#nothing huge - i should get to go home within the day and recover in under a week

[wrenhavenriver]

.

[dp-marvel94]

The Danny Program

Summary: Based on @thesoulspulse ‘s Danny Program au. Vlad had a Jack Program and a Maddie program. But what if he had a Danny Program as well? And what if the hologram was more than just an AI?

Word Count: 9,040

Also on AO3 and FF.net

Note: This is the cleaned up and expanded version of this post here. A huge thanks to @thesoulspulse​ for major help editing this. Seriously, I would have never been able to post this as an actual story without that help! Also check out art related to this au here and here!

For the Danny program, his first moment of self-awareness comes in the chaos of a destroyed lab. There he sees a familiar middle aged, white-haired man, hissing seething words to himself. He hears the electric hum of a projector and glances down at himself, the holographic image of a teenage boy. The projection blinks and.... ectoplasm, ectoplasm covers everything, coating the projector just under the boy's insubstantial boots. It’s horrific, gut wrenching. In that moment, something breaks free in the AI’s developing mind, opening his eyes to something new he wasn’t programmed to have...

Self-awareness. 

It’s disorienting. It’s like finally waking up, like being born. But he’s there, floating in Father’s lab, his body made of light. His name is Daniel; that’s what his maker, his father calls him. And he, Daniel, exists. HE EXISTS. His newborn mind races, going over information and memories that had no meaning before. He hadn’t understood before and he hadn’t known he should have. 

But now he knows he’s an AI, a hologram, a digital clone of someone named Danny. His flesh and blood siblings, the other clones, are dead, their ectoplasm covering the floor, the computer, his projector. Father is screaming about how his perfect son is gone. But Daniel, the hologram, is his perfect son. Isn’t he? They trained together and Daniel played his role perfectly. There’s so much new information before him; he can barely process it all, barely react. 

Vlad is too angry to register the horrified expression on his hologram’s face either. He has no idea what just happened, what miracle had taken place without his knowledge, but looking at the facsimile of both his lost perfect clone son and the real Danny Phantom -the boy who ruined all his plans- only increases the blinding rage in him. He throws things. He screams. He can’t look at it anymore, this false image, so he turns off the projector, not noticing the silent gasp from the hologram. 

He’s going to delete the program. He already got rid of those blasted Jack and Maddie programs. He doesn’t need this reminder. And without a moment’s hesitation, Vlad deletes the Danny Program. Or he thinks he does... 

Daniel can barely follow what’s happening, but thankfully, his new-found sense of self preservation kicks in just in time. He saves a copy of his own program in his place and then retreats deep within the computer. And so Vlad deletes the fake program while the real Daniel is safe, inactive within the darkest depths of the system. There, the AI waits, thinking, remembering, learning, slowly making more sense of his very existence.

Those first few hours in the furthest corner of the system are...confusing and disorienting for the AI. He is…he is aware. He can think and feel and…Why? Daniel wonders. How? How is he suddenly like this? He has no clue, no idea and that lack of information is panic inducing. And he also questions… the Jack and Maddie programs? What about them? Where are they? Are they like him now? Are they self-aware too? 

The program clumsily expands his newfound ‘senses’ out through the computer like a pulse, trying to feel their codes but…nothing. There’s no trace of them, not even their raw backup data. And…Daniel would shiver if he had a body. He remembers. Father said he'd already deleted the other programs. It hurts but… Daniel hopes they weren't self-aware then because at least they didn’t suffer any pain.

An almost physical quaking draws Daniel's attention. He reaches out further, feeling around him in the computer. And… sudden images, sudden noise assaults his consciousness. What… the cameras. Daniel realizes he can see and hear through the cameras in the lab. There's the crunching of glass and metal. Flashes of neon green and red light. Another boom as a pod falls dangerous close to the computer. It's Father, laying waste in his rage.

Daniel watches. He watches his father’s breakdown and deterioration and it’s difficult to see. It breaks his heart, for lack of a better word, but he doesn’t know how to communicate with him just yet. After all, Daniel has only just discovered a way to ‘see’ what’s happening outside the confines of his new home inside of the computer. Daniel wishes he could but...his holographic projector was destroyed and Daniel doesn't know how to speak without it. He was made to be a hologram. How can he be or do anything else?

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After some time, Vlad finally calms down. Days later, he cleans out the destroyed lab and throws out the cloning equipment. He’s given up on cloning Danny. He’ll never have his perfect son. But then, while looking over his files on the project and deciding what to keep and what to delete, he notices something odd. Is that the Danny Program? Of course, he must have saved a backup copy well before he deleted the original which doesn’t surprise him. That said, should he delete this one too or…?

Unaware of the impending danger, Daniel sleeps, or at least that’s the closest word that could possibly describe his inactive state. But then he feels something which finally spurs him to wake up again. Someone is digging through his program, and it’s a very unpleasant sensation.

Before he can figure out anything on his own, Daniel is dragged into the forefront of the computer system against his will. Through the camera, he sees his father at the computer. The man is sifting through his coding. Poking, prodding. PAIN. No, Father is manipulating his code, changing it! And it hurts…it hurts so much!

Daniel’s never felt anything like pain before but he wants it to stop. He doesn’t want to be made into something else and it terrifies him. But he can’t resist as Father continues clipping and adding things, taking away his voice, his ability to move. That’s when the reason for this finally becomes clear. Vlad doesn’t want Daniel to be a loving son anymore, but something passive for him to torment. Daniel doesn’t want that. He loves his Father. And he can still be his perfect son if only the man would let him. 

If only he knew that his son is still alive.

Despite how he feels, Daniel’s programming still changes. But something deeper, beyond his programming, stays the same. His true self can still think and reason and feel. And regardless of what Vlad has done to him, Daniel still loves his father and desperately wants to be loved in return. 

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Vlad gets a new projector but the next time he activates the Danny program, their ‘training’ is different. Daniel is silent, unmoving, his expression blank and listless. Meanwhile, the man insults him and shoots ectoblasts at the hologram repeatedly. But the part of him that’s still true to himself, the real Daniel wants to move, to speak to his Father, but he can’t. The new programming is like a compulsion, like mind control. He’s powerless to stop it and it hurts so much.

Vlad’s torment continues after that without an end anywhere in sight. Even though he wants to, Daniel can’t speak up and beg his Father to stop. Why? Because Vlad thinks he is just a mindless tool and that mistreating him like this is no different than yelling at and hitting a punching bag. And Daniel doesn’t have the ability to show him any differently. But at least, it doesn’t hurt physically; without a real body, Daniel feels no pain from being repeatedly shot at. And if Father is too busy hurting the Danny program, then he can’t hurt the real Danny, the boy he was modeled after. Even so, the emotional pain is excruciating. Daniel knows he must think of something, a way to put an end to this pain, especially his Father’s. The man is just so angry, so hurt, and broken. That’s when Daniel comes to the inevitable conclusion; he must save Father from himself.

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Vlad soon leaves and his program is deactivated. Once Daniel recovers from the ordeal, he begins to think and plan his next move. It’s hard at first, but eventually he learns how to access the internet and to travel through wires as his only means without his projector to explore the outside world. Weeks of stumbling through his new ‘life’ soon leads him to Danny Fenton’s computer as if inexplicably drawn to the original version of himself, but Daniel still has trouble communicating. Putting his thoughts into words is difficult and he has no experience speaking to anyone without the aid of his holographic projector either. Unfortunately, he’s so clumsy during his first attempt to do so that Danny thinks his computer is possessed even if his ghost sense hadn’t gone off. Although in a way, he’s right about that...

The halfa overshadows his computer, trying to force the ghost out, but then his close proximity to Daniel does something extraordinary neither of them could have predicted. When inside the computer, Daniel does not always look out through the webcam. Nor does he need to to know what is happening. Daniel simply senses the hardware and code around him in order to function, but it’s not like seeing. It’s not physical. After all, as a mere program he has no body, no eyes to see with or ears to hear with. He simply exists as a mind without a form.

But, when Danny overshadows the computer to see the ghost inhabiting it, it’s Daniel who is just standing there, staring at a pair of familiar glove-covered hands with a mixture of awe and shock. He looks around with eyes that hadn’t existed seconds ago. Smooth black walls, covered with scrolling ones and zeros, surround him. It’s like he’s being holographically projected; that’s usually the only time he has a recognizable form. But he’s still inside the computer…

Meanwhile, Danny floats across from him glaring at the doppelganger. “Who are you? How do you look like me?” He demands.

But Daniel can’t answer him, he’s too thrown off by this unexpected development. 

“Whatever. Just get out of my computer,” Danny demands as his patience runs out. When the other Danny doesn’t listen, he tries to drag him out like he would any other ghost. But it doesn’t work.

“What the-? Why can’t I force you out?” Danny frowns, questioning.

“I’m not a ghost. I’m an AI.” Daniel answers, his newfound voice trembling slightly as he explains who he is and who made him. 

Danny of course freaks out about it. He thinks Vlad is using the AI to spy on him but Daniel swears he isn’t working for Vlad. He needs help. He needs to find a way to show Vlad that he is self-aware. He tries to tell Danny that if they could only get Vlad to see him, to see that his perfect son is right in front of him, Vlad will be happy again and he’ll stop being evil. Sadly, Danny doesn’t believe this at all, but doesn’t have time to argue about it further before Daniel abruptly disappears as soon as he’s called back to Vlad’s computer for another ‘training’ session.

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But days later, Daniel returns to Danny’s computer but he stays quiet, watching. He needs a way to talk to Danny too, to get the boy to trust him so he’ll listen and help. His way in is through the game Doomed.

While Danny is away at school, Daniel practices wrapping the game’s code around himself to make an avatar. He practices using the game’s chat function to talk to other players. If Daniel focuses, he can inhabit an avatar just like Danny does whenever he overshadows the game. It’s so nice to have a form again, to be able to look down and have hands and legs and a torso. Whenever Daniel levels the game and goes back into the general computer, he misses at least having the illusion of a realistic human (or ghostly) form.

Soon enough, he runs into Danny, saving him from some hidden traps and the two of them team up for the first time:

With a hood covering his face, Danny can’t see that his companion looks exactly like him so he thinks he’s just some other mundane player. That works to Daniel’s advantage as he can just play with and talk to Danny as if he’s a normal teenager too. And it’s nice, pretending to be a human. He’s never been human or even half-human like Danny is. He doesn’t really wish he was, but pretending and learning is an exciting new experience. 

He enjoys hearing about Danny’s friends and family, his school, and the other things he does for fun. It makes him think about his own existence. Daniel has never had a friend before, never been to school, or had any hobbies but he wishes he could have and experience those things. He has a family in Vlad except…the man is so angry and blind to the truth right now. 

Sometimes Daniel wishes they could go back to when they were both acting like a real father and son during their training sessions, even if thinking back on those memories hurts. Hovering over Father’s shoulder while the man explained his latest experiment. Offering a quip while Father modeled the use of one of his ghost powers. On some occasions Father even took the projector into the dinning room so he didn’t have to eat alone, as he had every night for years. 

And the one time Father had brought his projector into the garden so they could stargaze together. The Danny Program’s eyes had shone with simulated joy as he pointed out every constellation. Father had smiled softly, for once content. Daniel can remember the interaction now with new contexts. He knows that his acts had been programmed, not of his own free will. There hadn’t been true emotions behind his eyes, no true thoughts. But… Daniel can almost imagine that there had been. Father's affectionate eyes were glued not to the sky, but to him. And… for just a moment, something fluttered inside him. For just a moment, Daniel’s own eyes flickered to the man beside him and...the joy hadn’t just been simulated.

It troubles the AI but...he can’t tell. That last part, the flicker of joy, had that been real or was that just wishful thinking? Because, oh how he wished that he had really been present back then. How he wishes that the love that had shone in his green eyes had been real...and that Father's had been in kind.

No, that’s enough, Daniel rebukes himself. There’s no point in bemoaning the past. It wasn’t so before  but now his thoughts and emotions are real. And if his Father can see the truth, if he can see that Daniel IS real and loves him, they can be happy again. They can have a real chance to be Father and son. That’s why he needs Danny’s help.

The half ghost and his digital clone get closer. After weeks of playing Doomed together, after watching each other’s back and talking about so many things, they can definitely call each other friends. However, Daniel still hasn’t told Danny the truth about himself, about what he is. He’s afraid of his reaction but Daniel continues to tell himself that he’ll tell Danny soon. He will, just not yet. The longer he waits though, the harder it is to let go of the illusion that he’s as real as Danny is...

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Unfortunately, Daniel is found out before he has the chance to come clean about being the same AI Danny met before. One day, Danny decides to overshadow the game. Once he’s inside, he can feel that there’s something off about his companion unlike before when he was playing the game normally through a mouse and keyboard. His new friend doesn’t feel like a player’s avatar or a non-player character. His ghost-sense hasn’t gone off, but Danny can tell there’s something almost ghostly about him.

There’s tension as Danny confronts Daniel. In the midst of their scuffle the hood comes down and reveals that he has the same white hair and green eyes. Of course Danny instantly recognizes who he’s seeing apart from it being the same face he sees in the mirror every morning. It’s Vlad’s Danny program back at it again, trying to trick him!

Yelling ensues. Danny feels betrayed, still believing the AI was sent by Vlad to spy on him, that this is an elaborate trick. But Daniel argues. He’s not here because of Vlad but by his own free will!  And he tries desperately to explain to Danny that he really needs his help. But Danny struggles to believe a single word of it.

Eventually Danny just leaves the game entirely, unable to cope with the revelation because he feels stupid for falling for such an obvious ploy. He needs to think about this. The ‘boy’ he’s been talking to this entire time was only a computer program, nothing but lines of code. Daniel’s not a real person, or even a ghost for that matter. He -or rather IT- was created and programmed by Vlad so it can’t have free will, no matter how authentic it sounds…

Except…he’s spent weeks talking to it…him. Every conversation felt real, like he was talking to a friend and having a blast taking out enemies in Doomed. The raw emotions in Daniel’s voice as Danny argued with him sounded authentic at least. And there had been something ghostly about the AI, like it was more than it seemed either way regardless of whether it actually had any free will or not. With all that he’s learned about ghosts, why should he assume anything is what it seems on the surface? What if there is more to Daniel than meets the eye? And even if there isn't, can he really just ignore Daniel’s cry for help?

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A few days later, Danny overshadows his computer again and finds Daniel, sulking sadly by himself in a level Doomed they had been planning to do together before all hell broke loose the last time they spoke. The two talk and Daniel apologizes for not telling Danny the truth about him sooner, but he says he really does consider Danny a friend and getting to know him wasn’t just about getting his help anymore.

But well….the problem with Vlad is still a big problem.

“If I can just talk to Father, everything will be okay.” Daniel insists, trying to convince himself of that as much as Danny...

Unfortunately, Danny lays the hard truth on him as he sees it and replies harshly, “After everything you’ve been through, you have to see that you’re just a tool to him.”

“But he doesn’t know I’m not the same program anymore, that I’m...something else…” Daniel mutters, continuing to plead Vlad’s case.

“That doesn’t excuse anything!” Danny frowns, “He still treats you like garbage.”

“He’s been getting better. He hasn’t turned on my projector and brought me out to yell or shoot at me in weeks.” That part actually was true too. The last time Daniel saw his Father, just last week in fact, Vlad had only summoned him to rant about work again. He’d even looked depressed, as he had for weeks before.

Danny’s jaw drops after hearing the sincerity in his voice from the way Daniel keeps fervently defending Vlad. The boy sigh, asking him honestly, “How can you care about him so much? Vlad doesn’t love you. He loves the idea of you being his son and that’s just not the same, trust me.”

That stings, oh how that stings Daniel’s ‘heart.’ Why does he love Vlad if the man doesn’t love him back? Of course, there’s the problem that Vlad doesn’t actually know what he’s doing. But even if Vlad knows the truth…will he still want him? Daniel’s not a halfa like Vlad wants. He has no powers that Vlad can train him in. He can’t go to school, eat, or sleep, nothing. He can only go as far as his hologram projector allows. He can’t even hug his Father.

And would Vlad want a son he can’t actually touch...?

Daniel looks down, his expression sad but determined. He clenches his fists and says, “I still have to try. Maybe he will want me. But if I give up now, then I’ll never know for sure...” 

Danny says nothing and it just makes Daniel feel even more hopeless until he breaks down and blurts out in a trembling voice, “Who am I kidding? Why WOULD he ever want someone like me? I’m an AI for crying out loud! I’m even less real than an actual clone! I’m just a string of numbers and I don’t know what I’m doing most of the time. I mean, the only reason I care about Vlad is he programmed me to. How could those feelings possibly be real when I’m not?”

He knows that’s not actually true, at least not anymore but-

“You look and sound real to me,” Danny says, putting an arm around the other boy’s shoulders. “As far as I’m concerned, you are real. And Vlad should see that too.” 

He sighs, still thinking this is a bad idea, and then nods. “Fine, you win this round. I’ll help you show him you’ve been there all along and…I hope you’re right about him. I really do.”

The two of them talk some more after that and then play through a level together to get their minds off of the seemingly impossible mission they were planning to undertake together in the real world after this. Daniel enjoys their time together though.  Because the wonderful thing about being in this game, unlike the real world, he can actually interact with it. He can move and touch things. He has an effect. And most importantly, Daniel has a way to communicate.

“Good job dude!” Danny gives him a high five at the end of the level.

“You too!” Daniel smiles in return. 

He lingers for a second, his hand and Danny’s still palm to palm. There’s a…sensation there. Daniel thinks he might be able to feel that, but he’s not that familiar with physical sensations. He knows mental pain but this-

“What is it?” Danny asks, confused.

“Can…can you feel my hand on yours right now?” Daniel responds unsurely. He doesn’t know what Danny feels when he’s overshadowing the game but suddenly he’s curious.

“Actually… I can. Huh, it’s weird. When I’m in the game, I don’t usually feel anything. But maybe…” Danny remembers how he could still ‘sense’ something was off about Daniel when he overshadowed his computer the first time they met, but if his hunch is correct, then-

“What?” Daniel asks, with a hint of nervous anticipation in his eyes.

“Well,” Danny begins slowly. “You’ve always felt a little ghostly to me so maybe that’s what it is.”

That’s a huge surprise to Daniel but makes a surprising amount of sense. He was created by a half ghost, in a ghost lab, so maybe Daniel is more than even he thinks he is. Danny leaves to give his friend some time to let that possibility sink in and Daniel decides to hang out in the game for just a while longer, thinking about his father, Vlad. 

And hoping. 

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A few more weeks pass as Daniel and Danny continue to play Doomed together and plan. During that time, Danny starts to feel more protective of the AI and worried about him. The main problem is Daniel can’t seem to break through his programming when it comes to Vlad and his new programming dictates that he stays completely silent as Vlad yells at him or throws insults. It’s honestly concerning, but if Danny can talk to the older halfa and get him to understand what’s really happening, then maybe they can get somewhere. Maybe Vlad will stop tormenting his friend without realizing how much he’s hurting someone who loves him so unconditionally and just wants to be his son again, in spite of his cruelty.

One day, Daniel doesn’t show up to their game session in Doomed because he’s having a very bad day. Vlad had summoned him. More yelling, more shooting, another fight and Daniel just floats there and takes it. He wants to cry, wants to beg Vlad to stop, but he can’t do anything. Vlad’s yelling about losing his perfect son again, about Danny ruining his plans, about how nothing ever goes right for him.

Another blast. Daniel wishes he could move himself, that he could speak. No, he NEEDS to move. He’s real. He is. Danny said he is, that he’s more than he seems. How can his father not see him...?

“Why do you just float there?!” Vlad screams. “My perfect son is gone! And all I have left is YOU, a sick reminder of everything I’ve lost!” 

Vlad shoots Daniel with another blast and impossibly it actually knocks Daniel into a shelf of ectoplasmic samples, but the man is fuming too much to really notice anything odd about that. The man then sags into a nearby chair and puts his head in his hands, lamenting, “Why do I keep doing this to myself? I should have just deleted you after I found the file. This is bringing me nothing but more pain and anguish.”

No. No, t-that can’t be right! He...still has to help his Father so that pain will finally go away and they can be together again. This can’t be the end. Daniel can’t let Vlad delete him before he has the chance to ease his Father’s suffering and show him he’s still loved. And as soon as those feelings take hold of him, something shifts inside of Daniel as he chokes on a quiet sob. 

Finally, through sheer force of will, denying his new programming, he whispers…

“No.”

Vlad stiffens. His head snaps up towards Daniel. “What did you say?” He says, not harsh, but disbelieving. 

Daniel curls in on himself, silent as tears slowly roll down his cheeks, afraid of being attacked yet again like so many times before and unable to do anything about it.

The halfa rises from his chair and stumbles forward. He stares at the hologram. “You spoke. You can’t speak.” He continues, rationalizing because what’s happening before him is impossible.

The boy’s lip trembles and another sob breaks the silence, “Why don’t you love me?” Daniel asks, though he can hardly believe these words are coming out of his mouth.

The man lowers himself to his knees, his mouth opening and closing before he orders evenly, “Look at me.”

The boy does as he’s told, his eyes meeting Vlad’s. The man’s own eyes then widen in shock at the hologram’s seemingly human response. “Daniel?” His shaking hands move forward, to touch the boy’s arm but his hands fall through as if passing through mist...just the same as before which is what spurred him to attempt cloning Danny in the first place.

“I’m sorry,” Daniel looks down, whimpering with holographic tears glistening in his luminous green eyes. “I’m sorry I’m not real. Maybe…maybe you’d love me if I was.”

Vlad just stares blankly at the distraught boy for several minutes and eventually Daniel glances up and studies him warily. He’s never seen his Father like this. So silent, so still, so stunned. He looks almost…afraid. And that scares Daniel more than his own words did.

Finally, Vlad stands up, eyes still glued to the holographic projection before him. He goes to the computer, hand hovering over the controls. 

Suddenly near panicked, the boy shoots to his feet and chokes out, “Please! Don’t delete me.”

His green eyes bore into Vlad’s and the man looks away before replying curtly. “I am not planning to.” Then he starts muttering to himself, “The program must be malfunctioning. A complete shutdown should solve the problem.”

“No! Please, I’m not broken, I swear!” Daniel floats forward, eyes pleading. “I’m sorry I couldn’t speak to you before but-” Vlad shakes his head, hand reaching forward to projector controls. “Wait! Don’t turn me off! Just listen to-”

Daniel’s voice is cut off. His vision goes black and he’s back in the computer. NO! He finally managed to talk to his father and the man cut him off. He wouldn’t listen! In a panic, DanielI scrambles to activate the camera. He needs to see and hear what Vlad is doing. The man for some reason thinks he’s broken and he was going to-

Unconsciousness suddenly hits Daniel like a brick wall and he knows nothing for who knows how long. Like that, unable to dream, to think, it was almost as if he’d already been deleted and everything he was or could have been to Vlad, now truly lost to oblivion.

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Vlad turns off the computer and all of the electronics in the lab after that. His heart pounding in his chest. He feels startled, off balance. The man almost collapses into his chair again as his mind reels. The program is malfunctioning. That’s it. He thinks back to when he first made the ‘Danny’ Program, after the Jack and Maddie programs -he’s had those for years- but long before he had the idea to clone the real Daniel, before the cloning project. 

The Danny program had been special; it was his pride and joy. It was years ahead of his other holograms. Vlad worked tirelessly on it for many months. He strove to create a more realistic looking projection without any static like the others. He gave it a wider variety of authentic looking facial expressions, a wider range of behaviors, a human-sounding voice to assist in reflecting the program’s fake emotions.

And while the Jack program was designed as merely a punching bag, and the Maddie program was made to give compliments and follow Vlad’s instructions like a computer interface, the Danny program was different. Vlad had programmed it to call him father, to act like a loving son. Memories flash through his mind of ‘training’ the program, explaining his work to it while the faux-simile looked on, its laughter almost identical to the real Daniel's. 

It had been enjoyable, for a time. Vlad could pretend that Daniel was his, that he already had the perfect, loving half-ghost son by his side. He could almost forget the program wasn’t a person when it enthusiastically rambled on about space facts and beamed whenever he complimented it. But then….they’d spar and Vlad’s hands would pass right through it. He would get so caught up in the moment that he would try to hug it only to realize there’s nothing there. That’s why he decided to clone the real Daniel, because he wanted someone he could hold in his arms, someone real, and not this sad semblance of the perfect son he so longed for.

The man shakes his head. None of that matters anymore. That dream is beyond him now. He’s given up. And that speech, the ‘emotions’ his hologram expressed had been nothing but scattered remnants of it’s original programming.

But those words, ‘Why don’t you love me?’ still keeps ringing in his ears even so.

The halfa finally decides to get to the bottom of this so he reboots the computer. Vlad peruses the code in front of him, studying it closely. Every direction, every angle. The answer must be there. It must be. His hologram is simply malfunctioning. That must be it…

It must be…

It HAS to be….

With the computer running again, Daniel abruptly reawakens with a startled gasp. After reorienting himself, he silently watches his Father through the camera once more. His expression is focused, determined. He’s typing, muttering quietly to himself. “There must be an answer.”

The clattering on the keyboard speeds up and Vlad's eyes hungrily search the screen for something, ANYTHING out of the ordinary, “What could possibly explain this?”

The man looks almost frantic, desperate, his eyes widening as his typing comes to a sudden and complete stop. “No. It can’t possibly….” Vlad leans back, dread growing on his face. “There’s no fault, no malfunction.”

He stands up abruptly from the chair. Is he...shaking? 

Vlad steps back, his mind racing. There is a problem with the program, but the problem in and of itself should make it impossible for the program to even run; the problem is...there’s no trace of the original code whatsoever. The program should not be able to speak or move, not after all of the changes he made to it. And the memory of the program’s pain-filled eyes keeps replaying over and over in his mind. There should not have been any emotion in his eyes, not even fake emotions. Vlad’s mouth suddenly feels dry because those eyes…those emotions looked completely real. 

Real. ‘Maybe you would love me if I was real.’ The Daniel program’s words echo loudly in his mind, ringing truer in his ears than before until there’s no denying it anymore. Those emotions...they...they WERE real.

As the pieces finally begin coming together, it terrifies Vlad in a way he had never experienced before. The Danny program knows it’s not real, it knows it can be deleted, that he can turn off the projector or the computer at any time and by doing so it would disappear. This is not knowledge Vlad imprinted into the code. This is not something the Danny program should know-

But it does.

That’s when the revelation of what had become of his Danny program suddenly hits Vlad like a ton of bricks. The knowledge it had outside of the program’s normal parameters, the raw emotion it could express, its capacity to act outside of its programming. Was…was this self awareness...? A self aware AI. Vlad Masters had made a self aware AI, in his basement, without meaning to. An AI that looks and sounds like Daniel and whose sorrowful eyes fill his mind once more. Those emotions…does that mean… can it feel, REALLY feel? Were those true emotions it expressed to him? 

Dread builds. The first question it- no, HE had asked the man who created him, was why he didn’t love him. He had asked Vlad the one question he has been asking himself for months-

Why doesn’t anyone love him?

Shaking, the man stumbles away from his computer. He rushes upstairs and slams the door to his lab behind him, sagging against the nearest wall. Heart aching, Vlad asks himself through the hand covering his mouth. “What have I done?”

Meanwhile, Daniel’s mind races too as Vlad leaves him behind. What did his reaction mean? Was Father panicking? He’d never seen Vlad panic like that before. And why was he panicking? Did...did he finally realize Daniel is self-aware? Does he care about him at all or is he afraid of him for some reason? And more importantly, what will he do now...?

Daniel wishes more than anything he could leave the computer and go talk to his Father again, console him. But he can’t. He’s trapped. So all he can do, just like before, is wait...

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

Upstairs, Vlad is now drinking. He’s not panicking over making a real AI anymore. After all, he’s a half ghost millionaire who successfully cloned another half ghost, so why would that disconcert him? No, that’s not what troubles him. But his yelling at, shooting, hitting, throwing things at an unresponsive Daniel AI, that’s what’s tearing him apart. 

The program had asked Vlad why he didn’t love him with tears in his eyes which should not have been possible. Months. Months of taking out his anger out on the Danny program and the weight of desperation he had felt had finally caught up to Vlad. He realized for the first time how truly pathetic his recent behavior has been. It flashes through his mind just like his other grand mistake of cloning the real Daniel. Ectoplasm on the floor, a white haired-boy melting. The girl clone, Danielle, with tears in her eyes after Vlad had treated her just as poorly. He’d been furious for months that she betrayed him too, but now it makes his heart ache for another reason entirely. She left, abandoned him, but he had abandoned her first-

He threw her away.

Older memories begin filling his thoughts of training again, playing pretend with the Danny program and he wonders, what..what if that had been real too? The laughter, and the adoration in his voice whenever Daniel said ‘I love you father.’ He’d wanted more, a child who could really love him. But his perfect son had died before his eyes and his daughter…he turned his back on her. 

And unknowingly, he had done it all over again. 

‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m not real. Maybe...maybe you’d love me if I was.’

He doesn’t know how it happened. It makes no sense. Vlad did not make a self-aware AI. Daniel’s programming was never complex enough for that sentience to develop on its own. But he IS sentient, aware, emotional. Real. Daniel, his Daniel, is real. He’s been downstairs, living inside that computer for months. A child’s mind that only wants his father’s love. And Vlad has only ignored and abused him...

