#Like I said; I hope that Part 5 will be final part of Chapter 14 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fiveisnumber1 · 1 month ago

Text

Timeless - Five Hargreeves X Reader

Main story parts:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38

A/N: Sorry, this took a bit. I was actually pretty close to finishing it before season 4 came out. Then I watched season 4 and fell into a rut for a bit because it was so disappointing and upsetting. Anyway, I finally got my energy to write back and have finally managed to finish it! Also, the title of this chapter is inspired by the song I'm Just Sayin' by Weathers so for any who are interested I'd recommend to go take a listen to it! Alright, thanks! Enjoy!

_____________________________________________________________

Pt 39 - Hate And Love Are Starting To Taste The Same

From where he stood, Five watched as you got into what he could only assume was Dean's car and drove off. Staying in place for a moment, he looked at the number you had written on his arm. Using a finger he traced over the little heart you had drawn. It was a nice detail. Even in one of your worst moments you still took the time to show him you loved him. Although, the more he looked at it, the more he wanted to rush to a phone and call you already. It wasn't an emergency in the normal sense, but he still needed you. He knew he couldn't call though. You needed your space, and he had to trust you'd come back when you were ready to. Seeing as you probably weren't coming back for a bit, Five pulled down his sleeve, turned away from the doors, and walked back to his siblings at the bar. The silence was awkward as he approached, but it didn't last as Diego snapped,

"You just let her go!?"

"I had no choice." Five responded flatly "Even if I held on she could've just used her powers to leave."

"And what if she gets hurt?" Diego interrogated

"I don't know..." Five answered honestly "I just have to hope that she doesn't."

"But you're her boyfriend!" Diego retorted "It's your job to keep an eye on her."

Hearing that comment, Five side-eyed Diego. It's not like he wanted to let you go. Like he had said, he had no choice in the matter. And Diego sure was one to talk. For so long he touted himself as this amazing older brother, this superior protector who was far better at keeping you safe than Five was, and yet these past few days he had done anything but protect you. You grieved your dead parents and he didn't pay attention. You got torn by a kugelwave and instead of helping you, he turned his attention to Stan. You left the hotel and he had no clue where you went. You cried over the fact that your friends got blitzed and instead of comforting you, he comforted Stan who was scared of your residual power. And yet even with all the evidence, Diego still had the audacity to blame Five for your lack of physical and mental safety. Even when he was doing everything he could to ensure the opposite. Maybe instead of blaming him, Diego should take a long look in the mirror given that you had still expressed your love for Five, but had just fully rejected Diego.

"First of all, that was also supposed to be your job, but as we can all see, you failed at that." Five reminded "Secondly, I wouldn't be a very good boyfriend if I forced her to do something she didn't want to do. She respects and trusts my decisions even when she disagrees. It's only right that I do the same for her."

Diego opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but what could he say? Five was right. In some way or another, he had failed you and now you wanted nothing to do with him. Diego closed his mouth knowing he had nothing to reply and instead looked at the knives you had tossed on the ground. Letting out a sigh, Diego slowly bent down to pick them up. One by one he placed them in empty slots in his knife holster and when he ran out of space he carefully pocketed the rest. Standing back up, Diego gave Five a mournful look before returning to his spot by the bar. Taking a seat at one of the stools, he took a long drink from his glass. Stan looked at Diego, not out of any concern, but because of all the shiny knives that were now on his person. Looking at Diego excitedly, Stan asked,

"Can I have them?"

"No." Diego snapped

Diego could see the startled expression on Stan's face. He didn't mean to do that, Stan had already been through enough today. Letting out another sigh, Diego placed his glass down and looked directly at Stan.

"I'm sorry..." Diego apologized before sadly adding "But no, you can't have them."

"But she said-" Stan began to protest

"They're not yours, Stan. They belong to (Y/N)." Lila sternly enforced "You can't have them."

Letting out an annoyed huff, Stan walked away from the pair and sat down at a nearby table, slumping low in his seat to show his disdain. However, neither Diego nor Lila paid it much attention. Sitting in the seat next to Diego, Lila put a supportive hand on his shoulder. Putting his glass down, Diego's eyes met Lila's and in them she could see so much sorrow. His fire was dimmed and it broke her heart to think that she had maybe been the cause of this. She loved him. Diego didn't know Stan wasn't actually his. It was just supposed to be an experiment to see if he'd be a good dad. She was never trying to push you two apart. She didn't even think it was possible. She couldn't stand to see Diego so broken. If she could, she was going to try and fix this, for the both of you.

"She'll come back around." Lila comforted

"I hope so..." Diego lamented

"She will." Lila reassured, "I promise."

As Lila attempted to comfort Diego, Five had walked back behind the bar again. Pouring himself a new glass of whiskey, since Klaus had stolen his first, Five took a drink from the glass before looking at his siblings again. There was an awkward silence as everyone looked around, but it was soon broken as Luther questioned,

"So that thing? It was?"

"A Kugelwave." Five responded despondently "And It's getting worse."

"And all those kids they're...?" Viktor trailed off, the concern evident in his tone

Five grimaced. Those 'kids' weren't just anyone, they were your friends, and if things had worked out they could've been his friends. Hell, with the way they treated him maybe they already were, and now he was down six friends too.

"They're gone." Five answered "And we can only hope that their souls are in a better place."

