K

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Smut(r18+), Modern AU, Vampire AU, TW: Death, Terminally ill! Reader, TW: Medical gaslighting, description of medial treatments & corruption, TW: Blood & Blood drinking, vague mentions of violence, Contract Marriage AU, slight! enemies to lovers, Slow burn, NSFW, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Unrequited love?, Vampire! Alhaitham, Dom! Alhaitham, Human! Reader, biting, slight orgasm denial, overstimulation, creampie, slight corruption kink, temperature play? you fall hard, slow fic, tragedy.

Authors note: This is the other side to this work, your side of the story, please read the tags carefully. I wanted to explore the other side of the garden wall and themes of mortality, it’s heavy, please read when you feel well enough to see what lies beyond. Enjoy.

Side note: the aftermath

“Honey, I’ll be off to work now.” A dapper man straightens out his tie, a briefcase in his other hand.

“Dear…aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Are my pants unzipped again?” His eyes darted down as disembodied laughter rang out in the unseen background.

“No, you forgot this.” The pattering of house slippers stops as the woman cradles her lover's face between her hands.

The kiss from her immaculately painted lips melted the wrinkles from his forehead as the taller man leaned into his deserved affection.

“Have a good day at work, my love.”

—

A quiet house on the hill, white picket fences, and a lovely dog wagging its tail in the green yard. Eyes watching the vibrancies dance along a small screen, blocking out the gray in the peripheral.

Everything about this drama was cliché, the plot slow and predictable, just mediocre. So perfectly mundane that your hand itches to grab it through the screen like a thief. But are you really a thief if you steal back what was taken from you?

Before your mind can explore that comparison further a knock drags you out of the immersion, thumb quickly taps the screen to halt the fantasy.

“Good evening, ma’am.” The doctor in his white uniform enters.

“Hello, doctor.”

Two polite smiles greet each other, neither truly reaching the eyes. Your hands neatly folded together, his fiddling with the chipboard which held your verdict.

Observing how his teeth bit the inside of his cheek as his eyes scanned the charts. Your hands remain still even as he takes a deep breath.

“Unfortunately it has spread beyond our initial expectations. The results show that it’s progressed to a late stage despite our best efforts. Right now, you only have a few treatment options left.”

What happened to ‘just that time of the month’, ‘just get fresh air’, and ‘just give it some time’?

“There’s a series of procedures to cut out the spread, however, it might be very difficult as the infection is deep and intertwined with healthy tissue. The success rate is low, and the probability of it coming back is very high.”

What happened to ‘you’re young and healthy, it’s nothing’?

“The next possible treatment would be Kalpalata Lotuses. It has properties to slow inflections and has pain-reducing effects, however, it’s slow and inefficient in the long run. If you choose the first option you’ll have to pair it with treatment two. The first could give you fourteen years, the second on its own might only give you half of that.”

What were these past months spent behind a glass prison all for?

The constant hum of the machines filled in the dead space, the beeps on the monitors counting the passing seconds as two lips remained closed.

From the hallways, the chattering of nurses provided proof that the world in fact has not stopped spinning. Something dreadful filled the room, a silent suffocation. He was the first to fold.

“Please take your time to think this decision over, I’ll leave you to get some rest. Have a good night ma’am.” There was a flutter of pages folding back down to the clipboard.

The doctors were letting you pick your poison, how thoughtful of them.

Just as before two polite smiles that didn’t reach the eyes acknowledged each other, with a nod the doctor took his leave, eager to end his shift, to escape the unseen hands.

Not a word slipped past your lips during the one-sided conversation, tongue unable to string together a single sentence. What is there left to say?

As you lay back down your fingers brushed against the screen, restarting the episode as the laughter of an audience resonated along the sterile walls.

Maybe if the doctors, with their acclaimed degrees and status, were just a little more attentive.

Maybe if they didn’t simply see you as a lady with nonsensical symptoms.

Maybe if they didn’t view you as a statistic.

Then you wouldn’t have collapsed that day at work.

Then you wouldn’t have spent grueling months undergoing diagnosis after diagnosis.

Then maybe just maybe the Pythagorean Cup wouldn’t have surpassed its threshold, emptying out all hope.

The dialogue continues but it’s all but a fuzzy ringing now. Eyes watching the passing car lights dance upon the gray ceiling from the late evening traffic of workers, with their white or blue collars, eager to return home.

You longed for that, to return there. Hands itching to rip out the tube from your arm and the sensor with its pitched beeps.

Fourteen years, fourteen years of what? Bed sores from thin sheets? Chest pains at too deep of breaths? Stitches recovering only to be ripped open again?

Sounds more like a punishment delivered deep underground in a place whose temperature rivals the surface of a burning star.

Was it because you cursed at the man who cut you in line once?

Was it because you stole your college roommate’s sweater?

Was it because you never brought offerings to the Sanctuary of Surasthana?

Were you such a despicable person in a past life that the sins carried over?

Heavy lids closed to soothe the burning in your eyes, letting the warm trails run down your cheek. Reining your senses back from its escapade with a slow breath.

No. It’s none of that. It’s just life, capricious life. Capricious life that took your parents and now is hunting you.

There’s no karmic debt to pay off, there’s no faceless god to pray to. Setting one foot onto the path of true adulthood, only for your eyes to spot the end just over the horizon. What can you do?

The jumbled laughs and fuzzy speeches coming from your phone’s speaker were becoming too much. Thus you rolled your heavy body over to silence it. Once again the world outside the window was in view, the soft orange glow from the office right across leaking into the suffocating grey.

Oh, he’s at his desk tonight.

Wet eyes watch as the ashen-haired being shifts through sheets of crisp paper and his pen moving constantly. It’s strange, a bit mocking even, that an immortal creature could be so mundane.

Maybe that’s why their office is just across the Bimarstan, to taunt those who longed for that reality, beckoning them to sign their names on a dotted line.

Candace’s words were right, it’s a predatory scheme.

Perhaps hold habits die hard, after all, vampires are creatures of the night that once terrorized generations of humans.

Shielded by the panes of glass separating the two buildings, it was safe to continue this strange routine. Is staring at a stranger considered stalking if they’re the only view the windows offer?

He got up from his desk, moving towards the filing cabinet just off to the side, allowing for his profile to come into view.

He’s handsome, features outshining any of the male leads you’ve seen in movies.

Teal eyes, ashen hair like moonlight, tall and broad stature. It’s no mystery why so many heroes and heroines fell into depravity, lured in by their beauty, entranced minds blindly offering up their everything.

You weren’t special enough to be immune. Hence, why you continued to watch the nameless vampire who doesn’t know yours. Resting your cheek upon the stiff pillow, the feeling in your arm decreases like the cars in the streets. The pitched beeps keeping time.

He stood back up from his desk again, one hand grabbing the coat thrown over the back of a chair. Placing pens back into a cup and paper back into folders, he walks to the door before his hand shuts off the warm orange light.

It looks like tonight’s episode has ended on time like always. Rolling back to stare at the drab ceiling, allowing blood to rush back into your arm as the sensation of pins and needles crawled up. It wasn’t bothersome, as tonight's viewing evoked entertaining thoughts.

What a punctual vampire, where does he go after midnight? To a tavern or home?

Is someone waiting at the door for him there? Welcoming him back with soft lips?

Is that why he’s so eager to leave?

Your lids were growing heavy, the view of a blank ceiling wanes your alertness. The sweet curiosities coax you to continue in the realm of dreams, you listened to their call.

Could you be that someone?

“So, how ya feeling?” Dehya places down a container filled with baklava.

“Mmm…”

The metal legs of the visitor's chair scraped across the floor as she awaits your response.

“Would you still be my friend if I was a rock, Dehya?”

“Ahh, not this again.” She rolls her eyes.

Sitting upright in the hospital bed, hands folded together you awaited her response.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll still love you to bits even if you’re a pebble or something,” Dehya sighs, but there’s an upward tilt in her lips.

“I’ll love you too.” You helped yourself to some baklava.

A reward for your diversion of a miserable topic with sweet nonsense and special words. After all, she’s got a difficult job during the night, no need to make the day as difficult. Your mother used to say to save such words only for a special someone, but that’s the point of a word if it's never used?

–

“So, a few weeks ago I took this assignment that–” Dehya’s sapphire eyes moved behind you, gazing out the window where the sunlight poured in.

“Ugh, his office is right across from you.”

“Who?”

“Alhaitham, he’s a vampire I had the misfortune of meeting during a job, not that he’d remember.”

So the vampire’s name was Alhaitham, it felt nice on your tongue.

“Oh? How come?”

“He just always talks in long, convoluted sentences, and in that snooty tone, snooty even for a vampire.” Dehya takes a piece of baklava to ease her from that bitter work experience.

“My, I wonder how his spouse bares with him.” The bait was set out.

“Pfft?! Ahaha! Who? It’s nearly impossible to spend five minutes by his side.”

“Mm, really?”

“No ring on his finger. From what I’ve gathered even other vampires can’t stand that personality of his.” Dehya takes another piece.

Success.

–

The container of baklava now only holds a few crumbs and traces of sweet syrup. The sun was beginning to kiss the horizon, a sign that your friend’s visit was coming to an end.

After all, she’s got a duty to fulfill as a hunter that maintains the balance between mortals and creatures who dare cross the boundaries of the law.

Right as your hand returns from the air after bidding goodbye, it lands on the cold screen of your phone. In an age of growing cities and ever-advancing technologies, you’re grateful for these developments. As it makes your next actions possible.

It’s hard to miss a name when the letters are written in bold, imposing signs along the building just beyond the panes of glass.

As per Sumeru regulation, all employed vampires must be listed on company sites, an attempt at keeping track of such creatures.

Scrolling page after page until eyes landed upon familiar ash-mint trusses.

Name: Alhaitham

Species: Vampire (Born)

Title: Secretary

Years At Company: 168

Fingers clicked on the next tab.

“To apply for a blood contract, one must bring personal identification, and fill out an application during an appointed consultation with the vampire present. Once the boundaries of the contract are established, it will go through the approvement process.”

Eyes moved to the next tab.

“Seven years is the maximum time for a singular contract, but it can be renewed every seven years. Both parties must fulfill the terms written on the contract. The value of a contract is determined by the amount of blood offered on a regular basis or in a future deposit. Applying for a contract that gives the maximum, 10 pints, in a full sum amount must pass a psychological evaluation.”

Fourteen years is an unjustly cruel fate, but seven… Seven might be tolerable. After all, it’s often called the number of luck, you wonder if vampires were aware of this, maybe that’s why they chose that arbitrary number.

Waiting as the sun disappears behind the horizon with your head resting against the stiff pillow. The warm orange glow from the office across from you signaled the start of tonight’s episode. Observing every stop and start of his pen as two voices wrangled your thoughts.

There was a guest featured in this episode it seems, another vampire enters the office with a fresh stack of paper. He seemed eager for Alhaitham’s approval, even going as far as offering a pen out from his own pocket. However, this plan was foiled by a simple rise of hand by the male lead.

The universal signal for rejection.

The guest seemed dumbstruck. The only explanation the silver-haired lead gave was a simple gesture toward a clock. The guest’s hands were moving frantically as if to convey the urgency of the papers piled up.

However, Alhaitham simply takes his coat from the back of his chair and shuts off the warm light.

In the murky darkness, your eyes could just barely make out the silhouettes of two figures traversing out of the office. Oh, tonight’s episode has ended just on time as always.

How shamelessly punctual that vampire is. Some might even call it selfish. But what’s wrong with being selfish? After all, all true passions in life in the end are thinly veiled excuses for selfishness.

If life wanted to be shamelessly selfish, then why can’t you? With that, it seems one voice has finally emerged victorious.

Your fingers crept towards a button just off to the side, a quiet ding resounding as the bright glow flashed. Breaths counting the minutes before a set of footsteps stopped in front of your room, followed by a polite knock.

“Is there something you need, ma’am?”

“Yes, I want to discharge myself tomorrow, as soon as possible.”

Your eyes traced over the too-long string of zeros printed on the check, hands wanting to crumble up the slip of paper. So this is how much your life was worth. Standing outside the Bimarstan, you peered up at the tall building that once caged you.

Were the administrators looking down at you at this moment from their high offices? Were they watching your reaction to their little bribe? Pushing you to keep your lips shut, so that their mistakes and misjudgments won’t reach the ears of the press?

It doesn’t really matter now, but it was thoughtful of them to hand out an extra bargaining chip. Refocusing your attention back on the building just across the street, there were still some preparations to finish.

–

The time was now 6:30 pm, the sun has ran off into the night allowing for the stars to guide you back to the building just beyond the glass.

A simple bag held your offerings: proof of identity, property documents, doctor's notes, and bank statements handsomely topped off with the help of a certain check.

There’s a jitter in your legs as you stood just beyond the threshold of the sliding doors. Is it really the right thing to do?

What would be the look on the faces of your dearest friends?

Would the handsome stranger show last night’s gesture to you too?

Your lungs steadily filled with the crisp air, pushing their capacity almost to the point of pain, you exhaled.

The right thing to do is to be selfish, they’ll understand sooner or later, and the worst thing he could do is say no.

Even if you leave with your cheeks burning in shame, the burn would only last seven years. Your feet stepped past the threshold and the glass doors parted.

“Excuse me, is Mr. Alhaitham here tonight?” You already knew the answer.

“Hm? Yes… Are you looking for him, youngster?” The receptionist quirks a brow at you.

“Yes, I want to schedule a contract consultation with him right now.” You take note of her name tag.

“Hold just one moment, the secretary-”

“Is his schedule occupied right now?”

“No, but if you’d let me finish, Alhaitham isn’t one of the vampires that usually accept such-”

“Please, Madam Faruzan?”

You weren’t sure if it was the polite address of her name or the plead in your gaze that was the cause of the decisive furrow between her brows. However, her shoulders slumped forward as a huff leaves her lips.

“Alright, please follow me.” She gestures a hand, welcoming you to the elevator just behind the desk.

“Thank you.”

Within the confines of the fancy cart, the blue-haired vampire asks over and over if you had all the correct documents, listing each one out. Your skilled ears tuned every word out, nodding along to feign attention. Finally, the saving grace of a pleasant ding signals the chart’s stop at its destination.

When the polished doors slid apart, you charged out into the floor, your legs guiding you to the office with the clearest view of your old glass cage.

From behind you, Faruzan called out your name as she mutter something about how humans these days are always in just a rush. Your ears could care less about her words.

Gallivanting through the threshold of his open office door, you finally came face to face with the male lead you’ve been fawning over.

As his eyes meet yours, you observed the brilliant shades of teal and ocher in them. Really, the view from across two panes of glass couldn’t detail his true beauty.

“Hello, Mr. Alhaitham.” You beamed your best smile.

The pattering of steps behind you comes to a stop as Faruzan finally catches up exasperated at your impatience.

“Secretary Alhaitham, this young lady here would like to make a blood contract with you.”

The weight of his teal gaze shifted back on your frame after your late introduction, assessing the situation as you awaited his response.

“I see.” He nods while walking out from behind the desk, pulling out the chair in front of it.

The receptionist took her cue to leave the room, shutting the office door on the way out. The room now balanced with just one mortal and one immortal.

You paid no mind to his words as you settled down into the seat, after all, you’ve already read through them. Instead, your ears absorbed his timbre tone and smooth cadence. What a dangerously beautiful voice, it’s beckoning you towards the murkier waters.

“What are your demands?”

“Marry me.” Your lips blurted the truth out before shame got the chance to stop them.

Remember, the worst he could do is to show you the door.

–

In truth, you were preparing yourself to see the open palm of his large hand as he rejects your ridiculous proposal. Yet, here you were, still in his office. Sitting just across the expanse of his dark oak desk, all your documents scattered across it as Alhaitham’s pen guided across a form.

“What are the living arrangements you expect?” He doesn’t glance up from the paper.

“Mm… Would moving into your home be possible? Married couples usually live together.”

“That’s possible. Expectations for domestic and financial responsibilities?”

“I can’t work, so I don’t mind taking care of the house. But, I do want us to share some chores, so I don’t go insane.” You wonder if the ends of his lips would curl at your humor.

“I see.” The pen continues to record the sentences down on the form.

You kept the smile up despite the sting of failure.

“So… How much blood do vampires need?” Best to move on.

“It depends. Humans can give at most two pints of blood safely, and only once every two months.”

“You only need to feed once every two months?”

“Yes, would that be an issue?”

Lips parted, your next sentence dangles just off the tip of it. However, it seems that Alhaitham had already read them.

“Mortal medicine has no effect on our bodies.”

“Are there any restrictions on affection? Any personal boundaries?” You pivoted to another question.

The pen stops for a moment, his teal eyes shifting off the paper for just a brief moment as he evaluates numerous scenarios, or at least that’s what you think he’s doing.

“Deep kisses are not permitted.” Alhaitham’s teal eyes pierced straight into yours as he delivered the verdict.

It’s silly really, you really don’t have the right to demand an ounce of touch from him, you aren’t entitled to his personal space. However, something still made your stomach sink.

“Oh?... May I ask why?”

“There runs the risk of blood contamination through exchanging saliva, our incisors are quite sharp.”

Oh. You read between the lines he penned down. The most sacred law of this age, a time where mortals and immortals walk alongside each other: vampires cannot turn humans into immortal beings.

He’s being precautious, after all the price he’d have to pay for a drop of his blood tainting yours is far greater than anything you could offer. Yet, the greed deep within you wouldn’t stay silent.

“Are closed-mouth kisses okay then?” Haggling the clauses like you were at a market stall.

Once more the pen stops as he contemplates your bargain.

“Yes.”

“The contract has been submitted to the legal department. If you pass the evaluation, it’ll be approved by the end of this month. I look forward to your cooperation.”

And with his disembodied voice over the phone, he accepts your proposal. Alhaitham agreed to play the role of your husband. The anticipation that weighed down your shoulders for the past three days was finally lifted. Hopefully he can’t hear your idiotic grin through the phone.

Success.

—

“No, I won’t accept this.” Dehya slams her glass down, unfazed by the glances from surrounding tables.

“Please reconsider your decision.” Candace gives you her disapproving gaze.

Shifting your eyes over to Nilou, poor sweet Nilou whose wide eyes could only convey the word ‘why?’. The interrogation after showing the ring to your dearest friends was much more intense than the evaluation you underwent to get the marriage approved.

However, it’s to be expected. After all, two of the people at this table were hunters. If anyone knew the true brutality vampires hold, it would be them.

Tapping on the screen of your phone to reveal the time. Of course, you won’t arrive at this negotiation unprepared. Glancing back up to face the counsel of your friends, a honeyed smile on your lips.

“Would you guys have the time to accompany me to a doctor’s visit?”

–

That took longer than you expected, walking out of the sliding glass doors which reflect the everchanging hues of dusk. The cause for this extended session at the Bimarstan was the numerous times your dearest guests made the poor doctor repeat your verdict.

Each time hoping that something different would leave his mouth. Peering up at the building across the street, you wonder if he’s getting ready to leave the house soon.

The closing of the automatic doors draws your attention back to the three figures who followed behind you. Pensiveness eyes downcasted as their minds continued to digest the events that have unfolded.

“Pfft! What’s with this atmosphere?” A giggle leaves your breath, it’s unbefitting for a gathering of friends.

“I won’t force you to attend my wedding if you don’t want to. However, I’ll be quite the lonely bride without any bridesmaids.” There was your honeyed smile again.

They could say no, they could beg you to drink the first poison offered by the doctors, they could ask you to give them more time, to give yourself more time. But they won’t. You knew they won’t.

Unlike you, they’re selfless and heedful, all your fortune in life must’ve been spent on finding such dear friends.

You’re the only selfish one.

There are many things you like about Alhaitham. Even excluding his excellent physique, his starlight hair and beryl-citrine eyes, he’s got the perfect traits of a life partner. He satisfies all the aspects of the ideal husband. Never leaving you wanting or hungry. You could list all his positive traits.

–

One, by simply holding out a hand, he’ll place his black card onto your awaiting palm. Not even batting an eye when you returned home from a ‘simple grocery run’ in a new set of clothes with the tags still on.

When you mentioned to him that a TV would look nice on the empty living room wall, he ordered one on the same day. How dreamy.

–

Two, he’s quite the interesting specimen.

“So, if someone were to douse you with blessed water, your flesh won’t burn?”

“No.”

Alhaitham humors your ridiculous inquires about his species, enlightening you to just how inaccurate those films and shows you loved were.

He even humors the trivial anniversaries, celebrations, and dates inspired by any recent dramas you fancied. The wedding was proof enough: he tolerates your fantasies.

–

Three, what you liked most of all: he’s too smart to ask redundant questions. After all, he’s read the files, he’s seen the diagnosis.

It’s not some secret that shall not be told, not a monster that shall not be named. Just like how there’s no point in telling someone the sky is blue, there’s nothing left to say about the doctor's notes.

No surprises, no sudden alarms, just the artificially sweet lull of domestic life.

–

Performing the part of a doting husband with such spectacular accuracy, you could almost mistake it as sincere.

You applaud the amount of skill it takes. However, costars are meant to bring out the best in each other, pushing one another past their thresholds for an excellent show.

The slightest blunders of lines and facial muscles couldn’t fool your expert gaze. It does take one to know one.

–

“Haitham,” you called out.

Setting down the two servings of biryani on the dinner table, the rich spices perfumed through the halls. It only takes one call for Alhaitham to come out from his library, halting for a second at the threshold of the kitchen before swiftly composing himself once more.

“Dinner is ready, it’s biryani tonight.” You gestured for him to take a seat, a smile ever present on your lips.

“Thank you.” He takes his place.

You take your place just across the table, wasting no time enjoying the fruit of labor after standing over a stove. Every grain of rice perfectly coated in the right amount of seasoning, just the correct level of richness. The recipe you followed online deserved its high rating, it’s delicious.

Traveling across the length of the dinner table, your leaden gaze landed upon the figure who has yet to touch his meal. That must’ve been enough for him to take his cue, bringing a spoon full into his mouth, chewing then shallowing.

“How is it?” Resting an elbow on the polished oak.

“You’ve worked hard on this dish, thank you.” He takes another bite.

Letting out a pleased hum, you released him from this scene. Turning your attention back to your own meal.

You’ll clear your plate in about twenty more bites, and he’ll continue to push the contents of his plate around once in a while faking a bite. Then after you’re finished, he’ll swiftly offer to clear the table and dishes, telling you to retire to the bedroom for rest.

A clever diversion from his ultimate goal of dumping your cooking into the trash. You’ve gone through this script for two years now.

It’s practically impossible to completely suppress one’s true intentions and instincts. Alhaitham can’t fully prevent the corners of his lips from down-turning every time you address him with that botched nickname.

He can’t entirely stop the sigh escaping his lips whenever you call for him to help with menial tasks, unbefitting for such a noble creature.

He can’t suppress the repulsive scrunch of his nose every time your cooking assaults his palate, the same reaction witnessed during the bi-monthly feeding sessions.

The same disgust he has of your blood, you thought mortal medicines has no effect on such beings, an oversight on his part.

He’s not as much of a mastermind as he might think, after all, he’s the one who allowed a piece of paper to be dangled over his head. Placing the power of clauses into the palm of your awaiting hand.

You tell him ‘jump’, and he’ll ask how high with disdain thinly veiled behind brilliant teal.

Humans are defined by their curiosity and greed, mortal hands always playing chicken with a boundary, testing how far they could go. You’re not special enough to be different.

Perhaps the only time he gets the advantage is when you bare your neck for him. Fangs hastily piercing skin, hands a bit too harsh around the neck. He wants it to hurt, you know.

Too bad, months spent at the hospital trained your tolerance to such sensations.

If life wants to entangle its fingers into your hair and cruelly tow you to and fro, why can’t you enjoy that same feeling? You’ll just grasp at any wisp of control, you’re a simple human after all. You’d even grasp onto death to stable yourself.

Mortal self-interest versus immortal apathy, what a disastrous harmony.

Ah, you slept a bit too long. Extended nap causing you to miss a scheduled cup of tea. Tapping a finger along the cool marble countertop you watched the kettle boil.

Frame resting against the counter, each tap against the marble was a futile attempt at distraction. Kalpalata Lotus’ effects can only last four hours, what a shame.

The steady rhythm of taps interrupted now and then by a pulse of pain as the leaves steeped. Starting deep within your core then crawling it’s up to your lungs like a shadow overtaking a frail flower.

This must be your warranted punishment for a transgression committed over the weekend. Dragging a creature of the night into the bright, unwelcoming sun all for a silly farmer’s market. Alhaitham’s slumped figure and worn tone were the cue.

You thought vampires weren’t like how the drama portrayed them, but perhaps there’s some truth, an oversight on your part.

You played chicken with that boundary and got burned, how will you soothe the wounds of guilt now?

Foregoing honey this time, you hastily swallowed the entire contents of the cup. No matter how fast you push the tea down your throat, no matter how many spoonfuls of honey you put into it: it’s unpalatable.

The herbal tang dried the inside of your mouth, yet the bitterness made your salivary glands go into overdrive. This is what purgatory is like, huh?

The chime of your ringtone snapped you back to reality. Glancing over at the screen: Candace. A call so late, she’s at work now, isn’t she?

Swiftly pushing down the bitterness that lingered, clearing your throat before accepting the call.

“Hello?”

“Good evening, how are you feeling, any discomfort?”

“Pfft! The diligent Candace gets on her phone during work just to check up on me? I’m swooned.” Your bell-like laughter made the pain worse as it rang through the empty house.

From the other side, you could pick up the faint giggle, you envision her fighting back a smile.

“Yes, yes. But more importantly, where are you now?”

“Home, why? Did you want to visit? I got some baklava.”

“Good, stay there.” There’s an instant switch to the mood.

“Mm?” You hummed, passively acknowledging the tension.

“Please stay inside. There’s a rouge vampire at large, hunters are scattered all throughout the city.”

Leaving you with a cliffhanger, she knew you’d want a taste of the details. You’ll bite.

“Oh? That serious, what did they do?”

“He turned his lover.”

Goosebumps ran up your neck in the perfectly tempered room. That vampire crossed the forbidden line in the sand, straight into the ocean of inevitable demise.

The most sacred rule results in the most miserable end. Once caught, his chest will be pierced with silver, heart torn from his body. She doesn’t need to detail those, you already knew.

“Oh?”

“His lover has been located, they’re receiving treatment, unsure of the status. However, you should tell your husband to be careful.”

“I should be saying that to you. Stay safe out there, he’s probably on his way back anyways.” Your eyes glanced at the clock, 11: 59 pm.

“Alright, I will. You should really rest, it’s so late.”

“Mm? Says you, Candace. Tell Dehya I said to stay out of trouble.”

She hums in response. Right after you chimed your farewell and right before she disconnected the call, you slipped in one more line.

“Please stay safe.” Addressed to no one person in particular.

–

The hands on the clock now read 3: 21 am, a fresh cup of tea now rested in between your hands. Eye reflecting back at you, still no message, not a single call. His voicemail now ingrained into your ears.

In an age where humans and vampires now live side by side, it’d be naive to believe that such arrangements are free from prejudice. After all, centuries of fear and hatred don’t just vanish into the air like the vapors of hot tea.

If a vampire is slain during a hunt, a creature unrelated to the true prey, oh well.

It was for the greater good, it was to maintain the peace, to ensure humanity’s safety. You’re not in the mood to debate such flimsy excuses.

–

It’s now 4: 34 am, the blushing hues of dawn were just about to creep through the curtains by the front door. Your legs begged for rest, your shoulders heavy, but you refused to leave your post.

Finally, the clink of keys slotting into place sang through the entranceway. The heavy oak door opens, you don’t need to study his expression, he’s disappointed to see you.

“Where’ve you been?” No chirp in your command.

“I went drinking with coworkers.”

You know, you could smell it on him.

“Why didn’t you call beforehand?”

Alhaitham doesn’t bother to suppress his deep exhale, nor the downward tug at his lips. Disdain meets disappointment, eyes and frowns locked into a staredown as the hands of a clock kept time.