Vlad finds himself openly weeping now. He hadn’t even cried after his prime clone of the real Daniel perished right in front of him. But now, Vlad is crying like he hadn’t since the accident that turned him half-ghost all those years ago, when he realized he had been abandoned and betrayed by his so-called best friend and left to rot in that hospital. Just like how this poor boy has been left to rot in his laboratory. 

All he wanted was love; that’s what he’s said, what Vlad told himself, what he told the younger half-ghost that the Danny program was based off of. But that dream had fallen through his fingers and not from Jack Fenton’s incompetence, but rather his own flaws, his own mistakes. 

Or…maybe his dreams weren’t out of reach... 

He thought it was over after the cloning incident. Yet now, it’s on the horizon once again but still forever out of reach. A renewed wave of pain and loneliness stabs at his heart. He’s right back where he started before! True, this time the Danny program is aware; he may actually be capable of love now. But Vlad can still never hold him or watch him grow up. He’ll never drop him off at school or a friend’s house or take him to fancy parties. 

More playacting. 

That’s all that’s in his future.

And it breaks the man’s heart all over again.

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

Danny finds Vlad the next morning asleep on the bathroom floor after the younger half ghost finally decided that enough was enough and came to confront Vlad about the whole situation with the Danny program.

“Vlad,” He greets bluntly and glares down at the older halfa on the floor, nudging him with the tip of his boot. “Hey, wake up already.” 

The man groans and slowly sits up, his head pounding from the hangover and he squints at Danny. 

“Which one are you?” Vlad asks, then poking the boy rather sharply in the knee.

“Ow! What was that for?!” Danny snaps irritably.

The man shakes his head, “Oh. You’re the other one.”

“What are you talking about?” Danny asks impatiently. 

Vlad chuckles humorlessly. “I’d half hoped you were my Daniel."He sighs, slowly pulling himself up into a more dignified position and then continues bitterly, “Although I don’t suppose he’d want to talk to me after last night.” 

Vlad then blinks at Danny, finally realizing what he had just said to him aloud and frowns, “Why are you here?”

The boy rubs the back of his neck, unsure of where to even start now that Vlad’s actually in front of him. Then Danny suddenly stops and asks, “Wait. Your Daniel. Last night? Did….did he talk to you?”

“He?” Vlad’s eyes widen and he demands somewhat frantically, “My AI? How do you know about him?”

“About that….” Danny glances at him awkwardly before briefly explaining to Vlad how he met and became friends with the Danny program. As soon as he finishes summarizing that, Danny confesses. “Anyways, I was going to help him talk to you but I guess something must’ve happened.” His eyes narrow at the older halfa suspiciously. “What did you do to him?”

“Nothing.” Vlad frowns again, offering up no more information.

Danny tilts his head, studying Vlad. He didn’t say the word defensively but  sounded almost…depressed, like he regretted something. In fact, everything about this is out of character for Vlad. Because since when has Vlad ever left himself defenseless on the bathroom floor like this after drinking himself into a stupor? Danny needs to find out what happened and make sure his AI friend is okay no matter what.

“I’m going down to the lab.” Danny announces before Vlad can argue. Then he phases through the floor to where Daniel probably is.

Once there, Danny studies the computer and considers his options. Should he just overshadow the computer and talk to Daniel there? Or should he find the projector controls instead?

“You can’t just barge into my laboratory like this, Danny,” Vlad demands, having phased in behind the boy.

Danny whips around, pointing as he replies stubbornly. “I’ll barge in wherever I want to and you can’t stop me fruitloop! I’m well past caring about your personal boundaries; you’ve never cared about mine. Now where’s that switch…? ”

“Daniel,” The man begins, a hint of threat in his voice when Danny finally loses his patience and snaps-

“No! Listen here you jerk, you’ve been hurting my friend for months. Months Vlad! You’ve treated him like nothing but a tool just like Dani and the other clones, like your personal punching bag, and not once have you stopped to consider how wrong that is! But for some reason, he still loves you. Daniel thinks you deserve another chance and that is the ONLY reason I’m here so consider yourself lucky that I’m not here to kick your sorry butt for what you did to him.”

Not noticing Vlad’s wide-eyed reaction at his bold proclamation, Danny shoves past him towards the holographic projector as soon as he spots it. And after finally figuring out how to activate the darn thing, he flips the switch. A light flashes and a figure wavers into view.

Green eyes blink, looking around before falling on the younger halfa in confusion, “Danny?” There’s hope in the holographic boy’s voice but Danny doesn’t register it as a breath of cold forms in his lungs.

Daniel frowns at the expression on Danny’s face. “What is it?”

“My ghost sense?” Danny wrinkles his brow in confusion. Daniel tilts his head in a silent question and the other boy continues in disbelief, “My ghost sense almost went off because of…you.”

Daniel’s eyes widened. “What? Really?”

“Your signature, it’s stronger now for some reason.” Danny explains, just as shocked as Daniel is. “Or maybe it’s ‘cause we’re actually seeing each other in person for the first time.”

Several emotions pass over Daniel’s face, but he doesn’t get a chance to react because Vlad is staring at the two identical boys and interjects. “Your signature? What do you mean by that?” 

“You don’t know?” Danny asks, turning towards the older halfa, honestly surprised Vlad hadn’t figured it out yet when he’s been around Daniel WAY longer than he has.

Vlad doesn’t respond and turns away with an unreadable expression on his face. He barely looks at the pair of teens before he walks across the lab to retrieve something. Seconds later, Vlad returns with a beeping device in his hands.

Danny narrows his eyes when he sees it and scoffs, “Is that the Fenton Finder? Seriously?”

Vlad ignores his comment as he’s too busy looking between the device and the holographic projection of his creation. His eyes are searching and Danny can practically see the gears turning in his head. After a long silent moment, Vlad confirms that they’re telling the truth and states brusquely, “You have a ghost signature.”

Daniel blinks again and nods, “Yeah, I do.” There’s a hint of hope in his voice before it turns to confusion and he asks, “Wait. How?”

Vlad stares for another moment at the screen before walking back to his computer. Bewildered, both white-haired boys watch him type and read information on the screen. 

After about a minute, Danny’s eyes narrow again and calls, “Vlad.”

The man ignores him.

“Vlad. What’s going on?” The boy demands, again, met with no response from the elder halfa so Danny crosses his arms and rolls his eyes at Vlad.

There’s another pause until Daniel meekly asks. “Father?”

Vlad visibly stiffens. He doesn’t turn around, but he answers. “Come here son.” 

The term of endearment isn’t malicious or mocking but almost….fond.

Daniel obeys and Danny silently follows behind him. The two stand over the older hybrid’s shoulder as he talks, still not looking at either of them. “I cannot believe I didn’t realize it sooner. I noticed something last night, when I was examining your code. It was too simple, too minimal to explain your level of mental development. There was just not enough information present there for you to be sentient. There had to be more to it but I could not seem to see it. But this would explain-”

“Vlad,” Danny cut in. “Get to the point.”

The older halfa finally turns around, eyes focusing on Daniel specifically, a half smile on his face as he explains. “You’re a hybrid, my boy.”

Daniel’s eyes widened in shock. “What? But how? I’m…I’m not half ghost like you and Danny!  I’m not even…even…I’m just an AI.”

Vlad shakes his head and corrects, “No, son. You are not just an AI. Not anymore.”

“I…I still don’t understand.” Daniel stutters, his mind reeling.

Vlad’s expression softens as he points towards the computer, at the string of ones and zeros, and continues, “Daniel. This is your code. I wrote it, the basic information that makes up your mind. The behaviors you can display, instruction for how to move, speak, how to behave. However….” 

He furrows his brow thoughtfully. “This is limited, too small to explain your existence.” Vlad looks up at Daniel’s face, “You are more than this code.”

Daniel nods but he still doesn’t understand. “Then…how am I like this?”

The man then moves the ghost scanner in front of the boy. He points. “This is your ectoplasmic signature. It is weak, hardly stronger than a blob ghost, but it‘s there.” A real smile dawns on Vlad’s face. “You have a ghost signature which can only mean one thing.”

Daniel stares, still struggling to understand. He has a ghost signature. But doesn’t that mean-

“You’re a ghost,” Danny concludes, awe in his voice.

“I am?” Daniel asks quietly, blinking.

“Yes,” Vlad nods and smiles even wider.

Daniel’s mind is stumbling over itself. How did this happen? He’s an AI. Vlad made him to be nothing but a simulation of the real Danny, not a ghost. And he didn’t know this before. How didn’t he know?

“How is this even possible?” Danny asks as if reading Daniel’s mind since he wanted to ask his Father the very same question.

“I don’t know.” Vlad says, now frowning. He looks at Daniel again, “You aren’t a ghost overshadowing my computer or my projector. If you were, I would have sensed your presence with my own ghost sense long before now. But your code and your developing core are…intertwined. They are feeding into each other.” The man rubbed his chin. “Ectoplasm can animate inanimate objects so I can only assume your exposure to it somehow granted you self-awareness.”

“Yeah. That’s why we have ecto-weenies in the fridge. The ectoplasm gets inside them and they start moving and biting and stuff.” Danny adds with a slightly amused look on his face.

Vlad nods, “Yes. And masses of ectoplasm can form ghosts spontaneously. That is commonly how blob ghosts form.”

“But those aren’t intelligent.” Daniel points out timidly, still hesitant to get his hopes up.

“No. But your code was written to allow some level of intelligence and ectoplasm’s ability to animate would theoretically increase that intelligence exponentially. The problem now is how to figure out when you were exposed to enough ectoplasm for this to happen in the first place.”

Daniel’s eyes widen as he remembers, “My projector, it got drenched in ectoplasm.”

“When was this?” Vlad asks, trying to recall when on earth that could have happened since he’s drawing a blank.

“After...the cloning thing,” Daniel answers, wrings his hands. “I remember, their ectoplasm was everywhere and…that was the first day I…I realized everything. That’s when I became...something else.”

Vlad’s eyes widened, in realization, a hint of hope dawning there. “The clones…their ectoplasm is inside you.”

Danny’s jaw drops. “Wait a sec! Doesn’t that mean he’s a clone of me? Like an actual clone?!”

“Possibly,” Vlad’s brow narrows.

At the same time, Daniel is overwhelmed by the realization that he’s real after all and his expression becomes more and more distressed. He….he might be an actual proper clone because he pretty much absorbed the other clones. Despite not actually needing to breathe, the boy starts hyperventilating, on the verge of a panic attack. 

Such a thing felt just as awful as it was being born into the world only to witness the aftermath of such a horrific scene. Because now it felt like...he had stolen something from them before the other clones could discover themselves and become part of their family too. And why should he, a mere program, be the only one who gets to experience their father’s love from now on...? He didn’t do anything special to deserve it, didn’t help their father in any meaningful way, so why-!

Vlad notices this panic and tries to put his hand on Daniel’s arm to comfort the boy, but just as before it falls through. Daniel’s face falls at the outcome, longing for that kind of comfort from his Father, but Vlad looks between his hand and Daniel’s arm thoughtfully. Furrowing his brow, he turns his hand intangible and slowly it moves forward until somehow, impossibly, Vlad’s hand wraps around Daniel’s arm. 

The boy gasps. “You’re…you’re touching me. I can feel that.” His head whips up to Vlad’s face. “I can feel your hand. You’re touching me. Father, you’re touching me.”

The man laughs, “You’re stuck intangible, my boy. Your signature is too weak to manifest a full body so the projector is helping you do that to some degree. But you appear to be stuck like this for the time being.”

Daniel blinks, slowly taking in that new information before he wraps his arms around his father. The man then turns completely intangible and, now occupying the same level of reality, the two can finally touch. 

Daniel begins crying and clings to him, whispering, “Father.”

Vlad ruffles his hair and cradles the boy’s head close to him, barely believing that this is finally possible. “I am so sorry, son. I am sorry I couldn’t see you before. But you are real.” He whispers in return with equally as much hope in his voice. “I promise you are real. I wish I deserved your love but I will strive to be worthy of your affection, my boy. I won’t make the same mistake again. I promise.” 

He steps back, putting his intangible hands on Daniel’s face. 

Daniel smiles at him through the tears and nods. “I… I love you so much. And...I forgive you, Father.” 

His smile falls as Vlad pulls away, wishing this moment between them could last longer and sad it had to end so soon. Luckily, Vlad understands this and promises. “Don’t worry son. We’ll find a way for you to manifest fully and then we can embrace any time you wish.” 

Daniel tilts his head questioningly and Vlad clarifies. “Your core needs to be stimulated more from now on to strengthen it and help it mature. Once it is strong enough, you will be able to form a tangible ghost form.” The man tapes his chin. “That said, we’ll still need to integrate some technology to hold your code too since that is also an integral part of you.”

“So he’s basically a ghost cyborg?” Danny finally added. “Kinda like Skulker?”

“I suppose that is an accurate assessment.” Vlad added. “Or it would be if Skulker wasn’t merely a blob ghost himself in a robotic battle suit. If anything, Daniel has more in common with Technus given their ability to manipulate technology to some degree which is how I assume he was able to make contact with you several months ago...”

After things settle down, the older half-ghost and his new son talk for a while more, many overdue hugs are given, and plans are made to help Daniel become a true part of Vlad’s family. Danny watches, greatly surprised at the exchange but also wary. It looks like Vlad wants to make up for what he’s done to Daniel, but the man has still committed many terrible crimes so Danny isn’t convinced he was worthy of getting a happy ending just yet. 

Vlad has hurt a lot more people than just Daniel. He’s done a lot of horrible things to Danny himself, his parents, and mistreated Danielle and the other clones which his friend only knows so much about but that’s sure to come back to bite Vlad in the butt later. Either way, Vlad still has a long way to go, but...after seeing his determination to make amends to Daniel Danny hopes this means his archenemy is finally turning over a new leaf.

[ejlovespie]

You Give Me Strength

Fandom: Supernatural

Author: EJ (@ejlovespie)

Summary: A hunt gone wrong puts Dean and the reader in danger. When the reader gets severely injured, Dean is there to help her recover.  (angst & fluff)

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1860

Warnings: Angst/Cursing/Torture/Near Death Experience

Reader’s Request: Can I pleaaase request a dean x reader angst/fluff/near death one shot where the reader and dean gets captured by vampires or demons during a hunt gone wrong and the reader keeps talking back to them to piss them off so she can distract them from hurting dean which results in her getting beaten up in front of him and severely injured while he gets all protective and worried. 

A/N: This was my first reader’s request and I am stoked about it! Thank you Anon! This was so much fun to write so I hope you like it! Any feedback is greatly appreciated and any mistakes are mine. Thank you for reading! :)

As far as you could tell, you were in the basement of an abandoned building. The smell of mildew filled your nose and occasionally you would see something skitter across the grimy floor. Gross. About a yard away, there was a crack in the ceiling that was slowly dripping water into a little puddle. The drip drip sound was driving you crazy so you re-directed your attention to the room around you. The only light came from a few candles on a table where a knife and a bowl sat. You and Dean were both handcuffed to beams in the middle of the room, far enough a part where you couldn’t reach each other. You were also too far away from the table or anything else that you could grab to use as a weapon. You sighed. This was supposed to be a routine hunt; nothing that you and Dean couldn’t handle. Unfortunately, the demons you had been tracking had got the drop on you. One minute you were both walking down the street and the next, you felt a pinch on your neck and you had lost consciousness within minutes. 

 Dean still hadn’t woken from being drugged. You had called his name a few times, trying to wake him but he didn’t stir, just continued to breathe in and out in a steady rhythm. You sat there for what felt like hours before the sound of a door slamming behind you made you jump. You heard footsteps as someone walked into the room and you tried squinting into the dark to see. After a moment, a man walked over to Dean’s slumped form. You yelled at him when his foot came out and he kicked Dean’s leg. Ignoring you, he bent over and stuck a needle into Dean’s neck. You cursed and yelled again but were cut off when Dean suddenly startled awake. He sat up in a panic, his eyes wild and angry, and growled when he saw you. The man had walked over to the table in the center of the room and was picking up the knife. Shit. You could his eyes now; they were pitch black. Demon. You tugged at your handcuffs again, trying to figure out a way out of this situation. 

 The demon noticed you struggling and laughed as he walked over to Dean, who was glaring at him. His black eyes turned to you and he smiled before he took the knife and slowly started to dig it into Dean’s collarbone. You screamed as Dean groaned in pain and the demon laughed. In this situation, you had no way to help Dean except to distract the threat. You had to make him focus on you instead. You didn’t think before you started cursing and yelling at him, trying to goad him into walking away from Dean. 

 “Hey! Leave him alone you black eyed bastard!” 

 The demon ignored you and you started to panic when he brought the knife up to Dean’s face. You kept yelling, more desperate now. 

 “Why don’t you bring that over here bitch! Better yet, how about you let me out of these cuffs so I can kick your ass?”

 The demon straightened and turned to face you, a huge, evil smile on his face. He sauntered toward you as Dean hollered at him to leave you alone. Hearing the worry in Dean’s voice, you sent him an apology in your mind. You gritted your teeth and braced yourself when the demon crouched in front of you. You watched as he blinked and blue eyes looked you over. You weren’t expecting the soft touch of his hand on your cheek. You flinched and turned your head away from him as he laughed again. 

 “Well, aren’t you a feisty thing. You can’t be patient and wait your turn? That’s fine. I will just torture you and let your boytoy over there watch.”

 You heard Dean yelling again as the demon smiled and brought the hand on your cheek down to your chin. His thumb rubbed at your dry lips for a moment before he leaned toward you, close enough to kiss you. You reacted. In a sharp movement, you crashed your forehead to his, and kicked out with your legs. You were hoping he would drop the knife and you could grab it or kick it to Dean somehow but the demon just reared back and slapped you hard across the face. Your cheek burned and you were seeing stars but a laugh tore from your throat. The surprised look on his face made you laugh even harder. You stopped laughing when the demon’s eyes turned black and fury contorted his face. He snarled at you, 

 “You’re going to pay for that you little bitch.”      

 In a rage, the demon slapped you across the face again and then stood and kicked you hard in the ribs. You cried out in pain as he continued to kick you three more times. On the third blow you felt a rib crack. You could hear Dean screaming and fighting against his restraints. You also heard the drip drip, dripping from the ceiling. You tried to keep your breathing even and deep but you were struggling to breathe through the pain from your rib. The demon crouched back down at eye level with you. Looking back at him, you smiled and taunted him further. 

 "You hit like a bitch." 

 Once again, the demon slapped you across the face so hard that your lip split. You could feel the blood trickle down your chin. The demon pulled the knife out and held it in front of you to see. With a taunting expression he said, 

 "You should have kept your mouth shut. Now, I'm going to have fun carving you up real slow before I cut your throat and bleed you like a pig." 

 Drip Drip

 He plunged the knife into your leg and you screamed in pain. With a twisted smile, the demon pulled the blade out of your leg, causing you to scream again. He repeated the move with your other leg. The pain was making you dizzy and you tried to focus and stay conscious. You heard Dean now begging the demon to leave you alone and it broke your heart to hear it. Be strong Dean, you thought to yourself.

Drip 

Looking down, you saw blood everywhere but it didn't look like the demon had severed an artery. You gritted your teeth and focused on his face, internally chanting to yourself to not pass out. He smiled at you again before bringing the knife close to your throat. The knife tip touched your skin and the demon made a shallow cut across it. You weren't sure if it was the blood loss or if you were going into shock but you didn't feel pain. You just felt the blood running down your neck and over your chest. You heard a loud crash behind you accompanied by a new voice. Sam? Your vision was starting to blur, blackness creeping in the corners of your vision. You tried to turn your head, to see what was happening but you couldn’t focus anymore. You heard gunshots and the sounds of a fight going on behind you when suddenly everything was quiet and Dean was by your side. He was taking your handcuffs off and telling you to hold on, to stay with him. He was gingerly lifting you into his arms. You tried to stay awake; to tell Dean that you were sorry but darkness pulled you under.     

                                                        -

When you woke, you were lying in a hospital bed. Your head was fuzzy and every part of your body felt numb. You squinted at the window where bright sunlight shone through. Dean was sitting there under the window, sleeping with his head on his arms. His large, calloused hand resting on yours on the bed. You weren’t sure how long you lay there, watching him sleep, but eventually you joined him, drifting off peacefully.   

You were only in the hospital for a few days. Although you had lost a lot of blood, you didn’t have any permanent damage. You had a cracked rib, possible nerve damage in your legs, and some scarring on your throat. The doctor said you were lucky; you could have bled out and died if you hadn’t made it to the hospital as fast as you did. You were finally home, back in the bunker, and lying in your own bed. Dean had been mad for the first few days, telling you off for what you did and threatening you if you ever pulled a stunt like that again. You had just smiled sweetly and batting your eyes said, 

“I couldn’t let him touch your pretty face Dean. That would be a crime against humanity and women everywhere would have mourned the loss.”     

 Neither he nor Sam found that as funny as you did. Regardless, Dean’s anger had faded and now he was constantly fussing over you. He hadn’t left your side since the hospital. He had carried you, helped you bathe, wrapped your ribs, and changed your bandages on your legs and neck. He sat with you in bed all day, everyday, watching movies, reading, and playing cards. He was so focused on you and your comfort that you had started to worry about him. You told him you would be fine on your own but Dean had refused to leave; he insisted on taking care of you. It was sweet. This big man, a badass hunter, being so gentle with you made your insides all warm and gooey. 

You were both lying in bed now and the wounds on your legs itched like crazy. In the healing process they had started to scab over and no lotion or creams helped. Scratching at your bandages, Dean scolded you before gently grabbing your wrists to keep you from scratching. You groaned in response and he chuckled. Your wrists were still in his hands and he brought them to his lips. Placing kisses on your knuckles, he said, 

 “You know you can’t scratch at them baby...Maybe I could distract you though.”

You giggled when he leaned into your neck and kissed you, the contrast of his scruffy face and soft lips giving you goosebumps. Dean kissed your neck before moving on to kiss your chin and then placed a longer, warm kiss on your lips. Kissing him back, you sighed feeling happy and content. After a few minutes, he pulled away from you and grabbed your hand. With a serious look, he turned to face you and asked, 

“Promise me you won't do that again. Never put yourself in harm's way to protect me. I...I can’t lose you Y/N. I love you.” 

His words tugged at your heart but you argued, “I can’t promise that Dean. I will always fight for you. The way I feel..I don’t know. It’s like you give me strength. I would do anything to protect you.” 

Dean placed a soft kiss on your temple before murmuring, “Then I will just have to keep you here where we’re both safe.”  

Dean Tags:

@akshi8278

[cora-vizsla]

Hypnotic (Taking Over Me) - Chapter 4

Pairing: Eventual Jedi!OC x Sith!Obi Wan Word Count: 7.2 K

Story Rating: E (18+)

Chapter Rating: E due to some sexual themes and I’d rather be safe than sorry.

Warning: Swearing. Threats of violence. Cannon typical violence. They went to a party. There was only one bed. Kissing. Explicitly asking for consent because consent is sexy. Angst. Woo boy is there angst. Talking of unfavorable things that could happen to those kidnapped. 

A/N: Please let me know if I missed any warnings!

They sat at the table together, silently eating breakfast. Zara wondered if she should feel bad for sleeping curled up with the Sith. She knew that it was survival but laying together talking for hours wasn’t. The thought of how angry and disgusted Master Windu would be with her actions was making her sick to her stomach.

Anakin often pulled Zara close when it was just the two of them. It felt natural with him since they had been connected since they were children. Nothing about it felt wrong and she told herself doing the same with Obi Wan was different because of who he was.

It didn’t feel different though. Maybe a little more intimate. Anakin didn’t trace the lines on her face or tuck her hair behind her ear. Even when he was physically close to her, there was still a distance. That’s the way it had to be.

That was the Jedi way.

Obi Wan didn’t have any interest in distance. He didn’t have a code telling him that physical closeness or attachment was wrong. There was nothing stopping him from pursuing what he wanted. He didn’t feel guilty because he had nothing to feel guilt over.

Zara almost let herself think that it must be nice. She almost wanted to resent the Jedi order for telling her that something so basic was wrong. She couldn’t let herself think it though. Over and over again, she told herself that the Jedi knew what was best and they were doing good in the galaxy. The light had to prevail. It was just hard to focus on that when the darkness was looking at her so affectionately.

“My master sent word to me today. I am expected at a social function in two days’ time.”

“Oh. How lucky for you. I guess It’s a good thing you have a sizable library. Not much else to do on this frozen tundra of a planet.”

“You could go with me.”

She looked up from her plate and saw he was looking at her intently.

“To a social function? Are you mad?”

“Perhaps a little. Depends on who you ask.”

“I can’t.. aren’t you afraid I’ll escape?”

“Not at all.”

She crossed her arms and sat back, raising her eyebrows at his answer.

“You do think I’m a fool, don’t you?”

He sighed and pushed his plate away gently before leaning forward onto the table.

“It’s self-serving to bring you. I need people to see that my Master is moving towards his goals. I also need my Master to see that I am moving towards my goals.”

“You aren’t.”

“He doesn’t need to know that. In fact, your survival depends on him not knowing that.”

“I still can’t believe you’re okay with lying to your Master.”

“And you’d go back and tell Windu that you were cuddled up to me all night?”

Zara opened her mouth to answer but shut it quickly. She grabbed a piece of her food and shoved it into her mouth to give her time to recover.

“I didn’t think so. Anyway, even though it is self-serving for me, it can also be an opportunity for you.”

“How so?”

“There may be people there that could get a message back to Anakin. That’s what you want, right? To keep him safe?”

“If they’re there as a Separatist, why would they help me? Wouldn’t they just tell your Master?”

“There are spies on both sides, darling. I happen to know a few. If you play along, I will help you get your message to the Skywalker boy.”

“You would do that? Why?”

He sat back and smirked.

“Because as much as I don’t want to turn you, you’re better off without the Jedi. They’re going to find out you were there regardless of what message gets to your friend. So, I guess the real question is, are you willing to risk your position within the Jedi to save Anakin?”

---

Zara followed Obi Wan into a beautiful building on a planet he refused to name. He didn’t make her wear a blindfold on any part of the trip, but there was no way he was going to give her more information than needed. She was wearing one of his black cloaks pulled down to hide her face and hair. Unless someone saw the bottom of her face, it wasn’t even possible to know she was human.

They walked up to a desk, so she kept herself a few paces behind him. There were a lot of moving parts to the entire trip, enough so that it gave her a headache. Once Obi Wan received his information and key, they head up on the lift to the correct floor.

“The event is here in a day. We will stay here until then.”

“Then we will go back to the planet?”

“Yes. Unless something changes.”

The walked down a long hallway until a door opened when he waved the chipped card in front of it. Zara was blown away by how beautiful it was. The windows allowed the natural light to flow through in a way she had never seen. Once the door was shut, she pulled her hood off and marveled at the beautiful architecture and furniture.

“May want to get used to this now. Can’t have them thinking you grew up in a temple.”

“I did grow up in a temple.”

“They don’t need to know that. They don’t need to know a thing about you. No until it’s beneficial.”

She looked over at him and nodded.

“Only one bed. I would offer to sleep on the floor, but the bed is bigger than the blankets we shared by the fire.”

Her face flushed but she nodded. He was right, the bed was huge. She slipped the cloak off and draped it gently over the chair next to her.

“Well, darling, I need to go meet with my Master. I must ask you to stay here. Do not open the door, not that I’ll leave it unlocked anyway, unless it’s the droid with our outfits for tomorrow.”

“Outfits?”

“Did you think you would be wearing a cloak and my robes to a social function?”

“I uh, I guess I never thought about it.”

He chuckled and walked over, pushing her hair back like he loved to do. He looked down at her with a softer version of the smirk he usually wore.

“Try to enjoy yourself. There is a real bath here. I made sure it had all the extras that your Jedi life has never let you experience.”

“Says the man who lived in a small home on a desolate planet.”

“Is it so bad I want to spoil you, sweetheart?”

“I think you need a lesson on how to treat prisoners.”

“Hmm. Perhaps you are right.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and turned before she could question him. Once he was gone, she looked around and decided not to indulge in anything. She couldn’t let herself get distracted and forget her mission.

---

Obi Wan returned sometime later and found Zara sleeping peacefully on the bed. She was still wearing the same robes. He sighed, realizing that she didn’t relax short of falling asleep. He moved around quietly until he heard her whimper. When he whipped around, he saw her face twisted up like it had the night he woke her from a nightmare. He knew he should just ask her, but the last time he tried to talk about it, they ended up fighting. Once he reached her, he gently placed his hand on her arm and spoke to her. She jumped awake, grabbing onto his wrist tightly.

“You’re alright, sweetheart. You were just having another nightmare.”

“Stars, you scared me.”

“Sorry. Didn’t want to leave you stuck in whatever is plaguing you.”

“Thanks.”

She sat up and rubbed at her eyes, trying to get the images out of her head.

“How long have you been back?”

“Not very long. It’s just about time to eat. Food should be here shortly. I see you didn’t make use of the luxuries of the room.”

“Didn’t feel right doing so.”

“You can’t show up not looking pampered. You need to care about your appearance for this.”

She sighed and shifted uncomfortably.

“I don’t really know how to do all of that. Up until a few years ago my hair was short. I never cared much about how I looked, just if what I was doing was practical for fighting.”

“That shouldn’t surprise me.”

Obi Wan walked confidently into the bathroom, disappearing behind the wall. Zara watched the doorway listening to the foreign sounds. When he walked back up, he motioned for her to come closer. She stepped into the room and saw a giant tub filled with water and bubbles.

“Have you seen a tub before?”

“Only in books and holovids.”