Hearing Five's response, the wheels in Luther's head finally started to turn. With all the chaos that had ensued from the wave, his thoughts had whipped back and forth trying to figure out what to think and do. But with things settled down, he finally realized that Lucas was gone. But not just gone, he was gone gone.

"Oh no, that thing took my son!" Luther exclaimed, "What am I going to tell Sloane!"

"What's there to tell?" Allison snidely remarked, "You're not his real parents."

Luther glared at Allison, disgusted by her comment. Lucas may not have been his son for long, but he was still his son. Sure, it was a surprise to him, and sure it took your convincing to agree, but Lucas was a good kid. And in those few minutes they were together Luther felt like he had done a better job as a father to Lucas than Reginald had ever done for Luther. He honestly wished he had gotten to know his son better and introduced him to his mother. Who knows, maybe the three of them could've been happy together. And anyway, just because Lucas was late-term adopted didn't make him his son any less. Diego had a surprise son and Allison wasn't doubting his legitimacy. And on top of it, Luther and the rest of his siblings were all adopted too so what kind of authority did Allison think she had on what counted as legitimate parenthood?

"Yes, we are!" Luther replied defensively "Don't talk about my son like that."

Seeing the budding argument between Luther and Allison, and wanting to avoid the topic of parenthood for Diego's sake, Lila interjected,

"Five, how long do we have?"

Luther and Allison side-eyed each other but quickly turned their attention to Five. Finding out how much time they had left was only marginally more important than the argument they were heading toward. Although the resentment was still evident.

"At this rate of escalation, if you factor in-" Five began to explain

"How long, Five?" Allison pressed, cutting him off

So much for Five letting them down gently. After all that happened, he wanted to at least be neutral about their possibly imminent demise, but if bluntness was what they wanted, bluntness was what they would get.

"Four, maybe five days before the rest of existence is blitzed." Five answered

His bluntness had the exact reaction that he was expecting as all of his siblings and Lila let out heavy sighs and stared off into space. He watched as Allison took a heavy drink from her glass before walking behind a nearby pillar to be out of sight. However, even though she was out of sight it did not hide the sound of her panicked breaths. Well, Five couldn't say he didn't try to be sensitive about it. However, there was still a feeling of defeat after all that had occurred. Downing his glass, he then crossed his arms on the bar before leaning down and resting his head on his arms. It's not like there was much else to do.

"We should've given them Harlan..." Luther mumbled

"Luther." Viktor chastised

"What about Harlan?" Diego questioned

The rest of the family looked over to Luther. What was going on with Harlan and why was it important to this conversation? Realizing that it was too late to take back his words, but also that he did not want to hide this information Luther explained,

"The Sparrows said if we turned him over, we could end the fighting, and then work together to save the world."

Hearing this information the rest of the group perked up. Why hadn't they heard about this before?

"But if we didn't-" Luther continued

"But we tried to make peace. Okay? And then the step-siblings from hell attacked, kidnapped you, and they tried to kill us." Viktor chimed in cutting Luther off "I mean, come on. We can't trust them. Working together would be like trying to defuse a bomb by pouring gas on it. It's only gonna make things burn down faster."

"But don't we need the big bad glowy thing in their basement?" Klaus chimed in

As Five heard those words, he blinked a few times in confusion. Was Klaus talking about what he thought he was talking about? All this time, did Klaus have highly important information that he hadn't felt necessary to bring up until now? Slowly, Five turned to look at his eccentric brother as he questioned curiously,

"Klaus, do you know where the Kugelblitz is?"

"Oh, yeah. I saw it. When I went to visit Dad." Klaus replied nonchalantly "It's in the old storage room where Mom used to keep all her luggage."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Diego interrogated

"I did!" Klaus exclaimed, "I told you!"

"You say stupid shit all the time!" Diego shouted back before quietly adding "...important stupid shit."

Five slammed the empty glass he had been fiddling with on the bar top and stood up straight as he looked at Klaus. His thoughts which only a moment ago were despondent and wondering how he would spend his last day, were now reinvigorated with some type of hope of fixing things. He couldn't bring the loved ones you lost back, but if he could get access to the Kugelblitz he could stop it from hurting you and maybe you could build a life together where you both learned how to be happy again.

"Of course. It appeared in the same place we did." Five spoke aloud

Five felt a little stupid for not realizing this sooner. Why didn't he think to check the house? It made sense that it would appear there, that's where the paradox formed. Exactly, where they first showed up. Plans ran through Five's head of the quickest ways to get access to the Kugelblitz and the most effective ways to eliminate it. The sooner they did this, the more chance there was for a future.

However, Viktor knew that the tide had turned against him now. Everyone was most likely going to use Harlan as a pawn to get to the Kugelblitz, but he didn't deserve that. He needed a way to keep Harlan out of this. Trying to put his thoughts together, Viktor walked away from the bar and closer to the front desk, but he wouldn't get the time to himself as Luther had already followed him questioning,

"Hey, why are you protecting this guy, huh? It's like Peabody all over again."

Turning around to face Luther, Viktor knew he needed to try and get him off his back. Viktor was metaphorically trapped in a corner and he needed to find a way out of this.

"Harlan is nothing like Leonard." Viktor defended

"Well, he's clearly got some kinda hold over you." Luther protested "Stop covering for him."