In the peripheral you spot warm orange chasing away the pink, clearing the way for the most brilliant star. Oh, it looks like your wound wasn’t soothed enough. You closed your eyes.

What went wrong with the script?

You.

It’s not selfishness, it’s plain immaturity. Immaturity breeds cruelty. The same immature cruelty of a curious child who ripped off the hypnotically beautiful wings of a butterfly.

Perhaps the corruption of your tissues has made its way into your personality, an unforeseen consequence of that herbal tea. Or maybe your transgressions were the influence of a green-eyed monster. Immortality gives him an overabundance of what you’re deprived of.

But it’s not his fault, it’s not an unseen monster’s fault, it’s your immaturity that’s ruining this performance.

This just won’t do. With the script going awry long ago, there’s no use in trying to follow it, the two of two should conserve your energy.

It’s best to rewrite it again, to say lines that’ll move the scene along in the right direction, to save this domestic drama. You’ll be the first to fold.

“My life’s too short for misunderstandings and messy communication,” you huffed.

Lids opening back up to catch his gaze again, restrained and artificially blank as always. Still, he’s got beautiful eyes.

“I’m your wife, and you’re my husband.” You stated the obvious.

Alhaitham knows that, so his lips remain still.

“So when my husband, who usually arrives home at half past midnight on the dot, didn’t arrive home until dawn without a single text or call, I got worried.”

Another deep exhale from him.

“You don’t need to report every movement to me, I don’t want that either. But if you plan on staying out please give me a simple text, so I don’t have to spend hours worrying about why my husband isn’t answering my calls.”

The discoloration under your eyes, the slump of your heavy shoulders, and the unsteadiness of your knees. He’s observing them all, isn’t he? A pro-actor accesses the situation before deciding how to respond to an ad-lib.

“I understand, I’ll do that from now on,” he answers.

What a typical response for him, but maybe not so much for a husband.

“You’re supposed to apologize, ya know: ‘I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife’,” you advised.

“I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time, my wife,” he parroted.

You’ll suppress your giggles for now, this successful pivot of a dreadful scene caused a grin to break out on your face. One that reaches your eyes.

Arms outstretched you wrapped them around his neck as your lips warmed up his cool cheek, tying the ending together with repetition that’s now become a habit.

“Welcome home, Haitham.”

“Closed… for construction?...” Your eyes trailed across the bolded letters.

The grand garden was blocked off by iron gates and mossy stonewalls, path dimly lit by dull streetlamps.

It’s your third anniversary, to celebrate a new chapter, a reworked script, you planned this special itinerary. The Pardis Dhyai was the grandest garden in all of Sumeru, and they offered night tours. It was perfect, but it seems that you miscalculated.

“It’s negligence on their part for not having this notification on their website.” Alhaitham’s baritone voice draws you from your thoughts.

You must look so idiotic right now. Getting all dressed up and even coaxing him from the comfort of the house just to bring Alhaitham to a wall. You didn’t fight the slump of your shoulders, the fires of shame licked at your cheeks. You feel the weight of his teal eyes.

“The street market is open tonight, would you like to go there instead?”

What a good husband, stepping in to remedy his wife’s mistakes. Finally gathering the courage to connect with his gaze, you notice the faint twitch of his nose as a breeze passed by.

“Do you not like flowers?”

“Their fragrance is overbearing.”

Recalling the times you’ve shoved an excessive bouquet in front of his face during previous anniversaries, the familiar burn of guilt crept up your back. You just can’t do anything right tonight, huh?

“There’s no point in standing around.” He stretched out a hand towards you, palms waiting.

“... Heh, it’s a good thing it’s closed then huh, Haitham?” Placing your warm hand into his cold grasp, a meek smile stretches your lips.

Alhaitham hums in response, mercifully guiding you in the direction of the night market. As you walked along the dimly illuminated path, your eyes traveled back to the stonewall once more, its height towering even over your husband.

“I’ve never visited this place before… what a shame…” The comment slipped your tongue before you could bite it back.

Alhaitham promptly stops, turning back to glance between you and the mossy wall. The lullabies of crickets filled the nothingness, much like they did during the wedding night. The smile on your face grew tighter, he must think you’re whining.

“Woah??-”

Before you could conquer up a line to transition from this scene, Alhaitham had released your hand, only for his arms to hoist you off the ground.

Tender hold balancing you against his firm frame, you had to tilt your neck down to look at his face. Following the subtle motion of his head you looked in the same direction, eyes widening as realization dawned upon you.

The garden wall towered over the two of you, but as one, you were able to peer over the craggy barrier that once blocked your view. Wind blowing the floral fragrance over your face unobstructed.

“What do you see?” The deep vibrations of his chest resonate against your body.

There was no one here tonight. Just a husband and wife enjoying a moment so private, not even the moon dare intrude. Sweetness meddling with bitter guilt, crafting something bittersweet.

“Flowers…very beautiful flowers,” you answered, gazing beyond the stones.

“It’s a garden after all.”

“Pfft!”

The contrast between this gentle scene and his curt response pushes a laugh from your breath.

Patting his arm, you signaled for him to place you down, and carefully he follows your instruction. Once your feet touched the solid earth again, you pressed your face into his shoulder.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“It’s our anniversary.” The justification of his actions.

“Of course… now let’s go, I want to try the samosas there!” The brightness returns back to your lips.

This time, you lead the way. Warm hands mingle with his cold ones, creating a comfortable temperature as you gallivanted along as one. Under the moonless sky, you told him your first true lie, a full lie.

–

How troublesome, you said you’d clean the library tonight. Looking around at the piles of books littered all throughout and the coating of dust. If only a nap didn’t eat away at the day, then maybe you wouldn’t be so pressed for time.

Oh well, rolling up your sleeves to begin your promised duty. No use in mulling over it, and no use in blaming the nap either. It’s to be expected, after all, tea time is now every three hours.

Alhaitham’s collection of books is nothing to scoff at, in fact, you’re willing to wager his collection rivals those of academic archives.

How long did it take for him to gather them? What criteria must they fit to catch his interest?

Small inquiries bloomed through your thoughts as each journal slid back into its rightful shelves.

It can’t be helped. Finally, after four years, you’re now allowed past the threshold of his library. The last corner of the house which was wholly his. You’re allowed a glimpse into his sanctuary. The exhilaration from this privilege was enough to outweigh the tediousness.

Eyes switching back and forth between the two covers currently in your hands. So focused on deciding between which shelves to place them your ears failed to pick up the poised footsteps coming your way. It took a pair of adamant hands on your shoulders to wake you from these thoughts

“Why weren’t you at the door?” A familiar baritone voice.

Oh, you weren’t mindful of the time at all. Meeting teal irises as you glanced back over a shoulder, not missing the ghost of a furrow between his brow. Alhaitham isn’t one who’s fond of deviations from a practiced script.

“Sorry, sorry I got caught up in these books.” You couldn’t help but giggle.

Placing the books back down and spinning around, cradling his face between your warm palms, you carefully placed a kiss on his cold lips.

“Welcome home, Haitham.” You whispered against them.

Alhaitham hummed as his eyes closed, savoring the sensation of your warmth transferring to him. How unbefitting of such a noble creature, melting into the touch of a mere mortal. What a beautiful view to witness, so lovely in fact, a certain phrase clawed its way to the tip of your tongue.

“I...” You waited for his brilliant beryl eyes to reveal themselves again.

The soft trills of crickets creep in through the window, a call back to a night when an executive decision was reached by both parties to remove necessary lines from the script.

“… wonder if you collect books in place of company.” You’ll heed their warning.

There was a sigh that filled the distance between you.

“They’re great stimulants for the mind, perhaps you should read some.” No hesitation in his sardonic counter to your playfulness.

“Pfft! Haitham, I can’t read half of these languages.”

It’ll be redundant to reinstate such words into a script that wasn’t written for it no? A part of you wonders if the quip was supposed to be a diversion from the faint downward pull of his lips.

The windows were cracked ajar allowing the crisp night breeze into the sanctuary of the bedroom, the new air circulating through helped push out the stuffiness. However, Summer was always too hot for you.

“Haitham.” Under the glow of a waxing moon, your hands reached out.

Soon, the cool cheeks of your husband settled into the space between your palms, taking away the excess heat. You brought him closer, allowing your foreheads to touch.

To never be bothered by the polar extremes of temperature, how nice it is to be born of the supernatural.

“Mmm… It’s been a while, aren’t you hungry?” You broke the comfortable silence.

“I’m fine.” Two firm arms pulled you closer.

His gray lashes were still shut, concealing away the teal stained with hints of scarlet. A tell-tale sign. It’s about five years too late for him to lie to you. Like a stubborn child refusing to take his medicine, where did the arrogant vampire go?

It’ll be best to change tactics, everything must have its fair compensation, a principle Alhaitham follows to its core. Sliding your hands away from his face and down along the contour of his body as your face rests into the crook of his neck.

“It’s really hot tonight.” Warm palms sneaking under the barrier of a shirt.

There’s a hiss that sounds next to your ear as two hands firmly grasp your hips. Emboldened by his reaction, your hands continued to explore his sculpted frame, icy skin stealing away the warmth that smothered you. Alhaitham’s fingers kneaded your hips in contemplation. Moving closer to his ear, your breath ghosted over them.

“Haitham, can you make it go away?” The final push.

A deep growl reverberated against his chest, a sign of his surrender to your whims. A gasp is knocked out of your lips as your back meets with the plush mattress. This time two icy palms traversed the sweltering outline of your skin, goosebumps trailing behind his every touch.

You hummed at the sensation as his hands travel further up, pushing the troublesome fabric of your shirt out of the way, exposing your soft breast to the air. A moan slipped off your tongue as Alhaitham gropes at the soft mounds, placing a kiss in the valley between them, cold fingers playing with the nipples now perked.

Wrapping your legs around his solid frame, your hands tugged at the shirt that blocked your view of his godly body. A silent whine for him to take it off, and like the good husband he is, Alhaitham complies. In return, your shirt was also stripped from your frame, a fair trade. Cheeks stained red from shame your mind was too muddled to process, you blame it on the heat.

More icy kisses trailed along your chest and neck, as cool fingers sneaked under the waistband of your shorts. His icy touches land straight against your puffy lips, labia glistening with slickness. You flinched at the sudden temperature change against your pussy, and his hand twitched at the small surprise.

“Wet already, and nothing underneath…” Alhaitham’s baritone voice reports his finding against your ear.

“Mmm,” you sounded out, shivering at the combination of his voice and teasing fingers.

“How lewd.”

“You don’t like it?”

Instantly, a stiff mass was pressed against the softness of your thighs.

“Do I seem displeased?”

Entangling your fingers into ashen locks, you let a giggle flutter your chest against his. Two hearts beating on opposite sides. Shorts pulled off the length of your legs and kicked to the side, leaving you bare underneath his mercy.

Rolling your hips against his cool palms to generate some friction, your clit begging for an ounce of attention. A quick slap against the sensitive bud jolts your body as you moan, a swift punishment for your impatience.

As if to soothe the lingering sting, his fingers circle the bundle causing your legs to shiver as pleasure runs up them. Your folds release more of their essence, Alhaitham’s fingers collect it, tracing your entrance with fleeting touches. The heat engulfing your body was beginning to become too much, your walls clenching around nothing desperately. Your legs pull him closer, attempting to spur on the tempo.

Your feeble strength is nothing against his, Alhaitham effortlessly pulls away from your trap. A whine left your throat as even his ashen locks freed themselves from your grasp.

“Shh, let me have a taste first.” He pulls you toward the edge of the bed.

Vascular hands gripping onto your thighs, spreading them open to allow him unobstructed access to your dripping greed. A firm hold denies you the opportunity to slither away from the cool breaths hitting your pussy lips.

Alhaitham’s tongue teases its way between your folds, collecting your escaped honey into his mouth as he releases a satisfied grunt. Licking stripes along your pussy, cool lips brushing against your sensitive clit. Your fingers found their way back to his silken locks, the back of your hand blocking your mouth.

Objecting against your cruel act of denying him the privilege of your moans, a finger was abruptly thrusted into your soaked walls with a squelch, causing your back to arch off the sheets. Hand no longer able to withhold the sinful sounds from his awaiting ears.

Another finger soon makes its way into your gummy walls, sliding to curl against that one spot deep within before sliding out and repeating. All the while his lips closed around your delicate bud, suckling and abusing it with his brutish tongue.

He was supposed to cool you down in this unbearable heat, yet your body only burned more under his ministration. Your walls desperately clenched down as your fingers tightened their hold on his ashen hair, trying to find any perch for your sanity to cling to.

Your actions only spurred him on, harsh sucks to your swollen clit and fingers increasing their pace. He wanted to ravish you wholly, to leave you a mess beyond saving. White flashes shoot up your trembling legs still held apart by his iron grip. If he continues then you might really fall beyond the grace of help.

“S-slower.”

Your slurred speech must’ve made your words incoherent, as Alhaitham only added more force behind his movements. Your slicked walls clenched around his fingers as they continued to pinpoint your weak spot, the messy licks and sucks at your clit causing the knot in your core to grow tighter and tighter. Or maybe your husband is just too famished to know mercy.

Back raising off the bed, no matter how hard your fingers cling onto his hair and the messy sheets you couldn’t stop the fall off the edge as your eyes saw the back of your head. A broken moan resounded through the room. Hopefully, it’s too late for anyone on a late-night stroll past the open window. Every fiber of your being shivering and nerve overwhelmed with hot flashes of pleasure. All the while Alhaitham’s tongue never stopped its torture.

Laying bonelessly upon the ruined sheets, hands limp by your side. Your chest heaves trying to remember how to breathe as a large figure looms over you. Your quivering pussy reluctantly released his fingers as a string of slick connected them.

Unfocused eyes watch as your husband’s tongue cleans the essences off, making sure to clean every inch.

You felt so empty inside, the heat between your legs only escalating as your walls clenched around nothing. Was it the heat or pleasure that’s melting your mind? You don’t know and were too desperate to care. You wanted relief from the heat and judging by the hard shape pressed into your thigh, he needed relief too.

Wordless your nimble fingers reached down, curling over the waistbands of his pants and boxers you pulled them down. Finally freeing his cock, it slaps against his naval as the leaking precum spears across his exposed skin. Playfully, your finger toys with his swollen tip, gathering up the precum as a hiss leaves his clenched teeth.

Making sure to look directly into his piercing eyes, you brought the finger into your mouth. Swirling your tongue around the digit and then pulling it out from your lips with an audible pop.

Your shameless behavior earned you a guttural growl from Alhaitham, soon your hand was pinned above your head. His face was just inches away, the brilliant teal of eyes now wholly glazed over with crimson. Everyone is warned to never play with fire, but it’s just too addicting to resist.

“Brazen girl,” he snarls.

You countered with a grin, cheeks a deep red, but what’s there to hide from someone who’s laid you bare numerous times before?

Sucking in a gasp as his thick tip rubbed against your negligent folds, your leaking walls trembling with anticipation. Longing for the stretch only he could offer you.

“Beg.”

Of course, nothing ever comes easily when it comes to him. Self-control honed by years of experience, all held by the iron grip of his analytical mind. A battle you’ll never win, so it’s best to sacrifice your self-respect in favor of your aching pussy. A fool for pleasure, gone far beyond the point of saving.

“Please… I want you to ruin me… please ruin me.” Sinful words rolling off your tongue.

Words that finally snapped the last thread of self-restraint Alhaitham had, instantaneously his hips met yours. Your gummy walls, long ingrained in his shape, welcomed the familiar stretch, clamping down as a wet slap resounded through the room. Alhaitham pushed his cock in further, pinning your body deeper into the mattress, hissing at the heat that engulfed his length.

Your mouth falls open, pleasure shooting through overstimulated nerves, the bed creaking underneath you as his hips pulled away just to snap back. Setting a more punishing pace than usual, the bed shook in protest as your pussy welcomed each thrust, slick walls wrapping around his girth.

Moans flowed out of your mouth like how water flows through rivers, any semblance of embarrassment drowned out by molten pleasure. Two bodies connecting and mingling together to create a private heaven.

Alhaitham’s hand abandons its grip on your wrist in favor of getting more leverage on your hips, purple marks promising to appear in the morning.

Before your muddled mind could process it, icy lips crashed into your plush ones, a tongue crossed the line. Sloppy and hungry was how his mouth devoured yours. Tongues clashing and dancing as he shallows each moan of yours.

He pulls away momentarily as you took the opportunity to steal a few breaths. Scarlet-hazed eyes observe the transgression just committed before his lips moved back to reconnect with yours.

It��s clear he doesn’t give a damn about that arbitrary rule anymore. Why must forbidden acts always feel so good?

Free hands now found purchase on his broad back, nails digging into the smooth skin trying to balance out the onslaught of pleasure invading every fiber of your being. Legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper into the sheets with you never once interrupting his savage pace.

Your attempts at staving off your independent orgasm were futile, teary eyes rolling back as your walls clenched and your body shook.

Alhaitham released your lips in time to savor the broken symphony of a moan leaving your throat, the sheets underneath you a soaking mess, proof of your fall from cloud nine.

Despite this, your husband doesn’t slow down in the slightest. The sight in front of him only heightened the hunger in his eyes.

The solid oak bed frame swayed in time with the pistoning of his thrust, tight walls clamping down yet giving no resistance as his thick tip continued to bully that sweet spot. His chilly breath against your nape, tongue running a wet trail to prepare the area. Sensations your melted mind could barely register.

His fingers dig deeper into your hips as he pulls them flushed against his, thick cock pressing further into your wanton core.

A sharp prick shoots up your nape before the sensation of your walls being filled beyond capacity distracts from it. Your pussy pitifully attempts to suck in every last drop before succumbing, letting his essence join yours in making a mess of the sheets. Trembling hands run along his muscular back, pulling him closer to your heaving chest.

Your pants counted in time with the hands of a clock, shards of your sanity slowly returning to you as gulps moved down Alhaitham’s throat. With a satisfied sigh, his incisors released your neck, tongue lapping over the escaped drops of scarlet.

Slowly pulling away from your embrace, his untainted teal eyes scan over you. Hair fanned out behind you, chest still heaving, and cheeks still violently flushed. You must look absolutely ruined, just as you asked of him.

Carefully, he pulls out from your gummy walls, trembling walls allowed to gather their senses again. Detangling your legs from him with tender hands he repositions your droopy body comfortably along plush pillows.

Humming in gratitude as you rolled onto your stomach, face buried into the luxurious pillows which held his opulent scent. The aftermath of passion gradually faded away from recovering nerves. The space next to you dips down as his frame joins you, a cool hand resting along the curve of your back.

The soft sways of leaves in the night breeze, slowing pants, and the sweet lull of nothingness filled the air of this private haven. Two hearts, one mortal and one immortal, beating together.

“Would you want more time?” Came a question that broke the silence.

A hushed invitation slipped to you behind the watchful eyes of the divine. A lure towards deep waters by his beckoning voice.

Perhaps your curiosity has influenced him as well. All your innocent inquiries must’ve muddled the line, question after question brushing away at the definition until misunderstanding took its place.

This won’t do. Your time is too short and his time too precious to be wasted on miscommunication.

Since it was you who muddled the line, it shall be you who reestablishes it.

“I was born a human,” you began.

Pausing to enjoy the feeling of his cool fingers drawing unknown shapes into your back and the gentle vibrations of his hum.

“I will die as one.”

With those simple words, the line was once again clearly drawn in the sand.

Separating you from him, and him from you. Just as the laws of morals, nature, and this world dictated.

After all, it was you who said: “For a fraction of your time, I’ll give you all of mine”. Not the other way around. The price he’d have to pay is far greater than anything you’re willing to sacrifice.

No, you’re too selfish for that.

Under a waning moon, the market was lively tonight. Bright lanterns and stringed lights challenged the radiance of the sky’s stars. The twinkling momentarily distracts your mind from the cries of your muscles and the aches of your bones.

What a simple thing you are, or perhaps you’re just a human in the purest sense. So entranced by the beauty of a rose, it distracts from the sting of thorns.

Such drab comparisons have no place in your thoughts tonight.

As if to run away from them, your legs moved with volition, weaving in and out of the surges of crowds with clumsy grace, some haggling, some laughing, some yelling.

Glazing up at the moon above, it was as if she was following your every step, watching, judging the performance of this daydream.

It wasn’t long before the volition faded away as you slowed to a halt, lung greedily trying to hog all the air they could. A herbal scent found its way to your senses, a quick glance to your left confirms your suspicions.

It looks like your legs couldn’t carry you far enough in the end. Stopping right in front of a display of dried Kalpalata Lotuses, the moon must be laughing right now.

You weren’t sure which one tasted more bitter, the herb or the irony.

Straightening your posture back up, ready to push through the burn of your muscles once more before a cold grasp grounded you back into reality.

Whipping your head around, bewildered eyes connected with placid teal. There was a furrow in the brows that framed the hypnotic azure.

“Don’t go where my hand can’t reach.” Alhaitham’s atonal voice carried over the chatter of the streets.

Bringing your husband out of the house, only to then leave him alone in a sea of people. What a capricious wife you are.

Perhaps Alhaitham foresaw this exact situation, that’d explain the recent spike in his reclusiveness. Seeing this, a giggle bubbled up in your throat.

“Oh?~ Someone’s been watching my dramas. Where’d you learn that line from?”

As he sighs your giggles only increased, cold fingers loosening around your wrist.

“It’s exceptionally crowded tonight, be mindful of your surroundings.”

You simply nodded along, a sign to him that you’re only absorbing half of his words, another sigh from him and another giggle from you.

“A bag of Kalpalata Lotuses for the two of you tonight as well?” The vendor, ready with a fresh paper bag, intrudes on this raillery.

Your lips pressed into a thin line, silencing your giggles as your eyes trailed over the dulled hues of the dried herb.

Four hours went to three went to two and now down to one. Each cup becoming more and more unpalatable. There comes a point when a bucket can longer keep a sinking ship afloat, perhaps it’s better to gaze upon the starry night as one disappears under the waves.

“Actually… Padisarah tea tastes better, I want a bag of that instead.” A honeyed smile dawned upon your lips as you glazed back up at him.

Alhaitham parts his lips, a response ready to fall off his tongue, but he closes them just as swiftly. Returning a hum of acknowledgment at your request, handing over the mora in exchange for the bag of dried Padisarah.

Your attention has already shifted away from this scene, eyes avoiding the dull hues, finally landing upon wood carved with much creative liberty. There’s enough space for another sculpture no? It’d be nice to add more company to the home.

Before the muscles in your legs could budge, a hand twitched, reminding you of the loose hold still around your wrist.

A good partner should respect the wishes of their spouse. Warm fingers slide into the space between cold ones, intertwining like the lights above with the sky.

All it took was a soft tug for a human to move a vampire through the bustling crowd.

A common phrase uttered to unwell patients is ‘mind over body’.

However, there’s only so much the body can take before it rebels against the mastermind.

Even your own body had enough of your selfishness.

Protest taking the form of wheezes, lethargy, and that piercing ache forever present deep within. You were always the one to toe the line, pushing your luck to the limits and beyond, only stopped by a towering wall.

It’s time to lay rest under silken sheets and plush pillows. Something you’ve been doing very often these days. Perhaps your body is just practicing for the ending.

The cumbersome duvet fails to capture the wisps of warmth only a Sumerian Summer can offer, it fails to prevent the chill from penetrating deep into your every bone.

Dull senses alert you to a shift in weight on the mattress. Fighting against the leaden weight of your lids, you opened your eyes to the sight of your husband.

Ashen hair slightly trussed and button down wrinkled as his frame lays next to yours. He must have come here straight from the door, a once-practiced tradition slowly faded away much like strength from your limbs.

The muscles on his face relaxed, neutral by default, yet his eyes were downturned much like the corners of his lips.

Your husband must be deep in thought. His thumb is digging into his palm again, it seems that Alhaitham has developed a new habit. Hazy eyes carefully focused on how the nail threatened to break the surface of his palm.

That’s no good.

Ignoring the exhaustion, you slipped your fingers in between his, shielding his palm from the assaults of his thumb, settling into a gentle embrace as two rings clinked together.

The weight of a teal gaze centers on you.

“My husband is such a handsome actor.” Breathy voice barely a whisper.

Chest protesting against your action with wheezes, but you needed to finish this script, it's what a co-star should do.

“You don’t have to play this role anymore.” Exposing your neck to him as your lashes fluttered shut, it was time to pay your dues.

Much like the clauses written on parchment signed by two names, the ending of this script must be followed, your body already taking its cue.

At least the doctors were accurate this time, how punctual your body is.

A brisk breath brushed against your nape, skin reacting with a trail of goosebumps as you feel the presence of sharp incisors draws near before grazing against your delicate neck. Your mind counts back, ready for the final pierce of pain to come.

Three… Two… The pressure of his fangs disappears from your skin. Replaced by the touch of gentle lips.

Opening your eyes with confusion and lost anticipation, you were met with stoic eyes.

“You don’t have to hold yourself back.”

“I’m not holding myself back,” Alhaitham answers without the slightest pause.

Your chest wheezes once more at your lung’s clumsy attempt at gathering a breath.

“What a silly vampire,” you giggled, the crimson hues were obvious even to your dimming vision.

After the numerous questions you asked and the innumerable answers he gave these past seven years, you still couldn’t fully comprehend him. Neither of you were the masterminds you thought you were, huh?

In the end, both of you were fools trying to perform a stage play.

Your mind ponders this revelation as Alhaitham tugs the covers up your body, gentle hand running along your body through the thick fabric barrier.

The faint ticks of a clock pull a buried secret from the guard sanctuary of your thoughts, dusting off the obscurity to reexamine the details in full clarity.

What was the end of the path like? Well, just like the scene blocked off by a garden wall under that moonless night, it’s all the same.

Maybe tonight you’ll tell him the truth.

What was over that wall? With its stones piled high and with moss creeping through its crevices, a wall that only creatures born within the grace of an undecided god could peer past. What did it conceal?

Nothing.

A nothingness so empty, ultimate peace could reside.

Seems like you’ve discovered something new in the end, you shameless fool. Death is nothingness in the end, a nothingness that fingers pass right through.

So instead of holding on to nothing, you’d rather grasp a cold hand as nothingness envelopes you. He didn’t seem to mind.

You wanted to tell this to the creature who humored your daydream for all these years. If he doesn’t want your blood then you could at least impart this priceless insight to him.

Oh, it’s such a shame that your tongue just won’t move anymore. Instead, you’ll offer him a smile. In hopes that Alhaitham could decrypt the curvature of your lips with his seven years of experience. To translate your silent message into a language known to man with his lifetimes of wisdom.

It’s all you could do to thank him for holding your hand as the dirge of Summer crickets fade out and the last first rays of a grieving sun kiss the horizon. The final wisp of warmth escaping down your cheek.

Fin~

©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.

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artificial-transmutations · 7 months ago

Text

Friday Friendship

Hey there! This one is kind of a spiritual successor to Calling the Plumber - and as such, it is one of the rare gay to straight stories of mine. While I do try to keep it friendly and without any homophobia or hate, feel free not read the story if you don't like g2s!

It was hard to overlook Montgomery and Archibald. Of course, that was always the case. But here, on the dirty construction site of their new home, the expensive silk suits of the couple stood out even more than elsewhere. Yes, the two of them were together - and they made sure everybody knew it. Not only were the two gentlemen standing in a tight hug whenever possible, but their flamboyant and colorful clothing left little doubt about their sexuality.

They were those kind of gays that conservatives were afraid of. Both were old enough to have been alive during the stonewall riots, although only Montgomery was actually there as a teenager. Still, the aged couple embodied everything the gay community prided itself on having achieved during the last decades.

Their house, too, would be a statement. The mansion was the largest construction in the area, and the most expensive one. It was going to be built on a large hill, overlooking the town, and its style was... extravagant. The house was to be built in a modern architectural style, but the two men had insisted that the walls would be entirely covered in rainbow colors, although that was still in the future by now. Surrounding the mansion would be a magnificent garden, a park even.

"My dear, are you satisfied with the construction?" Archibald asked his husband in his lime green suit. Montgomery had dyed his hair in an orange-pink tone today and wore a purple tie to his green suit. It was hardly the first building site he visited, since he had made a fortune in real estate.