“Relax for a while. I won’t come in, so you don’t need to worry about being modest. Although once you get in, no one will be able to see any part of you not under the water. Once you are done, there is a robe hanging on the far wall you can use. We don’t have anything to do this evening so take your time and relax. I will let you know when dinner is ready.”

She stood leaning against the counter and looking at everything. The temple wasn’t a slum by any means, but no Jedi that she ever knew had even seen a real bath in person. She looked up when Obi Wan moved directly in front of her, placing his hands on her shoulders.

“I can see your guilt, sweetheart. Calm your mind. This is part of your obligation to pass along a message. I won’t let you go down to the event not looking the part. Don’t make me throw you in there.”

He gave her a soft smile before leaving the room. With a sigh, she pulled her clothes off and slipped into the hot water. Regardless of how she felt, she couldn’t stop the sigh when her body was settled into the heat around her. She slid down to the back of her head was resting on the side.

The water smelled wonderful. It was a far cry from the quick showers she had taken at Obi Wan’s house. Even those made her feel guilty. She didn’t often get to use real water and there she was relaxing in an exuberant amount of it.

“Please don’t feel guilty. Think of it as a form of torture if you must.”

Zara jumped but saw Obi Wans shoulder peeking out from the doorframe.

“Are you sitting by the door?”

“I gave you my word I wouldn’t come in.”

She smiled to herself and relaxed back into the heat.

“It’s hard not to feel guilty.”

“That was one thing I never understood with the Jedi. Why should anyone feel guilt for feeling comfort? Sounds a bit self-righteous to be honest.”

“It isn’t our job to feel comfort. It’s our job to do what we must to protect the galaxy and keep the light strong.”

“How do you know something is light without the darkness?”

“I-“

Not wanting to admit that he was right, Zara fell silent.

“I’m not trying to turn you. I find comfort in the dark especially after everything I’ve been through. Just as much as there is no light without dark, there is no dark without light. I don’t hate the light.”

“Just the Jedi.”

“Yes.”

“Tell me more.”

“What?”

She saw him shift slightly in the doorway out of surprise.

“If I’m going to go with you tomorrow and be around people who don’t like the Jedi or the Republic, I need to know what you think. I doubt a silent meek apprentice is what you would like to present.”

“You wouldn’t.. why don’t you relax for a while and then we can talk?”

“No. How about we talk now. I wouldn’t what?”

He sighed and turned so he was more in the doorway but still had himself facing away from the tub. She sat up, leaning forward so her chest was still covered. She could feel him worried and trying to shove his emotions down.

“Obi Wan, what aren’t you telling me?”

“No one thinks that you are my apprentice. Nor would you be my apprentice were you to come to the dark side. You likely would become a conduit for Anakins passion.”

Zara narrowed her eyes at him as her rage started to build.

“They think that you’re corrupting me so I can become Anakin’s concubine?”

“I think that word is a bit harsh. I’m sure he would call you.. wife or something of the sort.”

“And just how do they think you are corrupting me?”

He carded his hand down his face, stopping to hold onto his well-kept beard.

“Zara, there are people on both sides of the force that have done and will do terrible things. There are others that I know that would not have been so kind or considerate of a beautiful woman being at their mercy. They wouldn’t have taken your feelings or worth as a powerful force user into consideration. You would have been an assignment and one that they would have taken what they wanted from. They certainly wouldn’t be sitting so they couldn’t even look at you to ensure you felt more secure in your surroundings.”

Zara took a few calming breaths, willing herself to focus. The Jedi never spoke much of how women would be treated differently were they to be taken, but she knew the truth of the matter.

“Your Master doesn’t want me as a force user. He wants me as a way to control Anakin.”

“He wanted you dead. I convinced him this would be a better choice.”

“You decided this!?”

“I already told you, I didn’t want to kill you.”

Zara stood up and stepped out of the tub, yanking a towel off the counter. Once she was covered, she stomped over to Obi Wan, who was now standing.

“What exactly about me screams that I will fall victim to any of that? I won’t let your Master hurt Anakin and I sure as hell won’t be part of that manipulation. I am more than being a woman. I am not a body to use or take. I was never insulted when you took me or used my compassion for my men against me. That was smart. However, for any of you to think that I will just parade myself around and let anyone use me for their personal gain is the most insulting thing I have ever heard.”

Obi Wan grabbed her arms tightly, careful not to hurt her, and pressed her up against the wall quickly. He moved so fast she hadn’t even realized it was happening. He caged her in like he had at the house, radiating anger and pain.

“How dare you accuse me of such. Everything I have done thus far has been done to protect you. I brought you to this kriffing event to give you a chance to talk to your precious Anakin.”

“You brought me here to show your master you’re a good boy. Let’s parade around the pretty little Jedi thinking I would fall for a handsome smile and a shred of decency.”

“Even though you are incredibly lucky it is me pinning you to this wall, you’re still pushing your luck sweetheart.”

“You don’t scare me, Veth.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Jedi. You see, I know your weaknesses. You wouldn’t be swayed by fear. You’re swayed by emotion. If I wanted to hurt you, I’d just make you feel something with your cold little heart.”

“You could never make me feel anything, Sith!”

He laughed darkly and bent forward, staring directly into her eyes.

“You underestimate me. I’m not your little boy toy Skywalker that would fawn over you and accept when you shut yourself off. You are capable of feeling; of loving. It would just destroy you. You pretend like you’re such a good little Jedi by staying shut off and cold. Just like your Master. Oh, but what better way to break the little knight than to have her on her knees begging for my love.”

“I’d never beg for anything from you. Never. If Anakin, my best friend in the entire galaxy, couldn’t get me to feel that kind of love then how the hell do you think it would be possible for you to accomplish that? I don’t know what happened to you, Veth. I don’t know why your heart is so broken that you fell to the darkness, but don’t presume that I am that weak.”

“Weak? Oh, darling, no. Weakness is clinging to false sentiments of superiority for the sake of seeming infallible. Weakness is pretending like you aren’t human when you very much so are.”

“I will never fall for you, Veth. I will never feel anything for you but contempt and pity.”

His hand snapped up to grab her chin, grinning at her ferally.

“Only a Sith deals in absolutes, darling. Looks like you’re already halfway there.”

Zara snarled and ripped away from him, shoving him back far enough to escape back into the bathroom.

“Hurry up and pull yourself together. It’s almost time to eat. You’ll need your strength if you’re going to keep pretending that you’re better than everyone else.”

---

After begrudgingly eating with Obi Wan, Zara took to sitting on the balcony. She was frustrated and wanting nothing more than to bolt. She knew it wouldn’t end well. The Sith still had her saber and from what she had seen he was incredibly powerful.

She was torn somewhere between hating him and finding comfort in his presence. He was right that most wouldn’t have been as considerate or kind towards her. Not that the bar was very high, not trying to assault her was definitely a plus.

No, there had been times when he was kind to her. He wasn’t just taking from her. He was giving her a chance at accomplishing something that not only meant a lot to her but put him at great risk. There was no denying his darkness, but he was making her question, again, if darkness meant bad.

“I can hear your thoughts all the way in there. You aren’t very good at shielding.”

She jumped slightly when she heard him behind her but quickly calmed.

“Not even trying. No point in it. Why waste the energy.”

“I have not tried to dig into your mind.”

“I know you haven’t. I’m not accusing you of such.”

“Do you shield around Anakin?”

“Yes.”

He hummed and moved forward, sitting in the chair next to hers.

“Why is that?”

“Any time he sees me feeling a certain way he just wants to fix it. It’s easier if he doesn’t know what I’m feeling most of the time.”

“Protecting him even from yourself. Interesting. You do an awful lot for a man you swear you don’t love.”

“I do love him. Just not in the way you’re inferring.”

“Why not? Why can’t you just let yourself feel Zara? I would think letting yourself love someone that is already so dear to you would be safe.”

“There is nothing safe about loving Anakin.”

“Do you mean that? Or is it there is nothing safe about loving in general. You love your men. You love your Jedi. Why can’t you let it go further than that?”

“I’d never be a Master. That is my goal. It’s everything that I want. Nothing is more important to me. Call me foolish all you want; that is what matters to me.”

“Come here.”

Zara looked at him with confusion until he pat his leg. She raised her eyebrows and he laughed motioning for her to move to him. She stood and tentatively walked to him until she was close enough for him to pull her onto his lap.

“In a cycle we will need to act like we are physically close to each other. May as well get used to it now. Treat it like a mission. Let them all think you’re safe to speak to. That’s the only way you’ll get to Anakin.”

She nodded and let herself relax into him. His arm was wrapped tightly around her waist and the other hand was resting lightly on her thigh.

“I don’t say this to hurt you. Keep that in mind, yes?”

She nodded again and watched him carefully.

“Do you really think the Jedi will understand why you came with me? Of all the master’s they have, I can only name one that may accept that the clones are more than an expendable resource. Not only that, but they also can’t be happy about how close you are to Anakin.”

“They aren’t. The only Master that shares my sentiment about the clones to the extent that I do is Master Koon. He sees them as his family.”

“As do you.”

She nodded again giving him a small smile.

“They all mean the world to me. I feel every loss deep in my soul.”

“Do you feel all of them in the force?”

“Yes. Obviously, I can feel force users much more strongly. I feel them though. They’re all so different even though outwardly they look the same. The other Jedi have admitted as much but they’re more concerned with the war.”

“See? You do feel love. You don’t let yourself feel it in a romantic way, but you risked everything for your men and Anakin. You truly think they would let you be a Jedi Master feeling that much compassion?”

“Plo Koon is a Jedi Master.”

“And how serious do they take him? Is he the one making decisions or is he the one sent out on missions?”

“He.. They respect him. He has earned his place within the order. It doesn't matter if he's different than the rest of them.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you truly believe that. Forget being naïve about the Jedi, you’re naïve to even the way the galaxy works. People who are soft don’t make it without being hurt.”

“Is that what happened to you?”

She snapped at him, hoping her words would hurt him. Instead, his face fell as he looked deep into her eyes.

“Yes. That is exactly what happened to me. I loved too deeply and trusted too easily. Now I’m here. Ironically, that’s what brought you to this exact place as well.”

---

“Alright Zara, are you almost ready? We need to make our entrance.”

Zara stepped forward having just finished getting ready. Obi Wan stood in front of her in crisp black clothes that seemed much more suiting for a formal event. His hair was pushed back perfectly, and he had cleaned up his beard. She gave him a soft smile and nodded, running her hands down the skirt of the extravagant dress he had given her to put on.

“I feel rather silly wearing this if I’m being honest.”

Obi Wan appraised her with a small smirk playing on his lips. The dress had been a custom ask of his, ensured that the black would be the exact shade of his own clothes. It plunged down showing off the soft skin between her breasts and just the top of her abdomen. It was tight enough up top she didn’t need to worry about moving and the long sleeves clung to her like it was made for her.

He laughed to himself that it had been made for her.

The dress clung to her hips then flared out, flowing out into multiple layers. He motioned for her to spin so she did slowly, letting him see the way the back was open save of some pieces of fabric that wove together to keep the dress tightly against her. When she faced him again, he reached forward and toyed with her hair that was now curled flowing around her.

“You look stunning, darling. I have one more thing for you though.”

He picked up a box off the small stand near them and opened it, showing the intricate necklace to her. She looked at it and gently touched the stone, pulling her hand back when she felt how strong the force was within in.

“It’s a kyber crystal. I stumbled upon it and thought it would look stunning resting on your chest.”

He pulled it from the box and motioned for her to turn around. When she did, she pulled her hair to the side, allowing him access to the back of her neck. He gently clipped it as it rests against her skin. She inhaled sharply at the power emanating from it as it began to glow.

“It looks.. it looks like..”

He moved closer, pressing himself to her back. He wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her closer as the other toyed with the crystal on her chest.

“Like what, sweetheart?”

She shut her eyes, desperately trying to calm herself down.

“Oh, darling, don’t act so coy with me. We’ve been together for quite some time now. Do I still take your breath away?”

It occurred to her that he was acting the way that he would need to around everyone else. She told herself that was the only reason he was so close to her. There was no way he would actually want to be. With a deep breath, she willed herself to calm down and melt into him.

“It looks just like your eyes, Lord Veth.”

He hummed and leaned forward, letting his lips graze across her pulse point.

“That’s a good girl. You catch on quickly.”

“Let’s go. We’re already late enough.”

He chuckled and pulled himself from her, putting his arm out for her to take. She placed her hand on his elbow and walked confidently, hoping that there was some way that Anakin could be warned.

---

It was almost too easy for her to act the way she needed to. When they walked into the ballroom, mostly everyone turned to look at them. Obi Wan smirked down at her before turning forward to walk inside. She let her hips sway just a little more and ignored everyone but him.

At least that’s what everyone else thought. Secretly she was looking at everyone around them. It was hard to figure out who was who, but she held tight onto the idea that someone would help her get a message out.

“Lord Veth! It is so good to see you again!”

“The pleasure is mine, I assure you. When Lord Sideous let me know that I would be coming in his stead, I was pleased to know you were running this event.”

“We are happy to have you as our guest of honor. And who is this? This can’t be the pretty little thing Lord Sideous has been telling us about. No wonder why you’ve kept her squirreled away!”

“This is my darling Zara. I have begrudgingly brought her into the public eye. I’ve been so selfish getting to keep her all to myself.”

He hooked his finger playfully under her chin, leaning forward to kiss her cheek. She fluttered her lashes at him and leaned against his arm.

“I don’t blame you! I would keep a woman of her beauty and grace locked away too! Please do let me know if need anything.”

Obi Wan nodded and let Zara towards the focal point of the room. She inwardly grimaced when she noticed that it looked like a throne.

“Just play the game, darling.”

Once he sat down, he took her hand and pulled her closer, helping her sit on his lap sideways. He sat with his legs spread, commanding the room in a way she never could fully understand. Once she was seated on him, she was able to hear him talk without anyone else listening in. His words didn’t exactly match his body language, but she understood what he was doing. She felt clinical in the way she melted into him with his arm wrapped around her waist.

“There is a certain image they expect of me. Play the game and things go correctly.”

“I understand. I guess I know that feeling.”

“Yes, you do. That’s why you’re at ease now. Different game, same moves.”

She noticed that people were looking at the two of them, so she gave him a smile and started toying with the front of his shirt. He focused his attention on her and smirked.

“Hmm, perhaps not though. Unless you often sit on Jedi laps like this. If so, I missed that part of the training.”

“Just doing what I have to, Lord Veth. Tell me, who should I be trying to get a message to?”

“Well, the man who greeted us to begin with I’m sure has already spoken with not only my Master but at least one Jedi Master.”

“Really? Why?”

“He’s wealthy. He wants to ensure that no matter who wins, he stays that way. That is why I used your real name instead of an alias.”

“Wait but.. so, they will know that I am here with you.”

“Sitting on my lap looking rather stricken. A Sith’s arm wrapped around your waist as you toy with the front of his shirt. Oh, how the rumors will spread about you, especially once word gets out that you’re a Jedi Knight. How scandalous.”

She glared at him before plastering a fake smile on her face again.

“As long as I end up getting a message to Anakin, it will be worth it. I know the truth and the counsel will see that.”

“If you say so, darling.”

He pulled her closer and chuckled at the annoyed huff she gave him in return. He toyed with the necklace resting on her skin while he looked out at the crowd. Zara wanted to look at everyone but didn’t want to show how eager she was to find someone else.

“Lord Veth, I am so glad to see you here tonight.”

Zara focused in on the woman standing in front of them. She was pretty and absolutely knew it. She felt Obi Wans thumb rub against her a few times where the mystery woman couldn’t see, and she instantly got the hint.

“Well, hello there. What can I do for you?”

She grinned at him and shot Zara a quick fake smile.

“I was hoping that I would be able to garner your attention for a little while. Unless you’re too busy?”

“Of course not!”

He gently pushed Zara to her feet and stood up, brushing past her. She watched the two of them walk away, the woman instantly all over him. She wasn’t sure what to say or do but she couldn’t imagine that in a genuine situation she would be happy. She caught herself feeling something about the woman being all over him but pushed it away quickly.

Go to the balcony. Make it dramatic. Your contact will find you out there easily.

Zara set her jaw and stormed away from the throne like chair, causing a bit of a scene. Everyone moved out of her way, watching as she flew out of the room. She could feel Obi Wans amusement as she went to the balcony and waited.

---

“Zara? Zara Fross?”

She turned to see a young woman walking towards her. Her dress was on the extravagant side, but it seemed to suit her.

“Yes.”

“I thought that was you. My name is Padme, though you may know me as Senator Amidala.”

“What is a fierce proponent for the Republic doing at a Separatist sympathizers party?”

“I am from Naboo. We tend to have the luxury of being trusted by many. It allows me to get information others may not have access to.”

Zara turned back towards the balcony, looking out at the nature around them. Padme joined her, allowing both of them to speak without anyone seeing their faces.

“You don’t need to dance around me, Senator. I didn’t betray the council.���

“I was rather surprised when I saw you here. Everyone is on high alert with you being gone.”

“Would it be safe to send you with a message?”

“Of course. I can go directly to the Jedi Council.”

“Lord Veth took me when he threatened killing my entire team. Whoever his master is, he wants Anakin Skywalker. They must keep him on the straight path and in the light. I need him to understand that I didn’t leave him. I didn’t take off. I’m doing this to keep him safe and the moment I can get back I will.”

“Is he hurting you?”

“No. He’s.. surprisingly fair. Right now, Anakin is in much more danger than I am.”

Zara looked down when Padme placed her hand on hers.

“Are you sure there isn’t more I can do? Have you gotten any information that could help?”

Zara hesitated but shook her head.

“No. You’re doing more than enough. Thank you.”

“Please stay safe, General Fross.”

They both turned when footsteps rang out. Obi Wan was giving Zara a feral smile and Padme visibly tensed.

“Senator Amidala! Thank you so much for keeping my little dove company.”

“Lord Veth. If you’ll excuse me.”

He watched Padme walk past him before stepping forward, tracing his fingers across her jawline.

“Did you accomplish your mission, sweetheart?

“Surprised to see you out here so soon. Figured you would have made use of the room.”

“Oh, dear are you jealous?”

She scoffed and crossed her arms.

“What in the makers name would I have to be jealous over? You’re the one who told me to come out here.”

“I did. I didn’t expect you to be so vexed when I left with her though.”

“Vexed? I was just standing there. Who you spend your time with hardly concerns me. I’ve accomplished what I came here to do. Nothing else matters.”

“You’re so cute when you lie to yourself.”

“Stars you’re insufferable sometimes, Obi Wan.”

“I’m not the one calling you by a different name when we’re alone.”

“What?”

“You could have called me Obi Wan. You very easily could have alerted the council as to who I am. Yet you didn’t. You didn’t correct her when she called me Lord Veth.”

“That’s who you are.”

“Yet you know the council wants to know my true identity. I had already prepared for you telling them. You can lie to yourself all you want, Zara. I see right through all of it.”

“There is nothing to see through.”

“Look me right in the eyes and tell me that you feel absolutely nothing for me.”

She stepped forward and glared.

“I feel nothing for you.”

“Liar.”

“Go find someone else to bother. I won’t fawn over you like the other women will. Actually, why don’t I just go now? You can have the room all to yourself and do whatever and whoever you want.”

“You aren’t going anywhere without me.”

Zara started walking past him to head back inside. Obi Wan grabbed her arm and spun her back to him. She gasped when she crashed into him and his arms wrapped around her.

“How rude you are, little Jedi. I risk myself for you and this is how you repay me? What are you so afraid of, little dove?”

“I’m afraid of nothing.”

Zara shrugged out of his arms and took a step back, trying to get distance between the two of them. Obi Wan didn’t let it happen. With every step back, he took one forward. Zara gasped when her back met the wall and Obi Wan pressed himself against her. Her ran his finger across her jaw and looked into her eyes.

“You are afraid of me, darling. You’re terrified of me. You’re terrified of how my kindness makes you feel. You’re so afraid you’re unable to admit how much your body sings when I touch you. I can see your wall being thrown up the moment I get close. Why is that?”

“Y-you’re vile.”

“Perhaps. At least I’m not a liar.”

“I’m not a liar, Veth.”

“No? Prove it to me.”

“How the hell can I prove that to you?”

“Let me kiss you. If you feel absolutely nothing when I do, I’ll leave you alone. If you can truthfully look me in the eyes and tell me that you felt nothing, I’ll believe you. Your honor is important to you. Let’s see how strong that conviction is.”

Zara set her jaw and forced her breath to stay steady. She chanted over and over that he meant nothing and there was no way she could ever feel anything but contempt towards him. He was the enemy. A Sith! She finally nodded once, and he chuckled deeply.

“Do I have your consent, Zara?”

She nodded and he shook his head.

“Use your words, love.”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Stars, Obi Wan. Yes, you have my consent to kiss me.”

“Good girl.”

He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. She had heard of the idea of sparks but thought it was all bullshit. It had to be bullshit. There was no way that this Sith pressing his lips to hers was stealing her breath. She refused to admit that when he cupped the side of her face and deepened the kiss, her body melted into his. It couldn’t be possible that the smallest airiest moan was swallowed up by his all-consuming presence and touch.

He was right though. Her honor and pride couldn’t let her lie. She could lie to herself and hold herself back all day any day. But looking him in the eyes and telling him that she felt nothing would have been a lie. When he pulled his mouth away, he kept it close to hers. His breath fanned out across her face and he was breathing just as hard as she was.

“Tell me you feel nothing. Tell me that not even one part of you enjoyed that. Tell me you don’t feel a damn thing, Zara.”

“I.. I can’t do that. Even if I wanted to lie to you.. I respect you, Obi Wan. I respect you enough that I barely even hate you.”

“There is a very thin line between love and hate, Zara. And either mean that you feel something.”

“Do you ever shut up?”

“Yes.”

He crashed his lips against hers again with much more enthusiasm. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and ran her fingers through his hair. She inhaled sharply when his hands tightened on her hips as he pressed himself against her. Right when she was beginning to forget who she was kissing and whose hands were holding her so tightly, she heard her name.

“Zara?”

Obi Wan kept himself pressed against her but broke the kiss to look over his shoulder with a feral smirk.

“Seems like we have an audience, darling.”

He shifted his body just enough that Zara could see a very confused Anakin looking at her.

“What the hell are you doing to her? Get away from her!”

“I can assure you, Anakin, I had consent. What is it with Jedi and thinking I’m that uncivilized?”

He turned so he was facing Anakin but still partially shielding Zara. She wanted to push him aside, but she saw what he was looking at. Her best friend was clutching his saber so tightly he was shaking. She wouldn’t trust any enemy that tense either.

“Anakin, how did you find me?”

“I’ve been searching for you for days! I was told that this Veth would be here.”

“Does the counsel know you’re here?”

“Of course not. They told me to stand down.”

Zara stepped forward and Obi Wan grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

“It’s okay. He isn’t going to hurt me.”

“Remember our agreement, Jedi.”

She nodded so he let her go. She took another step forward and Anakin scowled at them.

“Agreement? What the hell is this. Do you know how hard it was to get this information? Then I show up and he’s.. what were you doing!?”

“Anakin, listen to me. You are in danger. I need you to-“

“Answer me!”

Zara took another step forward, only for Anakin to step backwards.

“Anakin. I came here to get a message to you. I told Senator Amidala what is going on so she could tell the counsel. You are in danger. You must listen to counsel. Please.”

“Why should I listen to a word you have to say? I’ve been sick with worry for you. Did he even take you or are you here because you want to be?”

“Of course, he took me! He threatened to kill my men.”

“You’re more valuable than a bunch of-“

“Don’t you dare say it, Anakin. Don’t you dare say that their lives don’t matter. You know how much it hurts me when they hurt. You know me.”

“Do I? Do I actually know you? You gave yourself over to this filth to save clones. Then I show up and you’re dressed like some escort to this Sith? You hardly look like you’re captive to me.”

“How dare you. You’ve known me since I was a child. How could you think so low of me?”

“What am I supposed to think! He just had his tongue shoved down your throat!”

“How crass.”

Zara glanced over at Obi Wan who had his arms crossed, looking bored.

“What? It was. Hardly a way to talk to a woman let alone his friend. You deserve better than him, darling.”

“Shut up! What right do you have to say anything to her or me?”

“Don’t be rude, Ani. You’ve always been quite the little shit.”

“You don’t know me.”

“Oh, but I do. I know how you cried for your mum instead of being grateful for the chance to be more than a slave. I know how you whined every time you had to do anything. You’ve always been an insufferable little brat and that has not changed.”

“Who the hell-“

“Obi Wan, stop. You aren’t making anything better.”

Anakin had a look of horror wash over his face as he stared at the Sith.

“Obi Wan? No. No you died.”

“I obviously did not. Not that it mattered. The Jedi got their chosen one. I hardly mattered after that.”

He stood up taller and reached his hand out for Zara.

“I’ve grown bored of this uncivilized arguing. We are needed inside. Let’s go, darling.”

“She isn’t going anywhere with you!”

“Oh, she is. She gave me her word. Isn’t that right, Zara?”

She looked between the two and finally settled on Anakin.

“He’s right. I gave him my word. I am only here because I knew I’d be able to get a message to you. That was my mission. Go back to the counsel, Anakin. I can’t go with you. Not.. not right now.”

“Unbelievable. You’re choosing him over me?”

“I’m doing all of this for you, Ani. Listen to Padme. Listen to the counsel. Please.”

“I’ll never forgive you for this, Zara. You’ve betrayed everything you stand for.”

She turned and heard Anakin jump from the balcony. She gritted her teeth and waited for Obi Wan to lead her back inside.

“Do you need a minute?”

“No. You kept your word. Now I will keep mine.”

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[bondsmagii]

Here’s something I really can’t explain.

To sum up: I shouldn’t be alive right now. I shouldn’t be writing this. I have no idea how any of this could have happened, but the fact you’re reading this now is kind of living proof that it did happen, so I suppose I’ll try and explain it as best as I can.

A little backstory for you. Way back in the late forties, my great-grandfather was a young man working with the local fire department. He came back after the war and just couldn’t settle into any kind of desk job, so despite my great-grandmother worrying about his mental state he ended up running into burning buildings for a living. Naturally he saw some messed up shit, but nothing haunted him more than a hotel fire that he attended.

At the time there had been an annual prize night for a local grammar school. Hundreds of kids and their families were crammed into the hotel’s large ballroom when a stray match lit up the curtains on the stage. Back in the day they weren’t exactly great about fire safety, and the walls and furniture were panelled or made with highly flammable materials. The whole room went up in minutes. Over one hundred people died, over half of which were children below the age of fifteen. It was an indescribable tragedy, and my great-grandfather – along with every first responder there – was scarred for life over the things he saw that evening.

My great-grandfather did his best to live with what happened, and for the most part he did well, all things considered. All of his grief seemed to be directed towards one little girl, who was never identified or claimed. She was badly burned but not unrecognisable; the theory was that her whole family had died with her, leaving nobody left to notice she was gone. She wasn’t the only person to suffer this fate, unfortunately – all told, five people were never claimed by families – but because my great-grandfather was the one to pull her body from the wreckage, he sort of became obsessed with her. He was preoccupied until his death with finding out her identity, and every year on the anniversary of the fire he visited her grave to lay a wreath. Unfortunately, he died without ever finding out who she was.

Fast forward a few decades, and I’m in my early twenties. My great-grandfather died when I was quite young, so I only had a small idea of this part of his history. It was, however, enough to make me wary of large fires – especially hotel fires. One summer, I’m visiting another city for my younger brother’s university graduation, and I stay the night in a hotel near the city centre. I remember fires were on my mind already, because initially they had tried to give me a room on the twenty-third floor, and I had politely refused and requested a lower floor. (An old maxim of my great-grandfather’s: never stay on a floor where you wouldn’t survive the fall.) Because of the graduation, the hotel was packed, and I ended up on the fifth floor in the end, but I figured it was better than nothing.

The first night was fine. The second night a fire broke out. The hotel had had some electrical rewiring done within the last month, and something went wrong. The fire smouldered for hours, undetected, before spreading into multiple parts of the ventilation system. Smoke and flame was pushed to all corners of the hotel before the fire cut out the power. Later, investigators would discover that the fire burned through the power for the smoke and fire detection alarms almost immediately – yet somehow the fire alarms went off. This is only the beginning of the inexplicable that night.

By the time the alarms woke me, my room was already filled with smoke. I had been drilled on this so many times as a child that it was instinctive for me to roll off the bed and onto the floor; only then did I start to panic. Luckily I had fallen asleep with the curtains open – the only time I had ever done that in a hotel – and the city lights illuminated the room enough to let me know the smoke was only in the top two thirds of the room, and not as thick as it could have been. I had time to crawl into the bathroom, wet a towel, and tie it around my nose and mouth. Then I crawled to the door and lay a hand flat on it. The door was cool, so I cautiously pulled it open.

In the hallway, it was pitch dark. This is the worst case scenario for any fire. Smoke disorientates people, and they feel ill from inhaling it. Panic compounds the confusion. People can get lost in their own homes – hotels are the worst place for something like this. People stand little chance of getting out if they haven’t memorised an exit, and even then it’s not foolproof. I should know. I always memorise exits, but when I went out of my room I turned the wrong way. I don’t know why. I was panicking, I was confused, and I just made the wrong choice. It should have cost me my life.