There was nothing Viktor wanted more than to leave the conversation, but that became infinitely more complicated as the rest of his family approached him and Luther. Five looked between the two of them. They had been acting odd ever since Luther had brought up the deal the Sparrows offered. Even though it was probably the best plan, it was obvious Viktor wasn't in favor of it because of what it meant for Harlan, but it seemed like there was more to it that Luther was trying to address. Trying to get a clearer picture of what was going on Five asked,

"Covering what? What's going on?"

"He didn't mean to hurt anyone." Viktor dismissed

"Really? You mean, when he did this?" Luther interrogated, gesturing to the cut on Viktor's face

The rest of the group turned their attention to the scar on Viktor's face and it was not pretty. How had they not noticed it earlier? Well, perhaps because of everything that happened, but still it was right there on his face. Granted, it was not as large or deep as the gashes you received from the Kugelwave, but it wasn't small either.

"Ow," Lila commented

"Wait, Harlan did that?" Five questioned

"That's it, I'm gonna end him." Diego threatened

Viktor looked around nervously at his siblings and Lila. He didn't want this to be happening. Every insinuation or accusation that Luther shot his way was just one more reason for the rest of them to be all in on giving Harlan to the Sparrows. Viktor couldn't let that happen, if he did he'd be failing Harlan. He'd be failing Sissy for putting her son in harm's way. He never meant to hurt anyone, it was accidental. He was innocent.

"Look, I know how it looks, but Harlan didn't ask for this. If we hadn't gone back to 1963, if I hadn't saved him-" Viktor tried to deescalate

"He killed Jayme and Alphonso, not you." Luther retorted angrily, "He's the reason we're in this mess, and he's our only way out of it."

Although at this point Five wanted a distinct decrease in interpersonal conflict, no matter what way he looked at it Luther was right. Every plan he had started with getting access to the Kugelblitz without Sparrow intervention or retaliation. And the only plans in his mind that seemed to be plausible for that were the ones where Harlan was traded for access. It was a trolley problem, but the choice was easy to make.

"Luther's right." Five agreed "If we're gonna have an iota of a chance of getting out of this alive, we need access to the Kugelblitz."

"There's only four of them left. We can just overpower them." Viktor retorted frustrated

Five looked at Viktor bewildered. That was a stupid idea. It might've been only four of them, but they were still an incredibly strong team. Did Viktor forget the last time they fought the Sparrows? They got their asses kicked unbelievably hard. Trying to fight the Sparrows again was like willingly signing their death certificates.

"What, and risk losing some of us in the process?" Five snapped

"What? Like your girlfriend?" Viktor retorted

Five's bewilderment morphed into rage. How dare Viktor insinuate that you were weak and would die if they all tried fighting the Sparrows. Not only was that not true since you, one, beat all of them on your own, but two, they LIKED you. Even if you fought on the Umbrellas' side, the Sparrows most likely wouldn't be willing to engage you in that fight given the prior reasons. And on top of it all now, Five was very willing to sacrifice Viktor if it meant you stayed alive. Any concerns that Five might've had about sacrificing Harlan went out the window the second Viktor made that comment.

"No. Actually, she would be fine." Five berated "Because unlike you and the rest of us, she was able to single-handedly beat the Sparrows."

Viktor grimaced at Five's comment. Viktor's words came out before he fully thought them through and now there was no way he was getting Five back on his side. He had to try though, right? Opening his mouth, he was about to speak, but didn't get the chance as Luther remarked,

"Yeah, but we don't have her help now because someone had to make her hate us all."

Anger filled Diego as he whipped to face Luther. He had never meant to upset you, and to have whatever mistake he made thrown in his face did not feel good. But since Luther wanted to keep score of what caused your anger, Diego would too. Stepping up to Luther, Diego shouted,

"You made the family comment!"

"Well, YOU pissed her off enough to think that way!" Luther shot back "How hard was it to say 'yes, I love you'?!"

"ENOUGH." Five yelled

This conversation was heading in a direction that he didn't want to go to. You were upset and that's why you left. There was no discussion necessary because everyone was to blame. If they didn't cause the Kugelblitz none of this would be an issue. But unfortunately, they did cause it so now they needed to focus on fixing the problem. With the two giant idiots now quiet, Five turned back to Viktor and let out a heavy breath before more calmly saying,

"Listen Viktor, Harlan is insignificant."

"You told me once that no one is insignificant." Viktor replied

Five went quiet as he heard his words thrown back in his face. He had said that because it was true. In the grand scheme of timelines and outcomes, anyone could affect what happened. But things were different now. Now, they were talking about one person versus the rest of the world. Yes, Harlan was significant, but he also wasn't. He was the key to getting in the door of the academy and saving the world but after that, in the grand scheme of things he didn't matter.

Viktor looked around at his siblings waiting for someone to say something, but no one spoke. In that moment, Viktor tried his best to appeal to the humanity in his siblings, by quietly stating,

"They'll kill him."

However, his appeal was met with blank stares from the rest of the group. However, it didn't mean they had thoughts on what he said. Speaking up, Lila stated the obvious fact of the matter, saying,

"Uh, so? We are talking about one person versus saving billions of lives here. I mean, is this really a debate for you people?"