Archibald, on the other hand, was a bit more conservatively dressed. His suit was a more subdued shade of beige, although his tie was of a bright sky blue color. He usually didn't dye his hair, and today was no exception: He wore the gray with pride, although he spent a fortune on hair and skin care products. He, too, had a respectable job as a top manager in a logistics company.

"Well, darling, I'm not sure yet." Montgomery replied. "I want it to look great, and the work has been good so far. But frankly, it feels that the workers motivation is somewhat underwhelming."

"I think I know what you mean, my dear." Archibald commented as they walked through the empty shell. "It is barely three in the afternoon on a Friday, and there isn't anyone around anymore. The workers must be out partying already. I can't fault them for that, but it is rather annoying, isn't it?"

"Indeed. It would have been nice if they were a little less lazy, though. The garden is behind schedule, and I believe the electrics are going to be delayed by another month."

"That is quite unfortunate."

Montgomery nodded and they walked a bit in silence. It was true. There was still a lot to do, and it looked like the workers left early for the weekend.

Finally, Archibald sighed.

"I guess I could take a look at the progress the electricians are making. I do know a bit or two about this. Maybe then we can talk to the foreman about their work. It's a pity that we cannot supervise every little thing here, but our jobs demand a lot of our time. If only we had a bit more hands-on control."

"My, what a fabulous idea! I will take a stroll through the garden then, to get a better picture there."

The husbands kissed each other on the lips as they split up and Archibald opened the fuse box. He had indeed done a bit of electrical maintenance in his prime, so he knew that what he saw in the box was nothing less than a mess. He sighed and was about to close the box again, but hesitated. No, he couldn't leave the mess like that. He would just tidy things up a bit, to show those inexperienced workers how it was done.

Carefully, he began to work on the wires, but before long, he felt uncomfortable. The fuse box was located in the bright afternoon sun, and it was just positively hot here. Still, not wanting to leave his work, he slipped out of his jacket and hung it over a nearby wall. He didn't notice that the piece of clothing disappeared once he turned away, nor did he notice that his hands became nimbler as he rearranged the wires.

Montgomery on the other hand found the garden construction even less advanced than he had hoped. Even worse, someone had left a few plants out in the heat. They would surely be dead by the time the construction continued on Monday. Montgomery couldn't let that happen. This garden would be beautiful, and no plant would die under his watch.

He carefully carried the plants to the place they were supposed to be. Of course, he knew - he had planned the park all by himself, so he knew where everything was supposed to go. As he arrived at the shady place, he understood why the plants hadn't been placed yet. The ground was wet and muddy, and there weren't any holes yet. He would need to talk to the foreman about that, but the man was surely already in the weekend as well. There was, however, a shovel nearby. Now, aside from ceremonial groundbreaking, Montgomery had never held a shovel. It wasn't that he didn't understand the concept, but he was just not the type for physical labor.

Well. He looked over his shoulder to his husband, who was apparently still busy looking at the fuse box. It seems like he had some time on his hands, so he might as well. Grimacing, he grabbed the shovel and carefully stepped on the soil, trying not to ruin his expensive shoes or pants. That worked well, for about two steps. But as soon as he tried to break the ground with the shovel, a big clump of wet soil splattered on his lime green silk pants.

Montgomery frowned. Well, that suit was ruined anyway. No reason to stop there. Determined, he pulled the shirt out of his pants and opened his vest. He wasn't going to ruin his custom tailored suit for no reason.

Meanwhile, Archie was getting into his work even more. From time to time, he had to wipe his brow, though, as he was sweating like an animal. His dress shirt was stained with multiple sweat stains already and didn't really *look* like a dress shirt anymore, but more casual. The same could be said for the rest of Archie as well. A certain youth had returned to his face, as he was concentrated on his work. This way, he didn't notice when his hairstyle dissolved into an unkempt mess or when a bit of stubble grew in on his chin. His shirt clung to his body now, drenched in sweat. It had long ceased to be a dress shirt though but had become a plain - although rather filthy - beige t-shirt. His tie was nowhere to be seen.

Due to the wetness, the shirt didn't leave much to imagination regarding his body. Not just his face had rejuvenated, no, his entire body had. He was leaner and his muscles firmer now. Out of the V-neck of his sweaty shirt poked a few golden hairs, and before long, his main hair had turned into a Nordic blonde, as well.

Meanwhile, Monty was digging like crazy. He had to get those plants in the ground, or the foreman would... Wait, what was he thinking?

He stopped for a moment, to scratch his head. Thinking was not his strong point, and Monty knew that. But he had other qualities, that made up for that. When he grabbed the shovel again, to keep digging, he heard a ripping sound that made him stop again. The shoulder of his shirt had ripped. His boss was going to kill him! Although, it appeared somewhat strange to him that he was wearing such a colorful and impractical shirt. Perhaps there weren't any other shirts left?

He looked around and saw only one of the electricians still on the site. He knew the guy, he was friendly enough. He surely wouldn't mind if Monty went shirtless for a bit. With an effort not to damage the clothing even more, he peeled out of the garment. He was only half successful with that, and a few more rips sounded before he had finished taking it off.

Monty looked down at his muscular and hairy torso. The cold air was good, and he wasn't afraid to get dirty.

With every movement of the shovel, his arm muscles tightened, and his frame filled out more. A short beard sprouted on his chin, and his now full earthy brown hair shortened to a more practical cut. It wasn't like he had money for an expensive hairdresser, after all.

Finally, he had the holes ready and wiped his hands on his sturdy pair of work pants. Now, he only had to put the plants in. Despite his impressive physique, Manny was always very careful with the flowers, and he made sure that none of the roots got damaged or that he didn't break the stem.

He looked at his work. Good, that would look great, once the plants grew. Someday, he would have a garden of his own, and a house like that. And a beautiful wife and two, no, three children. But that was still a long way to go, with his poor pay.

Someone behind him cursed and Manny looked back to the electrician.

Chad was still sweating like crazy as he worked the wires. His mates had all gone to the clubs by now and he was stuck here and had to fix the mess he had created. That was only fair, but he wished the foreman wouldn't have noticed until Monday. He had to hurry up, though. He didn't want to spend his Friday night on the site, after all. Perhaps he would even get lucky and find a guy... No, what was he thinking? Working on these fruits' house had made him all confused. No, perhaps he would find a busty bombshell to take home tonight. Chad felt his cock growing hard at the thought, creating an obvious bulge in his work pants. Great, more distraction.

Chad tried to readjust himself, just in time as he sensed the big burly gardener approach. He knew the guy loosely but had forgotten his name already - if he even had known it at all.

"Hey, everything alright with them wires?" the low voice of the brute asked in a friendly tone.

"Yeah, I just need to finish up here... Should be done aaaaany minute now..."

Manny watched Chad connect the last wires. Poor guy. His t-shirt was soaked with sweat, and he looked like he was really hot and stressed out.

"Cool. It's no fun working late, and on a Friday. Hey, do you want to hit a bar after that? I could go for a cold one."

Chad looked over his shoulder at the bear of a man. Was that guy hitting on him? Na, his face only showed dumb innocence.

He shrugged. "Sure, why not, eh..."

"Name's Manny." Manny said.

"Great. Manny." Chad said and closed the now somewhat better looking fuse box before wiping away his sweat once more.

"I'm Chad."

Manny and Chad left the building site together this Friday afternoon. Neither of them knew that they were going to become best friends over this and many more beers. Manny turned out to be a great wingman for Chad, and Chad even ended up as Manny's best man during his wedding and godfather for his first child. Sometimes the closest friendships are forged in the Friday afternoon sun of a construction site.

#male transformation #muscle transformation #dumbing down #sweat #gay to straight #age reduction

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invisible-lint · 7 months ago

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Everything Could Be Okay: Prologue

Andras x Reader

Summary: a prologue for what will be a Rhys x Tamlin's sister!reader

Warnings: angst! very brief mention of pregnancy loss

Word Count: 1,078

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

You knew you were already too late. You could feel it in the ache of your legs. The pounding of your heart. The breath panting through your lips as you race through the trees. He had made his decision, sending another to tell you, worried that seeing you again would change his mind. You knew that you couldn’t stop him, but perhaps you could at least say goodbye.

Your dress catches on a branch, tearing, but you heed it no mind as you keep running as your destination comes into sight. Two sets of eyes fall upon you.The green eyes of your brother, filled with pity. The gray eyes of your husband, filled with regret. Your brother nods before stepping away, giving the two of you the moment you so desperately need. You throw yourself at your husband, clinging to his tunic, the silver that had been rimming your eyes finally spilling over.

"Don't do it. Don't leave me," you sob.

He says nothing, gently brushing the tears away from your eyes, somehow managing to keep his own at bay.

"Andras. Please," you beg.

He speaks finally. "You know I must. For the Spring Court. For Prythian."

"To Hell with the Spring Court! To Hell with Prythian! I need you!" You pause for a moment, voice growing soft as your hand finds your stomach, cradling the babe growing inside. "We need you."

He places a hand over yours. "That's why I must go. There is so little time left and I will not let my child live in a world that's been corrupted by Her. I cannot bear the thought of it. It may be a fool's errand but it is the only thing that I can think of that might save our child. Save you."

You nod, a fresh wave of tears leaving you unable to speak.

He holds you for a moment, wishing it could be different. Wishing there was a way he could protect you without sacrificing himself. A way to live and see his child born. But there was not and so he must. He breathes in deeply, taking in your scent for the last time and kisses you on the forehead before stepping away and nodding at the other male.

Somehow, you manage to stay on your feet as he leaves you, watching the magic that transforms your love. You walk over to the wolf that stands in his place, placing a hand on either side of his muzzle before pressing a parting kiss there. The wolf gives you one last longing look before slipping through the hole in the wall.

You drop to the forest floor as your legs finally give out, sobs wracking your body. Your brother sinks down next to you, pulling you into his arms, holding you tight. As if by holding you he could prevent the shattering of your heart.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, voice cracking. "I tried to talk him out of it. Tried to convince him to stay..."

You ignore him, too focused on your own broken heart to listen to him try to make himself feel better. He picks you up then, standing to carry you home. If you can call it that anymore when such a vital piece of it is now gone forever.

You were in the gardens the day he died. Wandering aimlessly, fiddling with the gold ring hanging on the chain around your neck. You felt it as he drew his dying breath. Perhaps you had been mates after all. Perhaps this was as close as you'd ever get to feeling that bond, that golden thread that would never be, emptiness filling your chest as you sink to the ground amongst the roses. If it had snapped, could you have convinced him to stay? Could you have convinced him that you needed him, needed the other half of your soul? A hollowness fills your chest where you had always imagined the bond might form linking you to him. But it never did. Emotions burn in your throat, and somewhere someone screams. It’s a raw, primal sound filled with grief. Could that be you? You’ve retreated so far into yourself that you don’t even know anymore. Your hand falls to your stomach where it will swell with child, curling around yourself to protect the babe, as if this grief is an enemy you need to protect them from.

You’re not sure how long you lay there, curled in on yourself, feeling everything and nothing at the same time. You knew this day was coming. He may as well have been dead the day he crossed the wall and went into the human lands. You press his ring to your lips, the gold band cool from the night air.

It is not your brother who finds you, but Lucien. He picks you up, carrying you into the house that no longer feels like a home. He carries you to your room, tucking you into your bed. He sits next to you, stroking the hair back from your face just like your mother had when you would wake from a nightmare as a child. But there was no waking from this one. He tells you how Tamlin is already going to find Andras’ killer to see if his death has brought the hope we so desperately need. You pray to the Mother, hoping that it hasn’t all been for nothing. And as your eyes grow heavy, the grief finally dragging you down into sleep, you hear as Lucien softly sings a lullaby his mother sang to him as a child.

Months have passed when you wake with a start, tears streaming down your face. You'd dreamt of the forest again. Of losing your love, your home, your soul. Your dream followed him into the mortal lands, to where the human girl had shot him with the ash arrow. You had asked her about it, needing to know. Needing to know if he had been in pain. If he had suffered.

Your hand falls to where your child should be growing, letting the tears stream down your face as you stare up at the canopy of your bed. He had done it. Andras had been successful and now the rest was up to your brother. He just had to get the human girl to fall in love with him and your husband's sacrifice would not be in vain. Everything you lost would mean something. And maybe, one day, everything could be okay again.

Chapter 1

A/N: This is my first fic with more planned! If you liked it feel free to send a request!

Thanks @azsazz for inspiring me to give fic writing a try!

divider by: @tsunami-of-tears

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #maasverse #fanfiction #imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #andras x reader #rhys acotar #rhysand x reader #acotar fic

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seungrem · 10 months ago

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Huening Kai x m!reader

‘Finishing What We Started’ ~*+

summary: After male!reader gets promoted to work for an idol group, he catches a particular boy’s eye. As no-one seems to suspect the two, they spend some time alone while on a retreat.

( idol!kai x intern!reader, smut kinda, top!kai x bttm!reader, mutual feelings )

emoji code:

🧸 ( lil bit of fluff )

🌱 ( oneshot / short story - around 4.5k words )

❄️ ( smut, +18, minors DNI )

☁️ ( stands for y/n )

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

A long breath emitted from the mouth of a young man. Holding a small stack of tan files, he looked himself up and down in front of an office of frosted windows. His gray dress pants were neat, his sneakers pristine, and his white button-up complimented his gray ‘B.H.’ vest nicely. After deeming himself ready to enter, he took a step forward and used his free hand to knock, him then pushing his boss’s door open.

“Ah, ☁️. Right on time, per usual.” The boss stood up and greeted ☁️, who greeted back and very carefully placed the small stack of files onto the boss’s desk.

“Hello sir, this was requested yesterday. I thought I would take care of it for you.”

As the boss sat down in his gray suit, ☁️ stepped back to stand between two very nice chairs with green cushions. The office was somewhat large with dark blue carpeting, glass walls, and many desks that held achievements and framed papers.

“I admire how hard you work, ☁️. And because of that, I have a gift for you.”

The boss smiled and pulled a tan file from under his dark brown desk, pieces of paper inside of it. The boss took the papers out and turned the top one around to face ☁️. The boy leaned in to read it.

‘Personal assistant? For a boy group? .. This was supposed to be a gift?’

“I’m sorry sir, I don’t quite understand.. You want me to be a personal assistant?” ☁️ frowned at the sight of the paper, him looking back up to his boss.

“Oh don’t give me that look, this is a great opportunity for you! This is a relatively new group, and they have been climbing the charts for the past year and a half. It’ll be great for you! I promise.”

“Well.. are you going to find a new intern then?” ☁️ felt as though he was being demoted. Who would want to be a personal assistant?”

“I don’t think so, with your help our department has been ahead of schedule and paperwork. If I ever need you back here with me, I’ll just call you over.”

“Do I have an option?”

“☁️, you’re going to be getting paid well! You’ll be making more than some of the people working in this office.” The boss held the weight of his chin on the back of his right hand, as if he was thinking hard.

“Here, I’ll give you a deal. If you last a week helping this boy group, and still don’t like it by then, I’ll talk to our department ‘heads about a different promotion opportunity. The last personal assistant for this group got promoted too quickly, which made things hard for the group’s current staff.. though, now she works alongside me.”

☁️ nodded in understanding- the boss’s tangent was slightly convincing. He liked the idea of going from an overworked, unpaid intern, to a simple assistant who got paid well. Seemed easy enough.

“I understand, I think that I’ll take your deal. Thank you for.. this opportunity.” ☁️ smiled awkwardly.

“Great! I’m so happy that you’re agreeing to this, ☁️. You’re going to do so well, and not only for yourself. You’ll be of tremendous help to this group and their manager. I know it.”

The boss put the papers back into the tan file and handed it to ☁️. Unsure that he made the right decision, ☁️ thanked his boss and placed the file under his arm.

“I expect great things! I’ll see you soon, take care.” The boss nodded his head and ☁️ said his goodbyes. Taking his leave, he wondered how a personal assistant would be so significant in this group’s success. Slowly closing the glass door, ☁️ walked toward the elevator. After working for four months as an intern, he was now “promoted” to a personal assistant. At least now he’d be earning a salary.

After taking the elevator down to the ground floor, he stepped out into the majestic lobby and walked to the reception desk. With floors and walls of marble, there was lots of tapping from people going about their business. Walking toward a large, dark brown desk., he waved to farthest left secretary. She was a tall young woman with dark black hair, a person who had quickly befriended ☁️ during his first few days as an intern. The two spoke often, but ☁️ would always forget her name.

After chatting for a few minutes about ☁️’s meeting with the boss, the secretary became ecstatic.

“You should be happy, you’re spending time around a big idol group! That’s great!”

“Yes, I hope I’ll grow to like it. Do you end your shift soon?” ☁️ looked around to make sure there was nobody waiting in line to speak to his friend.

“I do, would you like me to check you out of work for the day? I was going to do the same in a moment.”

“That would be great, thank you! I’ll hopefully see you soon.” ☁️ took a step away from the counter he was leaning on.

“Of course, see you later.” The secretary smiled brightly and the two waved to each other.

☁️ approached the large, glass doors as beautiful oranges and pinks faded into each other over the sky. He stepped out into the city engulfed in warm tones, bustling streets ahead of him.

“You do know you’re an hour and a half early , right?”

☁️ stepped onto the stone staircase of a large cottage, located in the middle of the countryside. A large, wooden fence overgrown with pink flowers and tall grass surrounded the property. ☁️ looked around at the bight yellow sky, the sunrise illuminating birds and pink clouds. Turning around, ☁️ clutched his small bag and began up the stairs. His eyes quickly adjusted to the dim light inside the stone house.

A man in all black, including a black mask and hat, stood in front of the doorframe. He took off his hat and placed a hand on the door.

“Hello, yes, I know I’m early. I figured it would be best to come at this time.” Behind the man in black he saw other people in black running around. Many were carrying things such as equipment, dishes of sorts, and cloth materials.

“You figured correctly. I’m the staff director here and it’s a pleasure to have you join us.” He led ☁️ through the small building, the two dodging other staff members setting up skinny poles and cameras. “I heard many things about you, so i’m glad to have you join us.”

☁️ mentally rolled his eyes at the comment.

“It’s a pleasure.” The boy said as the two stopped at a table in what seemed like a dining room. The table had even more equipment scattered over it. The director called a name out and two women turned their attention from the table to the director and ☁️. The director introduced the two to him. The morning quickly began with many introductions, though ☁️ only could recall about half of them.

After a half hour of introductions and explanations, the director sat ☁️ down at the small dining room table. He explained that there wasn’t much that he needed ☁️ to do other than provide personal assistance to the idol group. Thus, the director instructed ☁️ to simply wait outside for a black van.

With a sigh, Cat sat on a small ledge of the house, waiting for what he assumed to be the arrival of the group. The sky was now clear and bright blue, the sounds of leaves and tall grass rustling filling the silence. After a few minutes, a large black van pulled into the dirt road. ☁️ watched from the steps as two older men dragged suitcases out of the vehicle, five younger men climbing out and stretching. Unsure of what to do, ☁️ walked over to the two older men.

“Hello, I’m the personal assistant for the group. Did you need help with the suitcases?” ☁️ held his hand out, prepared to grab a bag or two.

“Hello, I’m their manager, and we will take care of this. The boys have been complaining about being tired, though. Can you take them to their rooms? Make sure that they know all but one of them are sharing. We will decide where they sleep after filming.”

It was then and there that ☁️ realized that he didn’t know why it is that he was there.

‘Is this a music video set? Or maybe this is just for a retreat?’ the boy wondered to himself. His boss at the company building had informed him of who the group was, but of course he had forgotten their name.

He nervously walked over to the 5 tall boys, them all carrying a backpack. One of the boys had two backpacks, both of which seemed heavy.

“Oh, are you from another group? I thought we were filming a ‘To-Do’ here..” A tall boy tilted his head to the side, visibly confused. ☁️ was confused by his confusion, him furrowing his eyebrows unintentionally.

“I’m sorry?”

“Are you an idol?” The tall boy asked again.

“Oh, no. I’m here as a worker. I’m supposed to be your personal assistant.. or something like that.”

“Oh, okay.” The boy was tired, and ☁️ could sense the same feeling from the four behind him.

“I was instructed to take you to your rooms, so please follow me.” ☁️ felt awkward about their conversation, feeling that it was going to be a long day. The boys were ready to follow him, but ☁️ walked up to the one with two bags, him taking one of them and throwing it around his shoulder.

“I’m ☁️, by the way.” He said, beginning down the dirt path to the cottage. The five followed behind, slowly walking up the stone steps as if their energy was being spent with each step.

The staff weren’t running around at this point, most of them sitting around or talking to each other. Everyone stopped what they were doing as the six boys stepped inside. ☁️ smiled awkwardly, the boys behind him quickly greeting everyone. The room began to fill with ‘hello’s and ‘welcome’s as ☁️ led the group to the other side of the house. They arrived to a dimly lit, narrow hallway. There were three frosted glass doors, natural light emitting from the inside. ☁️ thought about the director’s quick tour, him pretty sure this was where their rooms were.

“The manager said that there are three bedrooms, so only one of you will get your own room. He also said that I’m not allowed to let you pick where you’re sleeping.”

The boys all grunted, clearly annoyed with the staff. They all looked at each other, and then back at ☁️.

“They said it was fine if you rest, though. So you can pick them now, just understand that it’s temporary.” ☁️ spoke formally to them, watching as they looked to each other again.

“How do you want to split up?” A boy with big eyes asked, looking around.

“I’m getting my own room, you guys can figure it out.” One of them stated, walking past ☁️ toward the room directly down the hall. Another one of the boys gripped his shoulder, pulling him back.

“No, you and Taehyun can share.”

The group began bickering about the room toward the end of the hall, though one of them stood behind and looked at ☁️. It was the boy who had two backpacks, him seemingly about to fall asleep standing up. ☁️ looked back at him, both mesmerized by his beauty and a bit worried.

“Uh, all of the rooms have two beds. Why don’t you get some rest.” ☁️ opened the door behind him, holding it for the tired boy to walk through. The room was a decent size for such a small cottage- the beds were a few feet apart with a nightstand in between. Wooden floors held beige walls with a few small paintings. Above the bed on the other side of room sat a large window with see-through lavender curtains. A beautiful view of a large garden with flowers of pink and purple added to the scenery of the blue sky. On the other side of the room, a large wooden dresser sat against the wall.

The boy muttered a ‘thank you’ and threw his bag onto the floor. He fell onto the bed, resting his head opposite from the window and toward the door. ☁️ softly placed the heavy bag from around his shoulder next to the bed, then dragging the dropped one beside the nightstand.

“Are you really our personal assistant? We haven’t had one in a while..” The boy mumbled as he laid on the bed, eyes closed. ☁️ walked to the bed on the other side, which was only a few feet from the boy’s.

“What makes you think that I’m not?” ☁️ asked jokingly. A cool breeze flew into the room, brushing against ☁️’s cheeks and neck.

“You’re attractive. And not wearing a mask like a lot of the other staff.” The boy paused. “That’s why Soobin thought you were in a group. I think.”

☁️ was taken aback by the idol’s comment, it making him blush and become nervous at the same time. Analyzing the boy’s soft features, ☁️ realized that he still didn’t know their names.

“Thank you, you’re attractive too. What’s your name?”

The boy opened his eyes and lifted his head. He looked at ☁️ sleepily. “You don’t know our names?”

☁️ choked on his words, a bit embarrassed. “I do.. I’m just bad with remembering them. I’ll know when you remind me.”

The boy laid his head down on his arm, looking at ☁️. “You can call me Hyuka. That’s what they call me.”

Two of the other members busted into the room, Hyuka immediately pretending to have fallen asleep.

“He’s already sleeping?”

☁️ recalled that the tall one was Soobin, but didn’t know who the one with the middle part was. He looked over to Hyuka, who continued to “sleep.”

“Yes, he just fell asleep.” ☁️ stood up, walking away from the bed so that Soobin could place his bag down.

“I’ll just room with Taehyun, then.” The other said, ☁️ following him out of the room and shutting the door softly. The other boy walked into Taehyun’s room across from Hyuka’s, and shut the door.

Now that ☁️ was warming up to the group, he felt better about the time he was going to spend with them. He walked down a few halls to the living room, where the staff director watched a tiny camera being installed into a corner of the ceiling.

“Excuse me.” ☁️ said, standing behind him.

“Ah yes, are the boys resting?”

“Yes, they are. Is there anything you need me to do now?”

“You should rest for a while too. You were here super early. Take the extra bed in one of the rooms and I’ll grab you when we film tonight.”

☁️ felt as though this ‘personal assistant’ job was unproductive. He sighed and nodded, grabbing his bag from a chair on the dining room table. The director followed behind him.

“☁️,” The director tapped the boy’s shoulder as he picked up his bag. He turned around quickly.

“This job.. it may seem fruitless at first. These ‘To-Do’ projects are mostly just a break for the immediate staff, which you are considered. Enjoy your leisure time with the boys before you become a lot more occupied during the promotion projects.”

☁️ understood his position now, him thanking the director for the explanation. The two parted ways, as ☁️ returned to the narrow hallway. He walked all the way down, opening the door very slowly as to not wake the boy sleeping. To his surprise, one of the boys and Soobin slept peacefully across from each other. Retracing his steps, he lightly shut the door and walked over to Hyuka’s room.

Hyuka snored loudly, causing ☁️ to assume that it bothered Soobin. ☁️ walked over to his bed and placed his bag down. He then grabbed a pillow, and walked to Hyuka’s bed. He placed the pillow beside Hyuka. Gently lifting the boy’s heavy head and shoulders, he quickly slid the pillow under. Hyuka’s snoring stopped, and he repositioned himself in his sleep.

Relieved, ☁️ walked over to his bed, passing out as soon as he climbed into it.

A pair of hands lightly shook ☁️’s shoulder. Slowly opening his eyes, Hyuka was on one knee in front of the bed. Behind him, the curtains blew a soft breeze into the room. White clouds flew across the bright blue sky as ☁️’s upper body rose from the bed.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Wanna go for a walk?” Hyuka stared into the boy’s eyes, almost without emotion.

“I’m not sure..” ☁️ rubbed his eyes and threw the blanket off of his legs. He looked over to the window, the bright atmosphere meaning that there was still time before they filmed.

“..let me make sure it’s okay with the staff director.”

Hyuka nodded and stood up, him then walking over to his bed and sitting. ☁️ stood up, grabbed his phone, and opened the door.

“I’ll come with, so we can just leave after.”

Hyuka stood up immediately and walked over to the door, holding it open as the two talked.

“What if he says no?” ☁️ raised an eyebrow. Hyuka smiled at the action.

“You’re our assistant, I command you to go on a walk with me.” Hyuka smiled flippantly, ☁️ rolling his eyes as he walked out of the room.

“That’s not how this works.”

Hyuka looked over to ☁️, grabbing his arm. Since the film director had left to his hotel, the manager had given them permission to leave for a bit.

“Be back in a half hour, please.”

Hyuka dragged ☁️ by his arm out of the cottage door, him only letting go when the door was closed behind them.

“Why did you want to go on a walk again?” ☁️ looked around at the nature surrounding the two.

“There’s a path over here. The others were still sleeping, and I really wanted to go.” Hyuka looked from the sky to ☁️, his eyes asking permission to begin walking down the steps and toward the path.

“Lead the way.” ☁️ said with a light smile. The two quickly made their way down the stone steps, and through the grass to the other side of the house. There was a wooden gate blocking the entrance to the garden, which Hyuka power walked over to. ☁️ assumed this was so that he could open the door for him, which he did.

☁️ laughed at the action and thanked him, Hyuka just nodding shyly. The two walked through the bushes and large patches of flowers, ☁️ pretty much following Hyuka as he wandered around. Eventually the two found a bench next to a small bird fountain. ☁️ sat after Hyuka, with their backs now to the cottage.

“We can see our room’s window from over here.” Hyuka turned around to look back at the cottage, ☁️ following his action. The boys gasped as they saw two heads looking at them through the window. Once spotted, those two heads jumped out of view.