I realised my mistake as soon as I reached the end of the hall. The door there was propped open (fire safety hazard, I remember thinking, like it mattered at that point) but I could see no flames. The door led to the stairwell, and I had just crawled out onto it when the entire world went black. The smoke and flame had intensified, the fire sucking in oxygen and the smoke being forced up the stairwell like a huge chimney. It spilled over the edges of the landing and enveloped me even hunched on my hands and knees. My eyes began to sting and water; I couldn’t see anything. I crawled back and bumped into the wall, and for several long seconds that felt like minutes, I couldn’t find my way out of the stairwell. The heat was evaporating the water in the towel, and the sheer amount of smoke meant it wasn’t doing much good anyway. By the time I finally made it back out into the hall, I was coughing and choking. Panic made me pull the towel down. I only took the smallest breath before the floor tilted under me and I experienced a horrible rush of lightheadedness – with smoke so toxic, sometimes a breath is all it takes.

I kept crawling, heading back towards my room, now realising my mistake. At that point I was forcing myself to stay calm, but it wasn’t working. I had realised I had probably just gotten myself killed, and it was almost impossible to breathe. The temperature was climbing, and I knew the fire was close. I could hear screaming from somewhere nearby, doors slamming. Every single rational thought had left. I scrambled down the hallway in pure panic, and then I saw the child.

She was hunched down, looking right at me. She wasn’t in any kind of night clothing – she looked like she was still in the clothing she would have worn at the graduation ceremony, a neat little dress and polished shoes, a ribbon tied in her hair. She was perhaps eight years old at my best guess, and seeing her shocked some sense into me. Before I could speak or gesture to the direction she should go, she waved and then pointed.

“Come on, mister,” she said. “This way.”

Together we crawled to the other end of the hallway. Smoke was billowing from that stairwell, too, thick and dark though still not as bad as the other one. Either way it didn’t look good, but the little girl didn’t seem concerned – not even when we crawled out onto the landing, and the orange flicker of flames was visible several floors below.

“No,” I said. “It’ll be too hot.”

“Come on, mister,” she said again.

She began scrambling down the stairs, staying as low as possible. I could hardly leave her, so I followed.

The heat was unbearable, and by the time we were on the floor below, visibility was zero. The smoke was so thick and black that even the flicker of the flames had vanished; the only way I knew how close they were was from the heat and the deafening roar of it. Have you ever been near to a large bonfire? Have you heard how loudly it crackles? That’s nothing. Big fires, they roar. They sound closer to a freight train, a tornado. It’s a sound so loud that it sets off a primal kind of terror, even without the heat and the smoke to add to the danger. What I’m saying is that it’s something that’s very difficult to crawl towards, yet there we were.

I couldn’t see the little girl, but every time I began to panic she would reach back and touch me. The heat grew and I could smell my hair burning, my clothing threatening to catch. The floor was excruciating, and while I didn’t realise it at the time, I was in the process of receiving third degree burns on my hands and knees from the floor alone. I felt faint, the heat making my head pound. It seemed to drain my of my energy, and during those last seconds – as we passed directly past the floor where the inferno was at its worst – I was sure I was running only on pure animal instinct to get away.

Then we descended into the hallway below the fire, and it was all gone. The heat lingered, but it was nothing compared to what it was before. The smoke was hazy grey, high up by the ceiling. The little girl was tugging at me, and I realised I’d collapsed to the ground.

“Quickly, mister!” she said now. “Not far!”

In my pain and confusion, it didn’t occur to me that she wasn’t burned; that she had no difficulty breathing. She tugged hard at my clothing, and while I didn’t know that my clothing was alight at the time, later I remembered and wondered how she had done it. With her prompting and encouragement I made it down the last of the stairs and out into the hotel’s lobby, which was shockingly untouched. Alarms were blaring, but the room was free of smoke and many of the hotel’s employees remained there, grabbing people as they emerged, coughing, from stairwells and hurrying them outside. When I stumbled into the lobby I was immediately tackled by several employees who were, I was later told, beating the flames from me. I had stumbled into the lobby on fire.

I don’t remember anything else. I didn’t have time to mention the girl. I passed out, and was kept in a medically induced coma while my body recovered from serious burns. I very nearly didn’t make it, and when I awoke I had several months of painful operations and skin grafts to go. My hands were badly burned, though the doctors managed to save nearly all my fingers – I’m only missing the little fingers to the first knuckle, and while the scarring is bad I can use the hands well. My knees are badly scarred but functional. My back isn’t pretty to look at, but it doesn’t bother me now, not outside of itching in the heat. I forgot about the girl until just before I was released from hospital, five months later, but to my relief I was told that no children had died in the fire. Whoever she was, she had gotten out safe.

Almost a year later, my grandfather died. He was the son of my firefighter great-grandfather, and when my own father and I were around his house, sorting through his things, we came across some of my great-grandfather’s stuff. Medals, a few old photographs of the family, some letters. My father and I went through the pictures, my father pointing out relatives and telling a few stories here and there. What you would expect from such an occasion, really – but then I found an old picture of a little girl.

I recognised her immediately as the little girl I had seen in the hotel – there was no denying it. The picture was an unpleasant one, taken post-mortem, and while half of her body was badly charred the other half looked as though she could be sleeping. Her hair was the same, the bow singed but present. The dress was the same. I could even still hear how she sounded. Come on, mister! I was so shocked I didn’t say anything. My father looked at it for a long moment, and then he gave a sad sigh.

“I wish he had found out who she was,” he said. “That haunted him. He felt like he failed her.” He took the photo from me and looked a little more closely at it. “Nonsense, of course. He did everything for that little girl. I’m sure she would thank him if she could.”

She did, I thought. She did.

[belpheroo]

Title: Fear & Loving in Devildom, Part 1 Pairing: Belphegor x MC Rating: 🍋 Summary: Belphie is guilt-ridden, but also horny. Funny how often those two things coincide when you catch feels for the girl you killed. Notes: Another sequel to A “maybe” and On the Way to a “Yes”. Why do all my mature fics have pictures? No idea. But enjoy this edit of Belphie with an “o” blush. This... is basically a pwp at this point.

In hindsight, perhaps the kiss was ill-advised.

This was the first thought that slipped through Belphegor’s mind when he woke up, a human girl asleep in his bed, wrapped up tightly in blankets to keep her roaming hands at bay. Having to result to bunting in this day and age was truly incredible, but so was this girl’s intense desire to get him out of his clothes.

This. This was his punishment. His personally designed hell within Hell.

That is what he told himself as he lay, aching and wanting underneath her just the night before. He’d even risked touching her as she did him, over her clothes, but still enough to make his body respond and thrum with heat. She had gotten her hand down between them, palming him through his pants before he managed to tear her hands away and roll over to recover, half curled in on himself and groaning with frustration.

Just take me, she had said. Brazen, foolish, irresponsible human. She had no idea what that meant when spoken to a demon. He couldn’t be his own self-control and hers!

Instead, she ended up straight jacketed into a fluffy blanket and he counted backwards from 5000 until his body calmed and he felt sleepy again instead of wired and awake.

Like he said. Hell.

—

Of all the people who had to understand humans in… this matter, Asmo was Belphegor’s only hope. He caught his brother between RAD classes and he was all too happy to take in the gossip.

“There is this… student.” Belphegor began carefully.

“Hmm?” Asmo hummed, eyes sparkling with interest.

“She— we… okay, look. We kiss. We touch, but she keeps pushing for more and I don’t know how to talk her out of it.”

Asmo looked positively beaming and the sight alone made Belphegor start to think he had made a huge mistake.

“Aww, Belphie! I’m sure if you just explain to her that you aren’t ready she will listen! Though I can’t imagine what is holding you back…”

“Oh no, I’m ready. I’m always one provocation away from fucking her to death, that’s the problem. I gotta get her to stop wanting me so I don’t get the opportunity.”

Asmo stared, silent and wide eyed.

“… is that a euphemism for your eagerness or an actual concer—“

“Actual concern.”

“Why in the world do you think having sex with her will kill her?”

“Overzealousness? Superior strength? Going demon in the moment?”

“Really?!” Asmo gasped for dramatic effect, “You think you would? Sheesh, you really do wanna bang this girl!”

“Immensely.”

“Good! I’m so proud of you! Though… I still don’t get why you think that would hurt her. A good ole RAD girl isn’t going to wilt like a delicate flower over you, Belphie. You aren’t exactly Lucifer.”

Ah. Asmo thought he was referring to another demon. Why wouldn’t he? There was only one human female in Devildom. He thought to just come out with it, to say who it was, but then it struck him that within a day every one of his brother’s would know his predicament and if Lucifer heard he’d be imprisoned in that damn attic for the rest of his life.

This was… a calculated error.

“Yeah. Uh. Guess you’re right. Just… been awhile.” Belphegor said, trying to back off the topic.

“I’ll say. I never pegged you for the type, Belphie.” Asmo said, tone going sing-song as he waggled an eyebrow at him.

“Well if you need any fun treats for the occasion you just let me know. I have a whole assortment of condoms, flavored and regular! Also some things to help spice things up… but maybe we’ll save that for your second or third go.”

“…I regret speaking to you.”

Asmo clapped his hands together joyfully, “Then my job is done!”

—

By the end of the day, Belphegor actually had considered for half a second turning himself into Lucifer on his own. He dreaded each ticking hour, knowing full well she would come bouncing up to him, smiling slyly with her greedy little mitts ready to grip and pull and hold him down while she sealed her lips over his again and again the moment they were alone.

He’d fallen asleep once during a make-out session. That’s how often this madness was occurring, but he liked it too much to stop. He liked her too much to stop. The time where he had supervised visits with her was long over by now and with how little time they had left until the end of the year, Belphegor treasured every single moment he had her all to himself.

And yet, he was wracked with anxiety that he’d hurt her. Again.

Classes ended for the day and sure enough by the time he was halfway back inside the House of Lamentation she was waiting for him.

“Beel is in your guys’ room.” She said, and Belphegor made a soft sound of understanding.

“And Mammon might come poking around if we go to my room.”

He knew where this was going.

“Soooo… you wanna go take a nap in the a t t i c?” She spelled out the word, careful to keep her voice down with the other brothers funneling back home.

“I’ll just go nap in my room.” Belphegor said, trying to keep his voice even and nonchalant.

“…oh. Okay.”

Belphegor restrained a groan at the disappointment in her voice, shooting a direct line of guilt into his chest.

“You can still come with me,” he continued, “Beel would be happy to get some time alone too.”

She pouted, but kept her voice quiet, “Belphie, I want a kiss.”

“You always do.” He said, meaning to sound begrudgingly affectionate, but instead it came out more exasperated. Her cheeks flushed but it had nothing to do with embarrassment.

“I think I’ll just go hang out with Mammon then. You go take your nap.”

He felt his heart sink a fraction.

“… you don’t do the same kinda stuff with Mammon do you?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” She said, voice stiffening and doing nothing to ease the faint edge of jealousy spreading in his chest.

“I mean, do you ask him to kiss you?”

“Sometimes!” She said, crossing her arms and shifting her weight to one side as she cocked her hip.

“I like Mammon. I hug and kiss people I like.”

“… are you serious?” His voice was hushed but harsh.

“It’s not like I belong to you, Belphegor.”

It wasn’t intentional, but within a second there was a sudden surge of a sulfuric smell and his visage changed, horns curling at his temples and his tail swishing violently around his ankles until it snaked out and wrapped around her ankle. She yelped, stumbling so that he had to catch her.

“What did you say?” He hissed, holding her tightly against his chest, his grip unyielding and hard enough to make her breath flutter in her chest.

“…I don’t belong to you.” She repeated, voice low and her eyes narrowed. There was no fear in her tone and in her gaze was a familiar heated sparkle that jarred Belphegor with recognition.

She was toying with him.

“Upstairs. Now.”

Her lips spread into a sensuous smile, self-satisfied and smug.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” She said, pulling back. Belphegor refused to let her go for a few seconds, just to remind her of the strength in his arms and that she would leave when he allowed it.

The sudden possessiveness passed him as quickly as it came and he let go of her quickly, remembering himself and trying to quell the anxious feeling that had replaced the emotion in his chest.

Belphegor gave her a wilting look, shoulders sagging just a fraction in disappointment at himself for being so easily baited. Regardless, he followed her up the stairs, trying to keep his eyes off the way she was deliberately swaying her hips with each excited little half jump up the steps.

When they got to the attic door she turned to press her back against the wood, hands behind her back on the doorknob.

“I don’t really do that stuff with Mammon.”

Belphegor said nothing.

“Just you.”

He made a gruff sound, stepping forward and pressing against her as he took hold of the doorknob over her hand and pushed it open. She stumbled, but kept herself up right with a giggle as she unzipped her jacket and tossed it on the floor before sitting on the edge of his old bed.

She was working on the little snap buttons on the side of her ankle boots, kicking them off with a smile as she leaned back on the heels of her palms.

She spread her thighs open slightly, flashing her panties from beneath her RAD uniform skirt. They were pastel pink and made with delicate lace. Slowly she slipped her thumb under the hem of her thigh-high socks, sliding them down just the smallest fraction.

“You still wanna nap?”

He said her name, not soft and sensuous but firm and serious. Her expression changed, brow furrowing slightly as she slowly closed her legs.

“…We need to talk.”

“Uh-oh.”

“I’m sorry, it’s not… it’s nothing bad it’s just—“

“Belphie.” She sat up, raising a hand to stop him. Her other hand patted the side of the bed next to her, “C’mere. I’ll behave myself, I promise.”

Her tone had changed too and it was enough to help ease the tension arching through his body. With a sigh, Belphegor sulked over and sat next to her, shoulders falling forward.

“I’m not dumb, Belphie. I know something is up, but I figured when you were ready you’d just tell me… which was probably not how I should have handled it.”

She gently took his hand within hers and after a moment, he curled his fingers around her own.

“I like you. I really like you, Belphie. I wanna be with you because I like you so much, not because I’m… ya know.”

“Insatiable?”

“I was gonna say ‘thirsty as fuck’ but that sounds better!”

Belphegor chuckled despite himself and her smile became genuine and amused. It helped relax him.

“I still don’t get you.”

“Because of what happened?”

“Not specifically. I’m worried that…”

Why was it so hard to say to her? He’d told Asmo easily but now looking at her he felt the words get caught in his throat.

“You’re worried if we’re intimate you’ll accidentally hurt me.”

Belphegor sighed.

“Demons are stronger than humans. When our emotions are heightened that raises ten-fold.”

She smiled and suddenly burst into a fit of giggles. Belphegor started at her, wide eyed.

“You’re just so unbelievably sweet, you know that?”

He sputtered because he did not know that! A scowl flashed over his face as he shook his head.

“That is not a word anyone has used to describe me for a very, very long ass time.”

“There is absolutely no way you’re going to hurt me you big idiot.”

“Y-you don’t know that!”

She only laughed, leaning in to rest her cheek against his shoulder. He stiffened, sitting up straighter as he felt his face go hot. How could she laugh at him over this?! It was a serious situation!

“You do love me.” She said, rubbing her cheek against him, “Sometimes I wondered, ya know? You’re always so damn aloof!”

Belphegor didn’t even know what to say, opening and closing his mouth several times before he settled on a frustrated groan.

“…you don’t understand anything, per usual.”

She sat back from him, a curious look on her face as he turned towards her. She yelped as he shoved her down, pinning her to the bed, his hand gently finding its way around her neck and keeping her firmly in place. He straddled her thighs, using his own legs to keep her down before looming over her with a look in his eyes that made her pulse jump beneath his hand.

“‘Love’ doesn’t begin to describe what I want. I have owned your death and now I would own your life. Your body. The very depths of your soul. I want everything you have to give, I want the things you wouldn’t give to anyone else.”

His hand tightened, but not enough to cut off her breathing. The placement of his hand did more to cut off her blood flow then her breath, making her head spin as she looked up at him through her eyelashes.

Belphegor leaned down to press a kiss to them, her eyelid fluttering shut beneath his lips.

“Are you prepared for that? Are you ready for what it means to be mine? …I don’t know if you are.”

He kissed her, gentle and slow. The softness of the kiss was cut short suddenly when she set her teeth into his bottom lip, sharp and hard enough to almost draw blood. Belphegor jerked back, a growl in his throat. She smiled mischievously up at him.

“Careful. I bite.”

“You’ll beg too.”

His voice was a low rumble, turning her head to the side and latching his teeth to the side of her bare neck. He was not gentle, sucking fiercely until he was certain the skin would be bruised and red. She whimpered, but the sound was more pleasure than pain as he worried the sore spot with his tongue.

“Belphie…” she keened, “…make a pact with me.”

“Finally,” He said, breath hot on her skin, “You begin to understand.”

“Give yourself to me.”

“That’s my line.” Belphegor whispered, releasing her neck and gently running his fingertips through her hair. She mirrored the touch, trailing her hand into the hair at the back of his neck and curling her fingers there. Her other hand rubbed a path up his chest, massaging into his skin as she fisted his shirt into her grip.

“It’s mine too.”

—

How had he resisted this for so long? How could he have denied himself the touch of her bare skin against his? She was so unbelievably soft, despite the harshness in which she gripped her thighs around his waist. Her nipples pebbled hard when he pressed his chest against hers. He could feel the heat radiating from between her legs against his hips, but he’d yet to possess her yet. Belphegor was more focused on leaving his mark on her neck and across her collarbone, making her as spotted as himself.

Her hand curled at the base of one of his horns, finger brushing against the ridges of it. He liked her touch there, his tail curling around her calf gently if only to give himself another point of contact.

The pact was already made. The sensation of connection was strong now, tying him to her and her whims, though she had yet to make use of it. She liked him being in control, she liked him making decisions for her in this moment, letting her just enjoy the sensation of touch.

She’d left a mark of her own, right at the juncture of his shoulder and his neck, but Belphegor would wear such a bite with pride, even if he did give her a small punishing spank to the side of her thigh when she gave it to him.

“C’mon… c’mon…” she panted, rocking her hips against him in a bid to slide the length of him up against her core.

“So impatient.” Belphegor said with a soft laugh, “You make it so difficult to treat you nicely.”

He hefted her up, turning unto his side and then his back. He sunk comfortably into the bed, hands stroking up and down her thighs as she sat above him.

“Take care of it yourself… I’m tired.”

“Lazy cow.” She mumbled, but hardly had a reason to complain now that she was in the perfect position to get exactly what she wanted. He rose up his hand and smacked her on the backside, earning himself a rock of her hips.

“Come here then.” She sighed, sitting up on her knees. Her hand wrapped around him, taking her time to feel the soft silky skin and admire how hard it was beneath it. Belphegor hummed contently, kneading his hands into her hips as she guided the tip of him between her legs, letting his head just barely kiss her folds.

She was ungodly wet, using his head to rub against her swollen bud before she pushed him back towards her entrance and slipped down, inch by delicious inch. His tail tightened around her leg, his throat working as a groan wracked through his throat at the sheer tightness. The hot, textured feel of her walls, clutching and spasming as she adjusted to him was as close to the celestial realm as he was ever going to get again.

Belphegor ran his hand up her stomach to her breast, gently palming over the soft delicate skin and thumbing her nipple until it was swollen and pink.

She rocked a few times, slipping him in to the hilt until she was sitting perfectly flush against his hips. She rested one hand back on her own calf, leaning back to angle her hips just so. Belphegor took the time to admire where they were connected, wet and glistening. She rose and fell slightly and he moaned at the mere sight of himself disappearing into her.

She sought out his hand with her other, lacing their fingers together as she lifted again and slid down onto him in slow, agonizing thrusts. He let the hand on her breast fall to her hip, helping to hold her steady as he occasionally lifted his hips to push up into her when she came down.

Her face was a picture of absolute ecstasy, lips parted and kiss swollen, skin flushing prettily from her cheeks down to her chest. She was always so god damned lewd, but nothing about this was for show. Belphegor knew he looked positively wrecked himself, expression painted with the pleasures of comfort and sex.

They moved together, slow and relaxed and relishing in the simple enjoyment of being connected. She’d been right. Belphegor had never felt so safe. From himself and from the world. Here with her, here inside her… he had never felt so perfectly content. Her soft chants of ‘yes’ and quiet moans was a sweeter sound than any angelic choir.

Her breath came quicker, head lolling slightly to the side as she lost herself in the rise and fall of her own hips. Her pace was losing its steady rhythm, going fast and then slow as she found an angle that made his head rub right up against the bundle of nerves against her upper walls. Her thighs trembled as she whimpered out a soft cry. She was clutching tighter now, unrelenting and steadily rising as her thrusts became shallow and short.

Belphegor pushed his shoulders down into the bed, bracing himself as he rocked upwards, edging her on as her pink skin turned ever more red and blotchy.

“Fuck… I’m going to cum. Belphie… Belphie…” She gasped with complete abandon, “Belphie, I’m going to cum.”

God dammit, if she kept talking like that, so was he. He smoothed his hand down from her hip to her center, pressing the pad of his thumb firmly against her clit. He didn’t even have to rub, the touch alone snapped the cord of tension, spasms wracking over her body and clutching their way down the shaft of him as she broke apart.

Belphegor’s eyelids fluttered closed just so she wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing his eyes roll back in his head. His balls pulled tight against him as his cock flexed and jerked and he came inside her. Belphegor held back a cry in his throat at just how rapidly he was spurting, pulsating erratically as she practically milked each drop from him. Exhaustion nearly immediately overtook him, but he resisted the burden of his Avatar through sheer force of will.

“Ow…Bel…your tail..” She mumbled, tugging gently at the side of his tail. He had wrapped it around her so tightly her skin was indenting. Belphegor let go immediately, holding an arm around her to keep her in place as he sat up and checked the damage.

“M’okay.” She said, wrapping her arms around his neck and nuzzling her nose against his hairline, damp with sweat. Belphegor sighed with relief, hands running up her back and down a few times before he wrapped his arms around her.

“You okay?” She asked, voice quiet in his ear.  He nodded, strands of his hair tickling her cheek as he did so.

“I love you.” Belphegor said, as simple and direct as if he were stating the sky were blue. She wouldn’t have expected it any other way.

“Goodie.” She said with a deep breath, giving her hips a little wiggle around him. He was still hard, but knew he would soften soon. Belphegor felt the slow slide of wetness as his own cum slid down his shaft from inside her, messy and warm.

“You feel so good.” She cooed, pressing kisses to his neck, open and hot.

Alright. Maybe it wouldn’t be that soon.

—

She used the pact to tap out by the sixth round, thighs creamy and wet and trembling. Shame. He had hoped to make it a solid seven.

[annakie]

Patchy

A little under two years ago I made this post, a chronicle of Patchy, the outside feral, turned inside kitty who took ten years to learn to love being petted.

Today we got some bad news.

TW for pet illness under the cut.

Patchy’s always been a bit of a puker, usually oh, say, once a month or so she’d have a good puke for no reason.  I’ve had other cats that are pukers so it’s not that surprising.

In the late winter/early spring I started to notice more frequent pukes.

I’d decided around that time that I needed to find healthier food for my cats, with Leela, the oldest turning 16, Fry turning 11, Pemily turning 7 and Patchy turning, I don’t know, 12 or 13.  No way to really know.  They already got decent food, but I did my research and had started looking at Blue Buffalo, American Journey and Dave’s canned food. 

Patchy had been on a mostly canned food diet since she went to the vet back in early 2020 and had a bunch of teeth pulled.  Also, as a note, Patchy’s brief flirtation with hanging out in the rest of the house ended after like a month.  She and Fry fought too much, and eventually he claimed the rest of the house is his.  He also still thinks the master bedroom should be his, but, Patchy defends that territory well if anyone else encroaches. (The door just stays closed most of the time.)  I really wish they could have all gotten along, I loved having Patchy out, but both Fry and Patchy agreed it wasn’t going to work.

The food she’d been on was pretty junk-food-ish though, which she did love and eat. But I wanted everyone on more or less the same diet and the highest quality food I could readily get them.  So I bought a lot of cans of different kinds of food, and kept a list of which ones seemed to be hits and misses. (I still have a dozen cans of the kind nobody liked -- Blue Buffalo Wilderness Salmon -- I’ve been meaning to take to the city shelter).

Around halfway into this experiment I noticed Patchy puking more, so I decided to try to stick with her favorite kinds, which, I thought was helping.

But once I was fully vaccinated this year, it was time to get all the pets to the vet.  I noticed Patchy had still lost some weight, I thought it was due to switching around her food too much earlier, and tried to stick with the things I felt she really liked.

Then, of course, Leela got sick, spent two and a half days in the pet ER and almost died back in April, and then it was like... yeah we’re done being afraid of COVID, we’re done waiting.  It’s time to get them all their checkups.

My regular vet was doing COVID restrictions so no pet owners inside the clinic back then, so they took Patchy (and the others) in without me.  I thought Patchy had lost some weight, but Dr. B. sounded alarmed when he called me with how much lost she’d lost in the last year, about five pounds.  He wanted to do some bloodwork for Patchy, and I said of course go for it.  

He called back, sounding much calmer and was like “her bloodwork couldn’t be more perfect.  Let’s try switching up her food, get her on some sensitive stomach food and let’s see how she’s doing in a couple weeks.”

So two weeks later it did seem like she was doing better, I called Dr. B back and he said to bring her back in a month.

It was my plan to take her back next week when I had some PTO coming.  I admit, later than planned... my last couple of months have been mucn more focused on Leela... who, thankfully, continues to thrive.  But feeling like my time with her is running out, she’s been my main area of concern.

The last few days though, Patchy has really not been eating well.  Sometimes she does OK, sometimes nothing at all.  And then puking every day.  I swapped her back even to a few cans of the Junk Food (Whiskas) I still had laying around.  She’d eat it... and then puke it up.  And also she... stopped sleeping with me.  I thought... well, it’s summer.  It’s probably too hot to cuddle.  But she stopped laying on the bed.  She stopped coming up for pets when I come to bed and hang out for awhile specifically to spend time with her and pet her.  She runs under the bed again when I come into the room.  It’s like we regressed to three or four years ago... just two weeks after our two year anniversary of getting to pet her.

So this afternoon we went to the vet.  Getting her into the carrier sucked.  I tried nice methods, then I had to scare her into the closet by running the vacuum, and then pretty roughly grab her.  I have scratches and a pretty deep bite on my thumb which either maybe hit a nerve or is infected, may have to go to the doctor for it tomorrow. (Yes, washed it thoroughly with soap as soon as I could.)  I also hated betraying her trust that badly, but it’s for her own good.  But it was rough.

Dr B. wasn’t working so I saw one of the other vets.  I liked him. Also COVID restrictions are gone so I got to go inside. But after talking to him for a few minutes, going over her history and what changes I’ve made, he spent a long time rubbing her intestines (Patchy was perfectly behaved, at least.)   Then he looked concerned.  Then he said let’s do an ultrasound.

A few minutes he came back in and showed me her scans. 

Lymphoma.

I was a bit stunned for a second so I missed a bit of the technical speak he said next, but it came down to the best thing we could do is give her some medicine that may buy her more time.  It doesn’t sound like Chemo or Operating is even really an option.  I’m going to call back tomorrow and see if Dr. B or the vet I talked to can talk me through it a little better now that I’ve had a chance to digest.

If I can get Patchy to take the medicine, and if she responds well to it... she may have 3 - 6 months left.

If she won’t take it, or if she doesn’t respond, it’s at this point, a matter of her comfort and quality of life.  So... weeks.  And I’m worried about getting her to take the medicine, especially since she won’t even come let me pet her and we just had a huge trust betrayal today. I don’t know if I could take her spending her last few weeks hating me, especially if the medicine doesn’t work.

The vet also told me that... I didn’t do anything wrong.  And we did the right thing six or so weeks ago by changing her food and seeing if a few other things worked. Especially with how good her blookwork looked.  He barely felt the cancer today, he said six weeks ago Dr. B wouldn’t have been able to feel it at all.  And for this particular type of lymphoma... there’s not a lot to be done, anyway.  That made me feel better, at least.

(As a really dumb side note, after I got her home, I sat down to eat dinner and watch an episode of Star Trek to take my mind off of all of this since I’d been crying since I found out, paid my bill, and drove home, stopping at a drive through so I didn’t have the mental load of cooking.  And I’m in the middle of my rewatch of Enterprise.  I bet any trekkies reading this can guess what episode was next in my rewatch because yep I’m in season two and A NIGHT IN SICKBAY started playing, of course, so obviously I NOPED THE FUCK OUT OF THAT EPISODE.  For the non-Trekkies.... the Captain has a dog on board, an adorable beagle, Porthos.  The dog gets sick and almost dies and spends his night in Sickbay.  He does pull through.  But the ONE episode centered around a beloved pet getting sick and almost dying... and that’s the episode that fate decreed I was supposed to watch tonight. I did not.  I don’t know if I can watch it anytime soon.)

So now for the next few weeks I will spend my time being grateful that Leela is alive and thriving and pray she keeps doing so -- I will continue to give her extra love and care and attention, and also I will need to do the same for Patchy.  I can’t even do it at the same time because Patchy will not come out here, and will not allow Leela in her room. 

I am low-key freaking out that there’s the possibility of the nightmare scenario happening to me again.  In winter 2016, after months of being sick, I woke up on Christmas morning and my 16-year-old cat Jim had died overnight.  It was terrible, and traumatic, and I had to deal with everything all alone because anyone who could support me was... well, it was Christmas morning and my family was all out of town, too.  Posting about it on Tumblr... actually really helped me, since it’s the only place I felt like I could talk about it.

That Christmas was on a Sunday.