"Hey, Little Britain? You don't get a vote." Viktor angrily retorted

"Lila lives in this universe too." Klaus finally chimed in "Besides, she's family now. Kinda, sorta."

"Thanks, kitten." Lila thanked

"I don't give a shit about the Sparrows," Diego interjected "But I'm not gonna let scary-ass Grandpa finish you off."

"Five days ago, he was just a little kid." Viktor pleaded "And what? Now I'm supposed to just decide whether he lives or dies?"

Although Five was still upset at Viktor's comments and was fully ready to hand Harlan over to the Sparrows, he still cared about his brother. And his brother cared about Harlan. It was difficult, but if they were going to save the world and all the people left in it they had to trade Harlan to the Sparrows. It was the only way.

"Viktor, we're down to ethical triage here, all right? We can't save everyone." Five explained gently "The kindest cut wins."

Stepping forward from the rest of the group Luther looked down at Viktor. This was difficult, but it was necessary. Viktor had always wanted to be a full member of the Umbrella Academy, do what they did, and now this was his opportunity whether he liked it or not.

"You always wanted to be on the team. This is what it is." Luther added, mimicking Five's gentle tone "Saving the world means making the hard calls."

"I hate this." Viktor replied quietly

"Yeah, I know." Luther sympathized before quietly stating "I'll go get him."

Luther started to walk past Viktor. He knew how difficult this would be for Viktor so instead of arguing about it, Luther internally volunteered himself to go. But before he could get too far, Viktor turned to face him.

"Wait, no." Viktor called before adding "Let me do it. He trusts me. I can convince him to come quietly."

Before anyone could protest his decision, Viktor had already walked passed Luther and gone up the stairs toward the room Harlan was in. With Viktor gone and the beginnings of a plan in place, the rest of the group slowly dissolved as most of them went their separate ways in the hotel until it was time to trade Harlan to the Sparrows. As the rest of his siblings and Lila walked off he stayed at the bar, pouring himself another drink and wondering where you went.

The thing was, you didn't really know where you were going. Driving away from the Hotel Obsidian, you made your way down the apocalyptic streets of the city. There were even more abandoned cars, missing posters drifted in the wind, and random items were scattered about the sidewalks. The world seemed to have no direction, but neither did you. Where could you go when the city you once called home was now a graveyard? Your brain was numb and while your eyes were on the road, you weren't particularly focused. It was as if you were driving for driving's sake. Trying to escape something, but you couldn't quite get away.

Physically you were alive. Your heart still beat, your synapses still fired, your organs were all in relative working order, but mentally, you had died. You didn't know where to go. Most places that came to mind were just another reminder of what you had lost. Your head spun as you thought of your friends. Their laughter. Their voices. You swore you could hear it, clear as day.

"Where are we going, (Y/N)?" You heard Addison ask

Hearing her voice, your eyes shot up to the rearview mirror only to be met with a set a deep brown eyes looking back at you. But with your powers, you could feel that no one was there. Quickly, you turned off into a side alley before parking the car. Closing your eyes, you placed your hands over them as you quietly said,

"I can't do this again..."

"Do what, (Y/N)?" Kenny's voice asked

You gripped tighter at your head as if that would make him go away, but you knew it wouldn't. And just like that, it was as if you were 13 again. Stuck in a new world, with no parents, no home, and all your friends gone. You were the one thing you never wanted to be.

Alone.

You had worked so hard to get the Umbrellas out of your head after you lost them. You pushed through night terrors and vivid visages of your beloved friends trying to return to some semblance of normalcy. You had pushed away the pain of their loss, half through brute force and half through the support of others like Grace, Eudora, and...Diego. But now, you had no strength to push through, nor anyone to lend you support. Yes, you had Five, but he had more important things to worry about, and so you were right back where you started. Sad, alone, and begging for the phantom visions of your lost friends to not hurt you any further.

Lifting your head from your hands, you looked into the rearview mirror again. Tears began to well up as you saw the faces of your friends in the reflection. You tried to find your composure, but could only manage to gain a few scraps of it.

"You're not real." You stated, your voice wavering

"Of course we're real," the vision of Lucas replied "We're your friends."

"I don't want this!" You shouted, the tears falling from your eyes

"But you want us enough to need it." Dean's visage replied calmly

Dean was right. You wanted your friends back so badly that your head was creating them for you. It was the same reason it did so when you lost the Umbrellas. It was supposed to be comfort, but it was still pain. And for as much as you wanted them back, you didn't have the strength to do this. It hurt too much. Your eyes shut as you held your head in your hands once more. Your hands covered your ears as your fingers gripped tightly at your hair. Curled up as best as you could in the driver's seat, you screamed,

"GET OUT!"

Things went quiet, and when you opened your eyes, they were gone. Slowly, you turned around to look at the back seat. It was completely empty except for a few items scattered about it. Unbuckling your seatbelt, you leaned over the console into the back as you picked them up. Lucas' sunglasses. Addison's lucky bracelet. Kenny's flask. Bren's leather jacket. You pulled Viktoria's phone out of your pocket and placed it in the pile in your arms. With each item, you pressed them against your chest, holding them close as you began to sob once more. This was all you had left of them. A car and everything in it.