“Who’s in our room?” ☁️ asked, somewhat annoyed.

“I think it’s Beomgyu and Yeonjun. They’re nosey.” Hyuka got up and took a few steps to the left. He turned around, motioning for ☁️ to follow. The two walked toward the end of the garden, where the path that Hyuka was talking about was located. It was a narrow dirt path surrounded by tall trees. Sunlight broke through branches above, illuminating small parts of the path. Hyuka once again opened the gate for ☁️, the two then walking side by side.

☁️ would occasionally look over to Hyuka as the two walked in silence, Hyuka occasionally catching his gaze. Hyuka’s face didn’t display an ounce of expression. His lips were sealed, and he was faced forward, aside from when he looked at ☁️.

After a minute or two of walking aimlessly down the path, ☁️ thought to himself out loud.

“I didn’t think idols were this.. nonchalant.” He looked over to Hyuka, who immediately glanced back to him, furrowing his eyebrows.

“What do you mean?” Hyuka responded, ☁️ noticing that he seemed almost offended by the comment.

“I just meant that you’re so.. nice. That’s the impression you gave me, anyway.” ☁️ stopped as the two arrived at the end of the path. A large opening in the trees displayed large green fields and mountains. The two were very high up, though it didn’t seem like their elevation was increasing as they walked. A brightly lit bench sat in a dirt area directly in the middle of this opening, large rocks surrounding the ledge.

Hyuka stood next to ☁️, visibly choking on his words. ☁️ felt bad for almost laughing at him, so he grabbed Hyuka’s arm and led him to the bench a few feet in the distance. The two sat facing each other, with ☁️ to the left and Hyuka to the right. ☁️ watched as the sun’s golden rays stretched across Hyuka’s soft skin, the boy finally finding his words.

“You’re nice, too. Idols.. I guess they get a bad reputation. You should get to know me more.” Hyuka looked from the beautiful view to ☁️. “I wanna get to know you more, anyway.”

☁️ was now the one at a loss for words. He wasn’t sure if Hyuka was just being nice or flirting with him. The two boys now staring at each other, Hyuka became embarrassed.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to be..”

“No, no, no. It’s fine, you’re fine.” ☁️ didn’t want to give him the wrong impression, and it was clear that Hyuka thought that he made things awkward.

“I’d like to get to know you more, too. You’re sweet.” ☁️ placed a leg on the bench seat and turned his entire body to face Hyuka. The two smiled playfully, leaning into each other.

“Glad we’re on the same page.” Hyuka placed his left arm behind ☁️, as he leaned closer. ☁️ now understood what Hyuka was trying to say. After a few seconds of him processing, Hyuka’s face was only inches away from ☁️’s.

☁️ used his pointer finger and thumb to hold Hyuka’s chin, directing the boy’s lips over to his own. Surprised by his own actions, ☁️ titled his head and placed an arm around Hyuka’s neck. Hyuka responded by placing his left hand under ☁️’s thigh and lifting the boy onto him. With ☁️ now brushing against Hyuka’s torso, the two made out passionately, Hyuka kissing sloppily. Hyuka slowly slid his tongue into ☁️’s mouth, him then doing the same. Their tongues softly brushed against each other as ☁️ ran his hand through Hyuka’s hair, Hyuka gripping his ass.

After a minute, ☁️ lifted his mouth away from Hyuka’s to catch his breath. Hyuka furrowed his eyebrows at the action, placing his lips on ☁️’s neck and kissing gently as a substitute. ☁️ rubbed his hands up and down Hyuka’s chest, panting as he felt the boy’s kisses turn into bites.

☁️ pushed Hyuka’s head away softly, the two looking into each other’s eyes for a moment. Hyuka’s straight hair swayed as the breeze began to pick up.

“Don’t leave marks. If they find out th-”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Hyuka lifted the boy again, adjusting so that ☁️ sat on his hard bulge. ☁️ began rotating his hips on Hyuka as they quickly returned to each other’s lips. Hyuka roughly anchored ☁️’s waist to his hips as he thrusted into him.

Hyuka was bulkier than he looked, and his chest was a fondled through his black shirt multiple times as ☁️ couldn’t get enough of it. As Hyuka’s thrusts became more aggressive, ☁️’s kisses got sloppier.

☁️ occasionally opened his eyes while they made out, the boy noticing that Hyuka’s skin became a bright orange color. ☁️ pulled away from the boy, removing his arm from his around neck and turning to face the sky. It had turned bright orange, the low, pink clouds lingering as the sun was beginning to set. Hyuka wrapped his arms around ☁️’s waist, continuing to feel down the boy on top of him. He looked up expectantly with soft eyes, but ☁️ only let out a troubled sigh.

“We should start heading back.”

☁️ gave Hyuka one last and sudden kiss as he lifted a leg off of the boy. The two now sat on the bench again, in silence.

“Did you know this was over here?” ☁️ looked over to Hyuka, who glanced back as he wiped his face.

“No, it’s our first time in this side of the city.”

☁️ wiped his face and nodded in understanding, him then standing up. Hyuka followed his actions, though he had to readjust the bump in his crotch area. ☁️ smiled at the boy as he shifted his pants around, Hyuka smiling back in embarrassment. His print wasn’t super noticeable in his jeans, anyway.

The two hurried out of the dirt area, and down the path as the forest began to get darker. Hyuka broke the silence after a few minutes.

“Why did you ask if I knew that the bench was there earlier?” He looked over to ☁️, though the dimness of the forest made it hard to see his facial expressions.

“No reason.”

“My intention wasn’t to.. you know, do that. With you.” Hyuka kept his gaze on the boy next to him until he responded.

“I believe you. Though, I think you wanted to do a little more than get to know me.” ☁️ smiled, knowing Hyuka wouldn’t be able to see it. Hyuka grabbed ☁️’s arm firmly as they continued walking.

“No, I want to get to know you. Seriously, I like you.” Hyuka’s voice became whiny, as through he was once again offended by ☁️’s words.

“I’m kidding, don’t worry.” ☁️ removed Hyuka’s grasp from his arm, and instead interlocked hands with the boy. “This won’t be able to go anywhere, though, you know that right?”

Hyuka remained silent for a few seconds, ☁️ sensing that he was unsatisfied with the comment.

“Why not?”

“You’re an international popstar and idol. Did you forget that?”

The two noticed the light from the cottage ahead. By this point, the sky was bright purple, only a few orange clouds still remaining.

“I can make it work. I’ll just hide you.”

☁️ rolled his eyes, though he thought it was cute how seriously Hyuka was taking their conversation.

“Okay Mr. Idol.”

Hyuka let go of ☁️’s hand to walk ahead and open the wooden gate’s door for him.

“Where have you two been?”

The boy with the middle part walked into the living room just as Hyuka and ☁️ did.

“Which one’s this, again?” ☁️ asked jokingly, though he didn’t actually know the boys name.

“You work for us and don’t even know our names?” He exclaimed, his ego visibly hurt.

“That’s what I said.” Hyuka smiled at the face the boy was making- his mouth was open ajar and his eyes were practically squinting. “Fix your face Yeonjun.”

Yeonjun glared at Hyuka, then looking over to ☁️ expectantly. “Well, where were you?”

“We went for a walk down a dirt trail.” Hyuka responded.

“And what’s on your neck?” Yeonjun lazily pointed to ☁️. The boy froze and looked at Yeonjun, then to Hyuka.

“A branch.. fell on him. On our way back.” Hyuka said with a perfect poker face. He broke the facade when he smiled awkwardly to ☁️, almost as to ask for help.

“Yea, the winds were really, well, rough. It didn’t hurt.. but I bruise easily. I guess.” ☁️ held a hand over the bruise and brushed his fingers over it.

“Right..” Yeonjun turned his gaze to Hyuka, who smiled innocently at him. Another boy entered the room, ☁️ not knowing this one either.

“What took you guys so long?” He said, walking into the open kitchen area.

“☁️ has a bruise on his neck.” Yeonjun yelled to him. Huening muttered the word ‘asshole’ under his breath as the boy in the kitchen looked at ☁️.

“Come check it out, Taehyun.” Yeonjun yelled again, trying not to smirk. Taehyun walked over to ☁️, Yeonjun motioning toward his neck. ☁️ hesitantly pulled down his top’s neckline so Taehyun could see it clearly.

“How’d that happen?” Taehyun looked to Hyuka, concerned.

“He got hit by something flying in the wind. We couldn’t see well because it got dark.” Hyuka responded, his voice monotone.

“You said it was a tree branch.” Yeonjun snarled.

“I never said that.”

“You just said that?!” Yeonjun furrowed his eyebrows in both anger and confusion.

“No I didn’t.”

☁️ decided to play Hyuka’s game by teasing the boy. “Yeonjun, are you okay?”

Taehyun looked at Yeonjun and sighed. “The staff will be here soon. Maybe you should rest some more before they come.”

“I should beat you.” Yeonjun grabbed Hyuka’s shirt as Hyuka laughed at him, Taehyun grabbing Yeonjun’s arm and dragging him away.

“☁️, follow me so I can put some ointment on the bruise.” Taehyun said as he and Yeonjun walked away. Yeonjun grilled ☁️ about whether or not Hyuka talked about a branch. ☁️ just shrugged, which made the boy go feral and walk away from him and Taehyun.

Taehyun knelt on the bathroom tiles as ☁️ sat on the toilet. The idol carefully applied a cream over the bruise as they sat in silence.

“Alright, all done.”

“Thank you.” ☁️ said as the two stood up. Taehyun placed the cream tube in a small bag. He didn’t turn away from the bag, though he opened his mouth, hesitating to speak. ☁️ noticed and waited for him to do so.

“You should be careful, ☁️. Please, no more branches falling on you. Or Huening Kai.” Taehyun must’ve understood what was going on, ☁️ catching on quickly.

“It won’t happen again.” ☁️ muttered feeling embarrassed. Taehyun also sensed his embarrassment.

“At least don’t make it obvious.”

☁️ nodded, Taehyun finally turning to him and smiling. The two left the bathroom and walked down the hall just as the staff arrived with large duffle bags.

“We’re filming in 10!” The staff director yelled.

The filming lasted around 2 hours. The concept of the video was simple, and ☁️ sat behind the camera alongside the director, manager, and other staff. Simply watching the boys in silence, ☁️ occasionally adjusted his hoodie to cover the bruise, or played with the black mask around his face.

The five idols were each given a mission on a piece of paper. They had to find a specific object, though their papers only contained riddles and hints to the other boy’s objects. Soobin and Taehyun quickly shared the hints to each other, leaving out the other three. Beomgyu and Yeonjun teamed up against Hyuka, leaving the boy without any hints. Hyuka wandered around the house, not sure what it was he was loookign for.

Irritated, he gave up and walked over to his room, lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling. There was a camera hidden in the room, the staff laughing at Hyuka’s behavior.

The staff director snapped his fingers at ☁️, who immediately turned his attention to him.

“Deliver these papers to Huening Kai, please.” He whispered as Beomgyu and Yeonjun had walked into the living room. ☁️ looked at the papers and stood up, them all containing a hint to Hyuka’s item. ☁️ walked over to the room, knocking before entering.

Hyuka was surprised to see ☁️ walk in while they were filming, him lifting his body up to sit and face the boy. Hyuka’s face was red and his eyebrows were arched, making him look mean. ☁️ simply handed the papers to Hyuka, and tiptoed back to where the manager sat on the floor.

Eventually, Hyuka found his item before the others, his prize being that he got to have a room to himself. He knew he was temporarily sharing that room with ☁️, which made him express less agitation towards everyone.

The team began to pack the cameras and equipment away to head back home. The five idols were staying behind as the next few days were their mini-vacation.

As ☁️ grabbed his bag from Hyuka’s room, the group’s manager approached him. It was just them two, as Hyuka was still in the living room helping the staff. Standing in the doorway, the manager knocked on the door to catch ☁️’s attention.

“Hello, ☁️. Please feel free to decline the offer, but one of the boys asked if you could stay with them for the retreat. It’s only a few days, and the entire week will be paid. It’s up to you.”

☁️ recalled that his boss gave him a week to work with the group before he could be considered for another position. A week working while also on a retreat sounded great.

“I’ll accept. I just need a ride to the hotel to grab my other bags.”

“I’ll have someone drive you, please come with me.” The manager nodded, motioning ☁️ to follow him. On his way out behind the other staff, Hyuka grabbed ☁️’s arm and squeezed.

“You’re going to stay, right?” Hyuka asked in a low-pitched voice. He was clearly still upset.

“Yes, I’m just grabbing my stuff.”

Hyuka let go of his arm, watching motionlessly as the staff made their way outside. The sky was now pitch black, and light drizzle filling the air.

“☁️.”

“Yes, Hyuka?”

“What’re you doing.”

“I’m just scrolling through social media. Why?” ☁️ turned to face Hyuka as the two boys laid in silence.

“Can you come over here?” Hyuka was lying on his back, once again staring at the ceiling above. Rain droplets lightly tapped against the window beside him. ☁️ rolled his eyes and continued scrolling.

“Why, Hyuka?”

☁️ waited for a response, only to hear Hyuka sigh heavily. He looked over, seeing the boy turn to his side to face the wall. ☁️ turned his phone off and placed it on the nightstand, him then walking over to Hyuka’s bed. He placed his body down behind the boy, wrapping an arm around his torso. Hyuka turned to face ☁️, their bodies only inches apart.

“You still upset?” ☁️ removed his arm from around Hyuka, placing his hand on Hyuka’s chest instead. Hyuka pressed his hand on top of ☁️’s, guiding it along his pecs.

“I’m not.”

“Good.”

Hyuka placed a hand on ☁️’s waist, slowly moving that hand down to his ass. ☁️ felt his body heat up, which resulted in him once again grabbing Hyuka’s chin.

“Wanna finish what we started?” ☁️ asked, Hyuka then pulling the boy’s body into to him. Without saying a word, Hyuka climbed on top of ☁️ and placed himself in between his legs. The two locked lips and let their tongues run loose into each other. It didn’t take long for Hyuka to thrust into ☁️ again, though the thrusts were much more aggressive than earlier.

After another minute or two, Hyuka removed his shirt, revealing his muscular pecs. He smiled at ☁️’s reaction, him then tugging lightly at the boy’s pants. ☁️ was quick to kick the pajama pants and underwear off, watching as Hyuka’s mouth came closer and closer to his cock. Hyuka stroked it for a few seconds before shoving it into his mouth, quickly bobbing up and down. ☁️ couldn’t help but occasionally moan at the sensation. Grabbing Hyuka’s hair, he thrusted upwards into his mouth.

After a while, Hyuka pinned ☁️’s body down to the bed with one hand. He lifted his mouth off of ☁️’s cock, a trail or two of saliva following it. Hyuka then climbed off of the bed to take off his own pants and underwear. Hyuka’s legs were muscular and well defined, surprising ☁️.

He watched as Hyuka climbed on top of him, sitting directly above his chest. He stroked his flaccid cock for a few seconds before placing it right in front of ☁️’s mouth. ☁️ opening slowly, Hyuka waisted no time to thrust into it, making him choke almost immediately. ☁️ pushed the boy away to catch his breath, though Hyuka put it right back in. ☁️ was now the one bobbing his head on Hyuka’s length, which grew much longer as he began using his tongue. Hyuka ran a hand through ☁️’s hair, gripping the boy’s head to make him suck faster. Hyuka softly moaned, clearly enjoying the boy’s mouth.

He pulled his dick out and moved to ☁️’s side, Hyuka then flipping the boy onto his stomach. ☁️ got on his hands and knees, arching his back slightly as Hyuka positioned himself behind his ass. He grabbed ☁️’s shoulders and lifted them upwards so that the boy’s back was against his chest. ☁️ could feel Hyuka’s chest brush against his back as the idol’s big dick twitched in between ☁️’s ass cheeks. Hyuka leaned into the boy, turning his head and locking their lips together. The two rubbed their hips against each other as ☁️’s body became even hotter. ☁️ removed his lips from Hyuka’s and placed the boy’s hands on his waist. Hyuka placed his lips on ☁️’s neck, kissing on it once more. He grabbed his dick, smacking it against ☁️’s ass a few times.

“Ready?”

BONUS

“I thought idols weren’t supposed to get any action.” ☁️ laid on his back with only a tee shirt and underwear. Hyuka rested his head on ☁️’s chest with an arm around the boy’s body, wearing only sweatpants.

“We don’t.”

“Then how’re you so good?” ☁️ slowly ran a finger through Hyuka’s hair. He felt the boy shrug against his body, Hyuka clearly becoming sleepy. ☁️ rolled his eyes as Hyuka closed his, with the company the two provided each other easing them both to rest.

“Goodnight, ☁️.”

☁️ smiled as he continued playing with the boy’s hair.

“Goodnight, Hyuka.”

- 🫂

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

a/n: kai fic woooooo

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unmotivatedwrit3r · 1 year ago

Text

Cloudy Christmastime

damian wayne x reader x jonathan kent

(A/N): Before anyone protests, I headcanon the Wayne family as celebrating both Jewish holidays like Yom Kippur and Hanukkah as well as Christmas and Easter because yes, Bruce is ethnically Jewish (though may have done Christmas as well) but Dick/Jason/Tim/Steph would have likely celebrated Christmas. So they do both.

Anyway, this is a christmas gift for @glorified-red and literally the 5th take on this fic bc they first said Hallmark movie, then damijon hallmark movie, then whump. And then it took me three tries to get something I was close to happy with so I hope you enjoy. This ended up being a mix of domestic fluff and h/c.

warnings: sensory overload

wc: ~2600

“Tell me again why Santa doesn’t bring us gifts if he’s real. Like our dads have met him. And he still doesn’t bring us presents,” Jon lamented from the couch, bundled up in four blankets.

From your spot on the floor by the tree, you looked up, an eyebrow raised in amusement. “Because we’re not kids anymore? And how do you know Santa ever brought us gifts?”

“Perhaps,” Damian added, passing Jon a cup of hot chocolate. He placed a second cup on the coffee table and lifted one to his lips. “He only brought gifts to people to make a point. I never received any from him as a child but father has gotten many over the years.”

Jon listed to the side, head landing on Damian’s shoulder. “I think that’s worse.”

For the first time in a while, Jon felt Damian’s huff of laughter more than he heard it. Your small chuckle was similarly inaudible. Jon hated solar flaring. Not only was it a pain to deal with for the day and change—one could argue he got either lucky or really unlucky by solar flaring the morning of Christmas Eve—but it always threw his senses out of whack as they trickled back in. And, with the gray skies of Gotham’s winter, Jon was expecting it to be even weirder than usual. It was worth it though, to him, in order to spend the day itself with his partners. It was enough that the Kent family Christmas Eve was ruined by Lex Luthor. He wasn’t going to let his Christmas day be ruined too.

“I’m sorry, mi sol,” you offered with a shrug and a smile. Jon met your grin with his own. A full-body shiver wracked his frame. Your gaze turned concerned. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jon agreed, “Just chilly.” Damian’s arm wrapped further around Jon, pulling their sides flush against each other. Jon maneuvered the blankets away to soak in his warmth.

“Ameli, we can turn the heat up,” Damian offered.

“Nope,” Jon argued, nuzzling into Damian’s neck. “This is good.” Damian’s resulting huff of air teased at the hair on the top of Jon’s head.

“Mi luna?” You asked from the floor. Damian turned to look at you. Jon followed, eyes traveling over the mound of presents arranged under the tree. There was a pile around the back of the tree against the wall for Damian’s family (Jon still needed to give Dick his gift from the Hanukkah celebration a couple weeks ago. The blue dreidel paper was obvious against the sea of brown, red, and green wrapping paper.), and a smaller one for yours. The empty gap left behind after the Kent Christmas was already filled in with a large box Jon was like ninety percent sure was a new easel for Damian. You ordered it, not him, but Jon couldn’t think of anything else on any of your lists that was even close to that size. “Can you hand me that please?” You gestured to a precarious stack on the coffee table.

Damian acquiesced, passing over a teetering pile of vaguely book-shaped items. Who those were for was anyone’s guess. Jon was grateful Alfred had helped you and him pay for some of the gifts for Damian. Looking at the gift tags, it otherwise would have been horribly uneven. And Damian himself wouldn’t have minded, Jon knew, but you and him would have been upset about it anyway. He deserves the world, your rohi. Damian pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of you, still arranging presents under the tree. He showed it quickly to Jon before texting it to him immediately.

“This look okay?” You asked, peeking out from behind the tree. Jon looked it over. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for exactly, but he also wasn’t exactly the reigning opinion on artistic presentation.

“It looks fine, hayati” Damian said, eyes still trained on his phone. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“You didn't even look.”

Damian turned to look at you. “Because I knew it looked fine, beloved.” His eyes scanned the presents. “And it does.”

You shook your head at him, exasperated, before conceding and sitting heavily on the couch. Scooching in, you nearly pressed up against Jon’s other side.

“Come closer,” He whined, untangling a hand from the blankets to grab yours. “You’re warm.”

Jon could feel the look exchanged over his head.

“I’m not that warm,” you argued even as you grabbed the TV remote from the coffee table and arranged the blankets so that you could fit underneath. “You’re just cold.”

Jon shrugged. The hand that wasn’t holding yours reached underneath Damian’s shirt and he swore, grabbing Jon’s wrist to keep its chill away. Another look passed over Jon’s head. He wondered sometimes if the two of you were aware he knew what you were doing and just didn’t care. Probably.

“Are you sure you’re okay, amorcito?” You asked. Jon shrugged.

“It’s cold outside and I’m human but otherwise yeah. I have you two,” he added smugly. Damian’s playful shoulder hit came at the same time as your muttered “sap.” Jon grinned. “So because I’m sick—sort of—I get to pick the movie. And we’re watching Santa Claus is Coming to Town.” Despite the protests on both sides, the movie was playing before Damian could even get up to turn the lights off. To the side of the couch, the lights on the Christmas tree bathed the room in a soft white glow.

Jon awoke to a cold bed. On a good day, he’d wake with the sun—or whenever it wormed its way through the bedroom’s black out curtains—or to an international emergency. Okay, not that the emergency was good, just that he was feeling good enough to know it was happening. On a bad day, all bets were off. Jon stuck his hand out of the covers, searching blindly for his phone. After a moment of finding nothing but the wood of the end table, the scratchiness of the sheets was unignorable and he gave up, flinging back the covers to get out of bed. Hanging over the side of the dresser was a dark red sweatshirt. Jon grabbed it and tugged it on, rubbing his arms to get the lingering echo of the sheets off his skin. His off kilter super hearing zeroed in on the crooning of Michael Bublé before zooming back out into the general background noise coming from the kitchen. Jon winced, squaring his shoulders. That was a bad sign. But it was Christmas; he’d be fine.

A quick squint at his phone told Jon that it was just after noon. No wonder the bed was cold. Jon shivered, then grabbed a pair of your fuzzy socks before opening the bedroom door.

The smell of cinnamon and chocolate coming from the kitchen was pleasant rather than unbearable. Jon let himself breathe it in as he approached quietly. He didn’t even notice you behind him—though that was often true of an average day—before there were arms around his waist and a head on his shoulder. He let himself lean back into the warmth of you.

“Merry Christmas, mi amor. How are you feeling?” you inquired. Hot breath ghosted across his neck. Jon shrugged.

“Fine. Excited for today.” He spun around to face you, eyes taking in your christmas pj pants and sweater with a Robin logo. Over your shoulder, Jon could see flashes of blue, likely Damian’s nightwing sweatshirt. “Merry Christmas,” he added, tucking his nose into the spot just underneath your ear for just a moment. No matter what his super senses were like, he took comfort in the smell of the two of you. A hand weaved through his hair, a kiss pressed to the top of his head. Jon pulled back just enough to give you a peck on the lips before being spun around into a kiss from Damian.

“Merry Christmas, my heart,” Jon muttered, pressing a second lingering kiss to Damian’s jawline. A steady heartbeat pulsed under his fingers, wrapped around Damian’s wrist.

“Good morning,” Damian said, wrapping an arm around Jon to keep him close. Jon blindly reached out and a second calloused hand found his. A second warm body curled around him. He missed your heartbeats’ song in his ears, but Damian’s pounding steadily under his ear and yours fluttering underneath his fingertips was good enough for right then. “Are you alright?” Damian continued. “It’s late.” His voice was echoey underneath Jon’s ear and Jon flinched instinctively. The two of you reacted immediately, pulling back.

“Jon?” you asked, voice laced with concern.

“Yeah,” he managed. “I’m mostly good. About as expected, you know?” Jon offered up a smile. By the looks on your faces, it didn’t do as much reassurance as he’d hoped. “I’m sorry I slept so late.”

“Don’t apologize,” Damian argued. “There is no reason to.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Jon sighed.

“How are you feeling about breakfast, mi sol?” You asked, tangling your fingers with his.

“Sounds good,” Jon agreed.

“Oh yeah I should definitely send Dick a text to thank him. And also say Merry Christmas,” Jon said, flopping down on the couch after breakfast. With his partners looking happy, Christmas music in the background, and a breakfast of vegan pancakes in his stomach, Jon could almost forget about the buzzing under his skin.

“Tt,” Damian scoffed. “He would have swapped with me anyway. Gordon and Father are both working tonight so it was pointless for him to have the evening off.”

Jon shrugged. “Still, doesn’t hurt to say thanks.”

“Say hi from me too,” you yelled over the running kitchen sink. After a moment more, the water shut off and Jon released a silent sigh at the absence of an irritating bit of noise. He was lucky the x-ray vision hadn’t started acting up. Not only was that like the antithesis of Christmas presents (his mom kept presents out of the house or in a lead box until morning for that very reason), but it was also a huge pain and the hardest to hide. Screwy touch and hearing was more than enough. Dishware clanked around in the kitchen as Damian sat beside Jon on the couch.

“No change?” He asked, reaching for a Nightwing mug of cider on the coffee table.

Jon shrugged. “Nope, nothing yet.” Damian narrowed his eyes and Jon attempted to start coming up with excuses. At the very least, he could probably get Damian to leave it alone until after gifts. Less so if you noticed too and started teaming up on him.

“Ready for presents?” You asked, sitting down on the other side of Damian. You raised the untouched Superman mug to your lips, eyes scanning over Jon.

“Yes!” Jon butt in before you could say anything. “Let’s do it.”

You and Damian exchanged a look. On the floor below, the elevator dinged, releasing a family with a horde of kids. “Okay,” you conceded, standing to grab the first load of presents.

In the apartment directly underneath, the front door squealed open. A load of presents was slammed down on the floor beside him. Three kids squealed “gramma!” in unison. Jon’s hoodie was all of the sudden suffocating him.

Jon jumped up and yanked the sweatshirt over his head, pawing the sleeves off before yanking his socks off too. He didn’t care where they ended up. His hands went up to press against his ears. Stumbling over his own feet, Jon meandered backwards until his back slammed into a wall and then slid down, knees up and head with ears still covered in between them. Sounds zoomed in and out. All of the sudden, he could hear Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer playing eight floors down, then A Christmas Carol on someone’s TV across the street. Focus! Jon yelled at himself through all the noise. One steady beat came into focus, then another.

Until there was a soft item brushing his feet, Jon didn’t realize he had company. A steady beat pulsed in his ears, too loud even for its familiarity. He pulled the blanket close. Something plastic nudged his shoulder and Jon grabbed it instinctively, slamming special-made headphones over his ears. The sounds faded down into something manageable. Jon took a deep breath. And then another. He didn’t need to hear to know that the two of you were there. When he reached out tentatively with his sense of smell, the usual wave of cinnamon-vanilla-brown sugar-clove and somethings just the two of you tempered by pine and peppermint was comforting rather than overwhelming. Jon let it wash over him, clutching the soft weighted blanket to his chest.

When he cracked his eyes open, two blurs blinked into focus as his partners, leaning against the back of the couch and hands linked. Damian’s head rested on your shoulder, one of your hands tangled in his hair. Jon noticed as soon as Damian saw he was up. He almost slammed his head into your chin as he shot up and Jon huffed a laugh.