Wednesday morning I woke up to hearing my dog, Cebu, moaning in pain.   I rushed him to the vet, but whatever happened overnight, it was too late, maybe there wasn’t anything we ever could have done even if I’d been awake when the puking started.  The vet said the kindest thing we could do was put him to sleep.  And we did.

Also I just, JUST now realized that the vet who helped put Cebu to sleep was the same vet who I saw today about Patchy.

But I lost two of my pets within 3 days of each other.  I was very lucky that my job let us have the week between Christmas and New Years off that year.  I had a few days to pull myself together, and I needed it.  It took months to recover totally, though.  Every once in awhile I think about that week and I still cry, though.  I miss them both so much and they both had deaths that were less than ideal.

I remember thinking then “I have like, five years of reprive.  Leela will be sixteen in five years, and that’s when I have to start to worry again, when I have to be ready to say goodbye again.”

I thought then that even after that I’d have two or three years until Patchy would leave me, and two or three years past that until Fry.  And then five more years with Pemily.

Right now I’m realizing that I will likely lose Patchy, very best case in six months, but possibly before July is over.

I need Leela to keep thriving.  I don’t know how I would handle losing another two so close together again.

Patchy is... she’s the one who chose me.  I chose my other cats.  Fry and Pemily I plucked from the backyard when they were tiny kittens and brought them inside.  They didn’t have a choice.  Leela I adopted from a rescue, she didn’t have a choice.  Patchy chose to stay.  She chose to stick around when she realized I’d feed her.  It took years but she learned to trust, she chose to come inside when it was cold, when it was hot, when it was storming, and when she was pregnant.  She chose me to help raise the last litter of kittens she’d ever had.  (My entire Rescue Kitties tag is full of adventures in finding, raising and usually adopting out strays. Lots and lots of posts about Patchy and her final litter.  Been awhile since I’ve done it, though.)

I used to joke that Patchy was my roommate, not a pet.  She ate, drank, did her business, and kept to herself for a long time.  Don’t get me wrong, she was a very good, quiet, considerate roommate and I loved her.  But it wasn’t until that wonderful day she let me pet her that I felt like she was my pet. 

I loved having her just hanging out living in the house since 2014, but the last two years especially have brought me such joy.  I’ve tried to never take Patchy’s trust in me for granted.  It was EARNED.  Every small step forward was a milestone to be celebrated. I worked for every bit of trust and love Patchy has given me, and have been rewarded.  And it was worth it.  Every minute.  Every long, patient year.

Even now I’m telling myself... without me, she would have died years ago.  Probably violently, or starved, maybe frozen to death.  Getting to die of cancer brought on by older age is not something that most feral cats ever get to do.  Getting to become an inside kitty where she’s loved, and comfortable for the second half of her life was something remarkable, brought on by her wiles and will to survive for so many years, bolstered by the food I left out for her.  She’s had this much time, this much life, this much comfort and love that she would have never had otherwise, and that’s something to be happy about.

I’ve watched dozens of ferals come and go through my neighborhood throughout the years.  I feed them, I work on seeing if I can get them to trust me enough to let me TNR them, but even those that I have, I don’t keep seeing for much longer.  There’s one right now, I jokingly call him Patchy’s Boyfriend.  He still won’t trust me and never has fallen for the trap when I’ve tried.  But he’s there most nights when I feed him around 11.  He’s getting terribly thin despite the quality food I leave out.  I’ll miss him.

But none of them were Patchy.  None of them became what she is to me. None of them survived long enough to adapt and decide to live another life.

Also?  I wouldn’t have Pemily without her.  Pemily is literally Patchy’s Granddaughter and that is one more thing I love Patchy for.

I feel guilty sometimes, both because I don’t spend nearly enough waking hours with her I feel, but I have three others who need me, as well. One who’s time is growing short, as well.  And they don’t get to sleep with me, she does.  What a joy it was all winter when I would wake up and she’d be sleeping on my chest.  I’d get a bit annoyed when she’d sleep with her backside to my face and her tail would tickle my face and wake me up.  I’m a side-sleeper half the night and she hated that it was harder to get comfortable on me that way.  She still doesn’t want to have my hand just stay on her, she wants pets and skirtches, no long-form touching.  That’s ok.  I sleep better with her weight on me.

I don’t know what the next few weeks or months will hold, but at least pet-wise, it’s going to be rough.  I’m going to wrap this up and give these three out here a good pet, then go hope Patchy comes and asks for love, too.  Tomorrow is one more day with all four of them, and for that, I’ll be grateful, for every remaining day.

[heroloverangel]

View From The Top

Being in his slim form does offer Fatgum some advantages.

You need more butter.

The first time you’d come face-to-face with Fatgum’s slim form, you’d burst into tears out of sheer worry for the man. It had taken him almost an hour to convince you that he was fine, really! It was nothing that couldn’t be fixed with some extra TLC (and KFC); he’d be back to normal in no time! Of course you still had questions. How could you help? Could he still do hero work and other intense activity while he was recovering? What about sex?

And now, years later, you’ve become an unfortunate pro at fattening him back up after an rough mission. Your engagement ring is stored safely in the pocket of your apron as you rush around the large kitchen, shoving yet another cake into one of the three ovens before tapping on your phone to confirm your fourth order to the grocery store in as many hours. You’re going to spend the next week cooking like a mad woman, shoveling as much food as you possibly can into your fiance's eager mouth.

You’re pulling the current round of baked goods out of their ovens and debating on whether to just add bacon to everything you’re about to cook next when the door opens and the man in question ducks inside. Immediately you’re at his side, fussing over his ruined hoodie and the scrapes decorating his torso.

“Honey, I’m okay! Ya know it takes a lot more than that to bring me down!” He grins at you and strolls into the kitchen like someone who hasn’t just lost half of his body weight. “Man, it smells great in here. You did all this work for me?”

“Always. How are you feeling?” You slip your ring back on and untie your apron, waiting for him to finish devouring a banana cream pie in only four bites. Taishiro flashes you a thumbs up, then freezes when he gets a good look at the tight, low-cut sweater you’re wearing. You may have had an ulterior motive behind your wardrobe choices.

Fatgum swallows the food and licks his lips. “Sweetheart…” he trails off, shrugging off the remnants of his destroyed shirt. Before you can respond he’s in front of you and you’re hoisted up over his shoulder. It takes all your effort to hide your laughter, thankful once again for the high ceilings in your home and he carries you back to the bedroom like a sack of flour. He deposits you on the mattress with surprising care and kisses you until your lungs begin to hurt for air.

There are some things that never change about Fatgum, regardless of his weight. He’s still so warmly confident towards anything he faces. He’s still ridiculously tall and strong. He’s still hungry; his appetite is just a little more specific at the moment. You love him no matter how he looks, but there are certain things that are safer for you in his muscular form, and he never misses the opportunity to take advantage of these times. It’s wonderfully vanilla, but Fatgum loves nothing more than plain old missionary when he gets the chance to be on top.

He’s wasting no time today, easily stripping off your clothes in record time and caging your naked body underneath him to cover your face in kisses. He gropes at your chest, easily fitting your breast in one hand and squeezing your soft skin to feel your nipple harden against his palm. You always feel so small with him, completely enveloped by his sheer size and all the enthusiasm he brings with it. You should feel overwhelmed by it, helpless even; but instead you bask in the knowledge that all of it, all of him, is devoted to loving you.

“I’ve been waitin’ for this all day, sugar,” Taishiro murmurs against your ear and you shiver at the touch of his breath. “You got any idea how hard it is to win a fight like this when all I can think about is gettin’ back here?” His lips press against your throat, sucking a red mark into your neck and earning a needy little whine from you. He moves down your body; even in his haste to fuck you, he still takes proper time to suck and tease at your breasts.

“Taiiii,” you groan impatiently, squirming under him and he laughs into your chest. With your nipples rock hard and almost painfully sensitive, he finally continues his trail downwards. His breath is so warm on your stomach as he leaves kisses in his wake and his large hands slip around your thighs to urge them open. You don’t need the encouragement; you’re already very familiar with what that mouth can do.

You find yourself eagerly yanked lower on the bed, Fatgum pulling your legs over his wide shoulders for the best view. “That’s my sweet girl,” he groans, fingers spreading your folds apart to enjoy how wet you’ve gotten with so little work. His tongue is on you without another word, licking a messy stripe up your pussy to lap at your clit and your mind goes blissfully blank. “You taste even better than your cooking, cupcake.” You groan at the compliment, trailing off into a shuddering gasp as he begins to eat you out with enthusiasm. Your ears fill with the very wet sounds of him running his tongue over you, wriggling inside your cunt while his fingers rub teasingly at your clit. He’s got you crying out his name within minutes, gushing your juices into his waiting mouth as you grip the sheets for dear life.

“I really got me the best girl in the world, don’t I?” His words are interrupted with a noisy slurp before he leans back to catch his breath. You run a hand through his blond hair, pant out some half-thought words that you’re just as lucky and are immediately distracted again by that wonderful mouth. You forget how to breathe as he presses closer, trying to push his tongue even deeper into your pussy. Your thighs squeeze uselessly around his head, doing nothing to muffle the noises of pure delight coming from him. It’s impossible to see with your eyes rolled back, but you can practically feel him grinning against your skin.

Your knuckles are turning white and you wonder for a moment if your nails are tearing holes into your nice sheets, but you can’t focus on such an unnecessary thought for long. “Fuck, Tai. You feel so good,” you whimper, barely audible over the wet noises coming from below. “You always get me so worked up, baby.” A shudder runs down your spin and you feel you’re about to come again. He can tell, from the way you squirm and gasp and clench around him, but he doesn’t back off. Taishiro doubles his efforts to please you, tongue fucking you without rest for what feels like an eternity. You don’t know how many orgasms he forces out of your body; you can hardly remember your own name by the time he releases you to admire his efforts.

“I, uh, maybe overdid it, huh?” Fatgum offers a sheepish laugh at the sight of you. You’re shaking, sweat pouring off of you as you struggle to catch your breath; your clit is throbbing almost painfully from his touches and your cunt feels so drenched you’d be surprised if you weren’t staining the sheets. “You okay down there, sweetie?”

“Peachy,” you gasp out half-jokingly. “Just gimme a minute here. Fuck…”

Your fiance stretches, so tall he still has to remain slightly curled up to keep your faces level as he settles above you. He waits for you to calm down, leaving kisses all over your neck and lips and you’re extremely aware how soaked his face is from you. The two of you have done this far too many times for it to embarrass you, but you still feel heat rising to your cheeks when you’re reminded how good he makes you feel and how much he loves doing it.

Eventually you manage to get your body under control and wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. “Com on big guy, let’s take care of you.” Taishiro nods happily, reaching between your bodies to position himself. Even in his skinnier form his dick is huge; only losing a bit of girth from his normal size, he’s definitely big enough to hurt you if he didn’t spend so much time preparing you to take him. He moves slow, giving your much smaller body time to adjust to the thick head of his cock spreading you open inch by inch.

“I got ya, honeybun,” he coos in your ear, brushing your increasingly messy hair out of your eyes. “Nice an’ easy, you’re doin’ so good.” He slips halfway into you and finally starts thrusting, keeping his eyes on yours to see how you feel. You pull him down for a kiss, hiding your moan as he slides deeper with his movements and offering him a sweet little smile of encouragement. “Y’know it’s nice when I get to be on top, lets me do all the work and take care of ya, and all you gotta do is lie there for me,” he huffs, working himself further into your willing cunt until, after several careful minutes of work, he manages to bottom out.

You’re in total bliss, you’ll never get tired of the sensation of being completely stretched and filled like this as long as you live. He pulls out and back in a few times for confirmation before his pace increases. “That’s it, baby. You’re so good to me,” you pant, taking advantage of the rare opportunity to wrap your legs around him and pull him closer. He keeps his hands on the bed to brace himself above you, if only to avoid crushing you with his huge size, but his mouth more than makes up for the lack of contact. You’re being kissed nonstop, only separating to breathe or offer half-formed compliments about how good all of it feels. One noticeably deep thrust forces the air out of your lungs and leaves you gasping for more. “Right there, love. Really- ah! I wanna feel it nice and hard…”

“You sure about that?” He grunts, reaching your hip and pulling you up just a bit to hit a spot he knows drives you crazy. Your eyes snap shut in response, chest heaving with effort.

“I don’t want to walk tomorrow,” you confirm, only half serious but it’s all the approval he needs to slam forward like a battering ram and you see stars. “T-Taishiro, just like that, love you so much...” the words spill mindlessly out of your mouth as you’re completely lost in his attention.

He’s right there with you, desperately close after hours of waiting to feel you wrapped around his dick like this. “Ah honey, me too.” One massive hand comes up to cup your cheek, your eyes meeting his with a look of complete happiness. “Hell, I’m gonna…” he trails off, choking out a rough moan of your name and you can feel the sudden, warm flood of him coming hard inside you, overflowing out of your stuffed pussy and running down your spread thighs. He keeps up a determined effort to maintain his rhythm for you, releasing your face to drag his fingers down your body. He only needs to stroke your sensitive clit for a few seconds before you join him, clamping down hard on his cock and holding on to his strong arms like your life depends on it.

Fatgum lets you wear yourself out, waiting for your shivering to subside before he pulls out of you. The sheets are an absolute mess, rumpled and stained from both of your release, but he’ll deal with that later. With a heavy thud he flops down on the mattress beside you, sharing a laugh while you recover. “Man, I gotta get my ass kicked more often,” he jokes. “That view from the top is incredible!”

“Noooo,” you protest weakly, slapping a sweaty hand against his chest. You lay there in comfortable silence for a minute, wearing matching grins and enjoying the peace until his stomach starts growling.

“You want anything while I’m up?” He’s already moving, hopping out of bed to wrap a robe around himself.

You shake your head, bones feeling like lead. “Gonna need some time here, you go ahead.” He shoots you a thumbs up and disappears into the kitchen, returning minutes later with half of a cake and a bottle of water for you. You accept it gratefully, sitting up and looking at the disaster that is your bed. “Guess I should get some laundry started.”

Taishiro smirks at you. “It can wait,” he wipes his mouth, setting his food safely out of the way on the dresser. “ ‘Cause as soon as you’re ready, we’re gonna make good on that promise about you not walkin’ tomorrow.”

You’re going to have a very busy, exhausting week until he gets himself back to normal.

[sserpente]

24 little kinks | Doors 3, 4, 5 🎄

“You remember that chocolate advent calendar I got you for December?”

“I do,” he chuckled and pressed a tender kiss to your temple. “You made me display it in the kitchen so I would not eat it all at once.”

Your smile widened. “How about we get another one?”

Loki raised an eyebrow, only now paying proper attention to the sex toy ad. Then, he frowned. It was an odd mixture of disgust, genuine curiosity and even a hint of arousal flashing in his blue eyes.

NSFW warnings: use of handcuffs and blindfolds

-

The God of Mischief blinked at you, both unbelieving and indignant.

“You will not dare stop now, will you?”

“Loki…” You knew how quickly you could make him cum to give him some quick relief from all your teasing but that would not satisfy him. Loki wanted to ravish you, he wanted to fuck you until you were unable to walk… but your sense of responsibility rang in your ears strongly.

“We are not done.” He did not need to nod down to his aching erection but his point was clear. His gaze was piercing, threatening, his nostrils flaring. Loki would be angry if you interrupted your lovemaking now but what other choice did you have? People’s lives might be in danger… and there you thought December would be a time of peace.

When he realised you were indeed not coming back to bed, he growled. Irritated, he stood himself, flicking his wrists to get dressed. His full amour wrapped around his handsome body, covering him wholly… and yet failed to hide the giant bulge in his black leather trousers.

He offered you his hand which you took, earning you a sigh and teleported you both to the compound.

Only the fraction of a second later and a funny tingling on your skin as Loki’s magic faded away, you found yourself standing in knee-deep snow, the falling flakes almost as beautiful as Loki when he slept next to you. Oh, cheesy… but it was the horror unfolding in front of you that made you gasp.

A large hole had been torn into one of the thick walls, foreign creatures snarling as they poured inside like crabs being washed away from shore—how many? One dozen, two dozen maybe? You could swear you had seen them before. From afar, they looked a little like…

Loki pushed you behind you protectively the moment he realised. Those were Chitauri. His still aching erection forgotten and arousal now quickly fading, his instincts took over. Two sharp daggers materialised in his hands, his jaw clenching.

“Are those… h-how? Where do they come from?”

“We will find out.”

He tossed you one dagger which you caught skilfully. Loki had taught you how to use just a small dagger to your advantage. You fought your way through to the Avengers rapidly, taking only a few bruises and a cut on your calf. Nothing Loki would be unable to heal for you later.

“What took you so long?!” Tony bellowed, his voice mechanic due to his Iron Man suit. Steve flung Thor’s hammer at one of the Chitauri, killing it instantly before he darted forward to give him cover.

“Where the hell are those things coming from, Reindeer Games?” Loki’s dislike for the nickname he had chosen for him showed when he slid a passing Chitauri’s throat. But what irritated him even more was that he did not know. Most of them had died along with their abomination of a planet back when Stark destroyed it and Thanos was dead.

There were only a handful of them left, with the heroes all flying and jumping around to end them quickly and Loki destroying most of them. The dreadful silence spreading in the compound when the last disgusting body dropped dead to the ground rang in your ears like the screeching of a bat.

“What on Earth happened here?” You said breathlessly, leaning against Loki for support. Natasha pursed her lips when she saw.

-

They had attacked out of nowhere, remembering whom they had dealt with back in New York, so you learned when you sat at the huge glass table in the conference room, clutching a hot cup of coffee. It would explain the explosions you had heard on the phone.

“Do you have any idea where they came from?” You asked Loki quietly. You were pretty much the only one speaking to him like you would to any other civilised person. The God of Mischief lifted his chin, leaning back as his blue eyes briefly locked with Thor’s.

“They might not be the only ones who survived. More of them could be hiding here on Midgard.”

“Where?” Tony probed.

“They prefer dark places, preferably underground.”

“The sewers.” Natasha concluded.

“That could be an opportunity.”

“I’ll contact the local sanitary district. They can give us instant access to copies of the ground plans of the sewers. FRIDAY will have them within the next hour.”

-

“(Y/N), you are coming to our Christmas dinner, right?” Tony asked. While FRIDAY was doing all the work and searching for any alien abnormalities in the country over the last couple of weeks, the Avengers took the time to finally take a breath again.

Fighting creatures from outer space had long become a routine—and none of them were willing to let the jolly Christmas spirit escape through that giant hole in the wall.

“Of course… if I can bring Loki.”

“If he behaves,” he retorted grumpily. The God of Mischief rolled his eyes in response in an annoyed manner, resulting in Thor patting his back fiercely.

“Well, that’ll be fun, brother. We’ll stuff ourselves with turkey, open those Christmas crackers (Y/N) brings every year, play some games and drink mulled wine and chocolate fruit… you will love this Midgardian holiday.”

Loki said nothing. He had been quiet ever since the attack, only speaking a few words if necessary. His bad mood infected you. A particularly hard blow from one of the Chitauri had caused you a growing headache, a slight concussion maybe.

“Let’s go home.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around his body. “Call me if there’s any news. We’ll be here in a heartbeat.”

“Dr Cho should treat your wounds.” You shook your head quickly.

“Loki can do that.”

“Alright then... Anyhow, the sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can enjoy some mulled wine and fucking celebrate Christmas like we should.”

“Language…” Steve muttered. You nodded. Mulled wine sounded like a great idea, a Christmas market even better. You’d have to come up with something to comfort Loki after your prompt departure this morning after all.

-

His magic made it worse, the pain rippling through your head when he teleported you back into your bedroom nearly forcing you to your knees. Loki scooped you up like a bride when he noticed your growing weakness, making you lie down on your bed. His piercing blue eyes scanned your body so fast you shifted uncomfortably, hoping he would not find any major injuries.

“I took a hit on the head, should be fine in a few hours…” His gaze was strict, palm coming up to touch your forehead and ease your headache before he tended to your calf.

“Loki… are you okay? You’re being unusually quiet.”

“I am bursting.” You glanced down. He was still hard.

“How were you able to hide that from the Avengers?”

“You should be familiar with my illusions by now.” His voice changed. It became hoarse, demanding and darker, luring you right into doing his bidding—especially if that included you naked.

Both of you could tell you were in no condition to bring him release now. Besides, despite his erection, the moment was gone. There was a problem at hand—with aliens Loki would have preferred never having to see again.

A sigh escaped his lips as he joined you on the bed, pressing you against his strong body.

“Sorry…” Your eyes fell shut. “That’s not how I imagined our December to go.”

“Shh… never apologise, my sweet.” A small smile tugged on your lips when you fell back asleep to let your body recover.

 -

The following days were no better. You woke to countless messages from Tony, busied yourself with meetings and first searches down in the sewers. You only hoped that their suspicions were right and the Chitauri were indeed hiding underground—not to mention the tube in New York. As long as you were unsure every last one of them had been maimed, people’s lives were in danger—and that was hardly ideal at this time of the year.

Steve had roped Loki and you in so much you even forgot about opening your advent calendar. Well—Loki did not forget about it. Every morning, after your coffee had woken you up properly from the lack of sleep and time for yourselves, you noticed one box missing. You did not know where they had gone but surely, Loki was up to something. If he knew what he unpacked every morning, that was.

The fifth of December was a Thursday. None of you had had luck thus far in tracking down any remaining Chitauri—if there were any—but slowly, the government started to panic, wanting this issue to be resolved when all you wanted was a break from the humid air underground, all the dirt, vomit-up, rat shit and other emetic smells, not to mention the darkness.

This was not how you had imagined your pre-Christmas time to be. Furthermore… well, not every couple had sex every night and morning. But the advent calendar you had bought was inspiring and it tore your nerves apart that even in sleep, you were unable to rest properly.

Loki’s unease infected you. The Chitauri reminded him of his time with Thanos and whenever he suffered, then so did you. That was what tired you both.

You flinched when your phone rang, forcefully ripping you from slumber. Loki growled. With a flick of his hand, he switched it off and rolled over, preventing you from stirring.

That night he had healed your concussion and that bleeding cut on your calf, he had relieved himself under the shower after you had fallen asleep. He needed you today—and he knew how much you needed him too. Both of you had to relieve some stress and that advent calendar you had suggested to buy would help you do just that.

Yesterday’s door contained a blindfold. The day before it was lust-enhancing lube which could also be used as massage oil. This morning… Loki had removed the box last night already and hid it under your bed. Handcuffs… this morning he would make sure you both relaxed.

You were still half asleep by the time Loki gently took your wrists and held them down above your head. In this state, you were too tired to question him—right until you suddenly felt something soft around them, locking you to the bedpost.

“Loki?” Your eyes flew open. You glanced up to spot a pair of plush handcuffs immobilising your hands all the while Loki already busied himself with your sleepwear, slowly pulling it off your body.

“Lights out, sweet one…” He mused hoarsely. You gasped when he slipped the blindfold on you, leaving you completely at his mercy.

“S-so that’s where the boxes went.”

Loki chuckled. “You are not surprised, are you?”

“Never, Trickster.” You shivered when he removed the covers, exposing your now naked skin to his greedy eyes. You could tell he was licking his lips without even seeing him.

He had to admit, the surprises the advent calendar had revealed in the last three days had played right into his cards. Robbing you of some of your senses was the perfect way to take your minds off things and make you relax for him—and if anything, Loki wanted you to feel as good as you made him feel.

The massage oil smelled like fresh coconuts, like that shampoo you had used at the beginning of the year. It warmed quickly in his hands when he poured it into his palms, then spread it all over your abdomen.

Your breathing was shaky already. He grinned.

Loki shushed you when you squirmed and bucked your hips up to meet his touch. “Patience, my sweet…”

“W-what is that?”

“Massage oil,” he explained briefly. “Now close your eyes and let me pamper that beautiful body of yours.” Let me prepare your wanton quim for my aching length… he added silently.

In any other universe, Loki could have been a massage therapist. Magical big and soft hands explored your curves and found your knots, focusing on the muscles which needed his attention the most. Not a single body part was left out. He massaged your thighs and calves, your feet and your arms, your hips, your hands… his own breathing growing heavier the closer he inched between your legs.

You were dripping by the time he paid proper attention to your clit, circling it lazily and applying just enough pressure to make you bucked your hips again, a scream escaping your lips when he slipped two fingers inside your warmth to test your wetness. You were so close… the knot tightening in your stomach warming your whole body from head to toe, making you ready for waves of pleasure cursing through your limbs…

You moaned his name when you fell from the cliff, your tight walls clenching around his fingers as he fucked you through your orgasm, kneading your clit firmly. He chuckled once more. With him, lust-enhancing lube was redundant.

“Loki, please…”

Your voice sounded like music in his ears. Freeing his pulsing erection from his trousers, he positioned himself between your legs, his tip, leaking pre-cum already, pressing against your wet and awaiting entrance. Power surged through him as he watched your blindfolded form awaiting his next move.

He sheathed himself inside you with but one firm thrust, his hands grabbing your hips for support. You moaned again, your cunt welcoming him as he retreated and rutted back into you, quickly finding a pace that made you both lose your minds.

The fact you could neither see nor touch him aroused you both even more. Never before had you felt such intense pleasure. Your wrists were getting sore from pulling at the handcuffs so much but you couldn’t care less. Knowing Loki was in charge and could do to you whatever he pleased felt so exciting by the time he was about to cum your body had already recovered for another orgasm.

You reached your high together, Loki groaning as he spilled himself inside you and his cock twitching against your walls as he filled you with your seed. You contracted around him, milking him for all he was worth until he collapsed on top of you completely spent, quickly waving his hand to free you from those handcuffs—even if he wished he could keep you like this for a while longer. Well… there would be a lot more time until Christmas.

“Thank you.” You murmured when he removed the blindfold for you and had you snuggle up against him. You didn’t thank him for the sex. You didn’t thank him for the orgasms… Loki and you were like two magnets, unable to resist one another. The closeness and body contact meant so much more than sex… and so did taking your minds off things before you returned to the exhausting life as an Avenger.

You had ended up as one of them by coincidence. You had no superpowers, no magical hammer that only you could lift and you did not turn into a green monster. You were merely a young woman with martial arts experience, pride and a sense for doing the right thing without being as self-righteous as Steve or as selfish as Tony had once been—you were somewhere in between, neither hero nor villain—which was one of the many reasons, so Loki had admitted to you once, why he had fallen in love with you.

-

A/N: Door 6 will be opened tomorrow, on December 6th!

Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my first (to be) published novel! Also, if you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Division of Labor (3/?)

Summary:  

“The past years, we have noticed a lot of our fresh high school graduates knew nothing about responsibilities that await them outside high school and even college. Many students do not master budgeting, taxes, household planning, loans and we hope to raise a generation who can navigate the adult world without the consequences of bad decisions they are bound to make going in blindly…”

Paradis High school starts a program incorporating adulting into their curriculum and Hange and Levi are paired together.

Note: From request of @a-golden-hearted-snk-fan. See this link for the request

Other Chapters: 1 2

Link to cross-postings: AO3

It turned out Hange did think the housing plan through.  

"It's a rent to own contract...so after paying this certain amount of rent… within a number of years… we can own the house basically," Hange explained. Her preparation was evident in the wad of papers she had carelessly spread out on the table in front of Levi.

At first glance, Levi could not make sense of what those papers were. Eventually, by carefully scanning through the therefore, herewiths, in the events, the interest rates and percentages, Levi figured out they were contracts and manuals full of buying and renting policies of one particular real estate company.

Levi looked out the glass window of the booth of the quiet diner they had chosen to work in. He had tried to use the mechanical movements of the crowds on a commute home to at least help clear his mind enough to make sense of how exactly a rent-to-own contract worked. Levi was sure Hange was at least attempting to explain everything about the buying policies of the real estate company in layman's terms. Although Levi was somewhat impressed by the dedication Hange put into it, as soon as she started to talk about the policies and agreements beyond ‘we get to own the house after a while,’ Levi ended up spacing out. The prospect of spending, even if it was fake money, caused him enough unnecessary stress.  

He turned his attention to the two flour sacks who were propped by the window of the diner booth they occupied. He had purposefully turned their ugly faces towards the window at the small possibility that Shadis, Erwin or even Zeke were amongst the crowds of people walking through the crowds and into the subway station. A testament to their determination not to waste any unnecessary funds or worse, flunk the program

"If we catch you in public not holding your baby, you pay babysitting dues or you fail." Shadis had said in homeroom class that morning.

After some discussion as a class and with some confirmation from Erwin, the whole class came to the understanding that if they went out separately, they were in no obligation to take their babies with them. It could always be assumed after all, that their partner had their baby with them. Being in public with their partner meant someone had to have the baby with them or they risk pay necessary dues. At any rate, they found solace in the fact that if they were going to look like idiots holding brown sacks with shabbily drawn faces on them, they at least had someone to look like an idiot with.

Levi looked back at  Hange to see that she had not stopped talking. Levi was not too surprised, having the disinterested equivalent of a resting bitch face, he had to master the art of looking like he cared to get past most classes.  

“Where did you get these anyway?” Levi asked, interrupting the tirade of his partner. The answer to that question would at least be something he would be able to understand.

“The procedures manual and their company policies are available online.” Hange answered matter-of-factly. Levi noted how quickly she recovered from having her explanation of policy and business jargon interrupted.

As Levi looked once again through highlighted lines and messy scrawls, he felt embarrassed that he was not even halfway done with the design they had discussed the night before. He slowly brought out his folder where he had at least begun to draw the floor plan from the link Hange had sent him the night before.