You didn't know how long it took to stop crying, but once you did, you felt empty again. At this point, you had given up on miracles, but you wished you could at least have something to distract your mind. Maybe if you got some air something would come along to distract you. You looked down at the objects in your arms. You didn't plan on going far, but you couldn't leave them behind. You had to keep your friends close. Carefully you placed the objects down on the passenger seat as one by one you placed them on your body. You put Bren's jacket on, followed by Addison's bracelet. Kenny's flask went into one jacket pocket while Lucas' sunglasses went in the other, on the same side you wore Addison's bracelet. They were in love, you had to keep the two of them together somehow. And then you placed Viktoria's phone back into your pants pocket. With all of them accounted for, you turned the car off and took Dean's keys out of the ignition.

Stepping out of the car you locked the driver's side door, but before you could walk away something told you to open the trunk. You were pretty sure you knew what was in there. The bag of money Kenny stole, the bag of fanfiction Viktoria put together, and the miscellaneous clothes that your friends had worn prior to the thrift store, and yet you still felt compelled to open it. Walking to the back of the car, you stuck the key into the trunk lock and opened it up, and while you saw exactly what you thought would be there, the was one more item you didn't expect.

Dean's bow and arrows.

The only time he ever took it off was to drive and for some reason going into the hotel was the one time he didn't bring it with him. You let out a sigh as you carefully picked up the bow and quiver of arrows. Granted, it wasn't his old bow, it was the one you gave him, but even for the one day he had it, it was his. And with this discovery, the three things your brother loved most were all in one place: his bow, his car, and you. But he wasn't here to be with them. It was your job to take care of it now. Anyway, with your knives gone, you needed a new projectile weapon so it seemed that this would be your best option. Throwing the quiver over your shoulder you attached the bow to it the way you had seen Dean do many times before. With that settled you closed the trunk of the car, locking it with the key once more before looking ahead. Walking to the front of the car, you patted the hood as you said,

"Stay here, Veronica. I'll be back."

And with that, you started to walk down the alley you had parked in and took a look at the surroundings. On your right, there was the backside of brick buildings and to your left, it looked like that of a warehouse. There was something familiar about this place, as if you had been here before. However, you had lived in this city practically your whole life so many places felt familiar. But this, this was different. It was uncanny. And then you saw it, a set of double doors that you had encountered before. This wasn't just any warehouse. This was the warehouse you almost died in at 17. Out of all the alleys you had pulled into, you ended up in this one. It was almost funny the way the world toyed with you. In your timeline, this place had burned to the ground, but in this one that had never happened and so here it was completely intact. You stood in front of the double doors and contemplated going in. You hesitated for a moment wondering if reminding yourself of that day would be good for you right now, but it wasn't like your day could get much worse at this point, right?

With a shrug of your shoulders, you walked through the doors and into the building. Light came in through the dirty and broken windows illuminating the copious amount of dust. Machines sat broken and the place was abandoned as ever. You wondered what happened in this timeline for it to be left in this condition. In your old one, it was still functioning just severely unsecured. Making your way down the halls you came to a large opening, and found yourself in the same room where everything had gone down five years and two timelines ago. It was still terribly humid in the place, but the air felt mustier than you recalled. Looking around, you could practically see the events of that day replaying in front of you.

Melted guns on flesh, arrows to organs, broken skulls, snapped necks, drowning from the inside, you remembered how all of it played out. You recalled the way in which your body tore at itself from overusing your powers, the current wounds on your forearm and collarbone mimicking the ones you got that day. And then over to the side of the room you saw it, the now-defunct and most likely empty gas tank. Unlike that day when you had rushed over, today you walked slowly, your steps echoing across the floor as you remembered the events that occurred. The last drug dealer alive threw his lighter into the tank and Bren didn't notice as he began to run beside it. You stopped walking and looked at the spot you now stood in. It was the same spot you had jumped over to and pushed Bren to the ground behind you. You mustered all the strength you had left that day to use your powers and protect him from the explosion. All you could recall was the terrified look on Bren's face and then everything went black.

A selfish part of you wished Kenny hadn't saved your life that day. If he hadn't then you would've never had to live without your friends. Never had to fight multiple apocalypses. Never had to grieve their deaths multiple times. Never have been left alone like this. But then again, you'd never want them to feel the pain that comes with the loss of a friend. You knew what that pain was like before you had ever lost them, and you would do anything to make sure they never felt that. Perhaps it was better this way, better for them to die together and you to be alone, rather than the reverse. The last thing you needed was your death turning your friends into the Hargreeves, although you hoped they knew how to stick together better than the Umbrella Academy. Nevertheless, it was an isolating situation as you quietly stood over the site of your almost-death.

However, the quiet did not last as you heard the sound of a door slam in the distance. With the sounds of footsteps approaching, you tried to use your powers to lift a nearby pallet so you could knock out whoever was coming, but all it did was make you feel nauseous. It didn't hurt you to use your powers, but you still needed time to recover from the last energy wave and surely you wouldn't last long in a fight. As the footsteps drew closer to the room you were in you knew you had no choice but to go for a more direct approach. Pulling out Dean's bow and an arrow you lifted it up and pulled the string back just as Dean would've. And as the figure rounded the corner into the room you were in you let the arrow fly. At rapid speed, the arrow shot toward the unknown figure and punctured straight into...the wall next to them.

"What the hell!" The figure shouted

Wait. You couldn't see the person, but you certainly recognized that voice.