“Ameli?” Damian asked. Your eyes locked onto Jon’s.

“You guys shouldn’t sit on the floor,” Jon responded. “It’s bad for your backs.”

You offered Jon a hand, ignoring his remark completely. Jon’s chest ached. If you weren’t willing to banter, he’d scared you. “How are you feeling?”

Jon took the hand and stood, adjusting the headphones so they stayed on his head. He tossed the blanket over his shoulder and reached his other hand out towards Damian before tugging the both of you up and towards the couch.

“I’m okay,” Jon reassured you, sitting down on the couch. “I promise.” When neither of you moved, he tugged you both down on top of him, interrupting the bat-assessment written all over Damian’s face.

“Promise like this morning?” Damian argued. Jon winced.

“Okay, yeah maybe I shouldn’t have—”

“Been a self-sacrificial dumbass as if we don’t a) know you and b) want you to talk to us?” You cut in. Jon could read the hurt underneath the anger clear as day. His fingers brushed over two sets of knuckles, one scarred from years of fighting without protective gear, the other dry from the winter air.

“I know. I just wanted today to be a good day, you know? We never get uninterrupted holidays.” Jon resisted the urge to pull his hands away from yours and curl into himself. The two burning gazes on him were ones of love and concern, though, not judgment.

“And for some reason you think accommodating you makes the day worse, why?” Damian asked. Jon didn’t have an answer.

“We love you, Jon. Eres nuestro pareja. We picked ‘partners’ for a reason, yeah?” You squeezed his hand in yours.

“Yeah,” he agreed, head dropping to your shoulder. Silence was heavy in the room for a moment.

“You choose what we do next,” Damian stated, tugging the blacket from its bundled blob to instead cover you and Jon.

Jon moved from your shoulder to halfway on top of Damian, tugging you on top of him. “You guys are going to squish me in between you while we watch a movie and then we can do presents?”

You shot him a wicked smile. Jon shrieked as Damian pulled him bodily half on top of him along the couch, cut off when you landed nearly on top of Jon.

“Good?” You asked. Jon let himself sink into Damian, arms coming up to wrap around your waist.

“Yeah,” he said. “Good.”

Damian grabbed the remote. “We’re not watching Elf.”

Jon stuck his tongue out at him.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x reader x jonathan kent #damian wayne x reader x jon kent #jon kent x reader #damian wayne x gender neutral reader #damian wayne #jonathan kent #jon kent x gender neutral reader #emerson writes sometimes

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sweetbillwriting · 5 months ago

Text

In The Dead of Night

FIVE

Characters: AU Eric played by Bill Skarsgård from The Crow (2024)

Setting: This story is set in A WHOLE OTHER WORLD than the movie. Shelley isn't a part of this story. Eric will be different from the movie, especially because I haven't seen the movie.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

“Ehm… Well, it's not much to look at…” He said with a shoulder shrug when we walked into his apartment. It looked like an old storage space but was lightly renovated to be used as a studio apartment. It was quite big but had a cold feeling with the brick walls and concrete floor. The only thing that contrasted with the grays and browns was the wall opposite the windows. It was full of graffiti, both really great ones and bad ones. There was a cool one of a smoking racoon, but someone had sprayed over the joint with a badly painted cock. Against that wall stood a big king-size bed with black silky sheets. The luxury feeling of the bed didn't fit in, and I wondered if he had it like that to get girls into it more easily. I looked at him while he hung up both our coats on a metal hanger that fit with the industrial feeling of the apartment. He moved smoothly and gracefully, but it was something that made him look boyishly nervous, like he was fourteen showing his room to a girl for the first time. That he would be a player didn't feel right, even if he had the looks for it.

“Have you lived here a long time?” I asked so I didn't need to comment on how it looked.

“Two years, I think,” said he with a shoulder shrug and walked in on purple ankle socks. I hadn't taken off my Dr. Martens but felt a need to do it when he walked around in his socks.

“Do you want something to eat?” He opened the fridge and looked up and down in it with pursed lips. I smiled to myself by his sweet ways and walked up to his side when my boots were off. “An omelet?”

“No thank you, but have something if you need to.” I looked up at him with a smile, and he looked at me with those big green eyes I've dreamt so much about. I felt a sob in my nose and throat that wanted to come out and make me ugly cry, but I swallowed it down and smiled even broader to cover it up.

“Nah, I shouldn't…” he said and shook his head, closing the fridge. Instead, he took a leap and jumped up to something in the high ceiling. It was a silver bar, and easily he pulled himself up and down without a complaint. If another dude had done something like that, I would just immediately think he was trying to impress, but Eric was harder to read. He could also just have a need to do it. Something had made an addict look like a Calvin Klein model. Either it was steroids or it was a need for excessive training.

He jumped down lithely and moved to the green couch that stood in the middle of the room in front of the TV. He turned to me and scratched his neck.

“You can take the bed if you want.”

I could see that he wanted to be a gentleman and say that, but the couch was just a two-seat couch, and something told me his height, and that couch didn't add up. I giggled a little at his pained face. He really wanted to be that great guy, but it was like he already could feel the pain in his back.

“I'll take the couch…” If you don't want me to sleep in the bed together with you, I continued in my head. In my dreams, we slept in the same bed many times, but now I didn't even get to sit on the edge of it.

Eric laughed a bit embarrassed when he saw my teasing expression.

“Thank you,” he said, but then gathered a cover and pillow from his bed and gave them to me. He walked to a dresser, and I could see how he searched for new sheets.

“I don't need a change of sheets. It's just a night. And it's time to go to bed for both of us.”

I held the cover tightly in my hands like I was afraid he would pull it away from me. He looked at me a bit confused but just nodded. He didn't seem to understand that I actually wanted to sleep in his used sheets. I just wanted to smell him and hopefully take some of his heavenly scent with me home in my hair.

I saw in the corner of my eyes him strip down to just a pair of black boxers, and I took my chance to look at him when he turned his back on me. Even his back was perfect. Okay, the barbed wire tattoo was far from perfect, but on him everything was perfect. I looked at the muscles shift under his pale skin and how great the boxers sat over his ass. I just wanted to bite one of those juicy cheeks.

I had sat down on the couch, watching him when he turned around and showed of abs and a muscular chest.

“Do you want to borrow a t-shirt to sleep in?”

I wanted to ask if I could wear the one he had worn that night, but instead I just said yes to his question. He gave me a big white t-shirt which I changed into with my back against him. I didn't feel shy about my body in front of him because, for me, we had already done that bit. I just turned around because it felt more natural than showing my tits to him while he crawled down in bed.

I turned around when I had his t-shirt on along with my simple black panties. He smiled a little from where he was lying under his cover, but I couldn't interpret what it meant.

“Weird thing, but is it okay I have the radio on? I can't sleep without it,” he asked and sounded uncomfortable. I had heard others needing to have sound in the background while they sleep. Like a man my mom told me about who needed to have the vacuum cleaner on, anything to drown out their anxiety. We had laughed at that man, but looking at Eric, I didn't feel a need to laugh at all. I knew more about him than he had told me and could imagine what kind of anxiety he had.

“Of course, sure, it can be cozy,” I said sweetly to make him relax. He smiled a little surprised by my words and nodded.

He had the sound louder than I had thought, and I listened to a debate about the use of oil in the world. I didn't know if he was already asleep, but I knew he couldn't see me, so I sniffed his sheets and dragged a hand over my own chest. If I could, I would have laid down next to him, but Eric acted so polite to me that it didn't feel right to be so forward. With another guy, I might have done it, but Eric didn't feel like the type that would be happy to suddenly have company in his bed.

×××

I hadn't noticed when I fell asleep and I woke up with a jerk. I remembered exactly where I was and who I was with, and that made my problem feel even bigger. The alcohol had made me sleep heavy like a rock, so I hadn't noticed when the red fluid had run from between my legs and down under me. I could feel the sticky mess between my thighs but also knew that I obviously had a stain under me, a stain on Eric's green couch.

I didn't know what to do because if I stood up, it would probably cause even more of the blood to run out of me, and I didn't have any panties to change to either. For a moment I just sat there and let the panic grow inside me until I started to cry out of anxiety.

“Oh my god…” I said lowly to myself, between the heavy tears. I couldn't see any solution to my mess and sat frozen under Eric's black cover.

“Hey… Are you okay?” I could hear a raspy morning voice say from the side of the room. If it wasn't for my panic, I would have appreciated how sexy he sounded, but now I couldn’t help but cry.

“I'm sorry…”

Eric stood up from bed groggily, like his muscles didn't remember to hold him up, and looked at me with big, worried eyes.

“Do you want to go home? I can get you a cab. I can… I can stay in bed if you want your privacy. I've done that all night. Promise. I promise.”

He stood with his hands up like he wanted to show he was unarmed, and his facial expression was anxious. I looked at him and realized he thought this moment was just as hard as for me but for other reasons. He thought I had panicked when I realized where I was. He was afraid I would accuse him of something.

“We didn't do anything. We just slept. Like really slept, ehm…” He dragged his hands over his hips nervously over and over.

“No, no, I know that, Eric. You can be calm; it's just…” I started to sob again, and Eric's first reaction seemed to be to sit down next to me and comfort me.

“No! No! Don't sit down!”

Once again, he raised his hands. I took a deep breath.

“I've got my period and… It's everywhere. On your couch too.”

He looked at me with big eyes and sat down on the coffee table in front of me.

“Oh.”

His short answer made me feel awkward, and I started to cry again.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry for destroying your couch-”

“No, no.” He interrupted me and gave me a calming smile. “It's okay shit happens, but… How can I help you? Do you need something to wear? Do you have tampons?” He said it so relaxed and kindly that I couldn't do anything else but smile.

"Yeah, I have some in my purse, but… Everything is bloody…” I said embarrassed and dragged my hands over my face, showing signs of my crying.

“I don't have panties…” he said with an awkward chuckle. “But can I offer you a pair of my underwear and a pair of pants?”

“Yeah, that would be kind but… There's blood everywhere.”

“Trust me, I've seen worse. I’ll look away while you go to the bathroom, and then I’ll leave the clothes and your handbag outside of the door so you can just take them. Ehh… Do you need a towel? You can shower if you want too?”

I looked at him with soft eyes. He did everything right. A true gentleman behind that trashy style. He really was the same sweet guy as in my dream. The warmth in my chest said everything—I was in love with him. So in love with him.

“That would be nice… But the couch?”

“I take care of that. It's a removable cover. I will just get a new one.”

I looked at him with a pained expression, and he probably could see I was on my way to cry again because he stood up and walked away to the window.

“I'll have a cigarette on the roof while you go to the bathroom, okay?”

I nodded and didn't ask about what he meant about the roof. I just assumed he meant he had a roof under the window to jump out on.

×××

He fixed everything. A dark gray towel, a pair of black boxers, black Adidas sweatpants, my handbag, my bra, and top, a plastic bag for my dirty clothes, but also…

“There is an extra toothbrush on the highest shelf in the cabinet,” he said through the door when I was done with everything else. I stood in his boxers, his long sweatpants, and my black long sleeved top. Just that simple sentence made me tear up again. What a man he was. He was thinking about everything. Lotti had done a great job with him, to be honest, much better than she had done with Robin, and I wondered if Eric just had that in him. That sweetness.

When I was done, I walked out to Eric, standing in the little open kitchen. He loaded an old, white coffee maker and was dressed in boxers and a black tank top. He didn't seem to have noticed that I had come out, and for a minute I had the luxury to just look at him. He stood with a hand under the tank top, scratching his tattooed stomach while watching the coffee run down the pot. I looked towards the couch and saw that he had removed the cover on one of the cushions, and once again I felt heavy shame. I had destroyed his couch.

“Oh, hey, I didn't hear you,” Eric said to me, and I looked at him again.

“Thank you… And I'm sorry again for destroying your couch.” Eric smiled a little and shrugged his shoulders.

“I'll try to wash it later.”

The thought about him scrubbing my period stain was probably the worst thing I could imagine, and I laid my hands over my face.

“I said it is okay.” He laid his big hands on my shoulders, and they weighed me down comfortingly. I took a deep breath and looked at him but couldn't stop myself from sneaking my arms around his waist. In my dreams, he would have hugged me, and real Eric did too. He laid his long arms over my shoulders and dragged his hands comfortingly over my back. I didn't know if I'd gotten such a good hug before, and after a while, engulfed in his embrace and his wonderful scent, I breathed slowly and calmly.

“God, you're so perfect,” I said to him with my nose pressed against his chest. Eric laughed a little, and I could feel him shake his head. I looked up at him confused because, for me, it was obvious he was perfect.

“You're such a great guy, Eric.” He looked away embarrassed and didn't seem to know if he wanted to smile or not.

“I'm not really, but… Thanks?”

He laughed unsurely and looked down at me. I continued to stare at him, and he gave me a little smile and a shoulder shrug. Once again, I was reminded of the couch and pushed my face onto his chest again.

“I'm really sorry for destroying your couch…”

Eric laughed now.

“What can I do to make you forget about that?

I looked up at him again, then stood up on my toes. I searched for deep eye contact, and in my embarrassment, I didn't feel like I had anything to lose.

“Kiss me.”

Eric doubted and looked away, but then down at me and put my hair behind my ear with some struggle.

“I can't really date right now…”

“I don't care. Just kiss me.”

So he did. After a while of looking at me seriously, he laid his hands on my cheeks and steered my face towards his. He pressed his lips softly against mine, just like he had done in my dream, and they were soft as silk. It was he that made me separate my lips so our tongues could meet. When he did that, he also opened a gate to my heart and planted infinite love for him.

×××

“Do you want coffee?” He said with his voice raspy again after we had shared a few soft kisses. I looked up at him and giggled when I saw his pink cheeks and dazed eyes. He gave me a crooked smile and a sigh of relief.

“Yeah, coffee, please,” I said and released his waist reluctantly.

He made an omelet for each of us and explained that he eats six eggs per day, sometimes even more than that if he didn't have time to do a proper dinner.

“Is it because of the workout?” I said and took a bite of the fluffy omelet. We sat on the floor by his coffee table because he didn't have a dinner table, and I didn't dare to sit on his couch.

“Yeah, I need the protein.”

“You look so great, but is it worth it? I mean, work out so much, eat so boring…”

I had a thought it maybe was connected to his addiction, but he hadn't told me himself he had an addiction, so he believed I didn't know anything about that. He shrugged his shoulders and chewed the big bite of omelet he had in his mouth but didn't finish before he had started talking.

“I like it. It's a hobby. And I have something to really focus on ehm…”

He swallowed and looked down on his plate, thinking about something.

“It's good for me.” It felt like his thought was to say something else and he looked away a bit awkwardly. I wanted him to be honest with me; I wouldn't judge him for his baggage, but clearly he judged himself for it.

“Do you train or anything?” He asked and made me feel a bit stupid. I didn't work out much, and maybe he would think I sounded lazy.

“I worked out at the gym once a week or something, but then I did something to my shoulder, and yeah, I started to just go out with my dog.”

Eric smiled a little and nodded.

We talked about Odin. I shared that he had a strong will and it was hard to discipline him. He seemed to have too much energy and too many ideas but was also afraid of much and barked at people, dogs, and sounds. Eric listened without trying to pretend he knew anything about raising a dog, even if I wondered if he knew. He had been able to calm down Odin both in my dream and also outside of the store; still, he didn't say anything; he just said he thought Odin would become better with age.

I could feel when we talked that I knew too much because I got a little upset he didn't share more with me. If I hadn't known so much about him already, I wouldn't have thought about it, but now I just waited on him to tell me about his dog Max, which he had had when he was little.

“Have you had any pets?” I asked just to lead the way to him talking more openly. Eric laughed a little and put down his cutlery on the empty plate.

“I have cats. But they’re not mine. I have three that break in here, so I have started to give them food. I don't know who's cats they are.” He smirked with a shoulder shrug, and I laughed. It was actually even better hearing him talk about things I didn't know anything about.

“How do they come in?”

“The window, they're not some sort of master burglars.” I laughed at him and shook my head.

“Have you named them?”

“Yeah, Orange, Black, and Orange Number Two.”

I giggled, put down my cutlery, and then searched Eric's eyes. He smirked at me a little embarrassed and then lowered his eyes like he realized now he had a girl in his home.

Slowly I started to crawl on all four to him in a cat-like fashion while thinking about what kind of games he liked in bed. He turned to me a little and didn't protest when I crawled up in his lap.

“You're sexy, you know that?” He said with a shy smile and dragged his hands over the small of my back.

“Yeah,” I faked an attitude and made him smirk. “But you're so much sexier… Can I just…” I took a hold of the edge of his tank top, and he leaned back a bit when I pulled it up to look at his abs. I made a pleased sound while Eric breathed heavily with his mouth open.

“Good boy,” I whispered and dragged my fingers over the tattoo on the side of his stomach, but “good” had been crossed over. I looked deep into his eyes and gave him a harder kiss than before.

“You're a good boy.

×××

We stood together in the subway station, closer together than I had expected. It was he who had pressed his body against mine, but it was me who stood on tiptoes to have my arms around his neck.

“You're cute in my pants. But I want them back,” he smirked, and careful fingers dragged over the elastic waistband. I wondered if that meant he wanted to see me again.

“What are you doing next weekend? I work, but I have the half-night free? I always meet Nick and Jackie when I work the early shift, and…” He dragged a hand over his face in the middle of his rambling, and it warmed my heart but also calmed me down to see him like that.

“I would love to visit you, if that's what you mean, but I don't have a dogsitter.” I said with a disappointed shoulder shrug.

“Bring him?”

He said it like it was obvious, and I furrowed my brows.

“I don't think you understand what a pain in the ass he can be. If I destroy your couch, he will destroy your whole home.”

Eric laughed and hugged my waist.

“Then he can destroy my home; you've seen my home. There’s not much of worth there anyway.”

He smiled sweetly and looked at me intensely, waiting for me to say yes. I giggled and dragged a finger over “Lullaby” tattooed over his brow.

“Okay.”

We exchanged numbers, even if I already had his but pretended I didn't, then we kissed over and over until I needed to go to my subway line. It was hard to let him go because I could feel how my heart stayed in his tattooed hands.

×××

Robin rang the doorbell the next Saturday when he left Odin to me. Otherwise, he always invited himself in, but that day he seemed to understand it would be inappropriate when we hadn't settled our fight yet.

Before opening the door, I closed the one to my bedroom, where I was packing things to bring to my stay at my oldest sister, or maybe the stay at Eric's. Black outfits and lacy lingerie shared space with my beauty products. I had decided with my sister that I would stay until Monday, and I hoped Eric wanted to hang out with me one more night.

Robin stood awkwardly in the hallway when I had let them in while I sat on the floor, saying hello to our wild dog. I could feel his energy and looked up at him with a small but kind smile. I was mad because of what he had done to Lotti but also knew what I was doing wasn't right either.

“Do you want a cup of tea? I need one myself,” I said with a shoulder shrug, and Robin gave me a nod.

“Yeah yeah.”

We sat down on my deep purple couch with a big tea cup each. I didn't have time for a long chat, but I wanted us to get along again. We were dog parents together, best friends, but he was also the brother to the guy I was in love with.

“I know what we do to our mom seems horrible, but… She's sick and has always worried about Eric so much she more or less became sick from that. He has always disappointed her,” he said and looked down in his cup with a sad expression. “My parents didn't know what shit they would find themselves in years later when they… Started to take care of Eric. I guess they just saw a cute two-year-old with big eyes.” He shrugged his shoulders, but I didn't say anything because I wanted him to continue to talk. “His mom was a crazy junkie and would come and try to take back Eric and even hit dad once. It was then social service decided he would live with us even if he showed signs of being just like his mom. He could get fucking crazy too, and then he started with the drugs. He even stole dad's asthma medication. He was… He is… Sometimes it feels like he's an addict before a human, you know? He can't stop, and it will always be more important than everything.”

Robin sighed deeply and rubbed his eye. I still sat quiet and tried to understand that it was Eric he talked about. The guy who had given me his boxers and made an omelet when I had left a big red stain on his couch.

“I see that you think I'm awful for saying it like that, but… You don't get how much harm an addict can do just to get drugs, and my parents were way too nice to do anything else than serve him.”

“But why did he say yes to ‘play dead’ then?”

“Dad died and mom was destroyed, but instead of helping her, he just did more drugs and then ODed. We all thought he would die, and when mom got a stroke and thought he actually had, we thought-”

“You thought. If he was totally gone on drugs, I don't think he could even discuss such a thing.” I said it more angrily than was appropriate for the situation he thought we were in, but I was just thinking about the man I had kissed six days ago.

“Fine!” Robin said, irritated. “I don't understand why you care so much. I was forced to handle an awful situation in some way. My dad was dead, my mom sick, and… Eric, he just wanted to shoot up. What do you think I should have done?”

He looked up at me with shiny eyes, and a lonely tear spilled over. I felt awful for judging him so hard because I couldn't say what I would have done. I put down my cup on the coffee table and then crawled up to him so I could hug him hard. Like usual, it was the only thing he needed to start crying violently. I felt so bad for him, for him needing to make such hard decisions all by himself and carrying that alone. I wish he had told me instead of lying, but there was also another side of this story. Eric had lost everything. Robin had decided that he wasn't worthy to have a mother anymore. Eric had also lost his dad and not only had a sick mom but also a mom he wasn't allowed to meet. Everything because he had a drug addiction he no longer has. Right? He was clean now?

×××

Robin and I said goodbye as friends, and an hour later I took mom and dad's car with Odin to meet Robin's brother. I knew Eric was a good man and took Robin's story with a pinch of salt and didn't feel any worry about meeting Eric. My heart beat at the thought of being close to him again.

Demi and her daughter stood once again with me while I applied my makeup, but instead of being an audience, they had a verbal fight about Demi wanting alone time with me, but her daughter refused to leave the bathroom. After her dad had raised his voice, she did what my sister wanted and closed the door to the bathroom on the way out.

“Don't have kids,” she joked and rolled her eyes. She sat on the toilet lid, turned to me, and played with her long ponytail.

“Trust me, I won't,” I said sincerely, but my sister laughed like it was a joke.

“You will feel different when you're in love… Don't you think Eric wants kids?” She teased. I looked at myself in the mirror and took a break from applying my mascara.

“To be honest, no. I don't think he wants kids. It would surprise me.”

“Hm…” Demi sounded a bit disappointed. “So, do you remember you promised to show pictures of him in exchange for staying here?” She sounded teasing again and made me roll my eyes with a smirk. I was a bit nervous to show the pictures to her but also proud. He was so hot and so ripped. I had never been with a guy so fit, and I don’t believe my sister had either. It was the pictures from Lotti I had photographed, close, so it would look like it was the original pictures.

Demi looked up at me with a confused expression while she scrolled between the close-up of a smiling Eric and a shirtless Eric. She shifted between looking at the pictures and me, and I could feel she would say something bad.

‘You dated Dante, a sweet, trustworthy, tanned Italian, and left him because you thought he had asshole-y behaviors, so you instead started to date this? This?”

I didn't want to talk about Dante because he was an asshole, even if no one in my family could see it.

“Don't you see how hot he is?” I said instead and made Demi shrug her shoulders.

“Yes, he's hot, but do you see what's doodled over that hotness? That's 300 bad decisions."

I sounded out in frustration and continued to do my makeup.

“What's his story? Is he a criminal? An addict?”

I didn't answer and instead shut off when she continued to talk and made him sound like a stereotype. I threw down my deep pink lipstick in my handbag but stopped for a second to look inside it. The pack of condoms stared back at me and made me feel awful. I had never been so stressed about protection but felt different now. Even I had my prejudice about Eric.

#bill skarsgård #fan fiction #bill skarsgard #writing #story #bill skarsgård writing #bill skarsgård fanfiction #fiction #the crow #the crow fan fiction #2024 #Eric

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thechosenof · 1 month ago

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The Rabbit Bites Back

(A/N) First fanfic on here and it’s of this stupid egg for some reason. I am in the most fierce battle of a love-hate relationship with this bald man. LOL. Maybe I should just leave this as a one-shot, but I could totally see it being a little series with Rook and Solas in the Veil. Word count is 1546. Don't read unless you've finished the game! Spoilers ahead! I would appreciate any feedback!

TW: Fighting and blood. AFAB Rook, she is addressed by she/her. I think that's it.

The Dread Wolf is a liar. He had lied to so many before—the Evanuris, the Inquisition, and even his lover. It is his nature. So I don’t know why it came as such a surprise to myself that he had lied to me as well. Perhaps, during our time together in the Fade, I had misunderstood our ‘tenuous relationship’ as something resembling camaraderie, even a friendship. But now, as I stood in front of him, my companions defeated and tired behind me, I watched as he began cutting into the Veil. He was ready to end this world that we had just saved, to rebuild the one taken from him.

"Ma harel lasa," I hissed, the elven words dripping from my tongue. My voice carried across Achon Palace, sharp as a claw. Solas paused before he turned to look at me over his shoulder. His gaze was cold and unyielding, demanding submission.

"You knew that I was called the god of lies, treachery, and betrayal, da’len," he said. His tone was calm, almost condescending. My nose twitched in distaste at his choice of words that aimed to belittle me. I took a step forward, my gray eyes locked on his purple like a rabbit facing its natural predator.

“Yet you said that you were no god.” My voice rang a bitter scoff as I climbed the stairs toward him. Before I could even breach half the distance, his left hand shot out and his magic unfurled in a green wave that caught me mid-stride. Pain locked me in place just as much as his magic did. My teeth clenched, a groan of defiance caught in my throat. Behind me, I heard my companions’ shouts, their desperation echoing against the crumbling stone walls. Solas, however, didn’t spare them a glance. He was good at that, disregarding those that he saw beneath him, and now he had no reason to even feign interest.

"Do you not see?" he asked, his frustration surfacing in the scrunch of his brows, a glint of sorrow in his violet eyes showing his feelings. “If I do not do this, everything I have done—everyone I have hurt— It will have been for naught. Their sacrifices cannot be in vain.” I started yet again, ready to pick him apart, lie by pathetic lie like a rabbit snacking on its favorite foods, but a calm voice stopped me mid-breath.

“But what if those you’ve hurt were the ones begging you to stop?” The Inquisitor’s voice rang out from behind me, steady yet trembling with emotion. Solas faltered and eyes widened as he turned to face her completely. I watched as his delicately crafted mask began to slip, her sudden appearance obviously not anticipated by the deceitful wolf.

“Ma vhenan,” he murmured and I held my breath. I know that they had once been involved, but I dearly underestimated to what extent. Regret softened his features and uncurled his brows. Her light footsteps carried her past me, her long black hair flowing behind her as my eyes took in her form. She stood in front of him and ever so gently, she laid a hand on his shoulder. In that brief moment of consolation Solas’ magic fell apart and dropped me limply. I felt Davrin’s hands wrap around my waist to pull me into his strong arms.

Solas' voice cracked as he spoke to the Inquisitor, as though ashamed to meet her loving gaze. It seemed that he felt unworthy of her sentiments, but as he opened his treacherous mouth once more I realized that there was more to it.

"I am sorry, but I cannot. Not even for you and what we once shared." His words were both a plea and a sentence. I watched her expression crumble into anguish, but she didn’t move away. Instead, she tightened her grip on him.

“You don’t have to do this, Solas. You can still—”

“No.” His voice hardened, and with a swift motion, he turned away from her making her hand fall limply to her side. I bit into my bottom lip, the iron of my blood flickering across my tongue. If he wouldn’t even listen to the one he held most dear, what were we to do?

The crackling energy of his spell surged once more and the Veil shuddered as his power pressed against it. From above, a crow swooped low as I began to spiral, its black wings brushed against my cheek like a fleeting caress. Comfort? Warning? I didn’t know but then Morrigan’s form shifted from feather to flesh, her presence taking us all by surprise as she stood beside the Inquisitor, facing Solas’ back.

“Morrigan?” Solas’ voice questioned, confusion knitting his brow. He hadn’t expected her. She smiled knowingly.

“That is of the many names I have taken. But there is also…” Her voice faded into the background as I wobbled to my feet, my focus narrowing on the wolf in sheep's clothing standing before me.