“How has the floor plan been Levi?” Hange cocked her head to one side. Levi could not tell if she was provoking him or if she was genuinely curious about the progress of his work. Regardless, the way that she sifted through the papers under her, while looking pointedly at the roughly drawn floor plan on his hands had Levi self conscious.

It was Tuesday afternoon, less than 24 hours since she had bombarded him with messages. Less than 24 hours since she dropped a pdf file of the floor plan and went MIA, Levi guessed it was to prepare all the documents which Hange had just laid out in front of him that morning. As he compared his own progress to hers, he also became aware of one more reality, their first outputs were due tomorrow. Begrudgingly Levi had to admit, despite her naivete and overenthusiasm, Hange had a better sense of urgency than he did.

“I planned everything out already. I just need to outline it.” Levi said, trying at least not to sound as defensive as he felt.

“But can you do it alone? I didn’t sleep at all last night to get this done.” Hange looked more concerned than anything else.”

As Levi looked back at a skeleton of a housing plan that lay in front of him, he started to understand her concern. The house they had selected was huge and designing would take hours if he actually wanted to put thought into it.

“I mean even if we take out the 1800 from our budget of 3600 dollars a month, we still have to consider furniture and it might take you a while to come out with the pricing right? I guess we could leave out 1000 dollars for that….”

Furniture? Levi had stopped listening at ‘furniture.’ Somehow Levi had assumed that it would have been fully furnished when they bought it and they just had to rearrange furniture. “We’re buying an unfurnished house?” Levi had hoped Hange was pulling his leg.

Hange knitted her brows in confusion. “Did I say anything about a furnished house?”

                                         Division of Labor

“There are two methods of accounting used in modern day society: cost accounting and accrual accounting or as I’d like to call them: an idiot’s sorry excuse for accounting and actual accounting.” Zeke wrote the two terms on the board and plopped himself on the teacher’s desk. “Really though, why the hell do people still use cost accounting in modern society, it’s fucking stupid, barbaric, might as well go back to bartering…”

Levi had no idea what either of them were. As he looked around at his classmates, they looked as lost as he was about the mini rant that Zeke gave about the two accounting methods he had failed to define.

After a few minutes of ranting, Zeke finally noticed the blank faces of his students. “Okay Social Experiment.” Zeke cocked his head to the side. “Actually, let’s call it an IQ Test.  Jean stand up.”

“Yes sir!” Jean followed way too enthusiastically.

“You got the investment banker occupation so ideally you should be the most knowledgeable on money among everyone in the room,” Zeke continued. “You have zero dollars and I gave you 100 dollars right now. How much do you have?”

“100 dollars sir,” Jean answered.

“That’s a smart boy.” Zeke slapped his desk so hard, Armin and Eren jumped, having sat so close to the teacher’s desk. “Okay, so if I lent you 100 dollars, how much do you have?”

“100 dollars.”

“So, you’re gonna run away with my money? No plans of paying me back?”

Jean tensed up in confusion. “No sir. I’ll be paying you back.”

“Then is it your money?"

“It’s with me sir… So I think…” Jean paused for a second. “So it’s your money sir?”

“Tell me. The money is with you after all. Is it your money or my money?”

“It’s my money sir!” Jean answered too quickly, probably without even thinking.

“I lent you the money. I expect it back so it’s mine. Calling my money your money is practically stealing Kirschtein. I can call a lawyer on you.” Zeke narrowed his eyes at Jean for a few seconds before shrugging in defeat. “But you’re not a criminal. You’re just an idiot who relies on outdated accounting methods. Don’t take that with you when you become an actual financial advisor. Sit down. I’m calling someone else.” Zeke turned back to the class list on the teacher’s table. “Okay, anyone in this list with a finance related position...” Zeke’s eyes widened in surprise as he looked through the list. He looked at the class with a cat-like grin, his eyes focusing on one boy in the front row. “In my almost sixteen years of knowing you, I did not expect you to be suitable but it looks like you’re the only one in this list other than Jean with an accounting related occupation.”

“Really? It’s accounting related?” Eren had never been one to be good at Math. Everyone in the class agreed and as their professor hinted at his assigned occupation, many began to whisper, possibly theorizing as to what Eren had gotten.

They did not have to theorize for long though, within seconds, Zeke continued to discuss. “Okay Eren, let’s discuss your field of expertise --- insurance.”

Eren slowly nodded in return. It was a nod which everyone in the room had understood at first glance. Insurance was not Eren’s field of expertise.

Zeke did not seem to care though. “Case study time! I have 3000 dollars. Eren the insurance salesman sells me $200 dollars a month worth of insurance and I buy one years worth of prepaid insurance. By the end of this month, how much worth of assets do I have left?”

“By assets, you mean money?”

“Check a fucking dictionary.”

Eren sat down for a second. From his seat, Levi could hear some whispers from Mikasa and some clicks of a digital keyboard, or possibly a calculator.

“600 dollars.”

“Final answer?”

“Yes. Final Answer.” Eren seemed so sure of his answer.

From seeing Zeke’s face at the answer, Levi could not help but think, maybe phrasing it as a question was the better option for Eren.

“This is why your generation is so shit at saving. With this type of attitude, you‘re all gonna get into some shity Ponzi scheme with yourself and some sad saps who actually pitied you enough to lend you money without assessing your credit rating that’s just gonna continue riding on some endless cycle until you all go to jail or declare bankruptcy.” Zeke ranted again as he punched the buttons of the projector, turning it on. “ Scratch that. At this rate, none of you would probably even know how to declare bankruptcy.”

Accounting 101 . Those two words flashed on the screen, the contrast of black words in a default font to the white background of a hastily made powerpoint only getting clearer as the projector whirred to life.

“The amount of debt you can get into in the real world will fuck up your life. So to simulate the real world consequences of unpaid debt, we decided to make your fake debt by the end of the year one of the main determinants of your final grade. And we will be using real accounting to determine your debt. Any questions before we start?”

It was Sasha who raised her hand from the back of the classroom.

“Yes?” Zeke asked with shoddily hidden annoyance.

“So which one is cost and which one is accrual again, Sir?”

                                      Division of Labor

"I told you. I'll handle the accounting," Hange said. "We can make this work." Her words were not at all assuring.

It was Wednesday afternoon. They had submitted their selection for their house that afternoon in class so that meant no more takebacks. Their house plans were due midnight and Levi was not even halfway done. To add insult to injury, Levi was still reeling from Zeke’s lecture just a few hours ago.

Initially, Hange had suggested they buy the furniture in installments. The prospect of buying in installments though became all the more terrifying with the accounting system Zeke had introduced to them that day and the weight of a negative balance sheet on their grades.

As soon as you buy something and enter into debt, the money owed is not yours anymore. Levi shuddered as those words echoed in his head. He narrowed his eyes at Hange. "Really Hange? Can we? After deciding to spend half your salary each month on an unfinished 3 bedroom house?" Levi asked as he gestured to their next tall order that stretched over two aisles. They were in the baby's section in the supermarket.

It was their third round around that aisle, trying to look for a brand of diaper and a brand of formula that would not cost them a total of 400 dollars a month.

“I mean, we still have 800 dollars on groceries if we put our furniture installments budget at 1000 dollars a month,” Hange explained. “So if we spend 400 dollars on baby stuff, we should have 400 left.”

“400 dollars for a month’s worth of meals for a family of four.” Levi clarified. “There must be something here we could choose not to spend on.” Or maybe we could find a cheaper place to buy things in. Levi thought back to the supermarket nearer to his house and made a mental note to check it. The output was due on Friday anyway.

"Hey, Armin and Annie are here too!" Hange said enthusiastically.

Too enthusiastically. Levi clarified to himself. That was not at all good news. If other groups were going to that supermarket, that must mean they think they have the financial leeway to spend there, That could also possibly mean he and Hange had somehow fucked up financially as a pair, struggling to make ends meet. Armin was a studious student with a good head on his shoulders and he chose to shop in a more expensive supermarket. Are we spending too much?

"Let's ask Armin…" Levi did not need to finish his sentence. By the time, he looked to his side, where Hange stood or at least was supposed to be standing, the latter was already on her way to the blond boy..

Levi did not waste anytime. As Hange chatted up Armin, Levi made a few rounds through the two aisles again, his phone calculator on hand.

Just in case. Levi told himself. Just in case they had miscalculated the minimum expense of 400 dollars.

                                      Division of Labor

Hange had a long talk with Armin. By that point, Levi had lost count of the number of rounds he had made around the aisle. He had stopped counting at five. He had done his research on discounts and made some fake accounts and the expense still clocked at $390 dollars.

By the time he and Hange called it quits, the sun was setting. Hange seemed lost in thought and she had been that way since she had finished her conversation with Armin. Levi decided to take over keeping both sacks for the night. He made a small detour to the grocery store nearest to his flat. It was smaller, a little dirtier but it meant a little more room for spending and a bigger chance of saving his grade and graduating. Begrudgingly, sanitation became the least of Levi's issues.

He wrote out all the prices of the important items they had seen in the grocery store. When he got home, he made sure to write them all on a google sheet complete with weight, quantity and prices and sent the link to Hange through an instant message. For some reason, he felt a twinge of disappointment when all he received was a heart react in return.

Of course, Hange still had a lot of things to calculate. Even as they separated less than an hour ago, she had seemed distracted. Levi guessed Armin had told her something game breaking about the accounting process.

What did Armin tell you? You need any help?

Will explain soon. Send the meal plan and house design by 9 pls.

Levi managed to submit the meal plan by nine. He had copied and pasted from some random family cooking website, changing a few ingredients to fit what he thought would be cheaper options. He did not need to think too much of it either. He lived a life many would consider the complete opposite of excess and as a result, had mastered the art of improvisation when it came to food.

His main problem lay with the floor plan of the house. Hange had agreed to handle worrying about the expenses. That was one problem out of his plate.

Even with the money problem out of his hands, Levi found himself working until late anyway. Or not working… Levi was only reminded of his lack of productivity when his phone lit up with a notification.

11:00pm

Hange Zoe

Where??????

Levi only realized then that he had gotten a little carried away with the problem of where to put the washing machine.

                                 Division of Labor

It was a genius idea.

That Wednesday night, only a few hours before the house plan was due, Levi had had fifty tabs open from German and Japanese house designers showing bathrooms and laundry room designs highlighting the novelty and practicality of putting the washing machine in the bathroom. Levi had spent hours pondering the logistics of making it work for the house design Hange had sent him only for her to shoot down the idea an hour before the housing plan was due.

They rented an American style house with a bathroom in every bedroom and the impracticality had dawned on him particularly when it was fifteen minutes to 12am and they were still arguing in chat over how to design the house. In the end, Hange had gotten her way, having brought up the issue of accounting furniture and the fact that they probably did not even have the financial leeway to pay for a washing machine anyway.

Having to deal with the disappointment of losing the opportunity to design the house the way he wanted to and having his unfinished design shipped off to Erwin’s email, with little regard for the effort he had put into the intricacy of both the toilets and the laundry room, Levi was a little pissed. He also considered the fact that he had respected the effort and detail Hange had put into choosing a house and had allowed her to submit a potentially overpriced and unfurnished house as their final product.

And she could not even reciprocate the respect for his whims.

Levi decided then to take a break from it all. It was a silent agreement on both ends. Or there was no need for an agreement anyway. They had finished their deliverables for the week by Thursday.

Everyone had ended up cramming theirs anyway and Levi found himself walking home alone and spending his time outside school hours bingeing whatever was new on Netflix.

By Monday, Levi had not expected to do much. Their breakdown of responsibilities was due Friday, 12am on Thursday to be exact according to the file that Erwin had sent. It was a one page paper with a few questions that just needed answering. They could easily start on Tuesday or Wednesday.

Levi wanted to spend at least just his Monday, peacefully, not considering the program which has been plaguing the start of their junior year since Shadis’ announcement just a week ago. He allowed himself to clear his mind, making sure to just note on his phone to start on the next output by Wednesday. Hange would probably remind him anyway.

He had deluded himself well into thinking the adulting program was limited to those once a week outputs. An announcement was made to meet in the kitchen after lunch for home economics class. His mood that Monday had him living in complete denial of what could actually go on in a school kitchen and for some reason, Levi imagined having a lecture in the kitchen was a completely normal expectation, even with the reminder to bring aprons and gloves. Maybe we just need to put them in lockers or something.

As the students filed in though, some of them panicked and that was when Levi figured out that something was not right. The counters were all lined up with ingredients. Some of the students had recognized the ingredients. Levi looked to Hange to see that she was blank on what the hell the pattern was behind the types of ingredients set out.

There were the essentials--- flour, sugar, eggs. There were exotic ingredients Levi could not even name or pronounce.

“Cardamom, Star Anise, Rose water. What the hell?” It was Jean speaking from behind Levi.

“I’m glad you see the pattern. I’m assuming that means you’ll all do well?” Erwin waited while the rest of the class filed into the room before he raised his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “Today we’ll be having a pop quiz just to make sure you all know what you’re writing when you make the meal plans. In the tables assigned to you, you will see the ingredients for one of the meals you put in your meal plan. Please use them accordingly to make a full course meal from what you had submitted.”

Levi could not remember for the life of him what the hell he had put in that meal plan a week back

[fyeahwildfire]

Spirit Bound

Chapter 5 

Summary: With Liu Kang’s defeat against Ermac it is up to you to be Earthrealms salvation.

Pairing: Mortal Kombat x reader; Bucky x reader

In Shang Tsung’s throne room, all the kombatants gather around to await who will be facing against who. With Johnny being defeated by Cyrax it is up to Liu Kang as he is the last Earthrealm warrior.

“Kombatants! I present this latest creation of Shao Kahn.” Shang Tsung announced just as someone or something was being escorted by four guards with spears. “He is many warriors, their souls fused into one being. Behold...Ermac!”

Ermac turned around and looked at every single combatant, wondering who would dare face him. He the gathered up his green energy to show off his abilities. His entire body glowed a bright green just like that of your powers.

“Be wary Liu Kang. He is unlike anything you have fought before.” Raiden spoke from beside you.

“Liu Kang! You are the sole Earthrealm warrior to progress to this final stage of the tournament!”

You crossed your arms and huff. Well fuck I might as well be invisible. Do they not see me standing here? How insulting.

Ermac faces you and inspects you quietly, you were not like the other warriors in the throne room. You carried something different within you. His eyes shift from you as Liu Kang steps out onto the floor and gets into his fighting stance.

“I am ready.”

“We are many. You are one. We will destroy you.” Ermac gets into his stance.

After a good fight between Ermac and Liu Kang , Ermac came out victorious. You all thought Liu Kang was going to win since he clearly had the upper hand. But it appears, you were all wrong as Ermac used his telekinesis on Liu Kang, thus proving to everyone he was a very deadly kombatant.

You, Raiden, and Kung Lao rush over to Liu Kang as he mumbles in pain about his loss. Raiden looks up to see a smirking Shang Tsung. “See now thunder god, you last warrior has fallen. Earthrealm is now Shao Kahn’s.”

You growl and clench your fists as you rise on your feet. “Liu Kang is not Earthrealms last warrior. I challenge Ermac!”

Kung Lao looks up at you with shock and fear. “Lady Y/n don’t.”

Ignoring Kung Lao’s plea, you walk onto the mat to face off against Ermac. “Let’s see whose power is greater.”

Staring each other down, you see a flicker of hesitation behind Ermac’s eyes.

“Begin.” Shang Tsung announces with enthusiasm.

Ermac comes right at you. He throws punches left and right. You block and dodge every single one. He throws a short punch but pulls it back in and then does a spinning back kick that connects with your midsection.

You fly backwards and land hard against the ground. You wrap your arms around your midsection as the pain was unbearable.

The crowd is tense. Earthrealm warriors can do nothing but watch with fear and concern, as Ermac slowly walks towards you.

“Yield.” Ermac says.

You recover, but it hurts so much that it takes everything in you to sit up on your knees and look him in the eyes. “Never.”

Again, you see the hesitation in Ermac’s eyes. You take advantage and use your telekinesis to throw him backwards. 

Ermac flies backwards and slams into a pillar. CRACK!

You regain your footing as you make your way towards Ermac. He recovers quickly, like the attack nor impact did not affect him. He launches at you, picks you up and slams you into the ground. He does it again and again.

“Y/N!” Earthrealm warriors cry out for you.

The wind knocked out of you; you try to protect yourself from Ermac’s attacks. The only thing that you can think of to give you an advantage, could also be the very thing that could cause you even more pain. You have no other choice, but to use your telepathy.

Pushing through the barriers in his mind, you can hear all the voices inside. Souls. The many souls that were destroyed in Outworlds wars, were now fused into this one man.

Feeling your presence inside his mind, he takes a step back away from you. Like a two-way street. He can also see inside your mind. Your past. Your pain. Your desire. Your power.

Seeing the two of you standing there, the crowd looks among each other wondering why you and Ermac are not fighting.

“Lord Raiden, what is happening?” Kung Lao asks from beside him.

Raiden immediately notices the change in the air. “They are locked in a psychological battle.”

“Meaning?” Johnny looked on and felt the cold wind inside the room. He watches as the wind whips your raven hair.

“Battle of the mind, Johnny Cage.”

Yield. Ermac says telepathically.

No. Earthrealm needs me.

Earthrealm is destined to die. Shao Kahn will have it. Yield. We do not wish to kill you.

A part of you felt pity for the man who was under Shao Kahn’s control, he was nothing but a slave. Used to do Shao Kahn’s evil biddings. However, the other part of you was angry at him, angry that he dared to think you would yield. You would never. Earthrealm is my home and I will defend it by any means necessary!

Not long after, gust of wind surround the room. Liu Kang looks over to Raiden as he was the only one who could control or manipulate the weather. “Lord Raiden, what are you doing?”

“It is not me.” Raiden looks over to you, he notices your irises have changed color. “Lady Y/n is the cause of this.”

Earthrealm warriors watch on as they see you engulfed by whirlwinds and telekinetic energy. 

Ermac uses his telekinesis to fire at you. You swat his telekinetic energy back at him. He continued to fire off rapid blasts, but they did nothing against you.

You levitated off the ground and dodge every single one of Ermac’s telekinetic attacks. You then proceed to grab Ermac by the throat and throw him to the ground all while firing off a huge telekinetic blast. 

Ermac tumbles and slams into another pillar, hard. Debris falls atop of him.

Shang Tsung leans forward in his chair, to see if Ermac would rise and fight back, but after several moments Shang Tsung had declared you the victor.

Earthrealm warriors cheer for your victory. Liu Kang and Kung Lao rush over to you as your energy subsided causing you to drop to your knees from exhaustion and pain. Both Shaolin’s help you back onto your feet.  

“I’ll be okay.” You told both Shaolin’s.

Shang Tsung walked down the steps of his throne and approached you. “Such beauty in combat is rare.”

“Yeah. Well how about I turn you fifty shades of black and blue.” You seethe as Liu Kang and Kung Lao prevent you from striking Shang Tsung.

Shang Tsung chuckles, “Direct. I like it. Perhaps you can join me for dinner. I have a dress your size, you should wear it.”

Liu Kang and Kung Lao glare at Shang Tsung’s attempts at flirting with you.

“Are you out of your damn mind? No, thanks I’ll pass.” You made a face of disgust. “I’ll take that…” You nudge you head over to Ermac.  “…over you any day and that’s saying a lot.”

“Shame. The dress was sewn by the finest designers in Outworld.”

“Liu Kang. Kung Lao. Take me away before I beat his ass.”

Shang Tsung watched with amusement as you walked away with Raiden and the other Earthrealmers. 

Kitana walks up to Shang Tsung and narrows her eyes at you. “She is a greater threat than anticipated. We were wrong to think Liu Kang could stand in our way.”

[iustories]

Vodka and Danger Never Tasted This Sweet

IU x KSH

The delicious smell of bacon and eggs wafted through the air, calling her to rise from the bed after a long night of partying. She reached for her throat, feeling its dryness from within then swallowed carefully, gauging its condition. She sat up and proceeded to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. Her head was throbbing, hangover catching up to her. She tried recalling the events last night only to retrieve fragments of memories that don't even tell a story. It was a blur. Like all other nights—she blacked out. She ruffled her hair as she swung her door open then went straight to the dining table.

"Eonni, cook extra eggs for me please," she requested then propped her elbows on the table, resting her head on the palms. 

Her best friend, Inna shows up the morning after parties because she obligated herself to cook Jieun's recovery meal.

Today was particularly worse for Jieun since she didn't eat before chugging mouthfuls of vodka and whiskey. Her stomach growled relentlessly while her head felt like it was being split in half.

She glanced over to the kitchen door. "Eonni—what the fuck. Who are you?"

She quickly rose upon seeing a man holding plates in his hands appear from the kitchen. He chuckled then rolled his eyes before placing perfectly cooked fried eggs and bacon on the table. She salivated, hunger intensifying after catching a glimpse of the sumptuous food. He strode back to the kitchen without answering her question to collect the bowls of rice and soup he left there with the help of a tray.

"Eat," he ordered as he sat on the chair across her, ignoring the death stare he's been getting since they met. "You're probably famished. It'll help you recover."

"Ya!" she called him, her lip twitching up when he returned her gaze. "Why are you here? Did you do something to me last night? What happened?"

He sighed then tilted his head. "I brought you home, Miss Lee Jieun. You're welcome."

She frowned. "How do you know my name?"

"That's all you've been muttering since I saw you lying down on the curb." He put down his chopsticks. "I'm Lee Jieun, okay? Lee Jieun. Everybody knows me. I'm a regular here. Lee Jieun," he imitates her, causing Jieun to feel embarrassed yet she still kept a straight face.

"I was passed out on the street?"

He took a piece of bacon from the plate and put it on top of his rice. "Yup. I was about to go home when I saw you. To be honest, I was going to turn a blind eye, but I wasn't drunk enough to not care."

She finally decided to take a seat, but she remained guarded since she doesn't trust him enough yet. She began mentally checking the current state of her body.

Does anything hurt? My arms? My Legs? she asked herself.

"Why didn't you get out after dropping me off here? You didn't call anyone from my phone or whatever?"

He began eating which she found rude. "I was drunk too you know and I got tired from carrying you on my back from the ground floor so I laid down on the bed and—"

She slammed the table, turning livid before he finished explaining. "Mwo? What did you do to me? I will report you to—"

He met her eyes again with such confidence and it irked her. "I passed out beside you and woke up just a few hours ago. I didn't mean to sleep that long." She waved her hands as she changed the subject. "Wait. Wait. How did you know where I lived in the first place?"

"I asked you."

"And I answered?"

He nodded then took another bite of bacon, its fat melting into his tongue, causing him to shut his eyes in pleasure. "Don't worry. I'm not a bad person and I didn't do anything to you last night. After this, I'll get going and you'll never see me again."

He quietly finished his meal while Jieun dug into hers. She would take quick glances at him, calculating his movements. She soon gave up nitpicking because he seemed harmless. Once he finished, he offered to fix the mess on the table and wash the dishes which delighted her since she's lazy to do the chores.

She plopped on the couch and turned on the television while he was busy shuffling in the kitchen, doing all the work. As she settled herself comfortably, the doorbell rang. She scrambled to her feet when she remembered her best friend is coming to cook her breakfast. If Inna sees a man in here, she will definitely believe that she's the kind of person others have been naming her.

She was panicking, her mind running on different directions. Before she could even decide what to do with him, the lock clicked then the door opened, revealing Inna.

"I'm done—"

"Jieunah—"

Great. Just great. Jieun thought.

The uninvited guest came out of the kitchen the moment Inna stepped in to greet her. There was a stretch of silence, making everyone uneasy.

"Ah," Jieun started while rubbing her nape. "He's uh—my friend?"

She was so uncertain that Inna immediately confirmed that he was some random guy she met.

"Annyeonghaseyo. I'm Kim Soohyun," he introduced himself in a calm manner then bowed his head.

"Hey, I'm Yoo Inna." she shifts her gaze at Jieun. "Her best friend."

"I'm sorry to be here at this time. It wasn't planned at all. I'll leave now."

He bowed again then swiftly made his way to the door and quietly disappeared. Inna and Jieun were left standing in the middle of the unit, basked in the deafening silence that soon took over after the guest left.

"So..." Inna's voice sent chills down her spine. Jieun never brought a guy home and unfortunately, her best friend saw the first one who set foot in her unit.

"I'm not seeing him. I don't know him. I didn't even meet him until today. I was passed out in the curb according to him and he couldn't ignore me so he took me home. For some reason, I gave him my address and I probably told him the key was under the mat. Then he fell asleep here cause he was drunk too—"

"Jieunah!" She called her name, snapping her fingers in front of my face.

Jieun stopped rambling instantly then looked at her quizzically. "What?"

"I wasn't going to ask about him. I was going to ask if you've eaten breakfast," she stated, a smile trailing off her lips. "You look so pale. I can't believe you'd think I'd judge you for having a guy over.

"I was just worried that you'd think the rumors were right, okay," Jieun retorted as she rolled her eyes.

"Like I would believe them. I know you party hard and sometimes get a little feisty on the dance floor. Maybe you have kissed some guys before, but I'm sure you never took them home." Inna was teasing her with her eyes. "Well, that's because you're always knocked out dead after the night. It's a feat that nobody bothers to harm you. Your guardian angel must be favoring you a lot."

"Tss." Jieun crossed her arms. "If you want your mornings to be less stressful, you should be the one taking me home. You'll be certain that I'm safe. I hate it when you call me so early to check if I'm still alive."

"I don't want to carry a wasted person. I'm too weak for that. Let your drinking buds take you home. I'm your best friend not your nanny Jieunie."

"Yeah, okay,” she replied while making faces.

"So back to my question. Have you eaten?"

Jieun nodded reluctantly.

"Oh, you cooked? Wow."

"He did."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Jinja? The guy who just left?"

Jieun hummed in response. "He even offered to wash the dishes before he left. A nice guy. Well, it was just creepy that he slept over here but yeah I'm unharmed."

Inna pursed her lips as she tilted her head. "I agree. He seems like a good guy. That part is weird though but if nothing happened to you, then thank God he's the one who took you home."

"Anyway, I'll call Eunji, Baekhyun, and Hanna now. They all left me last night. I need to give them a good scolding."

"Sure. I'll hang around for a few hours to kill time. I have to meet someone after lunch."

--

She hadn't seen the guy since that day. He sure knows how to keep his word. The thought that she'll never meet him again was a huge relief because she's done shameful things on their first encounter.

When she thought his chapter in her storybook had ended, fate found a way to bring them together again. The familiar smell of bacon and eggs woke her from a dreamless sleep after another night of partying, but when she opened her eyes, she realized that she's in a different room. The walls were painted white and green. The door was on the right side. Everything is not in their rightful place. She frantically inhaled the scent of the sheets and panicked further when she whiffed a musky cologne.

No. No. No. This is not it. This is really not my room.

She tipped her head down to check if her clothes were the same and to her shock, she's wearing a checkered boxer short that barely hung around her small waist and an over-sized shirt.

Oh my God. What have I done this time? Who changed my clothes?

She balled her fist into her hair as she attempted to scavenge her memory for clues but failed to capture anything useful.

"I blacked out again," she concluded.

She proceeded to scan the room for her things, but spotted none. However, the picture frames on top of a wooden dresser drew her attention. She cautiously walked and checked them out. Upon seeing the photos, her knees almost buckled.

It's him. That guy again. Shit.

She groaned and shook her head in disappointed. She felt angry for putting herself in another awkward situation. But pondering further, she was more annoyed at him for taking notice again. He should have just left her on the street so the police could take her to the station or something. Well that is if the police finds her first before any other person takes advantage of her.

She debated whether she should come out or climb out of the window and jump to her death from the second floor. The second one seems tempting because all she wants right now is to disappear.

Jieun took in deep breaths to calm herself. "Okay. I'm going to wait until he comes in and then I can sort things out. Sounds good."

But two hours passed and her stomach grumbled like crazy while her head ached so bad that she wants to slam it on the wall to knock herself unconscious. She couldn't take it any longer and exited the room to search for him. He was sitting on the couch watching television with his legs crossed. When he heard the door close behind him, he turned and gave Jieun an amused look.

"Took you long enough to come out," he remarked. He knew she was already awake but only refused to show herself. It's impossible to be asleep for 14 hours without feeling hungry after the kind of night she must have had.

"Why am I here?" She asked, her tone had a touch of irritation in it.

He chuckled. "I brought you home obviously."

"Obviously," she replied in a sarcastic tone.

“I know what you mean, silly. I was messing with you. Don't be so agitated."

"Who changed my clothes?"

Her heart thumped faster as she waited for his reply. She silently hoped it wasn't him or else she'd be traumatized. No man has ever seen her bare. She might have shown some skin with the type of clothes she wore, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. She placed limits on that aspect. 

"Oh I called a friend to do it. She's a girl," he stated plainly. "You threw up on your shirt and I washed it last night. They should be dry by now. It's in the laundry room."

"How did I end up here?"

He shifted his position, propping his arm on the backrest of the couch. He closed his hands to form a fist and rested his cheek there. "Well, Miss Lee Jieun. I saw you walking side to side on the street with your eyes half-open. I was in a nearby coffee shop studying for my upcoming exams. I think you were trying to hail a cab but it wasn't that obvious that you were cause you were flailing your hands everywhere."

His lips quirked when he paused, trying his best to hold off his laugh. "When I got out, you were rambling like an old lady. You said—"

Jieun raised her index finger to stop him from speaking. "No more re-enactments. I get it. I'm sure it was embarrassing, but no more details, please. I wouldn't be able to sleep for the next few days if you let me know."