"Benjamin?" You questioned, a mix of confusion and annoyance in your tone

You saw as he began to angrily march over to you. His expression was a mix of shock and exasperation. God damn it. You didn't want to deal with this asshole.

"You could've killed me!" Ben shouted angrily

"If I wanted you dead, you would be." You deadpanned

That wasn't fully true. You missed lodging the arrow in Ben's shoulder by about two inches. Dean had given you a few lessons on using his bow and arrow and while you were a decent shot you certainly weren't as good as he was. The only way you could match his accuracy was in your knife-throwing skills, but that wasn't an option anymore. However, that information did not matter because Ben didn't need to know it. What mattered was figuring out what his plan was though. If he was here, he had to have some type of motive.

"Why are you here?" You demanded

Ben stopped in his tracks as he heard your question. His attention locked on you as he retorted,

"I could ask you the same question."

Pulling out another arrow, you raised the bow up once more and aimed it at Ben. Since he was closer now, you were certain you wouldn't miss him this time. And while you didn't want to insinuate a potential fight, you needed him to answer so you could figure out if he was actually a threat or not.

"We both know how capable I am of killing you." You replied firmly "Answer my question."

"Fine." Ben spat "Just put the bow down."

Slowly, you lowered the bow and arrow, but you kept them in your hands, ready to raise them back up if necessary. You stayed quiet, looking at him sternly as you waited for his response. You watched as he took a moment to assess the situation, his eyes darting at the room, the bow, and you before he answered,

"Since the Umbrella Academy killed Alphonso and Jayme yesterday Fei has been sending out her birds to keep tabs on them. One of them spotted you coming here, so I came to investigate."

Your face filled with disgust at the way he spoke. He talked as if finding you here was some sort of retcon mission and the fact that you were possibly being tracked since yesterday did nothing to improve your mood. But then the actual words he said processed through your mind and your stern expression fell as a sad look overtook your face.

"Jayme and Alphonso are dead?" You questioned sadly

Ben looked at you. From where he stood your body language was more relaxed than it was a minute ago and while you still held the bow in your hands, he had a feeling that you weren't going to use it again. When Fei mentioned that one of her birds had spotted you out this way he knew he had to come find you. There was something about you that puzzled him and he wanted to figure it out. He didn't even care that Fei snickered at him as he rushed out the door to find you because he had to. But if he was going to find out why you were in an abandoned warehouse then it would be easier to do so up close. If he could see your face better, he could read you better. Believing that you weren't going to threaten him harm again, he slowly approached as he responded,

"Yeah. The weird old guy with the Umbrellas, Harlan. I watched him kill them."

Harlan? Wasn't that the little boy that Viktor had accidentally given powers to? It had been 50 years though so it makes sense he would've been an old man now. You wondered how he came to be in this area if he was from Texas. Had Viktor sought him out or did Harlan find Viktor? Either way, it was upsetting that two more losses had occurred even if you only knew them briefly. You looked at Ben. Unlike your Ben who you could easily read, this one was closed off. You couldn't tell if the death of his siblings affected him or not, but you weren't one to take familial death lightly. Carefully, you placed Dean's bow and arrow back into the quiver. Even if you weren't his biggest fan that didn't mean your sympathy completely went away. With sincerity in your tone, you said,

"I'm sorry. You didn't deserve to go through that."

Ben paused, the slightest look of confusion on his face. He couldn't remember the last time someone expressed sympathy toward him. He tried to wrack his brain for at least one moment, but none came. No one had ever told him that he didn't deserve to go through the things he faced before. He looked at you intently, your voice was sincere, but he wanted to see if your face was too. He thought that maybe this was just a ploy to get his guard down, but when he looked at you, your expression was soft and your eyes, they were sad, but not in the disappointed way his family had looked at him before. Quite the opposite, your gaze was apologetic. You were genuinely sorry that his siblings had died. He stared at you unsure of what to say and slowly began to step closer, but as he looked at you he began to notice details about you that he hadn't before. Parts of your body were covered with gauze, your cream-colored outfit was splotched with maroon markings that he now realized were dried blood, and your eyes that were soft and apologetic toward him were red and puffy as if you had been profusely crying.

Seeing you this way, it was as if something ignited inside Ben. He could feel as his heart rate increased, the beat of it drumming faster than it did on any mission. He felt infuriated. Not at you, but at the fact that you looked this way. His hands shook slightly at his sides and he felt like he needed to go out and fight someone, but he didn't know who. He didn't know why, but he couldn't stand seeing you hurt like this. With a serious look on his face, and his voice firm and steady, he questioned,

"Who did this to you?"

Your sympathetic look contorted into a frown as you heard his question. Your wounds, both mental and physical, were fresh. The grief and rage of what had happened not to long ago still coursed through your veins.

"Blame the people who killed your siblings," You spat "Their selfish inaction is killing me."

Ben scowled. He already didn't like them, but knowing this made him even more disdainful. He couldn't explain it, but part of him wanted to march right into that hotel and start picking them off.

"The Umbrellas did this?" Ben questioned, vile in his tone

"The black hole caused by them existing in this timeline did this," You stated gesturing to your wounds before gesturing to your red and puffy eyes and adding "And their lack of initiative to stop it, leading to the deaths of my friends, caused this."