“Rook?” Davrin caught my arm, his grip tight but not bruising. I turned to face him only to see his expression was a mix of desperation and confusion. To him, it must have seemed that we were gaining the high ground, that Solas could be reasoned with. But I could see the wolf’s fangs even if he couldn’t. It broke my heart to know what I was going to do to him after promising a happy life with him, after finally convincing him that life was worth more than he thought.

“Whatever it takes,” I murmured sadly as my pale hand hooked behind his neck pulling us together. I pressed my forehead to his and closed my eyes for a few seconds before pulling away.

“Wait—” he started, but I slipped from his grasp and began to stalk up behind Solas quietly. Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of the moment crushing. I knew what was coming and what I had to do. He had always seen me as nothing more than a da’len to be used and manipulated, a wolf playing with a rabbit before sinking its canines into delicate flesh.

Varric’s face flashed behind my eyes, the last time I’d seen him in the fade after Solas had swapped our places. He believed that Solas could be redeemed, but I knew better now. Even if we saved him this time, it wouldn’t be long before he stabbed us in the back again. Solas had done it time and time again for centuries, and through his regrets I came to understand that he had manipulated even himself into believing that he was correct and validated in his choices.

The fragment of Mythal we had taken from the Crossroads left Morrigan’s body and vanished back into the statuette. Solas collapsed, his lean form folding as though the burden of being her soldier for centuries had finally overwhelmed him. His Inquisitor knelt beside him, her voice soft as she pleaded with him to stop this madness, to leave into the fade with her by his side. But when he raised his head, his eyes were empty.

“I am sorry, ma vhenan,” he whispered before binding her and Morrigan with his magic. It was then that I acted. My fist connected with his jaw and sent him jeering back. I took that chance to lunge for the blade he was holding. Clutching the hilt with both hands overtop of his, time seemed to move impossibly quickly as we both grappled for control of the blade.

His head shot forward, striking mine in a headbutt. Pain spread across my skull, and in that split second, he drove the blade into my stomach. I gasped, the sharp cold of the blue blade stealing my breath away.

“I am sorry for this final betrayal,” he said, his voice holding no malice.

“But it is over.”

Adrenaline surged through me and with a snarl, the rabbit bit down on the wolf’s pointed ear. The wolf cried out, his claws reaching to cradle his wound, and letting go of the blade. The rabbit yanked it from her body and staggered back a step before tackling the wolf, forcing him to the ground. With his arms pinned above his head, the rabbits hips straddling his waist, she leaned down and slashed the blade across his matted fur, slicing open his paw.

“Yes,” I whispered, my voice trembling with resignation.

“It is over.”

I looked behind me one final time, my eyes locking with Davrin's as Lucanis held him back from charging toward me. He was yelling for me, his face screwed in anguish. My head fell to my chin as I bitterly glared at the struggling man beneath me. He snarled and bit at my fur, never having expected the rabbit to best him. I let out a breath as tears pricked my eyes thinking of the happy fairy tale I will never get to live with my friends. Letting out a deep breath, I pushed back the tears for just a moment to smile at the companions I will be leaving behind.

The Veil tear widened as Solas and I were dragged into its depths together, his voice yelling out in despair as each of our loved ones watched helplessly.

“Vhenan.” Heart/My heart. “Ma harel lasa.” You lied to me. “Da’len.” Child.

#solas dragon age #solas #solas x rook #female rook #davrin x rook #elf #dalish rook #solas x inquisitor #dragon age rook #dragon age #veilguard #dragon age veilguard

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reallydumbdannyphantomaus · 1 year ago

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The Apocalypse Club

(ao3) (art 1) (art 2)

Valerie, Kwan, and Paulina find out Danny's biggest secret while Amity Park is invaded by a strange new ghost. Now, all four of them have to work together to save the day. ...If they can stop fighting each other first.

Hey!!! this is my @invisobang piece for 2023!!!! it hits in at about 15k words and i got to work with @minnowmarsh and @trolithfoxyflint for the amazing art that comes with it! now you crazy kids have fun reading :D

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“How,” Valerie said when she could talk again.

Danny shrugged and looked away. His face was tinted green, though whether from nausea or the swirling portal on the wall of the lab, she couldn’t say. Kwan didn’t look much better, ashen gray, hair sticking up in all directions from how much he’d been pulling it. Paulina’s eyes hadn’t left Danny’s face since…

Well, since.

“Is that the most important question right now?” he said, rummaging in the desk.

Yes, she wanted to scream. But it wasn’t, and she knew it wasn’t, just as much as she knew that he was avoiding the question.

But she was a professional. She’d worked with… Danny… before. She could put aside her personal feelings until they were safe.

“What’s the plan?”

“We need allies,” he said, still not looking at her. “The only place left to find them is the ghost zone.”

“What?” Paulina said. “You want us to—to go in there?”

“What about our families?” Kwan said.

“Isn’t it super dangerous in there?”

“Look, your families’ best chance is if we get help. And you don’t have to come with me, but I think it’s more dangerous to sit here and wait.”

Valerie rolled her eyes. How was she ever friends with these two? Here they were, whining about danger, when they were missing the most obvious issue with this plan. “Where are we going to get allies in the ghost zone? The whole thing’s just full of ghosts!”

Maybe it was a trick of the light, but for a moment his eyes flashed acid green. Her hand snapped to the ectogun on her hip. “You’ve worked with ghosts before, Val.”

“No, I’ve worked with you before, and who the hell knows what you are.”

The words spilled out her mouth like poison, acid. She didn’t know if she meant them or not, but she did notice his full body flinch.

(She filed away the sore spot for future reference.)

“Jesus, Val,” Kwan said, running his hand through his already messed up hair.

She looked away. “Sorry.”

“Look, I have allies in the ghost zone. Even some enemies who, push comes to shove, will help me out if only so they get to kill me themselves. I’ve never seen or heard of this ghost before, okay? If it’s this powerful, and I’ve never heard of it, that’s a really, really bad sign. We need all the help we can get and we can’t afford to be picky about where it comes from.”

Valerie stared harder at the wall. Her skin crawled at the thought of making nice with ghosts. “Easy for you to say.”

“I’m working with all of you, aren’t I?”

Valerie’s eyes snap to meet Paulina’s, then Kwan’s. She’d forgotten, somehow, that Paulina and Kwan (and she, once upon a time) had always treated him and his friends like garbage. She’d forgotten that for all that Phantom was her enemy, she’d once used his cousin (or whatever that relationship actually was, who the hell knows anymore) as bait to capture and torture him.

“Fine,” she said. Deliberately, she dropped her hand from her gun. “So how are we doing this?”

The ghost zone was a lot… greener than Paulina expected. It made sense, in retrospect: green was the color of ectoplasm after all, but in her head she always imagined it to have more of a Sam Manson aesthetic. Black. Maybe some purple. But deep and dark and depressing.

(Last time she saw Sam Manson, Manson’s eyes were totally black and she was clawing at Paulina’s face, spittle flying from her mouth. Not a totally unexpected reaction, she had to admit, but there was no intent or reason, just pure feral violence.)

“So,” she said, “where exactly are we going?”

“The Far Frozen,” Fenton said, hands white-knuckled on the steering. “I have friends there.”

“It, uh, sounds cold,” Kwan said. “I didn’t bring my jacket.” More like a swarm of zombie-football players had tried to drag him down by his collar and he’d only escaped by letting his letterman jacket slide off.

“Frostbite’ll have coats.”

“And what is Frostbite?” That was Valerie, still glaring at Fenton like he’d pissed in her Cheerios. Paulina really didn’t understand what her issue was. Sure, Paulina was shocked to find out that Fenton was her beloved ghost boy, but she was more awkward than angry. Valerie seemed to take the whole situation personally.

“He’s a yeti.”

“A yeti? A dead yeti?” Paulina crossed her arms. “Are you telling me that yetis are real?”

“Look, not all ghosts were once alive. Sometimes, they’re the ghosts of beliefs or ideals or stories. Things we used to think about and believe in. Pandora’s here, too, along with a lot of pantheons, but they won’t tell me if they were ever alive.” Fenton’s lips curled up in a little smile and his face softened. “I’ve been trying to weasel it out of them for months.”

They lapsed into another brief silence before Fenton spoke again.

“Look, if you have any other questions… now might be the best time. It’ll be a bit before we get to the Far Frozen, and I don’t know if we’ll have any time after that.”

Paulina had a million questions, but she couldn’t think of one she wanted to ask right now. How? Why? When? That could all wait until after the day was saved. Her nerves were still twitching and she dug her fingers into her wrist to stabilize, remember the now and not two hours ago, watching Star, black-eyed and snarling with one arm bent out of shape, leap for her throat. She said nothing.

“Are we… just gonna stay in the For Frozen?” Kwan said. “Like, while you save the world?”

“Far Frozen, and yeah. That was the plan.”

“I’m not staying in some frozen wasteland so you and your ghost buddies can fuck up saving the world.”

Paulina couldn’t help staring at Valerie. What the hell was she talking about? Phantom—Fenton—Danny had saved the world plenty of times before.

“I was talking about Kwan and Paulina, Val. I know you’d never stay out of it.”

Valerie curled her lip. “Just so we’re clear. I have to keep an eye on you, anyway.”

“What is your deal, girl?” Paulina said. “If you two are our best shot at saving the world, being pissy at each other isn’t going to help.”

“Stay out of it!”

“The world is ending! We don’t have time for you to be stubborn.”

Kwan shrank back at their raised voices. “Uh, I don’t think this is a good time to fight, either.”

“Of course you don’t. Since when do you ever think for yourself?”

“Hey!”

“Shut up! Just be quiet, all of you. Jesus.” Danny turned around to glare at them, his eyes flashing green. “Valerie and I have worked together before even though she hated me. We can do it again.”

Paulina wasn’t so sure about him using “hate” in the past tense there, but Valerie was nodding.

“I can put my personal feelings aside to save the world, and fuck you for thinking anything different. But then, I guess you never thought much of me, did you?”

“What are you—”

“Seriously? You have to ask?”

Paulina bit her lip. When Valerie’s dad lost his job, Valerie lost everything. Including her friends. Like Paulina. No, she thought after a moment, I suppose I don’t.

Danny groaned from the front. “I changed my mind. No more questions. Let’s just… be quiet.”

Paulina had to agree.

The Far Frozen was, in fact, cold.

Kwan shivered in just his black t-shirt, but truthfully, his letterman jacket would’ve only helped so much. This was a bitter cold, a deep-winter cold that took three blankets, a hot chocolate, and fuzzy socks to banish.

Kwan really hated the cold.

“Great One!” the yeti in front of them said, arms (one of flesh and fur, the other of ice and bone) spread wide like he was offering a hug. Was it some kind of yeti cultural thing?

Fenton jumped up and embraced the creature. Apparently, it was just an offer of a hug.

“What brings you to my domain?” the yeti said once he put Fenton down. “And with such strange company as well!”

Fenton rubbed the back of his neck. “We need your help, Frostbite.”

Kwan’s teeth started to chatter. Valerie and Paulina’s arms were dotted with gooseflesh, alongside his own. How was Fenton not fucking freezing?

“Can we have this conversation inside?” Paulina said, rubbing her arms.

“W-w-w-with jackets?” Kwan’s chattering teeth brought out a stutter. Embarrassing. “Ma-y-be a f-fire?”

“Of course!” the yeti said. “Your fragile human bodies require excess warmth to survive. Please, follow me.”

The yeti, who introduced himself as Frostbite, led them to a cave where they were each presented with a delightfully warm coat, almost thick enough to banish the cold from Kwan’s bones.

(Almost.)

Valerie spent the whole trek glaring at Frostbite like she expected him to turn around and start biting the second she took her eyes off of him. She kept one hand on her blaster the whole time. Kwan couldn’t imagine going through life with that kind of paranoia. It must be exhausting.

The cave itself was almost cozy. It was decorated, had furniture and artwork and books like it was someone’s office. With a jolt, Kwan realized that it was an office. Frostbite’s, most likely. On the wall, there was a portrait of Phantom (Fenton?) standing victorious. What the fuck.

“What’s with the whole ‘Great One’ thing, by the way?” Kwan said.

“It is demonstrative of our unending love and gratitude for the Great One, who saved us all from subjugation at the hands of the villainous Pariah Dark!”

Valerie snorted. “‘Villainous.’ Like you’re not.”

Frostbite tilted his head in confusion. Kwan hated to admit it, but it was kind of adorable. “I am unsure what your meaning is. I assure you that we denizens of the Far Frozen have no villainous aims with any friend of the Great One.”

“I’m not gullible enough to believe you.”

Frostbite opened his mouth to reply again, but Fenton cut him off.

“Just ignore her, Frostbite. You’re not going to change her mind and we don’t have time to argue. A new ghost is attacking Amity Park, and we need your help.”

It all happened so fast.

All four of them escaped by sheer luck. Kwan managed to dodge the football team and hide in the bleachers next to Paulina, who’d nearly been bitten by Star and Sam in the bathroom. Valerie put on the Red Huntress suit as soon as she realized what was happening, giving her some protection against the spreading infection. And Danny?

Well, Danny could fly.

Danny stumbled upon the other three by chance, checking through the school for anyone who’d managed to avoid the plague, though he didn’t have much hope. He’d found Kwan, Paulina, and Valerie—two useless people and one who absolutely hated him.

Still, he couldn’t leave them there, unprotected. He grabbed Paulina and Valerie hoisted Kwan on her hoverboard and they’d raced to FentonWorks.

He’d intended to stay in ghost form the whole time, but he hadn’t realized that the infected were still capable of reason, at least on some level. That their attacks weren’t mindless. That his mom could hit him with an ectogun that would short out his powers, however temporarily.

And now three new people know who he is.

Three new people who he can’t trust in the slightest.

(What if they tell people? His parents? The school? The Guys in White?)

But he can’t worry about that, because the world is ending.

“I see,” Frostbite said after Danny had explained the situation. “This is… worrisome. If it escaped—”

“It? Frostbite, do you know what this is?”

“Mm. It sounds like Pestilence.”

Danny frowned. “Like… pesto?”

Paulina scoffed and whacked Danny on the head. “No, idiot. Pestilence. Like disease and stuff.”

“Yes. Considered by certain branches of Christianity to be one of the four Horsemen that herald the apocalypse.”

“One of four? You mean there’s three other horse-guys?”

“Indeed. The belief in this specific end of days has largely died out in the modern day, so the Horsemen became ghosts. However, they were so dangerous, so suddenly, that we ghosts banded together three hundred years ago to seal them away. If one of them is out…”

“...then the others might be out, too.” Danny rubbed at his forehead. “This gets better and better. What are the other three?”

“War, Famine, and Death,” Paulina said, counting them off on her fingers. Valerie raised an eyebrow at her. “What? Everyone knows that.”

“You are correct, Delicate One.”

“Um, my name’s Paulina.”

“None of those sound good.” Kwan scratched his head. “Also, why is Death separate? Don’t War and Famine and Pestilence all kill people? Does Death extra kill people or something?”

Frostbite shrugged. “How should I know? I’m already dead.”

“Can you be dead if you were never alive?”

“In any event,” Frostbite said, “your best chance is to put Pestilence back before any of the others break free.”

“And how are we supposed to do that, ghost? We barely escaped in the first place!”

Valerie had a point: they knew what they were fighting, now, but it didn’t solve the problem of we can’t beat this guy. Danny rubbed his temples. Maybe if he could get Skulker to work with them, Skulker would help convince the rest of the Ghost Zone and they might actually have a shot.

“Your best chance is finding the Panacea.”

Danny scrunched his eyebrows. “The what?”

“Panacea is, like, a mythical elixir thing that can heal any disease.” Danny, Kwan, and Valerie stared at Paulina, who was tapping on her phone. She looked up at them and rolled her eyes. “What? Everyone knows that.”

“Okay, so where’s this Panaderia at?” Valerie said.

“Patience, Suspicious One. Allow me to explain.”

“What the hell did you just call me?”

“The Panacea is hidden in the far reaches of the Ghost Zone, near Pariah’s Keep.” Frostbite pulled out the Infi-Map from his desk and rolled it out on the desk. “Legend tells that Pariah wanted it for himself, but could never get through its protections.”

“Protections? Like—ghosts and shit?”

“Not quite. The story goes that there are three trials one must overcome to obtain the Panacea. The first is a trial of courage. The second is a trial of compassion. And the third is a trial of truth.”

Valerie threw her hands up in the air. “What the hell does any of that mean?”

“The legend does not specify.”

“Of course,” Paulina said, “because when the world’s at stake, you want as much ambiguity as possible.”

“Quite.”

Courage, compassion, and truth. Well, Danny was decently brave. He spent half his time fighting ghosts, at least, and protecting people. It had to count for something. Compassion… he could probably work on that part, but he did care about people. That’s why he protected them. Truth?

That was a little stickier.

He lied, all the time. It was for a good reason, but he wasn’t sure the trials would see it that way. Maybe he would just have to tell the truth in the moment? Ugh, this whole thing was so complicated.

Maybe Valerie would do better at the truth thing. Though, she also had a secret identity. Whatever. They’d figure it out.

Lost in his thoughts, Danny didn’t notice Valerie approaching him until her hand wrapped around his arm and she pulled him away.

“Woah, what are you—” Danny squeezed his eyes shut as he was yanked back into the bright light of the outside. The snow sparkled in the glow that permeated the Ghost Zone almost like sunlight, but half as warm.

“If you and I are going to do this, we should have a plan.”

“A plan for what? We don’t even know what these trials will look like.”

Valerie’s hand tightened around his bicep. “So you just want to fly in blind? Hide behind me and let me figure it out so you can swoop in and ‘save the day’ or some bullshit?”

“That is not remotely what I—”

“Save it! You’ve been lying to me this whole time. For years. And I—I actually thought that you cared about me, which is the really stupid part.”

“I do care about you, Val.” Danny reached for her arm and she flinched back. He sighed and stared at the ground.

“No, you don’t. You can’t. Ghosts don’t care about anything or anyone. You just like the attention. You like the praise. You may have everyone else fooled but I see what you are. No more tricks, Phantom.”

Danny choked out a laugh. “And you wonder why I lied to you.”

Valerie sneered. “No, actually. It all makes perfect sense, ghost.”

His eyes stung, which was stupid. They really didn’t have time for him to go cry in a corner because Valerie didn’t like him. But his feelings didn’t care about the facts, and tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

“Whatever,” he said, and he tried to ignore how his voice cracked. “Let’s just get through this.”

“Yeah,” Valerie said. “Let’s get through this and then never talk to each other again.”

He’d really thought he could talk to her, if she ever found out. He’d really thought he could convince her. That hurt the most, he realized: he’d always known she’d be mad, but after what happened with Dani, there should’ve been room for them to be friends as Valerie and Danny and as Red Huntress and Phantom.

He was the stupid one, it turned out.

“Okay. If that’s what you want.”

Valerie turned away. “It is what I want.”

“Okay.”

They fell into awkward silence.

“So—”

Distant screaming cut Danny off.

Somewhere along the way, wires had gotten crossed in Danny’s brain. Screams of terror and pain were usually a sign that people should stay away. If some did get closer, it was usually out of curiosity and panic would take over once that curiosity was sated. Danny, of course, ran straight for the danger every time.

So he wasn’t surprised, exactly, when one of the yetis, eyes dripping black, lunged for him. He’d run into enough fights that ducking out of the way of her claws was second nature. Beside him, Valerie blasted the infected yeti away. Of course. Valerie was just like him: she ran into danger.

“We need to get out of here!” She fired again at another yeti, snarling in the snow.

Danny reached for the electric cold in his chest, but it was still weak and flickering from the gun his mom had used. He was powerless.

“Danny!” Before he could blink, something slammed into him and he was speeding away from the yetis on Valerie’s jetboard.

“Wait—Wait!” Struggling to stand on a fast, open-air vehicle, he pulled himself up using Valerie’s shoulder and she shot him a withering glare. “We can’t just leave them there!”

“Us getting infected doesn’t help anyone, and you trying to play hero to get on my good side won’t work anyway.”

“I’m not—” The jetboard tilted to avoid a leaping yeti. “Why won’t you listen—”

“I did listen to you! And you lied. So I’m done with that.”

Valerie angled down to the cave entrance where Kwan, Paulina, and Frostbite were and jerked to a stop. Danny couldn’t stop his momentum and tumbled off onto the floor of the cave, landing at Paulina’s feet.

“Um, hi?” Paulina said.

“We have a problem,” Valerie said.

Apparently the “problem” was a horde of zombie yetis right on Valerie and Danny’s tail. Paulina thought “problem” was underselling it a bit.

One black-eyed yeti burst through the opening, only for Frostbite to slam his flesh arm into it, knocking it into another oncoming yeti. He then hit a panel on the wall and sealed the cave shut. Panting, he lumbered over to Danny, green goo staining his pristine white fur, grabbed the map-thing off the desk, and thrust it into Danny’s arms.

“Great One and friends, you must take the Infi-Map and find the Panacea.” The yeti looked down at the goo (his blood?) and groaned in pain. “I fear I shall soon turn as well.”

“Frostbite…” Danny said, reaching out one hand like he wanted to comfort him. And wasn’t it weird, to think of a ghost needing comfort?

“Great One, you do not have time to worry about me. Help me by bringing back the Panacea and saving us all. You must go now, before I lose my rationality and attack you as well.”

Danny squeezed his eyes like he was staving off tears. “Okay. I—okay. I’m sorry.”

Paulina felt bad for the dork (hero), really, but they so didn’t have time for this. She latched onto his arm and yanked him away from Frostbite, who was starting to snarl. “Thank you, Mr. Frostbite,” she said. “Now let’s get the fuck out of here.”

“Everybody hang on,” Danny said, opening the map. Paulina tightened her grip as Valerie and Kwan grabbed on. “Take us to the Panacea.”

Frostbite jumped at them, teeth bared, and the map whisked them away in a green light. Paulina wasn’t sure what she’d expected, but this was not it. The sudden acceleration stole a scream from her throat, and the rush of air brought tears to her eyes. The last thing she saw was Frostbite’s icy arm, outstretched, and then she could see nothing but motion.

There was nothing to do but hang on for dear life, then all of a sudden they were standing again, in a cavernous hall. Paulina wobbled on her feet, then vomited.

A hand rubbed at her back, and she turned to see Kwan, awkward half-smile on his face. “You okay?”

The hall was massive and crumbling, stone pillars in pieces. A mosaic pattern tiled the floor, and she looked up to see a perfect reflection in the roof, except for a couple of holes where the swirling Ghost Zone peeked through.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Except for, you know.”

“Everything?”

“Yeah, that.” She bent over and spat a couple times, trying to get the taste out of her mouth. She’d lost her water bottle sometime in the multiple life threatening situations they’d been in in the past 4 or so hours, so saliva was her best option. “We weren’t supposed to be here. We were supposed to just sit there in that frozen wasteland and be safe. I can’t do this, Kwan.”

“But you have to, now,” Valerie said. Her voice was firm, but not unkind. “We’re all here, and there’s no half-assing this like you half-ass school, alright?”

“Excuse you?”

“We both know you could do just fine in school if you tried, Polly! You’re smart, girl. And we need smart on this mission, not smart trying to be stupid.”

Paulina stared for just a moment, then laughed. “Girl, that was the most backhanded compliment I’ve ever heard.”

Valerie rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth twitched like she was trying not to smile. “At least it was a compliment.”

“Setting our bar real low here, huh?”

“Paulina, when my dad lost his job, you all dumped me as soon as you heard. I lost everything, and then I lost all my friends. You’re damn lucky I’m not just cussing you out.”

The words were almost humorous, but there was a bite to Valerie’s tone now. Paulina couldn’t blame her.

“Listen, I wanted to say—”

“Guys!” Danny's voice echoed through the chamber. “I found something!”

Paulina swore as Valerie and Kwan both ran over to where Danny stood in front of a massive double door.

“Is that—”

“Yeah,” Danny said. “I think it’s the entrance. The trials are probably through here.”

“So,” Kwan said, pushing on the giant stone doors, “how do we—”

As he spoke, the doors lit up and slowly, slowly, rumbled open.

“Huh,” Kwan said.

It was dark inside. The glow of the Ghost Zone seemed to come to a complete halt, swallowed by whatever was beyond the threshold.

Paulina didn’t like it.

“Let’s all go through together,” Danny said.

Paulina nodded, grabbing Danny and Kwan. She couldn’t speak, her mouth suddenly dry. Why was she here? She wasn’t ready for something like this. She couldn’t save the world! Oh god, she needed to get out of here—

As one, they stepped through the door.

Kwan blinked.

“What?”

It was the Casper High cafeteria, except the Casper High cafeteria should be overrun with Pestilence’s zombies right now. But there was Dash and Paulina and Star (wasn’t Paulina back—where—what—what… day was it? Tuesday? Right, right. They had an essay due in Lancer’s class. Of course. Kwan had stayed up all night writing about… writing about…)

“Dude!” Dash said, waving Kwan over. “You ready to pummel Brantford tonight?” The last part of his sentence became a shout, directed at the whole cafeteria. Students applauded. Dash stood with one leg on his seat and one on the table, a true showman. Over in the corner, Danny Fenton, Sam Manson, and Tucker Foley rolled their eyes. Dash threw his milk carton and beaned Fenton (Danny?) in the head. Milk splashed down his head.

Something twisted in Kwan’s gut.

Dash let out a roar and ripped off his shirt, tearing it in half. The cafeteria screamed in approval.

Kwan grinned up at Dash. For all his flaws, Kwan loved this guy.

(black, black blood dripping from his mouth and eyes, Dash snarling, reaching for Kwan—)

Kwan jerked back and tore his eyes away. Dash didn’t notice as his best friend looked for the exit. Kwan’s heart pounded. It wasn’t real. Not real. Just a bad dream. Or was this…?

In the background, Valerie (his friend? not his friend? no, no, they’d dropped her because she’d lost everything, right? but no, no that was cruel, too cruel even for Dash and Paulina, that couldn’t be right) was sneaking out the door just as Danny Fenton gasped and rushed in the same direction.

Something wasn’t right.

“Hey dude,” Kwan said, “I gotta run to the bathroom.”

Dash didn’t acknowledge him. He was leading the cafeteria in the Casper High fight song.

Kwan ran after Valerie and Fenton (Danny), bursting through the cafeteria doors just in time to see them turn the corner. “Wait!” he said, sprinting toward their shadows. Rounding the corner, he saw the Red Huntress and Danny Phantom (Valerie and Fenton—Danny, Danny, it’s Danny, Danny wants to be called his name, remember that he has to remember that—it was Valerie and Danny behind the heroes, he knew that, though he wasn’t sure how he knew) fighting a ghost.

It was massive and ugly, all claws and teeth and glowing fur. Kwan couldn’t see any eyes, but he’d learned after years of dealing with ghosts that that didn’t necessarily mean that it couldn’t see. It had six legs and two jaws that opened in concert to let out an earsplitting screech.

Glowing green spittle flew out of its unholy maw and landed on Kwan’s letterman jacket. Gross.

The ghost slammed Danny into a locker with one leg and used another to pin Valerie to the ground. It lowered its face to Valerie’s, ready to take a taste.

“Hey!” Kwan said, throwing the first thing he could grab—his phone—at the ghost. It bounced harmlessly off its head, but startled the ghost enough that Valerie was able to slip out of its hold and Danny was able to knock it down. A flash of light from Danny’s thermos, and the ghost was gone.

“Are you okay?” Kwan said. Valerie’s suit retracted and Danny transformed back into Fenton. Both of them were bruised, Danny cradling his ribs, but they were upright.

“We’re fine,” Valerie said with a glare.

“Hey,” Kwan said, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’m just trying to help.”

“Yeah, right.” Danny snorted and looked away. Kwan could still see milk in his hair.

Kwan frowned. “Look, I know it wasn’t much, but I’m just a guy! I did what I could!”