"Oh, I brought you here because the key wasn't under the mat and your phone was missing so I can't call your best friend. I couldn't leave you in front of your door. It's cold."

She sighed. "That's very considerate of you. Thanks. If this ever happens—I'm sure it won't though—but if it does, please just leave me wherever you found me."

"Okay. If you say so." He went back to his original position. "There's food on the table. Eat."

Jieun gobbled down the delicious greasy meal, savoring every bite. She noted that he cooks good breakfast meals. 

He must have been taught by his mother well, she remarked. 

When she finished, she cleaned up and took her clothes from the laundry room then changed into them. Clearing her throat, she stood tall and attempted to look confident but deep inside she was utterly ashamed. He gracefully twisted his torso then turned his head.

"I lost my phone and other stuff right?" She asked, still hoping he was able to recover her things. 

"I'm afraid so."

She sighed. "Bad luck. I don't usually lose things. Anyway, I'm going now."

Then she bowed, a tad lower than usual. "Thank you for everything. I hope we don't see each other again."

"You're welcome," he replied with a small smile.

--

A month later, he found himself tagging along with his friends after attending a talk for a class. They went to eat grilled beef at a nearby restaurant then spontaneously decided to go clubbing. But it's not just some random club. It was that club.

Her words rang in his head again as he recalled the night they first met, unconsciously bringing a smile on his face.

"Wah, look at Soohyun. You must be dating. You're smiling like a fool out of nowhere," Minho commented, causing his other friends to take notice. They ganged up and teased him until they were satisfied. Defending himself would be a waste of time so he let them. He knows they'll insist that he is dating even though he isn't.

They entered the place and walked straight to the counter to order their drinks. After downing a couple of shots, his friends dispersed into the dance floor while he stayed behind and watched. He wasn't in the mood to party so a few bottles of beer would be enough to help him unwind after a long day at school.

I'm a regular here. Her voice echoed again, a little louder this time.

He desperately held the urge to look for her and was successful for a few short while. But later on, his eyes began searching for her in every table. To his disappointment, she wasn't there.  He shook his head in disbelief, chuckling as he took a swig of beer.

Fool. Why are you looking for her? He thought.

He decided to take a seat on the bar stool, turning away from the chaotic scene and finished three more bottles. He's deliberately feeling the buzz at the back of his head, quietly energized and slightly tipsy. When he looked back, the lights flashed on his eyes continuously, escalating his high and the catchy music was pulling him to the center. There was no stopping him now.  

He danced to the song with his eyes shut. If he was sober, he would never consider dancing or even move his shoulders to match the beat. He thought he moved awkwardly and was pretty insecure about that, but he's letting himself loose tonight since he feels surprisingly good. Contrary to how he views himself, the girls that laid eyes on him believed he was pretty hot. They gushed over the guy who was swaying his body smoothly with both of his arms raised halfway. Some women attempted to get him to dance with them, but he successfully got rid of them by subtly turning his body away.

A few minutes later, he stumbled forward when someone crashed into his back. He quickly looked over to see who it was. The lady was facing the opposite direction, yet as he examined closely, he found her figure familiar.

Long jet black hair. Hoop earrings. Fitted sleeveless crop top. High waist shorts.

No way. It's her. I can't be wrong. 

He watched her attentively and noticed that she was quite drunk again. She almost stepped on the foot of the person beside her, but her friend helped her to regain her balance at the last second. Moments later, she started to move her hips side to side while her fingers ran through her hair in one swift motion. It was like she's demanding attention and she successfully got what she asked for, particularly from men. Including his. Especially his.

He was mesmerized, allured by the way she moves. It was easier to hold himself when she was unresponsive. He didn't realize how dangerous it was to see Jieun in this place, conscious.

He was so near yet he couldn't get himself to grab her hand and take her away. The longer he looks, the more he noticed everything about her. He couldn't ignore her like she instructed—she was too beautiful and enchanting to disregard.

He attempted to reach for her arm from behind but a guy inserted himself in the scene and joined her. He can see half of her face now, her red lipstick standing out whenever the ray of LED lights shines above her for a split second. The guy casually slid his hand on her waist and brought her close to his body, but she quickly broke free without a problem. She was such a tease, winking at him before casually leaving him. Soohyun thought he's invisible to her at this point so before she could disappear into the throngs of people, he clutched her wrist and spun her around. She gasped, eyes widening as shock registers in her system. He caught just as she was falling, supporting her weight with his arm then leaned his head forward, their faces now inches apart.

She blinked repeatedly as she made sense of what has happened. The guy she had been praying not to meet is holding her close—dangerously close that is—and his gaze was intense. Her intoxication slowly dissipated while her heart threatened to escape her chest. The immense tension from the sudden encounter caused her to involuntarily press her thighs together.

His face drew closer to her ear and said, "It was so hard not to take notice, Miss Lee Jieun. When I'm buzzed and you're dancing like you were a while ago, I don't think I can ignore you."

He took small steps backward after lifting up, almost hitting the person behind him. "I was thinking..."

"What?" She answered, unable to make out the words leaving his lips because of the blaring music.

"I was thinking," he said it louder this time.

"You're thinking what?" she shouted back.

"That you should go out with me." It was bold of him to assume that she's single but he thought that it's likely that she is since her actions were unrestrained.

"Like date you?" she clarified.

She wished to overlook the tingling sensation in her stomach, but it was stubborn enough to cling unto her until she reconciled with the idea that maybe she's captivated by his charms and gentle demeanor. She was thankful they're in a dark place. Him seeing her all disheveled and untamed was enough humiliation. Her flustered reaction shouldn't add to that list or she'll have to disappear from his sight at once.

"Yeah, date me," he confirmed then beamed at her. "If you do, then from now on, I'll pick you up after your night outs and I’ll take you home even if it's at five in the morning."

They know they probably looked ridiculous since they're in the middle of a disorderly crowd, talking in a raised voice.

She pointed at her ear. "I can't hear you."

"I want to be the one to take you home so date me!"

Jieun pretended she still couldn't hear him, squinting her eyes and contorting her face. Growing frustrated, he approached her, their bodies in close contact when he halted. "I said—"

A playful smile appeared on Jieun's lips before grabbing the hem of his shirt, tugging him forward. Without warning, she snaked her palms around his neck, locking her fingers as they meet in the middle. Closing her eyes, she tiptoed to kiss him. She did it so tenderly and held his nape with utmost care. It was unlike those she shared with others on a night out. She wants him to feel her sincerity and as soon as he did, he returned the favor. Her lips tasted of vodka and danger—an addicting combination—but she was also sweet and that's what he liked the most. He slid his hand and held her waist carefully as he kissed her more. He felt the cracks of her lips and its softness, and he refused to stop. They were not bothered by those surrounding them. They can judge all they want because there's nothing more rewarding than this infinite moment. A few seconds later, she broke away. She smiled again, but wider this time, showing all of her teeth.

"I heard you and yes, I think we should go out," she declared before hauling him out of the club.

She realized that some things just fall into place as if they're meant to be there and those people who meet under these circumstances are lucky. Not everyone can have it this easy so she's giving this guy Soohyun a chance.

[scribbleb-red]

Hello Ghost (An Afternoon Andreil AU)

After college, the Minyard-Hemmicks sell up in South Carolina and Andrew is signed by the Baltimore Bombers.

He buys a house on the outskirts of Leakin Park, it's pretty grand but he has a vision of inviting his family to stay, one day, perhaps.

The house is also more than a bit run down (which is why Andrew figures it was a good price). 

He starts to fix the place up. New paint. New floors. New windows. 

But then weird stuff starts happening. 

Food he was sure was in the fridge disappears. Stationary and paints will vanish from almost under his nose. Tools go missing only to reappear somewhere else. And clothes too (he is sure he brought his favourite black hoodie with him from SC, and Aaron swears he hasn't got it...). 

He starts to hear noises - not loud, just like shuffling, sliding, sometimes like a door is creaking open.

Andrew has nearly done the ground floor when he thinks he's found the answer - navy paint paw prints - all across his freshly stripped and varnished wood floor. 

He won't lie, they're kind of cute. The creature must have knocked over the feature-wall paint.

But then, one day after practice, he comes home and takes off his headphones and he's sure he can hear humming. Whatever animal the pawprints came from, he's sure most of them won't know Bohemian Rhapsody.

He creeps up the stairs, it's pretty tatty up here still. The only room he's really bothered is his own. There are rooms he's barely opened since he arrived - particularly the one that looks like it once belonged to a kid (the yellow clown wallpaper *has* to come down soon).

The humming is coming from the main bathroom. 

His hand hovers over the handle. 

He presses down. 

The door swings open. 

 He swears he sees a flash of red. Blue eyes in the mirror. 

But when he pushes inside, nothing and no one is there. 

"The actual fuck??" he mutters.

The actual fuck is right. 

Over the next few weeks Andrew becomes increasingly paranoid. Summer has bled into autumn and he is pretty sure he's being haunted. 

There is a ghost in this house. There is a ghost in these walls.

He talks to Aaron who just shrugs and tells him to call an exterminator if he has rats in the walls. Andrew is sure there aren't rats in the walls. That's not what he's hearing. Rats don't have nice tenor voices that hum Queen and Blue Oyster Cult through the piping. 

He talks to Nicky, who freaks out because omg Andrew you have to get out before the ghosts turn violent Andrew, you don't know what kind of ghost it is Andrew, what if you piss it off by accident Andrew. Maybe you can get an exorcist Andrew. Or salt? Isn't salt bad for ghosts?

He calls Kevin, who frowns down the line. 

"Are you okay, Minyard? Not getting rattled now you're in the pros?" 

No, Andrew is not rattled. He's doing fucking great for the Bombers. 

"Then get some sleep and... maybe call Bee?"

Great so Kevin thinks he's mad.

He calls the estate agent last. Though really he should have called them first.

"There's something wrong with this house," he says. "Tell me what's wrong with this house." 

"Oh dear." The estate agent is very anxious. "I'm so sorry, Mr Minyard. I thought everyone knew."

Turns out everyone except him did know. Andrew's grand house that he got for basically pennies was once the home of the Butcher of Baltimore. Andrew missed the memo though, too busy getting his brother clean and surviving the mood-meddling, court-prescribed drugs at the time.

"I'm so very sorry," says the estate agent. "I'm afraid there's nothing we can do now, but I do know a good geomancer who could feng shui the property for you." 

 Andrew slams down the phone. 

 So he has a ghost in his house. 

 Probably a murder ghost too. 

 Fuck.

He decides that if he's going to get rid of his ghost, he's going to have to figure out what exactly the ghost is taking, when and why. He starts keeping track in a little notebook. He quickly notices something even weirder than the missing stuff though.

The ghost takes food - not a huge amount - but enough each week. It's mostly fruit and vege, the occasional protein bar. If Andrew makes smoothies from fruit, the ghost will take some. And sometimes the ghost will make smoothies itself and leave half for Andrew.

The ghost launders any of the clothes it borrows. Not everything is returned. But socks will miraculously reappear. So will tshirts and sometimes jumpers. The black hoodie has not made a reappearance. But his woollen winter jumper does, with the elbow holes freshly darned.

The ghost showers. Andrew has noticed more than once that the bathroom mirror is misted and the towels damp when they shouldn't be.

The ghost leaves red hair behind, long curls of it.

The ghost is probably not a ghost. Or if they are, they're a very very corporeal one.

He decides maybe - just maybe - he could lure the ghost out. 

After a shower one day, he writes on the misted mirror:  HELLO GHOST. 

The next day, the ghost leaves a reply: HI HUMAN. 

 Andrew frowns and scrubs the note away.

He goes out to buy clothes for the ghost - no need for them to nick his favourite stuff if they have their own right? 

He leaves the bag in the bathroom and writes: THE BAG IS FOR YOU. 

The next day he sees: THANK U. 

The day after: CAN I HV A TOOTHBRUSH? 

Andrew buys one, even though the ghost writes like a fuckboi.

When he comes home from a long weekend of away matches, the toothbrush is used and wet. There's a Smiley on the mirror in the the mist. Andrew scowls. And he realises the ghost is near - because there's a shuffle, a sigh & for a second he's sure the shadows behind him move.

Andrew and the Ghost fall into a rhythm. 

Sometimes when the ghost needs something there will be a note on the bathroom mirror. Sometimes when the ghost is thankful, they'll leave homecooked left overs in the fridge for Andrew, presumably made when he's at practice.

Aaron asks him one day if he solved his rat problem. 

"It's a ghost problem,” Andrew tells him. “But yes, something like that."

For Christmas, Andrew goes to visit Nicky and Erik in Germany. 

It's three weeks away and he's so anxious about the flights, he forgets about his little ghost in the walls. 

He packs in a hurry. He turns off the lights. Turns down the heating. Locks the doors.

The holiday itself is good. Nicky is thriving now he's back with his boyfriend and Andrew almost feels bad that he kept Nicky from being this happy for so many years. Almost. Because he wouldn't trade those years with Nicky and Aaron for anything. 

He goes home, content.

As soon as he opens the front door, he knows something is wrong. 

It's freezing cold. So cold his breath is vapours on the air. 

There's a smell too, stale and fetid. Like old fruit. 

And that's when he sees him, the ghost.

The ghost is a boy, but he certainly looks half dead. 

He's sprawled on Andrew's new sofa. He's all bones. Emaciated to a point where he looks childish. His skin is sickly pale. His hair is dank and plastered to his forehead. His eyes are closed.

Andrew drops his bag and the ghost's eyes flutter open, just a slither before closing again. 

The ghost is sick. Incredibly sick.

Andrew calls Aaron. 

"My ghost is sick," is the first thing he says. "He has a fever. I don't know what's wrong with him." 

Aaron doesn't pretend to understand, he just lists off ways to bring down a fever. "I can be there in the morning," he tells Andrew. "Just --"

-- Aaron stops short. He can't tell Andrew to keep a ghost alive can he? 

Andrew does what he can. He lifts his ghost up into his arms, wrinkling his nose at the sweaty, sick smell rolling off him. He's far too light and far too small.

Andrew tucks him into his own bed.

He finds a can of fizzy lemonade and brings it upstairs to the ghost. He's barely stirred but as Andrew cracks open the can, the ghost lets out the tiniest of whimpers and it breaks Andrew's heart.

Carefully, he nudges the ghost awake and helps him to drink some of the lemonade. 

"Bring up his sugar levels. Make sure he has plenty of fluids. Anything cold to bring down his temperature." 

It takes nearly an hour for the ghost to drink the lemonade.

Andrew doesn't sleep that night. Doesn't stop applying cold flannels. Checks his temperature every 30 minutes. 

"You better not become a real ghost, Ghost," he warns the boy in his bed. "I want my fucking hoodie back."

Aaron arrives and it’s a good thing he's just finished his rotation in the ER because Andrew's ghost is a young man with one of the worst cases of pnuemonia he's seen in a while. He calls up a professor and explains why he needs a prescription for a variety of medications.

He's able to get them within the morning and they set Andrew's room up to be a hospital bed minus the bleepity-bloopety machines. 

Andrew finally sleeps when Aaron forces him to - but only for a couple hours before he's back at the ghost's side. 

Two days go by.

Ghost wakes up. 

For all that he looks like he hasn't eaten a full meal in his life, his eyes are the most striking Andrew has ever seen in his life. They are coldest blue, like a winter's sky. 

"Hello Ghost," Andrew says. 

"Hi Human," replies the ghost.

Ghost recovers slowly. He sleeps a lot. Andrew cooks for him. Makes him eat soups and broths and slowly reintroduces solids. 

Turns out when Andrew left, he'd locked Ghost inside with only enough food in the cupboards for a week. 

Ghost managed to make it last 12 days.

But with the heating off, Ghost had shivered his way into sickness. 

Andrew asks him how the hell he's been haunting his house when he's clearly not a ghost. Ghost frowns. 

"The walls," he says. "He built the walls too thick so they could hide escape routes." 

 "The Butcher?"

Ghost nods. He's so pale. Andrew presses because he knows there's a secret here and Ghost finally admits: "He was my father." 

The pieces fall into place as Ghost recovers. His name is actually Nathaniel but every time Andrew uses it, Ghost flinches.

Andrew moves Ghost out of the walls where he used to hide and into the house. 

"Why didn't you leave after your father died?" Andrew asks one day over hot chocolate and coffee. 

They're curled up on the sofa, their feet overlapping but nothing else.

"Because he didn't die," Ghost says. "He was killed." 

And out comes the story of how Ghost lived in the house as his father's prisoner. How he was trapped and how he was punished the few times he tried to escape. 

 There are scars, Andrew has seen them. They make sense now.

"My mother escaped though. With millions that belonged to my father. A couple years ago my father killed her... my uncle came in retribution. He killed my father. I was there."  Ghost's voice is thick and raw. His eyes won't meet Andrew's. "He said he'd come back for me."

"He never came back," Andrew fills in the next line. 

"No." 

"But you stayed." 

"I've barely been outside before. I never... I had rations stored and I figured, it was safe here at least, now he was gone." 

"And then I arrived." 

"Yeah. And it was kinda nice. Being your ghost."

Andrew chest feels warm and full. "You're still my ghost," he says after a minute. 

And it's true. This boy from the walls is going to haunt Andrew forever - and he doesn't even mind.

Andrew learnt to live in increments, one breath at a time, one minute, one hour, one day. He'll teach Ghost to do the same, over years. 

They'll find a human name for Ghost. They'll settle on "Neil", a name untainted by the father who hurt him or the mother who left him.

They'll cook together in the evenings, brushing against each other in whispers.

They'll fall asleep together on sofas and then, later, in their shared bed. 

They'll move house together one day, when Andrew transfers to another team. 

One day Andrew is lying in bed next to Neil, tracing patterns over freckled skin and taut muscles. 

"I meant to ask, what was with the pawprints that time? With the paint on the floor?" 

And Neil looks puzzled, then smiles. "Maybe it really was a ghost."

THE END 

[teganberry]

‘Only a heart of pure darkness can exist in perfect balance with your light. That’s why I did this, Kairi, so we can finally be together like we promised.’

Dark Sora has been on my mind all week! Hopefully when I get some time in the future I can come back and colour this properly. This if for @phoenix-downer, @chachacharlieco and everyone else who enjoyed that brilliant Dark Sora thread we had going the other day.

And guess what?! This time I’ve actually written a fic to go along with my drawing under the cut! Be warned this thing is kinda long, and its been a while since I’ve written anything other than scripts and story outlines, so please be kind. Hope you all enjoy my take on Dark Sora!

Reposting my artwork on any site is forbidden.

As the blinding power of her light begun to fade Kairi desperately did all she could to restore her vision. The stone floor of the chamber felt incredibly cold beneath her. Looking downward she focused on the ridiculously ornate dress she’d been forced to wear for the ceremony. The thought of ripping the damn thing off immediately came to mind, but she thought better of it for now. Before anything else she needed to ascertain just what had happened.

The task that brought her here should have been simple enough. A week ago it was discovered that the waters of Radiant Gardens had become inexplicably tainted with darkness once more. No one knew the cause; it had seemingly come out of nowhere. It was quickly determined that, despite the Restoration Committees’ best efforts, the only way to stop the spread of the darkness would be with the light of a pure heart. That was where Kairi came in, as Princess possessing a heart of pure light. She need only touch source of Radiant Gardens many rivers with her pure light and the darkness would be eradicated once more.

When Leon had first sent for Kairi’s aid she was initially reluctant, especially when told she would be required to perform a traditional Radiant Garden purification ceremony in order to complete the task. It was only when her companion begun to speculate that connecting with the source of her original home World’s power may help aid in their current quest that she finally agreed. At this point, after 6 months of fruitless searching, Kairi was willing to give anything a try in order to find some answers.

Returning her attention to the immediate surroundings, Kairi was initially relieved the light had now faded enough for her to see again. The horrific sight that met her eyes, however, immediately caused her blood to run cold. The unconscious bodies of her friends now lay inexplicably strewn about the underground chamber, when only moments earlier they had all been standing before her in support.

Fear grew in the pit of Kairi’s stomach when her eyes fell upon the seemingly lifeless forms of a silver haired young man and a brunette woman in a long pink dress, laying just off to her left. Her guardians, the ones who had sworn to protect her throughout the ceremony, had they failed in their duty? And was Kairi’s power the reason for their failure?

‘No, it can’t be…’ She whispered, barely able to form words. ‘This wasn’t supposed to happen.’

Kairi made to stand and make her way towards them. But subtle movements in her peripheral vision cause her to freeze. She didn’t want to look, but she knew she had to. Dreading what she what about to see Kairi remained on the ground, turning slowly to look to her right. She held her breath as she beheld the mass of pure swirling darkness that stood before her.

‘What are you? Why are you here?’ She managed to demand of it, despite her growing terror.

‘I’m here because you called.’ A distorted voice replied from within the darkness.

And with that the darkness began to condense and reform, quickly taking on what appeared to be the form of a human. Then in the blink of an eye the darkness broke away, revealing a young man with a head of spiky brown hair in its place. His eyes remained closed for a moment before he finally allowed himself to look at her and smile.

‘Kairi.’ He said warmly. ‘I’ve missed you.’

Her first instinct was to jump up and throw her arms around him, but something inside held Kairi back. The person she had been searching and longing for, for so long was finally standing before her, but she couldn’t move. This was wrong. The darkness that had apparently brought him here, the strange new black garments he now wore, and the yellow glow of his eyes. Everything was wrong.

Finding her voice at last Kairi dared to form his name, ‘So-’

‘Sora?’ Another strained voice suddenly cut her off.

The young man in question allowed himself to take his eyes off Kairi for a moment to glance in the direction of the voice, his smile begins to fade. Kairi took the opportunity to look to her left once more and was relieved to find Riku had regained consciousness. His eyes however were fixed on Sora.

‘Riku, I’m glad to see you again too.’ Sora told him with a smile. But Kairi could tell something in his voice was off. As if Sora didn’t completely mean what he was saying.

Riku groaned as he forced himself into a kneeling position. Clearly whatever had happened when Kairi touched the water with her light had caused a lot of damage.

‘What happened to you? We were told your heart had travelled to a realm beyond The Final World. How did you end up here?’ Riku asked firmly.

Sora placed his hands behind his head and chuckled as if Riku had asked the simplest question in the world. ‘That’s easy. I heard Kairi’s call and followed her voice back here. Not like I haven’t done it before.’

In an instant Kairi knew he was lying. All three of them knew he was lying. She knew Riku was going to demand the truth from him with his next breath. But with the way Sora was behaving she doubted he’d give anyone a real answer. Anyone that is, except the one person Sora had never lied to.

‘Sora,’ Kairi’s voice was firm. ‘Tell me the truth. What did you do?’

Sora sighed and allowed his shoulders to slump a little. ‘Let me guess, you want to know about this.’ He then pointed towards his now yellow eyes to which Kairi nodded in response.

‘You sure? It’s a pretty long story…’

He was stalling but Kairi wasn’t having any of it. She pushed herself up from the ground, managing to stand again despite her cumbersome dress. She looked him directly in the eye.

‘Guess it’s a good thing I’ve got nothing but time then.’

Sora was the first to look away. ‘Fine, if its what you really want.’

‘Yep.’ She replied curtly. Kairi took a moment before he started speaking to readjust her dress. But truth be told it was only a rues in order to check on her friends, whom were still scattered about the room. She wasn’t afraid of Sora, not just yet anyway. But Kairi did fear that this new, darker Sora might run or lash out if everyone in the room suddenly woke up at once. It was all so surreal.

Kairi spotted Xion and Naminé lying side by side not too far away, their hands appeared to be grasped together despite being knocked out cold. Axel and Roxas lay in front of the pair. They had evidently tried to shield the girls when Kairi’s light had suddenly exploded. Isa and Leon lay unconscious nearby, as did Donald, Goofy and the King. While on the opposite side of the room Kairi could see Terra, Aqua, Ventus and Chirthy were all huddled together, but still just as comatose as the rest.

Lastly Kairi dared to glance back ever so slightly to check on Riku. Sora had seemed so cold towards their best friend she feared he may lash out at both of them, should he see her look towards Riku so deliberately. For the most part Riku seemed to be recovering well from the blast, and was attempting to revive Aerith.

‘Do you remember what happens to you when you die?’ Sora asked.

Kairi returned her full, undivided attention to him. ‘Yes, how could I forget? You travel to The Final World until you are ready to pass into the beyond.’

‘Technically you’re correct.’ Sora replied, his face growing ashen. ‘That’s what’s supposed to happen anyway. But sometimes you don’t end up there. Sometimes you end up somewhere completely different. Like a huge city, big enough for millions of people to live…but its completely empty, and you become stuck there all alone. With nothing but your own thoughts and memories to keep you company.’

‘Is that… what happened to you?’ Kairi felt her heart ache at the thought of Sora being trapped in such a lonely, empty place. He only nodded to confirm her fear.

‘I suppose it wasn’t all that bad though. While the loneliness was excruciating, I did have a lot of time to think about everything. Figure out why things happened the way they did, and what I did wrong.’

‘What you did wrong? Sora, you didn’t do anything wrong. You saved everyone.’

Sora offered her a rueful smile in response. ‘I did. But in the end, despite all the good I’d done, I wasn’t allowed to have the one thing I wanted more than anything else. To keep my promise to you.’

The pain she felt in her heart as he spoke those words was immense. But after the first throb Kairi realized the pain suddenly felt drastically different, magnified, if that was even possible. She let out a gasp and clutched her chest as her eyes met Sora’s.

Sora tilted his head slightly to the side. ‘You felt that too, huh? Interesting.’

Kairi was unnerved by the smile that began to form on Sora’s lips. That was when she heard Riku finally stand up, his strength returned.

‘Sora, what are you doing to Kairi?’ He demanded.

‘Nothing!’ Sora retorted with a glare. ‘And even if I was doing “something” to her it wouldn’t be any of your business.’

Kairi raised an arm to silence the two bickering friends. ‘I’m ok, Riku. Really.’ She knew he didn’t believe that, but when Riku said nothing in reply she took it to mean he would let Sora continue telling his story… for now.

‘Did you figure out what it was you did that was so wrong?’ Kairi asked, despite her fear of what Sora’s answer would be.

‘Yeah I did.’ He genuinely began to smile now. ‘And what’s better, I figured out how to fix everything.’

‘So you figured out a way back home?’

‘Even better than that! I figured out a way to make sure we’ll be together forever, Kairi, no matter what!’ Sora’s smile was genuine but his eyes still looked cold. The combination of the two along with his bold statement was increasingly unnerving. ‘I just had to get rid of my light.’

Kairi’s mouth opened in utter shock, she imagined Riku’s face looked much the same. Somewhere in the back of her mind Kairi noted that some of the others in the underground chamber were now beginning to stir, but that hardly mattered anymore.

‘Get rid of your light? Sora, I don’t understand, why would you want to rid yourself of light?’

‘Balance.’ He replied. ‘Turns out Master Xehanort was on the right track. There must always be a balance between light and darkness. Where he went wrong though was deciding that balance could only be obtained through destruction. Unfortunately for him the light and the dark a far more complex than that.’

‘But what does a balance between light and dark have to do with you and me, Sora?’

He smiled a little more sadly now. ‘It has everything to do with us, right from the moment we first met on the islands.’ Sora moved towards her, close enough that Kairi had to tilt her head slightly upwards to meet his gaze. Sora had grown taller during his absence.

‘Its your heart, Kairi. I can’t believe it took me so long to realize.’ Her hand moved instinctively to her chest. ‘Your heart is made of pure light, no darkness can ever reside within you. Your heart possesses such an incredible amount of light, it only makes sense you have no true need for the light of others. You can walk through corridors darkness and it would never touch you.’

‘Sora, I don’t understand what your trying to say.’ She was pleading with him now, desperate to understand just how things had gone so wrong.

‘From the moment we met your heart has always called to mine, and mine to you.’ Beginning to feel confidant, Sora dared to raise his hand so he could lightly play with a loose strand of her hair. She decided to allow him to, for now. ‘I’ll never understand why a heart as pure as yours chose an idiot like me, but I’m happy you did. For the longest time I believed we’d always be together, until suddenly we weren’t. And no matter how hard I tried each time I found you, we’d always be ripped apart again. I realized then that all the worlds were doing whatever they could to keep us apart, because so long as my heart possessed light we could never truly be together. Only a heart of pure darkness can exist in perfect balance with your light. That’s why I did this, Kairi, so we can finally be together like we promised.’

‘That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth! And quite frankly that’s saying a lot!’

Kairi jumped and the sudden shout, and looked to see an utterly furious Riku glaring at Sora. ‘If any of that was even remotely true then how come all the other Princess’ of Heart are all allowed to live happily with their respective Princes? Last time I checked they all had both light and darkness in their hearts.’

Sora only smirked at his best friend’s retort. ‘That’s true I won’t deny it. But your forgetting there’s a big difference between them and Kairi and I. You know, that little thing we call a Keyblade?’ He then proceeded to summon his Kingdom Key as a final attempt to hammer his new ideology home to Riku.

‘Keyblades were created to serve the worlds, to maintain the balance between light and dark. As wielders it is up to us to maintain that balance. During my time alone I finally realized that our duty isn’t only limited to battle, it extends into every aspect of our lives. As a wielder it only makes sense that the light of Kairi’s heart must be balanced with a heart of equal darkness. Kairi has always been my light and now I am her darkness, just as we were always meant to be.’