Ben's contempt for the Umbrellas continued as you elaborated on what had happened, but there was a part of him that felt a twinge of guilt. When Viktor and Allison came to the Academy to tell them that things were disappearing he initially dismissed them. Now that it had become a bigger issue he did recognize the threat, but he didn't really care about it until now when it had affected you. He wasn't going to open his mouth and tell you that though. Right now you weren't on good terms with the Umbrellas, so perhaps he could get you with him on the side of the Sparrows. It would be nice to have someone competent like you by his side. And also the Sparrows could use your strength. But to do that he had to continue to build some type of rapport. Trying to keep the conversation going, Ben asked,

"So why are you here?"

"I don't know. I just kinda ended up here." You explained, "I guess there's something familiar about the place where my friends' and I's fates were almost reversed."

"Almost reversed?" Ben asked curiously

"When I was seventeen I should've died in this warehouse. In this exact spot actually." You answered, pointing at the spot on the floor where you both stood "Only reason I survived was I took a massive dose of epinephrine straight to the heart."

Ben's face dropped upon hearing your words. His curiosity washed away and his gaze turned to look at the floor beneath his feet. He was standing on the spot where you almost died at seventeen. His body tensed and there was a pang of familiarity in his chest as wicked memories he tried to forget played in his mind. Seventeen...far too young to experience a near-death experience.

"How?" He asked quietly, his gaze still on the floor

Typically, this wasn't a topic you shared with others, but before you could stop yourself though the words just tumbled out of your mouth,

"My friend Brendon, Bren, he- he didn't know the gas tank over there was going to explode. He didn't see the lighter go in the tank and-"

You stopped. Your brain rushed with the events of that day again except this time everything moved slower. You had made your decision to jump in front of Bren in less than a second, but thinking about it again you recalled the one other thought you had before you jumped in front of him. You looked off in the distance toward the defunct gas tank.

"When Ben died, I technically didn't even exist. I couldn't save him. I never got the chance." You explained softly "But I could save Bren. So I did. I wasn't going to let history repeat itself and I didn't care what it would cost me."

Ben's gaze left the floor and back toward you once more. His eyes did not meet your own as you looked off in the distance, but he could see the pained look on your face. Mournful, sad, regretful. Part of him wanted to say something to you, that he was sorry for what happened, that you shouldn't have had to go through what you did, but it felt like the words were caught in his throat. He didn't really know how to articulate it because feeling this way was discouraged by his father. He said sympathy was weak, and yet you were stronger and far more favored by his father than him and still you were kind. But before he could find the ability to say something he saw you open your mouth to speak and so he kept his shut.

"But it doesn't matter because he and the rest of my friends are all gone and I'm telling you all these things because- I don't even know why!" You exclaimed frustrated before quietly adding, "Probably because you're the only one around..."

As you said those words you looked back at Sparrow Ben and for the first time his expression had no anger in it. It was gentle and...sympathetic. You paused. The way he looked at you, it was the same way your Ben would when he was concerned about you. When everyone else was off doing their own things during each apocalypse he always sought you out and made sure you were okay. And he looked just like that.

"What's that look for?" Ben questioned, noticing the change in your demeanor

"You just...look like Ben." You answered quietly, gesturing toward him

Ben's sympathetic look morphed into one of frustration as he exclaimed,

"I am Ben!"

Your face dropped as you heard his outburst. Your sad look changing into annoyance. He certainly was NOT Ben.

"Not to me. You're not my Ben." You deadpanned "You're Benjamin."

You were so infuriating. His name was Ben, he was Ben and you refused to acknowledge him as such. Why? Why wouldn't you address him properly?

"Why won't you call me Ben? It's my name!" Ben ranted

"You've never given me a reason to do so. You've never done anything to show me you deserve the name more than him."

Ben frowned at your answer. Everyone kept talking about this other Ben. This seemingly perfect other Ben. Why? What was the point of bringing him up? He was apparently dead while Ben was right here. And yet they all compared him to this other one.

"All of you treat this other Ben of yours like he's so special." Ben complained

"He's only special to them because he's dead. If he was alive they'd treat him the same way they treat each other." You snidely remarked "Poorly."

Ben looked at you surprised. Your tone was filled with contempt as you talked about how the Umbrellas treated each other. He could see your point though, they weren't quite a united front when it came to things and seemed to constantly undermine each other. However, your statement only covered why this other Ben was special to the Umbrellas.

"He wasn't special to you?" Ben asked confused

You let out a sigh. Quite the opposite, Ben was very special.

"No, he was. But it's because he was my friend. We worked well together, I saw him when no one else could and he listened to me when no one else would." You explained softly "That's what made him special. Who he was, not the fact that he was gone."

You missed Ben. When you told the Umbrellas he was the only one who treated you like family, you meant it. You made him feel seen and he made me feel heard. You saw him, you spoke to him, you gave him the recognition and connection that he had craved for all those years he was stuck with just Klaus. And he heard you, he noticed you when your demeanor changed, he sought you out and always made sure you were okay when no one else seemed to remember to. You respected each other. You understood each other. You missed the Ben who was your friend, your family, but all you were stuck with was his abrasive, confusing doppelgänger.