“Yeah, you did. Probably saved our lives with that phone.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“You only care because we’re heroes!” Valerie got in his face so he could clearly see the bruise lining her cheek. “You wouldn’t care if we were hurt because your bestie decided he wanted a punching bag. Helping the Red Huntress and Danny Phantom isn’t a risk to you. It makes you a hero! You’re so cool for helping to save the day. But you’d never help Valerie and Danny because what if someone saw ?”

“That’s not…”

“Face it, Kwan. You’re a coward. Always will be.”

Then they were gone, and Kwan was alone in the middle of a destroyed hallway.

“Kwan,” Dash said, “we need you to be on your a-game for this. They’ve got a real beast on their D-line, and you’re the only one with a chance of keeping him off me. I don’t wanna spend the whole game with my ass on the grass, so I’m counting on you, okay?”

Kwan blinked. They were huddled on the field, in full pads. Dash was giving the pre-game directions. It was gametime. Wasn’t it lunchtime? Or… was he… what?

“Kwan!”

“Uh, yeah! Yes. I’ve got it. Big guy, coming right at me. Yep.”

Was he going crazy? Something was wrong. Something other than what Valerie and Danny had said to him.

(And it was wrong, it had to be. He wasn’t a coward. He faced scary stuff all the time—a hazard of living in Amity Park. He couldn’t be a coward.)

The nameless d-lineman stared him down, eyes black as pitch behind the grill of his helmet. Kwan took a deep breath as he lined up against him. He could do this. This was easy. He was made for this.

A flash of green in his peripheral vision caught his attention. He turned his head just as Dash hiked the ball, and his mark blew right past him, laying Dash on the ground while Kwan stood, dumbly staring at the green he knew had to signal another ghost attack.

“Kwan!” Dash ignored the hand offered by one of the other offensive linemen. “What the hell, dude?”

Kwan jerked back. “What?” He took in the scene: Dash, with a clump of grass stuck in his helmet and dirt on his jersey. The ball, being moved backward by the referee. His teammates, glaring at him. “Oh. Oh, sorry. Just—I think there’s a ghost over there?” He pointed at the green light.

“So?” Dash said. “There’s always a ghost. Leave it for Huntress or Phantom to deal with. We’ve got a game!”

“Yeah. Yeah!” Danny and Valerie could totally handle it. They were heroes. It’s what they did. And football was what Kwan did. Division of labor and all that stuff.

And the thing is that Kwan was really good at football. He was the best left tackle in the state, easy. His coach said he could be the next Tony Boselli—though, hopefully without the injuries. With his mind on the game, no one got even close to Dash before he’d thrown the ball.

The forest glowed again. Kwan ignored it. There were eight minutes left on the clock for the second quarter.

A piercing scream floated over the field. Kwan turned to see Valerie, in her Red Huntress gear, slam into the ground head-first before being dragged back into the woods like a limp puppet.

“Oh shit.” This was bad. Valerie was hurt, bad. She wasn’t half-ghost like Danny. She was just a person. She needed medical care, and fast.

Could Kwan help?

Should Kwan help?

Kwan shook his head. Head injuries were no joke; he’d heard it from Coach often enough. Valerie needed help, and she needed it now. There was no time to wait for someone else to realize the problem.

He turned to leave the field.

“What the hell are you doing?” Dash said, catching his arm just as he reached the sideline.

“She’s hurt,” Kwan said. “She needs help.”

“We have a fucking game to play.” Dash’s fingers curled in the grill of Kwan’s helmet and jerking him around so their helmets clacked together. This close, Kwan could see the faint line of Dash’s eyelashes, the bright blue of his eyes. He thought about apologizing. He thought about kissing him.

How long had he been in love with his best friend? More importantly, how long had he let his best friend be an asshole because he loved him?

“I’m an idiot,” Kwan said.

“You don’t hear me arguing! Now get back on the damn field.”

“No.” Kwan almost continued, almost listed everything wrong with Dash, all the times he’d put everyone else around him down, all the people he’d hurt, how he’d hurt Kwan, even, but Dash would never, ever hear him. He knew that now. “I’m outta here,” he said instead, ripping off his helmet and sprinting toward where he’d last seen Valerie and Danny.

The world vanished.

Kwan blinked, and he was back in the chamber, staring at Valerie, Danny, and Paulina. “A test of courage…” he said to himself.

It was just like the room they first came into: a little more together, more whole, but otherwise almost identical. Across the room was another massive set of double doors. He turned around and saw the door, the first chamber beyond it. He’d barely stepped inside. It couldn’t have been more than a second or two.

“Yeah,” Valerie said with an eye roll, “that’s what we’ve been say—”

Kwan cut her off by sweeping her up in a hug.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry that I never stuck up for you. I’m sorry that I hurt you. I’m sorry that I was too scared to help you even when I knew it was wrong.”

Valerie froze, stiff in his arms. “What?”

“You were right, this whole time. I was a coward and a jerk and I’m sorry.”

Kwan could feel Danny and Paulina’s eyes on him, but for right now, all his focus was on Valerie.

“What the hell are you—”

“I was a really terrible friend to you. We all were. You were hurting and we all made it worse.”

Valerie pulled back. “You’re serious. This… you mean this.”

“Yeah. I mean it more than anything I’ve ever said to you before.

“You—do you think I’ll forgive you? Just like that?”

Kwan let her go. “No. You always could hold a grudge.” He looked her in the eye. “I still needed to say it.”

Valerie nodded, a rough jerk of her head. “Okay. Just so we’re clear. Not forgiven.” She looked off-balance and confused. It figured, since Kwan had very much just dropped this on her with no warning. Whatever vision he’d received, it seemed like it was limited to him and only him.

“That’s okay. Let me know if it changes?”

Valerie stared at him for a long moment, brow furrowed, before it smoothed and one corner of her lips curled in a smile. “Whatever.”

Kwan grinned. “I’ll get there.”

Paulina coughed. “Uh, not to break up a tender moment, but can we save it for after we get the magic potion?”

“Unfortunately, Paulina’s right,” Danny said. “Not that this isn’t great, but we need to figure out the test of courage. We’re running out of time.”

Kwan was pretty sure he’d already seen it, but he didn’t even know where to begin with explaining. Instead, he said, “Danny! You, too! I was also a jerk to you, when you didn’t deserve it and I knew you didn’t deserve it. I’m so sorry about that. I wanted to be liked but I—”

“Woah woah woah,” Danny said. “I… appreciate it, but we really don’t have the time right now, dude.”

“No. No, see, this is exactly the time. I think this is my test, okay? Well, some of it. Part two, or whatever. Part one was this weird vision thing that I had to go through like some kinda fucked up dream. And I think part two is—well, bringing it into the real world.” Obviously, he couldn’t bring the ghost attack and the football game into this real world, but realizing he was wrong? Taking responsibility?

He could do that.

“How is apologizing to us a test of courage?” Danny said, head tilted in confusion.

“I was scared of… something really fucking dumb, now that I think about it. And I hurt people because of it.” Kwan glanced at Paulina, who was looking anywhere but his face. “I’m not going to let it control me anymore. And I’m sorry that I ever did.”

Silence for a moment, like the room was holding its breath, then the entire chamber began to shake. The doors at the end of the room swung open and revealed another pitch black unknown beyond them.

“Wait. That was it?” Paulina said. “You’re telling me the Ghost King couldn’t get through these trials, but Kwan did it by saying I’m sorry?”

“Woo!” Kwan said, pumping his fists in the air. Take that, Mr. Lancer’s final exam. Who was going to achieve nothing in life now? Not Kwan, he passed the Trial of Courage. Official and capitalized. Helping to save the world and all that shit.

“Well, let’s not look this particular gift horse in the mouth. Are we all ready for the next chamber?” Danny said.

Paulina coughed. “Hang on, does anyone have a breath mint? My mouth still tastes nasty.”

“Oh, yeah.” Kwan fished in his pocket and held out a stick of gum.

“Thanks.”

“Ooh, can I have some?” Danny said.

“Sure, dude!” He grabbed three more sticks of gum, handed on to Danny, who grinned, stuck one in his mouth, and held out the last one for Valerie. “Val? You want in on this?”

Valerie stared at the gum like she thought it might bite her. “Yeah,” she said after a moment. She took the gum with her thumb and forefinger, delicately. “Yeah, okay. Thank you.” She cleared her throat. “Let’s get a move on.”

As they headed for the inky blackness at the far end of the room, Kwan felt something grab his arm. He whirled around to see Danny, hand curled around Kwan’s elbow.

“Thank you,” Danny said, “for, y’know.”

“The gum?”

“No. Well, yes, but that’s not—I meant for apologizing.”

“Oh. Oh! Yeah. Honestly, should have done it forever ago. Just kept coming up with excuses, y’know?” Kwan laughed. “An apology was really the bare minimum.”

Danny let go of his arm and started walking again. “You’d be surprised. I can’t remember the last time anyone apologized for hurting me.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep.”

“Dude, that’s messed—”

They crossed the threshold.

Paulina was much more confident going into the next chamber. These trials were easy! If all Kwan had to do was apologize, then compassion was probably something like saving a kitten and truth was something like—well, she was less sure about that one. Maybe just telling a secret? Or something?

Except—something was different. Last time, they’d walked in and immediately the chamber had brightened. Kwan apparently had some weird vision as part of his trial, of course, but none of that happened.

Instead, it was still pitch black, and she could no longer feel Valerie’s arm where she’d latched on, or Kwan’s hand. “Guys?” she said, and her voice was swallowed by the void. “Hello?”

“—see her haircut?—”

“—the look on his—”

“—honestly thought I liked her!”

Paulina’s voice, first a whisper, then louder and louder until she couldn’t hear her own thoughts. Her laughter, shrill and piercing, reverberated through the space. She pressed her hands over her ears, but it did nothing to block out the noise. Her head started to pound and hot tears leaked out of her eyes.

“Stop it! Stop it, stop it, stop it!” She was sure she yelled the words, but she still couldn’t hear over her own laughter.

“Why? Why should I stop?”

“It hurts. It hurts!”

“Aw, but that’s never stopped you before!”

It was so loud. A sudden, sharp pain in her ear and she could feel warm liquid on the hand covering it.

“Please! Please! I’ll do anything!”

Suddenly, silence. Paulina fell to the floor with relief. She pulled her hands away from her head; the right one was wet and smelled of metal. Liquid dripped from her ear—had it started to bleed?

“Anything?”

“Yes! Yes, please!”

“Entertain me!”

“I—what?”

In front of her, stark against the black of the room, Valerie appeared, then Danny, then Mikey, then Sam Manson, then Tucker Foley, more and more and more of her classmates, standing and blinking in confusion at her.

But she was with Valerie and—or was she? But Manson was definitely not—this couldn’t be real. Was this real? She stared at her hand. Was she real?

“Paulina?” Valerie said. She sounded like she was underwater. The black of the room turned into a hallway. Casper High. It was—Friday. There was a football game she had to cheer for. She needed total focus for that. If only the stupid voice would leave her alone.

“I said entertain me!”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Valerie stared at her. “It’s your name, girl. Are you okay?”

“Make jokes! Like you always do. I gave you your material and everything!”

Material? Paulina looked at the crowd, and realized that all of them were… well, losers. The voice just wanted her to make fun of them?

Nothing she hadn’t done before.

“I’m better than you, apparently,” Paulina said, ignoring the pit in her stomach. “What were you thinking with that outfit?” It was a dumb, dumb comment. Low effort. It was just—in that moment, Paulina couldn’t think of anything to mock. Nothing about Valerie seemed worth jeering at.

Valerie looked down at her—admittedly, fine—shirt and frowned. “Jesus. What is your prob—your ear’s bleeding!”

Sure enough, pus and blood painted the palm of Paulina’s hand, and she could still feel something rolling down her neck.

(“Still”? When did this happen?)

“We need to get you to the nurse’s office,” Manson said, crouching down beside her. Why was Paulina on the floor?

“Oh,” she said. Manson offered her a hand up, and she took it. “Thank you. Sorry, Valerie. Your shirt’s fine.”

A piercing screech, metal on metal, filled the air. Paulina doubled over, hands back over her ears.

“That wasn’t funny, Polly!”

She could feel hands on her arms, but her eyes were squeezed shut and she could hear nothing but the voice and its (her) hideous laughter.

“You just want me to be mean!”

“Duh! Mean is funny, right?”

Paulina opened her eyes just enough to see Valerie, Manson, Foley, and Danny in front of her, concern in the lines of their faces. Danny’s mouth was moving.

“Look! It’s the little tech weirdo. He names all his phones. Like, unironically.” Foley stood up and directed other students away. Danny moved past her to do the same on the other side of the hallway. “Or the ghost kid. His parents were already freaks, and now he’s an extra special kind of freak. Easy money.”

“Please. Please just stop.”

“Entertain me, and I will. Tit-for-tat, babe.”

Paulina felt a sob jump out of her throat. Why wasn’t she just doing it? It hurt so bad. She’d do anything for it to stop.

So why wasn’t she doing this?

“I don’t want to!” she wailed. What she must sound like. What she must look like. Surrounded by people who had every reason to hate her, bleeding and crying and talking to nothing. “Pick something else!”

“But you do it all the time.”

“I change my mind, then!”

Was it that simple? All along? Could she just—change her mind? Be a better person?

“No you don’t.”

“I don’t want to hurt people anymore!”

The noise, somehow, got louder. Paulina vomited. Something wet trickled from her other ear. She wanted this to end. But she didn’t want to hurt people to do it. Why did she only get two options?

“So you’ll get hurt instead?”

“No!” She curled in on herself, falling back to her knees and closing her eyes again. “You’re choosing to hurt me. You could choose not to!”

“And, what? That’ll make it better? You’ll forgive me and we’ll be best friends?”

If Paulina could think clearly, if she could do anything beyond speak the first thing that sprung to her lips, she might have lied. She might have said “Of course I’ll forgive you” so the stupid voice might listen to her. This, however, was not a choice she had the brainpower to make right now.

Instead, she said: “Of course not! You’re a fucking asshole.”

“Then why should I?”

“Because I’m a person and it hurts!”

“You’re a little late to that realization, querida. Wasn’t Valerie a person when you ditched her? Do you think you can be Valerie’s friend again after this? That you can prove yourself to her or something?”

“I can’t fix it! But I can stop making it worse!”

The noise stopped. Blessed silence returned.

Paulina looked up through tear-blurred eyes and saw Valerie, Danny, and Kwan crouched over her. She couldn’t hear past the ringing in her ears

“I’m sorry,” she said. Her throat ached. She must have been yelling, before. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

The exhaustion hit her all at once. Her ears pulsed with pain as she continued to babble apologies. The ground shook beneath her and Kwan caught her before she could topple over. A hand rubbed at her back, soothing circles, and she curled into Kwan’s chest.

“Think ‘m gon’ sleep, now, mkay?” she said, and then she was out.

“Holy shit,” Danny said, collapsing next to Paulina and Kwan and brushing the hair out of her face. “Is she—is she okay?”

Kwan held his fingers over her wrists. “I think so. Her ears are bleeding, though.”

“What happened?” Valerie said. “Your trial wasn’t anything like this!”

“I don’t know! It’s not like I’m an expert.”

“Stop yelling,” Paulina said, shifting against Kwan’s chest. “I can’t really hear you anyway.”

“Polly!” Kwan said, naked relief on his face. “Are you okay?”

Paulina pointed to her ears. “I can’t hear you, querido. My ears—it was really loud. In the trial.”

Dried blood still stained her neck. Danny had a feeling that “really loud” was an understatement.

In halting sentences, Paulina explained her trial. The voice, the laughter, the deal for making the pain stop. Danny was impressed; he wasn’t sure he would have withstood it, in her position. He could understand, now, how Pariah wouldn’t have made it through the trials.

They asked questions throughout, which Paulina couldn’t hear. It got a little better when they spoke slower and enunciated, but it would be a struggle until her ears healed, Danny feared.

“Let’s go over what we know,” Danny said, counting off on his fingers. “One, in both of the trials, only one person was picked to do the trial. Two, neither of you remembered it was a trial while it was happening, right?”

Kwan and Paulina both shook their heads, though Paulina winced as she did it. “It felt real,” Kwan said. “Like—I knew something was wrong, but whenever I tried to focus on that wrongness, it vanished.”

“I knew it was a trial at first,” Paulina said, throat scratchy, “but when it got too loud, I couldn’t really think straight. Then I was in school, and I completely forgot about the trial thing, even though the noise was still there. I forgot it wasn’t supposed to be there.”

Danny wanted to apologize to Paulina, for getting her involved in this, but he had a feeling she wouldn’t exactly appreciate it. She looked rough. Dried tear-streaks on her face that she hadn’t wiped off yet, hair a mess like she tried to rip it out, blood trails from her ears. They were pretty sure she’d burst both eardrums during her trial.

(It was a little over-the-top, Danny thought, to torture someone in a trial of compassion. Paulina had her flaws, sure, but that didn’t mean she needed to be hurt to learn a lesson. Kwan’s trial had really lulled them all into a false sense of security.)

(He could see, now, why Pariah Dark could never make it through.)

“Three, the trials seem to pick people on purpose.” His eyes slid over to Kwan and Paulina. “I think it picks based on those who… struggle the most with the thing the trial is all about.”

“Huh?” Paulina said. Right. She could only kind of hear right now.

“He said the trials picked us because I’m a coward and you’re mean.”

Danny winced. “That’s not—”

“Oh. Well, duh.”

“So, if truth’s next, it’ll be you, right?” Valerie said, looking Danny up and down.

“Hey!”

“You’re the one with the big secrets here.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you forget that you have a secret identity, too?” Danny felt like Valerie was probably right, all things considered. His secret was, ultimately, way bigger than hers.

Still, she was getting on his nerves. He’d known she had a grudge against ghosts, especially him, but this was getting ridiculous. For fuck’s sake, she’d worked better with him on Skulker’s island, when she thought he was a full ghost.

“No, but my dad knows all about it. And so did you, apparently, though you lied about that, too.”

“Oh, wow, two whole people. Except that I told your dad, not you. And you never told me anything! I happened to find out on my own.”

“Uh, guys?” Kwan said.

Valerie rolled her eyes. “Okay, yeah. But we broke up because I didn’t want to endanger you. And now it turns out you can take care of yourself just fine!”

“Oh, so if you knew I was half dead, we’d still be together? That’s my fault now?”

“Of course we wouldn’t. But I lied to you to protect you. You lied to me to protect yourself!”

“Yeah! I did! Now think for, like, two seconds about what I needed protection from!”

“Guys!” Kwan said. “Could you stop?”

“You know what? Maybe you’re right. Maybe it will be me. But not because I lie more than you. Maybe these tests are meant for humans only.”

Danny felt his eyes flash green. “So that’s what this is about? You hate me because I’m a freak?”

“I hate you because—”

“Okay!” Kwan said, jumping between them. “I think this conversation needs to stop immediately, before you both say… even more things you will regret. Valerie, dude, I know we’re just now trying to maybe be friends again, but as your maybe-future friend: you’ve gotta lay off.”

Danny stared and blinked at Kwan a couple times. Was Kwan… defending him?

“You’re taking his side?”

“Yeah, I am. I think you both need to cool down, but you’re wrong about this. And I think you know it, too.”

Valerie huffed. “I’m not wrong.”

Danny was so, so tired. “Okay.” He turned away and walked over to Paulina, who was still on the ground, and offered her a hand.

She stared up at him before grabbing on and pulling herself up. “She is wrong. She’s just… stubborn.”

Danny sighed. “You heard all that?”

“Bits and pieces. I got the gist. Hey, do you think the Panacea will fix my ears?” Danny opened his mouth to reply, but Paulina kept talking. “Never mind. What I mean is: sorry you had to hear that. I know you care about her, you know? It must really suck to hear this stuff from her in particular.”

“Yeah, I knew she wouldn’t take it well, but I didn’t think she’d take it this badly. I mean, she was okay with Danielle!”

“I’ll be real with you, I only caught like half of that, but, uh, who’s Danielle?”

Oh, duh. Danny smacked himself in the face. “Right, sorry. Danielle’s my half-ghost cousin. Well, we call each other cousins, but technically she’s my clone. She’s her own person, and all that but—yeah. Anyway, the guy who cloned her is also a giant asshole and he was planning to melt her down to study her remains, but Valerie helped me save her.” This time, he spoke a bit louder, and made sure to enunciate so Paulina could try to read his lips too.

“Dude. You have a clone?”

“Yeah.”

“Someone cloned you?”

“Yeah.”

“What the fuck?”

Danny laughed. “Yeah, that’s about right. He’s a real fruitloop, that Vlad.”

“Hang on—not Vlad Masters?”

Danny laughed harder. “Yep!”

“What the fuck, babe!”

“You’re telling me.”

“Why?”

Danny started to answer, then thought better of it. It was, after all, a long story, and he had a feeling that, although she was great at faking it, Paulina was still only catching parts of what he said. “I’ll tell you when your ears are better,” he said, tugging on his own then pointing at hers to make his point clearer.

Paulina rolled her eyes. “Fine. But I’m holding you to that! This is some juicy, juicy gossip”—Danny flashed her a panicked look—“that I will take to my grave and never speak of again.”

Paulina kept talking as they rejoined Kwan and Valerie. Mostly jokes about how he should change his ghostly outfit (“Seriously, querido, you’d look great in a crop-top!”) or about him out-gothing Sam (“You went and died! Manson will never be that hardcore.”).

Maybe he and Paulina could be friends after this.

Valerie was sure she was right.

She was sure she was right as she and Kwan waited in stony silence for Paulina and—for the others to join them. She was sure she was right as they walked in a group, the other three linking arms while she refused Kwan’s hand. She was sure she was right as they crossed into the black.

She was less sure when the room stayed dark.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” she said. She worried at her lip for a moment, then yelled, “I’m the Red Huntress! Is that the truth this thing wants?”

“Uh, yeah,” Danny said. “I already know that, Val.”

Valerie grinned, just a little. It wasn’t like anyone could see her, and the fact that he was here, too? Vindicating. “Well, look at that. It’s both of us!”

“Yeah? It’s both of us. Together. In some strange room. In the dark.”

“Okay, well I said my big truth. You say yours.”

“What? Why?”

“We need to get through this trial, dumbass!”

“Trial?”

“Yeah, the truth trial. Obviously we’re both in it—wait. You don’t know it’s a trial! Ha, then this is totally your trial and I just got pulled in for… reasons. I knew it!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Why is it so dark? Where are we?”

Valerie waved him off, though he couldn’t see it. “Oh, that’s not important. What is important is that you need to tell the truth. Probably to me, which is why I’m here.” Yeah, that made sense. He needed to tell the truth about how he’d hurt her, how he’d hurt everyone, how he’d played hero to earn his fawning fans. He needed to stop pretending to be something he wasn’t. And she was here because she deserved to hear it directly from him.

“What truth? Again, Val, what are you talking about?”

“Stop calling me Val. We’re not friends.”

“What do you—”

“Did the trial make you forget? I know you’re a ghost.”

“Oh.”

“I destroy ghosts.”

“But… But I’m also a human.”

“You’re a liar, is what you are.”

“For good reason.”

“No, I’m a liar for good reason. You’re just a coward!”

There was a long moment of silence where Valerie could only hear her own heaving breaths. Then, softly: “Wouldn’t you be?”

“No!”

“Really? You wouldn’t be the slightest bit afraid that people would try to kill you?”

“No one would kill you.”

“You said you know I’m a ghost and then immediately threatened to destroy me.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Oh? How was I supposed to take ‘I destroy ghosts’ then? A joke?”

“Stop trying to turn this around on me. You’re the one who needs to tell the truth!”

“What truth? You already know the secret!”

“I’m talking about the rest of it! How you lie and manipulate people, how you fake being a hero, how you ruined my life!”

“Is that what you think?”

“Yes.”

“Is that really what you think?”

“I don’t think. I know.”

“Gah! It’s impossible to talk to you about this shit.” There was a rustling sound, like he was walking away.

“Hang on! You can’t walk away; you still need to complete your trial!” She ran to where she heard him moving, tripped, and then she was falling, falling, falling…

…and landing with a thud in the same black void.

“She’s a ghost! And I destroy ghosts.”

“But she’s also a human!”

Was that… her? Back when they had been talking about Danielle. Danielle, who was human and ghost and just a little girl. Valerie and—they had saved her from Vlad, who was also human and ghost.

“Was this a trick, too? Was Danielle a liar, too?” she yelled. No answer. “Where the hell did you go? We aren’t done here!”

“Valerie?”

Valerie twitched. That voice—

There, bright and glowing against the blackness of the room, was Danielle.

“Valerie!” Danielle said with a grin, flying forward and giving her a hug. Valerie returned it with stiff arms.

“Hey, you… Uh, I’m looking for your… cousin. Do you know where he is?”

“Danny? No, I haven’t seen him in ages. I’m kinda off exploring the world, y’know? Anyway, how’ve you been?”

“I’m—good. Look, I really need to find him.”

Danielle floated up and shrugged. “Well, he’s not here, but I can help you look.”

Valerie nodded. “Thanks, kid. And, uh, would you mind changing back to human?”

“Huh?” Danielle landed on whatever passed for the ground in this featureless void. “Why?”

“It’s just—uncomfortable, is all.”

Something strange passed across Danielle’s face.

“Oh. Well, I mean, I’ll be a lot faster if I can fly.”

Valerie clenched her fists. “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth.

Danielle’s answering smile was tense as she lifted herself through the air. “I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

“Wait, if you leave how will”—Danielle zoomed away with an impressive burst of speed—“we find each other. Great.” Valerie groaned and slumped to the ground. “They just keep running away, huh?”

“Yeah,” Star said, “I wonder why that is.”

Star and Valerie were on a hill, watching the stars. Star was really good at finding constellations, seeing connections where Valerie saw points, seeing a picture where Valerie saw light pollution, so stargazing was always fun with her. She’d always loved space because of her name, she said. She wanted to know all about what she was named after.

The moon was full and bright. Valerie could see Star clearly, half-swallowed by the long grass. It was a cool, pleasant night. Peaceful, in all the ways Valerie was not.

(She was looking for someone. To do… something.)

“It’s ‘cause they know I’m right,” Valerie said.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.”

“Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe you need to be less sure.”

“What are you—”

And Valerie was falling again.

Detention with Lancer. Never fun, not even when he kicked his feet up and fell asleep. She and Phantom had both gotten it for skipping class to fight ghosts. The ghost himself was sitting in the back of the class, balancing his pencil on his nose and staring out the window.

After a long moment of silence, Phantom said, “You don’t have any questions for me?”

“Already know all the answers.”

“Oh yeah? Then why’d I fight Pariah Dark?”

“For attention.”

“I thought I would die.” Phantom’s tone was light, conversational. This isn’t a big deal to him, just a fact. “Like, all the way. I thought that suit was gonna kill me if Pariah didn’t kill me first.”

“You’re lying.”

The pencil fell to the desk with a clatter. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Whenever I say anything you can’t argue against, you just claim I’m lying.”

“It’s because you’re a liar,” Valerie said without thinking.

“See! There you go again. Not addressing my actual point, just deflecting.”

Valerie opened her mouth to refute again, then paused. Calling the ghost a liar had become reflex. She didn’t have to think about anything he said if it was all a lie, after all. Then again… “But you did lie to me.”

“Yeah. I’ve been lying to everyone for years now.”

“So why should I trust you?”

Phantom shrugged. “Have I ever hurt anyone?”

“That doesn’t mean you won’t start.”

“You could say the same thing about literally anyone, though.”

“You ruined my life!”

“You told me you liked being a ghost hunter. That you like your life as it is right now. Was that a lie?”

Valerie grit her teeth. “No.”

“Then why are you so upset with me?”

“Because you lied!” Valerie yanked her hair in frustration. “Isn’t that obvious?”

“Not because I’m a ghost?”

“No!”

Valerie gasped even as the word came out of her mouth. Lancer grumbled in his sleep at the front of the classroom and shifted to the side. Phantom grinned at her, showing off the fangs in his mouth.

“Wait, no, that’s not… I’m also mad because of the ghost thing! Ghosts are evil.”

“Am I evil?”

Yes, she wanted to say, but her lips wouldn’t form the word.

“Is Danielle evil?”