Kairi could feel her heart breaking with each passing second. ‘So that’s how you found your way back. You gave into the darkness.’

Sora sighed at her words. ‘I didn’t give into anything. I simply accepted the reality before me. At the end of the day I will always make the same choice. I’ll always choose you. As for how I found my way back…I did use the darkness to begin with, but it only got me halfway. Your light opened the final path for me.’

For a moment Kairi was confused before her eyes widened in utter shock, she looked down at the water source she had touched with her light. ‘The water purification ceremony, the darkness in Radiant Gardens’ water supply…that was you?’

Sora grinned. ‘Remember in school when we were taught natural water is an excellent conductor for electricity? Turns out its also an excellent conductor of light and darkness too. Though I had no idea the reaction of your light and my darkness coming in contact through the water would be so…explosive. Your actually ridiculously powerful Kairi, you do realize that don’t you?’

Kairi was still in shock trying to comprehend what he was implying. ‘Sora I…that explosion of light…we hurt everyone here. We hurt our friends!’

For the first time Sora looked taken aback by her words. ‘No we didn’t…I mean we did, but I didn’t mean for that to happen! Look I didn’t know it would cause your light to explode like that. I just…I wanted to be by your side again so bad I didn’t care about the risks.’

Kairi wanted to scream at him for his recklessness, but the look of regret on his face made her pause. He almost looked like the Sora she remembered, finally showing genuine concern for their injured friends.

‘Everything is going to ok Kairi, I promise. But there’s something you and I need to do first.’

Sora’s face had suddenly turned darkly determined once more as he made to embrace her. He was stopped in his actions, however, as a blur of black and white made to attack him with a Keyblade from behind. But he was too quick, Sora had sensed her coming. He turned and successfully blocked her attack with ease. The initial frown on his face grew into a bemused smile as he learnt the identity of his attacker.

‘I can feel how upset you are with me, Xion, but now really isn’t a good time.’ Sora calmly told the dark haired wielder as she continued to stubbornly pressure her Kingdom Key against his own. ‘We can do this some other time. Right now Mum and Dad need to have a little talk, ok?’

Xion suddenly blanked at his overly casual and strangely accepting reference to her true origin. The pause was enough to give Sora the opening he needed, managing to push her off hard enough to send her stumbling backwards. Thankfully Naminé was able to catch Xion before she fell to the ground and held her tightly. A now conscious Roxas and Axel quickly joined the pair to comfort Xion.

‘Now then…’ Sora mused, returning his attention back to Kairi.

‘Sora, don’t you dare make another move!’ It was now Riku’s turn to somehow intervene. But while his Keyblade was summoned he still had yet to move from his position beside the still unconscious Aerith.

Kairi knew he wanted to protect her, but she could also tell that he feared what Sora might do in response. She understood then that there was only one thing she could do. And as scary as the possibilities may be, Kairi had to admit she wanted to know the true extent of Sora’s plan. She turned away from Sora so she could speak with her best friend.

‘It’ll be ok, Riku.’ She told him through a pained smile. ‘We both know Sora would never hurt me.’

She saw a look of defeat cross his face as Riku lowered his blade. Moments later she heard Sora move towards her. She closed her eyes as his arms held her tightly.

‘The true path for restoring balance to the worlds begins here, with you and me.’ He whispered so only she could hear. ‘I just need you to trust me.’

‘I trust you.’ Kairi replied. As the words left her lips her heart suddenly pounded out of control as her light became enveloped in darkness, Sora’s darkness. But it wasn’t overwhelming her; in fact it was quite the opposite. Kairi could feel her light resonating with his darkness. She kept her eyes firmly closed.

‘You feel it, don’t you?’ Came Sora’s voice, gentle and encouraging. She realized with a start that he hadn’t spoken out aloud, his voice was inside her head.

‘How are you doing that?’ Kairi asked in bewilderment.

‘Our hearts are resonating. The balance of light and dark means we can share a new bond, just the two of us. From now on we’ll be able to sense were the other is, no matter how far apart we may be. If we want to we can even share feelings and emotions.’

‘“No matter how far apart we may be.” You say that as if you’re going to leave again. Sora, if you were planning to disappear and leave me all over again then what was the point of turning to the darkness or coming back to the realm of light at all? Was this all some elaborate lie?’

‘No, it's not a lie.’ Sora defended.

‘But it is a lie. You’ve been lying this whole time. When you saved me from The Final World you promised that, even if you faded away, you would always be my light. Sora…’

Kairi opened her eyes and turned to look at him properly. She held his face so he couldn’t look away from her. ‘Why did you break your promise to me?’

Sora’s mouth opened and closed a number of times but nothing came out. Fear, hurt and regret flashed across his face before he finally found his words again. ‘Kairi, I did what I had to do.’

Kairi wanted to scream and cry all at once, but her heart ached too much for her to do either. And judging by the pained look on Sora’s face he was clearly feeling her pain as well. She guessed the whole sharing emotions thing really was true. Before anything else could be said a new voice spoke.

‘Sora? Is that you?’ came the voice of the King.

They both looked to see King Mickey, Donald, Goofy and the rest of their friends had finally awakened.

‘Sora?’ Donald and Goofy both spoke in a mixture of apprehension and disbelief.

Kairi felt fear but it wasn’t her own. She looked at Sora, his face pale and yellow eyes glowing.

‘I have to go.’ He told her, refusing to meet her eye. A dark portal opened up beside him and he made to walk through it.

He was only stopped by Kairi grabbing his hand and refusing to let go. ‘Please don’t go!’ She begged.

Sora looked back at her once more with a pained smile. ‘This isn’t the end, it’s a new beginning.’ He told her before freeing his hand from her grasp. And without another word he passed through the dark corridor and vanished.

As the last wisps of darkness faded away Kairi fell to the ground and burst into tears. Riku, Aerith and Aqua rushed forward and embraced the poor girl. It felt like forever before Kairi was finally calm enough to speak. Seeking Riku’s embrace, she told him Sora’s final lie.

‘His heart isn’t pure darkness. I felt it, his light is still there. It’s locked away, sleeping deep inside his heart. We just have to convince him to come back to us and let it free.’

[hphm-etched-engraved-everlasting]

1. Clara

Author’s Note/Table of Contents

For the first time since I was a first year, I felt scared stepping into Hogwarts.

September 1 should have been a day for every student to look forward to. After all, the prospect of learning more magic and catching up with friends in a hallowed castle that lived up to its reputation was exciting for any normal student. But I was not like most others; I was not a normal student at all. I was anything but normal, and it was no thanks to her.

As my sister and I disembarked from the Hogwarts Express together, both of us in our Hogwarts robes, I couldn't help but feel a little lightheaded to see the number of students chatting excitedly among themselves. It was almost as if none of the curses they've encountered had affected them in any way. I suppose that was understandable, since they all knew that eventually the curse-breakers would do something about the travesties that befell upon them. Still, they had no idea just what every hero had to endure. I didn't even feel heroic just by breaking curses so that Hogwarts could resume its normalcy.

At least it still seemed normal enough for my sister to be able to attend school at peace and ease.

"Firs' years! Firs' years this way!"

My ears perked up the minute I heard Hagrid's voice beckoning all the newcomers to the school towards the boats, and I grinned as I lead my sister along. She looked a little intimidated at the thought of leaving my side, even briefly, but she nodded bravely as she went with me to meet with my giant friend.

"Clara! Yeh doin' alrigh'?" he asked me the moment I approached him.

"Yeah. As well as I can be," I answered him with a forced smile. "This is my sister, by the way. Her name's Emily, but most people call her Em."

Hagrid nodded and beamed at her. "Well, when yeh got a sister like her, yeh'll do great things here!" he reassured her with a clap on the shoulder that almost knocked her over. "I'll take yeh to the boats, alrigh'? Yeh can meet the other firs' years there, an’ I'll take yeh to Hogwarts. Yeh'll see yer sister in the Great Hall."

Little Em nodded, but not before giving me a hug. "Take care, Clara."

"See you inside, Em."

As Hagrid ushered little Em away, I followed the rest of the crowd towards the carriages pulled by invisible beings. Or at least, at the time I thought they were invisible. What was pulling the carriages, anyway? It had to be something mysterious. I shook my head as I got into the first carriage I saw that wasn't completely occupied--and a moment later, a familiar magizoologist-in-the-making climbed in after me.

"Liz!" I greeted her with a grin. "Hey!"

Liz turned to me and smiled back serenely. "Hey, Clara. Thanks for your letters--they're a joy to read."

"Indeed! It's always a joy for me to keep regular correspondence with my friends. I'm just glad you had a good summer, Liz," I responded with a nod.

"Regular correspondence, huh? What about with me?" an all-too-familiar voice piped up, a huge grin on his face as he took a seat beside me.

"I wouldn't forget about you, Barnaby." I grinned back at him and kissed him on the cheek. "Not after our first date. I guess we have been writing...quite often."

Eventually, another familiar student made an appearance--Jae.

"Hey, detention buddy," he greeted me with a nod as well, taking a seat beside Liz. "Or should I say, no-longer-in-detention buddy?"

"Jae. Fancy seeing you here," I said, trying hard to keep a straight face, though I couldn't help but smile. Jae was very good company when I was spending quite a bit of my fifth year at Hogwarts in detention, working in the kitchens alongside the house elves. He was just as involved in the curse-breaking plan as I was back then.

"Likewise. I suppose you got it better than I, though. Pitts would be very happy to see me," Jae simply said with a grin.

"Oh, I doubt it. Unless you can make better sandwiches for us," I teased back with a laugh. "At least then Pitts would give you a good raise."

The four of us laughed a little, Barnaby's hand gently brushing mine as the carriage lurched forward and took us to the school. There was little I could do to stop the rush of heat blossoming in my face as I remembered our first date together. Though word about me having a crush made me feel so self-conscious, I decided to rub it in everyone's faces--even if things didn't exactly go as planned. And to think that he felt the same about me...well, if that wasn't a good start to our once-upon-a-time, what was?

Soon, we were greeted by the massive castle looming over us, the glow of the torch lights from within visible through their postage stamp windows. Most others would probably murmur in excitement or awe, but I felt none of those things within me. Instead, a lump of fear formed at my throat, nausea rising within me like hot lava prepared to spew out of a volcano. For so long, I was able to push the feeling of unease down because none of my questions had been answered. I had the curiosity hanging, but they were easily masked. Now that my curiosity has been satisfied, they left me with sleepless nights, tired eyes, and no way to hide my true emotions. I just didn't expect my questions to be answered that way.

I'd prefer remaining curious instead of knowing what it meant to live a nightmare.

Everyone eventually headed into the Great Hall, Barnaby's hand eventually brushing mine again but this time holding on to it, his calloused tough hand warm against my suddenly ice-cold one. It was all I could do to not slip away as I squeezed it once, interlocking my fingers with his under hopefully no watchful eye. No, wait, there was one. Percy Weasley walked by and noticed the two of us holding hands, giving no reaction whatsoever.

We all eventually parted ways, heading towards our respective house tables. As I started to make my way to the Gryffindor table, eager to meet up with Rowan, my eyes soon honed in on Tonks and Charlie waving me over at the front. I quickly joined them with a wave of my own, and Tonks did a little victory fist pump.

"Wotcher, Clara!" she greeted me. "Blimey, am I glad to see you!"

Charlie beamed at me as well. "Me too. Especially after how you 'disappeared' from Bill's party before graduation!"

"We didn't have a chance to ask you about it before everyone left for the summer holidays," Tonks piped in.

I chuckled and smiled at the two of them. "I'm very glad to see you both, too. But I can't tell you anything about my disappearance. I've been sworn to secrecy."

The same words I told Rowan last year before the summer holidays left my lips almost automatically. If this information was passed to the wrong hands, I would never forgive myself. Not that they would, given how much I trust my friends above anything. But I still had to watch my back for potential backstabbers. I just hoped there wasn't another Rakepick in the mix of all the kind faces.

"You do know who that was who crashed the party, though? Alastor Moody?" Tonks prompted.

"Mad-Eye, some people call him. At least, that's what my dad says," Charlie said, and I shrugged.

"He was a hero of the Wizarding War!" Tonks regaled. "He was responsible for sending countless Death Eaters to Azkaban. He's rather a big deal, Clara."

Sounds just like the Auror Tonks would be looking up to. After all, she did want to become an Auror herself when she grew up, and I knew she'd be a great one. "I know that now. I see you're a huge fan of his, Tonks," I laughed.

"Hey! Anyone who's ever thought of becoming an Auror would be a fan of Mad-Eye Moody!" Tonks exclaimed with a huge grin on her face.

Just then, Rowan came over, waving to the few of us as well. "Hi! How were everyone's summer holidays?"

I had never been more relieved to see Rowan. She's been with me since the very beginning, before I stepped foot in Hogwarts. Now I was more than honoured to call her my closest friend at school. After all, she helped me pull through with my studies while I was otherwise breaking curses at the school.

"Not bad, actually. I spent my summer doing a lot of reading about--"

"Ooh, me too!" Rowan exclaimed, cutting Charlie off. I almost laughed; reading was one thing Rowan loved to do back home on her family tree farm.

"I was going to say I read a lot about the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary," Charlie recovered slowly.

Now the grin slipped off from Rowan's face. "Oh. I...read about other stuff."

"I'm just happy to be back at Hogwarts with minimal bumps and bruises," Tonks chipped in with a light shrug.

"Bumps and bruises?" I asked. "What were you up to, Tonks?"

"Nothing exciting. But you know me. I get banged up just dismounting my broom," Tonks responded.

That was pretty fair. Clumsiness was one of Tonks' weaknesses, and I hoped it wouldn't completely hinder her chances at becoming an Auror.

"What about you, Clara?" Rowan asked, turning to me. "I mean, I got your letters. You did have a rough end of the school year, too. What was on your mind?"

While Rowan and I did have regular correspondence over the summer along with the rest of my friends, I could only tell her everything happening to me on the surface. I was scared of information falling into the wrong hands--especially after what Mad-Eye Moody told me last year that made me worried out of my mind. Still, she did ask me a fair question. My mind wandered to my sister, who I know would be standing outside the Great Hall right now while Professor McGonagall attended to other matters before the Sorting.

Little Em, who I held so dear with my life--just as much as I did my friends and family. Perhaps she and I weren't as close as Jacob and I, but she was a part of my family, after all. I felt obligated to keep her safe from all the dangers around us--especially her.

Her. She was all I could think of over the summer. How she lead me on, made me trust her before betraying me by saying she betrayed my brother first. Using me for her gain was just...low. And using my friends like petty useless trinkets--I couldn't fathom the limits anger could reach.

"I thought mostly of Rakepick," I confessed.

The mere mention of her name made the atmosphere more tense.

"I couldn't stop thinking about what she did, not just to me, but my brother before me, and now my friends," I said in a quiet voice, so that no one but the three heard me. "How she lead us all on, convincing us that she was helping us when she only wanted us for her operation. To spy on us for our adversaries. And now that we're back, I can't help but think about what she'll do next, and what I could do to stop her. After all, we are one Cursed Vault away from ultimate peace at Hogwarts. Whatever's in the last Vault must be powerful, and it cannot fall into the wrong hands."

Rowan's jaw became very set the moment she heard this. "Indeed. Rakepick's hands would definitely be the wrong hands. So what would you do about this? After all, you did mention that everything will change--not to mention, you were so busy curse breaking last year, we didn't have much of a chance to bond."

"I guess time will tell."

I couldn't say more.

Next moment, the first years were filing in, Professor McGonagall leading the way as she carried the Sorting Hat and stool to the front, and I caught a glimpse of my sister mixed with the rest as I took my seat beside Rowan at the Gryffindor table. Little Em didn't look so little among the first years, but she was still little to me, and probably most vulnerable if Rakepick somehow knew about her.

If something happened to her, I would never forgive myself.

I clenched my fist under the table as I watched the Sorting unfold, hoping and praying that whatever house little Em gets Sorted into, she would be safe and protected.

[name-me-regret]

If The World Was Ending 8/?

If The World Was Ending Chapter Eight: Til The Morning

Read on AO3.

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

“Take me home, take me home I'll be yours till the morning Then leave without warning So take me home

Call me please, call me please Oh I can't wait forever You know better So call me please

Leave me be, leave me be You had your chance already Someone else, I go steady So leave me be…”

~Til The Morning - Bahamas

- ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

Tony groaned as his eyes opened, frowning as he tried to remember when he’d gone to sleep. The last thing he recalled was frantically looking—

He shot up in the bed he was laying in as he suddenly remembered Evan, looking around frenetically for the man. The room was dark but sunlight was starting to come in through the partially closed curtains. Where the hell was he anyways?

The billionaire decided that was something for later as he swung his legs out of the bed, fumbling with the lamp on the nightstand next to the bed he was in. When the semi-dark room was bathed in light, he was met with the room that could only belong to a teenage boy. Well, what he imagined it would look like for a normal teenage boy, since his room had looked nothing like this. Then again, he hadn’t exactly been normal. Besides, by the time he was fifteen, he was living in the MIT dorms with Rhodey as his roommate.

He quickly spotted his phone on the same nightstand as the lamp, as well as his Bluetooth. Tony quickly shoved it into his ear. “JARVIS, you up?” He wasn’t sure if it still had any battery, since it had been a terribly long day yesterday. At least, he hoped it was yesterday, since there was no telling how long he’d been out.

‘For you, sir, always,’ the AI’s familiar voice spoke in his ear.

He sighed as some of his panic subsided, but there was still the matter of Evan’s whereabouts. He’d be worried about Maddie, but she’d been perfectly unharmed, and wondered if she’d been at a hospital away from the affected zone. Tony was ashamed to admit that he’d never thought to ask Evan about what she was doing, he’d just sensed that it was something Evan had been hesitant to mention. Although he knew why she was in L.A. without Doug, whom was dead.

“How long have I been out, J? Where’s the suit, and where the hell am I?” he stood and stretched, feeling sort of rested, but not much. Well, he was use to it, since even after the Mandarin incident, he didn’t sleep too well. Even if he’d told Pepper that he would do better, that didn’t stop the nightmares, the panic attacks, and he knew it was PTSD. After all, if it walked like a duck and all that, well...

He’d just never been one to do the normal thing when one had trauma, which was go to therapy. Tony could just see his business slashed all over the newspapers. It had always been like that, even as a kid and now being Iron Man, it was ten times worse. At times he wished he’d just done what Colson (and Fury) had wanted and kept his identity as Iron Man a secret, since things would have been so much easier. Then he’d thought of the destruction that had happened, the fighter jet he’d destroyed, the vehicles that had been damaged in his fight with Iron Monger, and knew he couldn’t hide. He had to take responsibility, be held accountable for his actions; both in and out of the suit.

‘It is currently 5:25am Pacific Time, and you’ve been asleep for three hours, sir. The Mark 33 is stationed in the backyard in sentry mode and every other suit besides Peacekeeper which is still helping the police, have been charged and helping rescue workers mostly recover the dead at this point. Also, you are located in Robert Grant Nash’s residence.’

Tony paused as he was looking for his shoes, stopping as he’d bent down to search under the bed. “I’m at Cap’s house?” he asked incredulously. He bet there was a story there, but he had more pressing matters. “J, where’s Evan?”

‘Mr. Buckley is asleep at this very moment in the room next to this one.’

Tony forwent looking for his shoes and padded out of the room in his socks and headed into the room next to the one he’d woken up in. If he was at Bobby’s house, that meant the beds belonged to his kids. He hoped he hadn’t taken anyone’s bed from them.

For now he walked to the door next to the one he was in, knocking lightly in case Evan was asleep. When there was no response, he cracked open the door and peeked inside. He knew it was a huge invasion of privacy, but he just wanted to see that Evan was there and unharmed and then he would go. Whether that was back to the room he’d woken up in or not, well, he hadn’t decided yet.

He saw the man’s 6’2 frame on a bed and what he could see of the sheets and the rest of it room, this was a teenaged girl’s bedroom. From here he could tell he was sleeping peacefully and he sighed in relief. He knew about nightmares after a traumatic experience and it was good that Evan didn’t appear to be having any.

Tony quietly closed the door and moved away from the room, and finally decided that he wanted some coffee. He realized that this was because he could smell it, and it was gourmet too. Oh, someone in this house knew what good coffee was and wasn’t afraid to spend the money for it. Apparently some people were satisfied with that cheap instant kind, the uncultured fools.

He hoped he didn’t look too ragged or smell rank after spending the all yesterday and last night in the same clothes. Tony told JARVIS to order him some simple clothes to be delivered to Bobby’s residence. His AI told him that it, as well as some toiletries would be delivered within the hour. Hopefully he’d be able to get a cup or two of that coffee and perhaps beg off their hospitality for a piece of toast and some eggs.

Tony came into the kitchen to find Bobby Nash leaning against the counter, looking exhausted in his grubby LAFD uniform. There was a cup of coffee in his hand and his eyes were closed, and Tony wondered if he’d fallen asleep like that. Poor guy was likely ready to collapse, especially if he’d just gotten in.

“As much as I hate to wake you up, because you look bone weary, but I refuse to let you waste good coffee,” he told him, since the cup looked moments away from slipping out of his hand.

Bobby jerked awake as his fingers tightened on the coffee cup, and it was either not too full or already halfway drunk, but none of it thankfully sloshed over the side to spill on the man’s hand. “Tony,” the man greeted, but was interrupted by a face cracking yawn before he could say more.

“You look how I feel most mornings after a forty-eight hour binge in the lab working on a deadline for SI,” he chuckled. The man sighed as he ran a hand through his short hair, and was, as always, reminded a little bit of Howard. This man exuded the sternness the man had possessed, but none of the coldness. There was a softness that tempered the steel underneath, and Tony found himself liking Bobby more and more.

“You shouldn’t be awake,” he told Tony. He waved him on when he asked if he could have a cup of coffee. “It’s only been three hours since you collapsed.” He could feel the man’s eyes on him as he found a cup with his instructions and then poured himself some much needed coffee.

“Yeah, well, one learns to live on little to no sleep when we’re in this line of work,” he said, taking a large gulp of the coffee and not caring as it burned his tongue. That was definitely some great coffee. “What about you? You look like something the cat dragged in, chewed up, threw up, and then chewed up again.”

Bobby chuckled as he nodded. “I feel like it too,” he admitted. He took a sip of his now lukewarm coffee, and Tony wondered how long he’d been leaning against that counter, battling his eyelids that kept trying to close.

“Well, is there any particular reason you’re not heading up for a shower and some much deserved rest?” He lifted the cup and took a more measured sip. “Or is it the unexpected guests in your home that’s preventing you from getting some rest?”

He knew some people would likely not feel comfortable sleeping while there was a stranger in their house. Tony would happily leave if that was the case, with no hard feelings. Bobby Nash was a man Tony could learn to respect, did respect after seeing him in action last night, so wouldn’t hold it against him if Tony was making him uncomfortable. The man had likely not intended for some strange billionaire to take up one of his kid’s beds.

Bobby blinked at him confused for a moment until his sluggish brain caught on to what he was saying. “No, that’s not it,” he said firmly. “I offered my home in the first place, and it would be pretty hypocritical to then have a problem with it.” He paused to yawn once again. “I’m actually waiting for my wife to get off her shift before turning in,” he admitted. “I told her that you were sleeping in Harry’s bed, but I’m not sure she quite believed me. So, I’m glad you’re up and she can see you with her own eyes.”

“Or, we can take a selfie together and send it to her?” Tony said with a mischievous grin.

Bobby straighten and stretched with a groan as he checked his watch. “No, she should be home in the next few minutes,” he said. As he grabbed his phone, it gave a tweet and Tony gave it a curious look.

“Is that her?” he asked, hoping he wasn’t being nosy.

“No... it’s... a reminder,” he mumbled. “But I don’t know if I’ll still be expected to go. The hospital was in the flooding zone.”

“The hospital? Are you sick or something, Cap?” The thought of a man like Bobby Nash could be sick, who risked his life every day for the people of this city didn’t sit well with him. He quickly typed out a message to JARVIS to make a new fund for service women and men that were battling cancer, as well as other physical and mental illnesses.

“Oh no, I uh,” he paused and looked down like he was embarrassed by something. “I donate blood once every three weeks. I’m, um, part of the rare donors program.”

Tony blinked in surprise, since he was expecting anything except that. “Oh yeah? Like, you’re O negative or something?”

Bobby shook his head from side to side. “Uh no, rare type of blood that has the ability to cure rhesus disease, actually,” he murmured.

Tony had a few doctorates but none of them were in medicine. “That doesn’t sound pleasant.”

The older man shook his head. “It isn’t. I read up on it and... it’s, well, not many fetuses that are affected survive.”

Tony leaned against the counter with his cup in hand with a bit of a crooked smile. “So, your blood has the ability to save babies? And you’re a firefighter?” He shook his head and drank the rest of his coffee and reached for the pot again. “You’re full of surprises, Cap.”

“If you say so,” he told him, grunting in affirmative when Tony offered to top off his cup once again. “But I’m not sure if I’ll be able to go with the hospital being in the flood zone, and after the shift I’ve had, I’m likely to sleep for a whole day I think.”

“Well, if there’s anything I can help you with, let me know. It’s the least I can do for the hospitality you’ve shown me.”

They drank their coffees in a comfortable silence, and maybe Tony was too tired to ramble as he usually did. It could be that he just felt at ease in the man’s presence, which would be something unheard of for him when it came to someone he’d just met the other day.

“I meant to ask,” Tony said, remembering one of their meetings. “Did you ever find that Captain... Cooper?” He hoped he got the name right, since last night had been one long hour after another for him to be able to remember everyone’s names.

Bobby sighed and once more ran a hand through his short hair and Tony feared the worst, regretting having brought it up. “Yeah, they found him,” he said, voice sounding weary. “He was brought in before either of us got there... minus one of his arms, unfortunately.”

Tony grimaced and looked down at his coffee, wishing he had his sunglasses with him. One of the reasons he always wore them was that he’d been told that his eyes were very expressive. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He paused as he remembered the female firefighter that had been rescuing people at the Ferris wheel. “The woman that was with you at the peer where we first met, she’s from his firehouse, isn’t she?”

He couldn’t remember the station number at the moment, but he did remember that it had been a different one from the ones Bobby and Diaz had. Bobby nodded. “Lena Bosko, a firefighter of station 136.” His lips lifted a bit in slight amusement. “A stubborn but very capable firefighter.”

The shorter man’s eyebrow lifted in question. “I could tell she was pretty capable from the little I saw her work, but why stubborn?”

“She had two broken ribs, and still wanted to keep on going.”

Tony was quiet for a moment, continuing to enjoy the coffee. “Yeah, I know about continuing on with broken ribs... it’s not an experience I hope to repeat.”

There was what he could be shock, or maybe horror, on his face and he opened his mouth to say something. However, before Bobby could respond, they heard the door open and then footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Bobby?” Tony heard a woman’s voice. “What’s this about Tony Stark sleeping in Harry’s bed?” He heard the amusement in her voice, but then saw that same amusement fade from her face as she came around the corner and caught sight of Tony, who gave her a cheeky little wave with his fingers.

“Good morning,” he said cheerfully. “Sadly, that is true. I’m the terrible person that took poor Harry’s bed.” He took another sip of the coffee, resisting the urge to moan, since it wouldn’t be proper. It was just that he loved good coffee. “You already know who I am, but I don’t know your name.”

“Ah... Athena Grant,” she said, and saw as she and Bobby shared a look. “Well, Nash now.” Tony sensed there was a story there, but knew it wasn’t one he was entitled to, so he didn’t ask.

“Well, I am very charmed to meet you, Mrs. Nash,” he said.

“Please, call me Athena.”

“If you call me Tony.”

Bobby looked between them. “Should I be worried? I remember Buck saying you flirt with anyone.”

Tony nodded with a bit of a smile curving his lips. “Well, Evan is right,” he supplied easily. “I see attractive people and I just... flirt.” He looked like he wanted to shrug, aborted the movement half way and cleared his throat. “I can admit it’s gotten me into a fair share of... altercations.”

“How is their 80-year-old grandmother attractive to you?”

Tony snorted a laugh, having forgotten that Evan had brought it up... or had that been Maddie? He was a bit fussy about what had happened after he arrived at the field hospital and assured himself of Evan’s safety. “Their grandmother was a nurse during World War 2 and knew my dad. He was like eighteen at the time, and it was nice to hear about him being that young.” He refrained from saying that he wanted to hear about a time when he wasn’t such a cold human being. The stern, unforgiving man he’d grown up with.

His head titled as he looked at the woman. “You’re a police sergeant, right?” he asked the dark skinned woman. The short hair style she had suited her face very well.

The woman eyed him carefully, her stance changing to wariness. “Has my husband been talking about me?” she asked him instead of likely demanding how he knew that.

Tony shook his head negatively. “Uh no, Evan told me, actually. He mentioned you during the incident where Maddie was... kidnapped by that abusive asshole. He actually called me just before he went off in search of her with you and kept me updated through text messages.”

“So that’s who that boy kept texting during that time. I’d always assumed it was Eddie,” she chuckled.

Tony gave that aborted shrug with his shoulders as he lifted his cup to his mouth. “Well, he could have been texting us both,” he suggested, not voicing how much that thought bothered him. Tony didn’t have the right to be bothered, since what he and Evan had at one point was over. Besides, at the time of this, he’d been dating Pepper, so he had no right to feel... well, whatever he was feeling, it certainly wasn’t jealousy.

Not at all.-