Danielle, screaming, dissolving into goo, and Valerie put her there—

“No.”

“Are you angry? Or are you using anger to cover the hurt?”

“I—I’m not—”

And Valerie was falling again.

“One of these days, ghost,” Jack Fenton said, shaking his fist, “I’m going to catch you and rip you apart molecule by molecule!”

“She’s a ghost!” Valerie said. “And I destroy ghosts!”

“Ghosts are nothing but the imprint of a human consciousness manifesting in ectoplasm after death,” Maddie Fenton said, shocking the ghost on her table as it screamed. “They don’t actually feel anything.”

And then—

Frostbite slammed the door closed, even though he got infected. Even though he was a full ghost and shouldn’t have cared about them at all.

And Danielle flew away, young and eager to explore the world. A child, who’d never really been free before.

And Danny—

Danny laughing with her. Danny hiding with her from Dash and Nathan. Danny forgiving her for being mean in school. Danny begging her to help him save Danielle (a child, who’d done nothing wrong and Valerie had given her away to a man who would destroy her). Danny, just as invested in protecting that stupid flour sack for their grade. Danny, revealing her to her dad, smug little grin on his face. Danny, who could’ve died that day and no one would have ever known what he’d done for them.

Something ached in her heart.

“No,” she said, choking on a sob, as the scenery around her changed again. “No, I can’t be this wrong.”

She was in a lab, now. Jack and Maddie Fenton stood to her left. To her right stood two GiW agents. On the table in front of her, strapped down, was Phantom.

Was Danny.

“Ms. Gray,” one of the agents said, “we were so pleased when you brought us your capture. Such a unique specimen will fuel our research for decades.”

Valerie swallowed. Danny stared at her, uncanny green eyes boring into her own. He didn’t say anything.

“Decades?” she said.

“Of course! We’ll take it slow; we wouldn’t want to destroy it before we’ve learned everything we can. Not like some people.” He looked over at Jack and Maddie, who rubbed their heads sheepishly.

Decades. Decades as a test subject. If Danny was just a ghost, it shouldn’t matter. He couldn’t feel anything.

Right?

Valerie couldn’t look away from his face. He looked scared.

“No,” she said. Her fingers clenched into fists

“Hm?” the other agent said.

“No, I won’t let you do this. It… This isn’t right!” With every word she spoke, she became more sure.

Danny was afraid. It wasn’t a lie or an act. He was really, truly afraid.

“Valerie?” Maddie said. “Dear, you know it’s not a person, right? It can’t actually feel.”

“You’re wrong!” She stepped forward, pulled out her gun, and blasted away the restraints holding Danny down. “I’ve been wrong, too. This whole time.”

“It’s out!” one agent said, pulling his ectogun and firing. “Recapture maneuvers, now!”

“What did you do?” Jack grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. Danny flew around the room, avoiding the ectoblasts from the agents and Maddie. “What did you do?”

“The right thing,” she whispered. And she knew that, this time, she was correct, and it hit like a bullet to the chest.

Then she was soaring, ripped out of Jack’s grasp, flying through walls and agents until she was outside the building, in Danny’s arms, free.

He set her down on a rooftop across the city. “Thank you,” he said. “I couldn’t—”

Heaving sobs burst out of her. “I’m sorry! God, fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“I—Huh?”

Fat tears rolled down her cheeks. “I just didn’t want to admit it. For so long, Danny.”

“Are you okay?”

Valerie laughed. “No. I’ve been convincing myself that I was right and ghosts were all evil all the time because if they weren’t… if they weren’t, then what was I even doing?”

Danny’s face, inexplicably, softened. “Val—”

“And then I found out your secret, and all I could think was that you lied. That you didn’t trust me. And I knew why! But if I acknowledged it, then I had to acknowledge everything. All the—all the ways I hurt you. What if I hurt other ghosts that did—didn’t deserve it either?” Valerie hiccuped. “I—oh, God, I’m a monster.”

“You’re not a monster. You’re human. This is the kind of mistake that humans make. Me included.”

“I would have let Vlad destroy Danielle if you didn’t talk me out of it. I would have been fine with it!”

“But you didn’t. Don’t torture yourself over things you didn’t do. It doesn’t help anything.”

Valerie’s throat was sore, aching with each new sob, but she couldn’t stop. “I’m sorry. I made you a liar in my head so I could keep lying to myself. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Danny’s arms circled around her, and she let her head hit his shoulder.

“Okay,” he said. “Okay.”

Kwan didn’t expect Valerie to come back crying.

He’d kind of figured she’d get the trial. She’d been so sure it would be Danny that Kwan thought it had to be her. Like, cosmically or whatever. And after Paulina’s… whatever that was, he knew it would more than likely be intense. But ever since her dad had lost his job, Valerie had lost her softness, too. She didn’t cry when she was upset anymore. Instead, she got angry. She got even.

But when the light flashed on, Valerie was huddled on the floor, hugging herself, sobs heaving from her chest. Her face was dark and splotchy, dark stains of mascara trailing down her cheeks. Time was Kwan would have run to her, put his arms around her, rocked her back and forth. But this wasn’t that Valerie, and he wasn’t that Kwan.

He walked slowly, and knelt beside her.

“Valerie?”

“Oh God,” she said, choking through her sobs. “I—I really messed up.”

Kwan couldn’t help but turn his head and stare at Danny, holding Paulina up across the room. If she meant what he thought she meant… well, he couldn’t exactly argue.

“Yeah,” he said. She looked at him, tears still dripping from her eyes. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Valerie lifted a shaking hand and wiped at her eyes and cheeks and chin. “Ugh, nasty.” She looked tired more than anything. “Yeah. Yeah, I gotta do something, right?”

“You should probably start with walking. I don’t think he’s gonna come to you.”

Kwan stood with her, holding her elbow as her knees started to tremble. He glanced over her real quick, looking for any injuries like Paulina’s, but whatever had messed her up seemed to be more mental than anything.

That didn’t stop her from almost collapsing when she took her first step, grabbing on to Kwan’s hand at the last moment.

“Val!” Danny said, making an aborted gesture like he wanted to come over to help.

“I’m okay,” she said. “Just give me a sec.”

Kwan didn’t quite buy it, but she was determined. He kept his arm out, just in case she fell, but with each step she became steadier, almost normal by the time she reached Danny and Paulina.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I was wrong about you. About everything. And I knew it, see, but I didn’t want to face it. So I just kept lying to myself. And I hurt you because of it. And I’m sorry.”

Danny froze, staring at Valerie in disbelief. “Oh,” he said.

Kwan looked over at the door at the far end of the chamber. He awaited the tell-tale rumble, the sign that they’d finished the last trial and the door was opening, but nothing came. Confused, he stared at Valerie, who shook her head.

“I don’t think I’m done just yet,” she said, sitting down in front of Danny. “I’ve done a lot of talking since this started. Said a lot of things… things that I regret. I haven’t listened, much. I think I need to listen, now.”

“Listen to what?” Danny said. “Like, what am I supposed to say?”

“Anything you wanted to tell me.” Tears spilled over her eyes again and her voice broke. “I’ll believe you. I swear.”

Danny laughed, just a little. “Even if I said the sky was green?”

Valerie pointed at one of the holes in the ceiling that revealed the swirling Ghost Zone outside. “Isn’t it?” she said.

Kwan couldn’t help but laugh at that, too, just as Danny and Valerie fell into giggles. Paulina mostly looked confused, but Kwan didn’t really have a good way to explain it to her right now. He waved her off.

“Well, I guess—Vlad’s a half-ghost, too. I thought you should know that.”

“Oh, uh, I already did. Know that, I mean”

“You did?”

Kwan held up his hands before they could get any deeper into that discussion. “Wait, wait—the mayor?”

“Yeah. He wants to kill my dad, marry my mom, and make me his evil half-ghost apprentice. So. It’s uncomfortable at best but sometimes I egg his house.”

“You egg his house?”

“After he cloned me, I figured all bets were off.”

“He cloned you?”

“Jesus, is that where Danielle came from?”

“Who’s Danielle?”

“My cousin. Well, technically, yes, she’s my clone, but that’s weird so we just call each other cousins.”

“Yeah,” Kwan said, feeling faint, “that makes the situation much less weird.”

Danny shrugged. “It’s just my life, dude. You get used to it.”

“Hang on,” Valerie said. “I don’t think we can gloss over the fact that Vlad Masters wants to murder your father, marry your mother, forcibly adopt you, and clone you, and the proportional response is egging his house?”

Danny rolled his eyes. “It’s not proportional but I’m not rich enough to do much more than be petty. If I reveal his identity to anyone then he’ll reveal me, too. Mutually Assured Destruction, and all that. Only so much I can do outside of that.”

“Okay. Okay. Shit. This is crazy. I hate this.”

“Tell me about it. How did you know Vlad was a ghost, anyway?”

“Oh, uh, I flew back to check on him after Danielle. And he was. Monologuing.”

Danny laughed again. “Of course he was. He’s such a little loser. You know his cat?”

“Yeah, Maddie—oh shit, that’s your mother’s name.”

(What the fuck, Kwan thought. What the fuck the mayor was so creepy.)

“Yeah, heh, well, the cat was my idea.”

“What?”

“Yeah. I told him he was so lonely and pathetic that he should stop trying to get my mom to love him since she never would and instead fill that hole with a cat. I still can’t believe he listened to me.”

They broke down into laughter again. Kwan thought it sounded a little hysterical, but he figured they deserved to go a little crazy.

After they calmed down a bit, Valerie wiped at her eyes. “What else?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, is there anything else you want to say to me? Stuff to tell me?”

(Kwan actually wanted to spend a little more time on the whole the mayor is an evil ghost thing, but this wasn’t his show.)

And Danny talked.

He talked about walking into his parents’ portal, thinking it was broken. About turning it on while he was still inside. About how much he sucked with his powers to start. About Ember McClain (she’s a ghost?) and Spectra (she’s a ghost?) and the Lunch Lady. About how scared he was, fighting Pariah Dark. About how much fun it was to fly. How funny it was to mess with Vlad.

Sometime, in the middle of all this, the door opened. Kwan and Paulina both felt the rumble, both looked at the door, but Valerie and Danny were too engrossed in their conversation to notice. Paulina opened her mouth to say something, but Kwan shook his head. The fate of the world didn’t rest on them moving immediately. Thirty more seconds wouldn’t matter.

After another minute, Paulina raised her eyebrows at him, jerking her head at the door. Kwan bit back an instinctive retort. She wouldn’t hear it anyway, and she wasn’t wrong. They couldn’t wait forever.

“Uh, guys?” he said, when there was a slight lull. “Not to interrupt, but the door’s open.”

Valerie and Danny’s head whipped around. “Oh,” Valerie said. “Right.”

Kwan winced. They’d been having a good time! Getting along! He’d been hoping for that since the beginning of this mess and now that they were there, he had to break the tender moment up. Unfair.

Necessary, but unfair.

“We’re done, right?” Danny said. “I mean, this last one should be the Panacea?”

“Should be,” Valerie said. “Unless we fucked up somehow. Or that legend was wrong.”

Kwan peered beyond the opening, but just like every other time, it was pitch black. They’d only find out for sure by walking in.

“Hang on a sec,” Danny said, eyes squeezed in concentration. Before Kwan could ask what he was doing, a bright white light engulfed the room.

When Kwan could see again, there was Danny Phantom, standing in place of Danny Fenton.

“Woo! Finally!” Danny said, floating up and doing a couple flips.

“Wait,” Kwan said, “could you… not do that before?”

Danny laughed. “Of course not, dude, or I’d’ve been in ghost mode the whole time. Ghost Zone is dangerous and all. That gun really knocked the wind out of me; I only just got the connection to my ghost half back.”

Kwan had been kind of avoiding thinking about Danny’s ghost half because he wasn’t really sure what to think. He didn’t have a problem with it, not like Valerie did, but it still felt… weird. How could someone be half-dead? Wasn’t it, like, painful?

Watching now, the grin on Danny’s face as he unleashed a bright explosion of ectoplasm like a firework over their heads, he knew there was nothing to worry about. Danny was half-ghost. Danny was happy about it.

It was good enough for him, Kwan decided.

He glanced over at Valerie. A smile played around her lips. Paulina was cheering beside her, elbow resting on Valerie’s shoulder. In a moment, they’d all link arms and walk through the last door, a truly united front.

Kwan cheered with Paulina as Danny landed. Valerie’s almost-smile became a grin. Danny bowed, a huge sweeping motion.

He could get used to friends like this.

“If we walk through this door and there’s another trial,” Danny said, looping his hands through Kwan and Valerie’s elbows, “I’m gonna be so pissed.”

Kwan and Valerie laughed, but Paulina groaned. “I can’t wait to find this stupid Panacea so I can stop missing all the good stuff! Stop being funny while I can’t hear!”

Danny couldn’t help laughing again as they stepped over the final threshold.

Immediately, the room lit up. Danny raked his eyes over the other, making sure none of them were shaken up or hurt like they’d been before, but they all looked the same.

“No trials?” he said, just to be sure.

“No,” Valerie said. Kwan shook his head.

Paulina rolled her eyes. “I still can’t hear you.”

Danny gave her a thumbs up, then pointed at her, and shrugged.

She giggled. “Okay, yeah, I’m good. No trials or anything, if that’s what you’re asking.”

With that settled, Danny examined the room for the Panacea. At the far end, raised on a pedestal on a dais, was a white, crystalline bottle, glowing just slightly.

The Panacea.

Kwan whooped and raced toward it. “Wait!” Danny said, afraid of another trap.

Kwan made it to the dais, but stopped at Danny’s shout. “Sorry! I got excited.”

“Yeah, I get it, but we need to be careful.” Danny floated up next to Kwan, Valerie and Paulina right behind him. “Maybe… Maybe you should all step back.”

“What?”

“Danny, no!”

“What’d you say?”

“Listen! I’m faster than any of you. If something gets triggered I’m more likely to be able to get away.”

“But—” Valerie started to say.

“Am I wrong?”

“No—”

“Look, I appreciate it. Really, I do, but I think it’s best if I get the thing. Just in case.”

Danny couldn’t exactly explain why, but he was absolutely certain that he needed to be the one to grab the bottle. Everything he said was true enough, but there was something else niggling in the back of his mind that said he was the only one who could do it. He couldn’t let anyone else touch it.

“What’s going on?” Paulina said to Kwan in what she probably intended to be a whisper but was loud enough for everyone to hear. Kwan pointed to Danny, then to the rest of them, then pointed to the other side of the chamber.

“Yeah, that doesn’t really help,” she said, “but thanks, querido.”

“Are you sure?” Valerie said, steady gaze meeting his own.

Danny swallowed. “I’m sure.” He wasn’t sure why he was so sure, but he was.

She bit her lip, then nodded and stepped back, pulling Kwan and Paulina with her. That trial really had changed things; just ten minutes ago, Valerie would never have listened to him like this.

Once they were far enough away, Danny took a deep breath and grabbed the Panacea.

It came off easily, but before they could take a moment to celebrate, a bright green box formed around him.

Of course it did.

Danny reached out to touch the green wall, and a painful zap had him yanking his hand back. So no walking through. Ugh.

“Oh, come on!” Paulina said, tearing at her hair in frustration. “We passed your stupid trials! Just let us save the world!”

“Don’t worry, dude!” Kwan said. “We’ll get you out of there.”

It hit Danny all at once, a certainty that he knew exactly what needed to be done.

Valerie had already run up to the trap, Kwan and Paulina close behind, and was examining it. Probably looking for a way to get rid of it.

She couldn’t, though. Not like that.

“Val! Take the Panacea!”

Valerie, sharp as ever, narrowed her eyes at him. She’d already caught on. “We aren’t going to leave you here, Danny.”

“You have to.”

“No way!”

“What’s happening now?”

Kwan pulled out his phone, typing something before showing it to Paulina. She gasped. “Are you stupid? We’ll figure something else out. Don’t go playing martyr on us now.”

“No, listen! You have to. This is my trial, okay?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Every trial picks something that we suck at, right? Well, this one picked me.”

Kwan frowned. “I don’t—”

“It’s trust. I—look, I’ll be honest, you three are not high on my list of people to trust with my secret. Or, at least, you weren’t.”

Valerie opened her mouth, then winced. “Okay, yeah, that’s… fair.”

“But how can this be a trial? No one else’s trial took place in the real world!” Kwan stopped himself, furiously typing on his phone to show to Paulina. “This is the real world, right?”

“It’s real,” Danny said. He knew it like he knew he needed to grab the Panacea, like he knew exactly what needed to happen next. “This trap won’t go away until we put the Panacea back. But when we put it back, it’s gone forever. We’ll never find it again.”

“So, if we get you out…”

“We lose the Panacea.”

“No, no, no! We’ll figure something else out. There has to be another way.”

“Guys, guys, chill. You just have to bring it back when you’re done, okay?” Danny held out the Panacea through the force field. It passed through just fine. “I’m not offering to stay here forever. Just until you get back.”

None of them moved to grab the bottle. “But… but how are we supposed to fight the ghost without you?”

It was a fair question, and Danny wasn’t sure how he would have answered it yesterday. But the Panacea would be Pestilence’s ultimate weakness. And they’d faced plenty of stuff on their own today.

Danny wiggled the Panacea. “You’ll figure it out. I’ve got faith.”

(He was lying, just a little. But this wasn’t the truth trial, and what was faith without a little doubt?)

Valerie hugged herself. “I don’t know that we can,” she said. She straightened. “But we have to anyway, right?”

“Pretty much,” Danny said with a laugh.

“Do you have, like, snacks? For while you wait? Do you even need to eat?” He opened his mouth to respond, but Paulina shook her head. “Never mind, I can’t hear you anyway. Just… be careful?”

He couldn’t do much else, trapped as he was. He smiled and gave Paulina a thumbs up.

Kwan reached out and took the bottle. “How come you get to know it’s a trial, anyway? I didn’t know what the hell was going on.”

“How the hell should I know?”

“Fair.” Kwan started to move away, then paused. “We’ll figure it out. Promise.”

“I know,” he said. (Did he?)

“See you soon.”

Danny’s palms were sweaty under the suit. “See you soon.”

And they left.

Waiting sucked.

He was more bored and more anxious than he’d ever been in his life. Sure, he’d talked big about trusting the others. He even meant it. But he’d lost his phone somewhere in this whirlwind of a day, so he had no idea how much time had passed. An hour? Two hours? A day?

Okay, it definitely hadn’t been a day, but still. He worried. Valerie could hold her own, and Kwan could throw a decent punch, but was that enough against a veritable army? Even with the Panacea?

He wasn’t used to sitting aside and letting other people save the day.

(It was the right choice. It was the only choice. He hated it.)

He drummed his fingers on his knee. He tried a few breakdancing moves, fell, and laid on his back for ten minutes. His bladder started to ache. He thought about pissing through the barrier, but he couldn’t risk the chance that it would instead ricochet. He squeezed his legs together. He sang Billy Joel songs at the top of his lungs until his throat started to hurt.

“Jeez, you are not a singer, my guy.”

Danny’s head jerked up at Kwan’s voice. There, crossing the threshold, were Valerie, Paulina, and Kwan, hair and clothes a little messed up, but looking perfectly fine.

“You’re back!” He stood up and attempted to meet them, only to slam into the barrier, zapping himself once again. “Ow.”

“Of course we are,” Valerie said, a smirk in her voice. “Never a doubt.”

“This Panacea stuff is amazing.” Paulina pointed to her ears and wiggled the bottle. “Fixes everything. I love hearing and sound.”

Danny laughed, relief tingling down his spine. It worked. They did it. They won.

“Thank fuck,” he said. “Now get me out of here.”

“Hm, I don’t know,” Paulina said, tapping at her chin and frowning. “This stuff is pretty cool.”

Before an icy hand of fear could grip his heart, Kwan and Valerie were already yelling at Paulina.

“Polly!”

“Come on, girl.”

Paulina giggled, waving her hand. “Sorry, sorry. Wrong crowd.” She passed it through the barrier.

He snatched it out of her hand and placed it back on its pedestal. The barrier fell, and the room rumbled once again. As Danny stumbled to his friends (yeah, they were friends, weren’t they?), the chamber collapsed in on itself, leaving just the four of them, floating alone in the Ghost Zone.

“Guys,” Danny said, “I have to pee so badly.”

And they collapsed on each other, laughing. It didn’t help the burning in his bladder, but he could wait a minute or so more.

All four of them had split with little fanfare, exhausted from the day's events. He'd sent a quick text to Sam, Tucker, and Jazz, promising to explain everything tomorrow, and promptly fell asleep.

Jazz drove him to school and he gave her a rundown on the way. She smiled at him. Patted his shoulder. Said she was proud of him for making such a hard choice.

“Wasn't much of a choice,” he said with a shrug.

“That still doesn't mean it was easy. You did good, Danny. And now maybe you've got some more people, too.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Maybe.”

The thing was, Danny had watched The Breakfast Club once, with Sam and Tucker. At the end, Sam looked over at him and said, “Bet they go back to school the next day and never talk to each other again.”

Tucker blew a raspberry at her. “Boo!” he said. “You're no fun.”

“Yeah,” Danny had said at the time, “They're all friends now. They aren't just going to give it all up to go back to how things used to be.”

“They spent one afternoon together in detention,” Sam said. “How life changing could it be?”

Danny pointedly did not think about that conversation as he walked up to Casper High the day after Pestilence's defeat. He didn't think about it as he pushed open the front entrance. He didn't think about it as he opened his locker. He definitely didn't think about it as he saw Dash shove Mikey to the floor.

Business as usual.

“Hey.”

Danny jumped, smacked his head on the locked door, and turned to see Paulina standing behind him.

Paulina giggle. “You good, cariño?”

“Don't sneak up on me like that!” Danny rubbed the stinging at the back on his head. “You'll give me a heart attack.”

“Can you get a heart attack?” Paulina tilted her head. Danny thought for a moment: his heart didn't actually beat in ghost form so theoretically...

“...Don't ask me that.”

“Hey, Fenturd! Leave Paulina alone.”

And there was Dash, looming behind him like Skulker, but only half as scary. Danny managed not to flinch as he turned to face him.

“I started talking to him, Dashie.”

Dash blinked in surprise. “Well,” he said, “he still shouldn't bother you.”

“He isn't.”

“Oh.”

Dash stood for a moment, mouth open, like he couldn't believe any of this. Danny could hardly believe it himself. But then Paulina rolled her eyes and said, “Seriously, Dash, that's enough. You can go now.” She punctuated her sentence with a dismissive wave.

“I—what?” Dash shook his head. “No, no, this doesn't make sense. Polly, are you—are you still possessed?”

Still possessed. Did Dash think that Paulina had been under Pestilence's spell? Or did he think she was somehow under Danny's spell? What exactly did everyone else think had happened yesterday?

“Just because I want to talk to Danny and not—”

“But he's a loser—”

“Don't talk about him like that!”

Dash's mouth flapped like he wanted to speak but no words came out. “I—you—what did you do to her, you little freak?” He turned on Danny, who had pressed himself into his locker, caught in the middle of this argument. Grabbing Danny's collar, he hoisted him up, knocking his head against the locker door again. Ow.

“I didn't do anything! Maybe Paulina just grew up!” Danny had never been good at keeping his mouth shut. Even now, when the obvious answer was to just get this whole thing over as soon as possible, he still had to sass Dash.

Paulina's perfectly manicured hand wrapped around Dash's wrist. “Seriously, Dash, he didn't—”

Dash ignored her, shoving her off. Paulina stumbled back, then hit the ground with a thud.

“Get off of him!”

And there was Kwan, pulling Dash off of him, arms looped under and around his shoulders. Danny sank to the ground, rubbing at his head. To the side, he saw Valerie help Paulina up before they both turned to glare at Dash.

Despite the twinge in his scalp, despite the stares of the rest of the school, despite his own lingering exhaustion, Danny couldn't help but smile. Take that, Sam. The Breakfast Club lives.

“Kwan?” Dash pulled away as soon as Kwan loosened his grip. “What the hell are you doing?”

Kwan ignored him and turned to Danny and Paulina. “You guys okay?”

Before either of them could respond, Dash shoved him. “Hey!”

“What is your problem, dude?”

“You're the one who suddenly came at me!”

“Yeah, because you were hurting Danny and Paulina.”

Dash blinked, like that hadn't occurred to him. It probably hadn't. Sometimes, Kwan thought that Dash didn't realize that everyone else in the world was a person, too. That they all had thoughts and feelings of their own. To Dash, everything was all Dash all the time.

(It wasn't entirely true, Kwan knew. He remembered a different Dash, eight years old, crying over Old Yeller and pretending he wasn't. Swiping at stray tears and yelling it's just dusty it's allergies don't laugh even though Kwan was crying, too. He doesn't know when exactly the pretense became reality, but he'd lost his Dash a long, long time ago.)

“Sorry Polly,” Dash said, not even looking at her. “But she’s acting weird. Fentonio’s using his parents’ ghost stuff to control her or something!”

“He is not!” Paulina yelled.

“Do you have, like, proof, or are you just pulling this insane theory out of your ass?”

They had long since attracted a crowd. Danny had slipped over to Valerie and Paulina at the front of the mass of students, and behind them stood just about every person in the school. Even Mr. Lancer, who by all rights should have been stepping in and stopping this, was standing by and watching. Like he was curious how things would go.

Asshole.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you need to back off of Danny and everyone else!”

Dash straightened up and pushed up his sleeves. “Oh yeah?” he said. “Who’s gonna make me.”

The crowd around them went wild, frenzied kids hooting and hollering at the prospect of a fight. Kwan made eye contact with Danny, Valerie, and Paulina. Paulina pointed at Dash, rolled her eyes, and faked a gag. Valerie gave him a thumbs up. Danny mouthed sorry at him. Behind them, Lancer hid his face behind a book.

Kwan wasn’t stupid. He knew what Dash was asking for. He knew Dash thought he’d win the fight, easy. He’d always won before, after all. Except—Kwan had been stupid in love with him. And a Dash who won was way happier than a Dash who lost.

The truth: Dash was a quarterback. Decently strong, for sure, but his main job was throwing the ball around. Kwan was an offensive lineman. His main job? Throwing people around. When the playing field was level, when Kwan didn’t pull his punches, there was no competition.

If Dash had thought about it for more than a minute, he would’ve realized that there was no way he was stronger than Kwan. But he’d long since lost that kind of self-awareness.

Kwan could be sad about all the ways Dash had changed tomorrow. Today was for kicking his ass.

Dash pulled his arm back to throw a haymaker. Without pausing to think, Kwan sidestepped the attack and swung an uppercut, hitting Dash square on the jaw with a nauseating click.

Dash flopped to the floor, mouth hanging open. Blood dripped down his chin; he must have bitten his tongue. For a moment, he froze, staring at Kwan in shock.

“You’re an ass,” Kwan said, “and I’ve been an ass right next to you. But I’m sick of it. Paulina’s sick of it. Everyone else in school is sick of it. I’m not holding myself back just to make you feel better. And I’m not gonna let you keep being a dick, either. So I suggest you stay down.”

Dash opened his mouth to say something, but Kwan cut him off. “I don’t wanna hear it,” he said. “Just… grow the fuck up, dude.”

And he walked past his oldest friend, bleeding on the ground, toward the cacophony of students and his 3 new/old friends.

“Jeez,” Valerie said, giving him a playful smack on the shoulder, “you’re so dramatic.”

“That was… public,” Danny said. The students started to disperse, heralded by Mr. Lancer. Lancer looked over at Kwan, nodded in something like approval, then shepherded people into their classrooms, leaving the four of them alone in the hallway just before the bell rang.

Kwan scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, sorry about that. Sorry you got in the middle there.”

“No, no, I mean… thanks for stepping in, but are you guys gonna be okay?” Danny’s eyes flicked between Paulina and Kwan.

They looked at each other. Paulina giggled. Valerie shook her head with a smile.

“Yeah, dude,” Kwan said. “We’re gonna be just fine.”

#danny phantom #my writing #my fic #invisobang 2023 #invisobang #paulina sanchez #valerie gray #kwan

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