Ben stood still as he processed what you had said. He honestly didn't know how to react to your explanation since you spoke so kindly of him. Well, this other version of him. He was special because of who he was? Ben had heard something like that before from his father, but that was in relation to his powers and what he could do with them. However, special in that context meant to show how he was above others. In yours, it was a term of endearment. You liked that Ben. You cared for that Ben. But would you ever see him that way too? Ben tried to shake the thought from his head. He didn't like how easily you found your way into his thoughts. It was distracting. He needed to switch the topic.

Just a few minutes ago you had mentioned the black hole causing trouble in the world. Allison and Viktor had brought it up to him and Fei yesterday morning as well. Of course that was before they actually found it in the basement, but he wondered with your abilities did you know where it was?

"So this black hole...do you know where it is?" Ben asked, his tone indicating the awkward change in topic

You raised an eyebrow at him as you tried to figure out what he was getting at. Why would he jump from asking about Ben to asking about the black hole? Was he trying to get information out of you or was he just bad at conversation?

"Uh kinda..." You hesitantly responded, "I can sense its direction when a wave hits, but I can't feel its location without one."

"Why not?" Ben followed up

What kind of conversation was this? Could you even call it a conversation with how weird he was? It didn't really seem like he had an actual plan coming here and was just winging it. You were curious to see how this would play out though, it's not like there was much else of intrigue going on in your life.

"Because it's a fucked up black hole. It doesn't play by the rules." You replied before elaborating "When a wave happens, the black hole is releasing the potential energy that had built up inside it and distributing it across the world. As it does this it sucks certain things in with it because it needs more fuel so it can continue to sustain itself. When it's doing that I can feel it because its energy is disturbing everything."

"So you can't feel it now?" Ben followed up

Was that not what you had just explained? It's not like you were using a lot of big words or technical terminology. It's like he wasn't even paying attention. Did he actually care for your answers or was he just looking at you with a stupid expression just because?

"Were you not listening? Without a wave, it's in a homeostasis of sorts." You explained slightly more exasperated "All of its energy is contained inside of it while the outside is normal. Well, my definition of normal."

Ben could feel a slight heat rise to his face as you asked if he was listening. He was. Well, at least he thought he was. He was looking at you, and he was watching you speak, but the words seemed to fade away a little as he watched you. But he understood now, and to demonstrate his understanding he stated,

"Oh, so it's a paradox."

Okay, maybe he was listening to you. But if so that just meant his face looked stupid in general which was certainly unfortunate for him.

"Yeah, something like that. Schrödinger's energy." You replied "But that is for the Umbrellas to figure out. I literally don't care anymore."

A silence fell over the room. You looked at Ben and Ben looked at you, but there were no more words being exchanged. The silence wasn't awkward though, it just felt empty. It felt like there were more words or at least there should be more words. Maybe it was because you were lonely, but part of you wanted to talk more. Having someone to talk to, even if they weren't your first choice of person, was better than being alone and far surpassed accepting conversation with the voices in your head. But with nothing else to be said, there wasn't really any point in staying.

"Well, this has been...interesting, but I'm going to go now." You stated as you began to walk away

Ben looked at you shocked. No, no you couldn't go. He had only found you a few minutes ago. You had only just started talking. He hadn't even gotten a chance to get his bearings on the situation yet and now you were leaving? Where were you going? The only place you had was Hotel Obsidian.

"You're going back to the hotel?" He questioned

"And run into the life-ruining squad? No thanks." You scoffed back, continuing to walk "I'll figure out somewhere else to go."

Watching you walk away he knew he needed to do something to stop you and before he could even realize he had said it, Ben blurted out,

"Go to the Academy."

Stopping in your tracks, you turned to look back at him. You were surprised he had called out to you, but it was a decent suggestion. At this point where else did you have to go? You couldn't go back to Kenny's, you couldn't go home, and you still weren't ready to face the Hargreeves at the hotel again. And so, all that was left was the one place you kept coming back to. The Academy. With a shrug of your shoulders, You reluctantly replied,

"Okay."

Ben looked at you shocked. He didn't actually think that would work. He thought he was going to have to convince you more to go there. He had already started forming his argument in his head to try and get you to the Academy, but now he was at a loss for words.

"Wait? Really?" He questioned confused

"Yeah." You replied bluntly before turning around and beginning to walk away again

Ben stood frozen as he watched you walk away. He hadn't gotten far in his planning and once again you had flipped his brain upside down. You were so unpredictable. He hated how he couldn't understand you. At this point, all he wanted was to be able to understand you. It certainly would help to dispel the confusion he felt every time he interacted with you.

As you continued to walk toward the door you could feel that Ben was far behind you. Glancing over your shoulder you noticed him still standing in the same spot you had left him in. Encouraging him to follow you called out,

"Hurry up you cephalofuck!"

Snapping from his trance, Ben realized not only how far you were but what you had just called him. Cephalofuck? Really?! Quickly, he started to make his way over to you as he shouted,

"Don't call me that!"

You didn't respond though as you walked out of the main room of the warehouse and back to the door to the alleyway. As you retraced your steps to the door you came in you could hear the sound of speed walking behind you as Ben shouted,

"Wait up!"

You kept going though, and when you made it to the set of doors you came through, you walked through them back outside. Taking a step off to the side, you leaned against the brick exterior as you waited for Ben to exit the building. After a few moments, one of the doors widely swung open and you watched as Ben quickly looked around for you. Catching your gaze, Ben trudged over to you, his hands balled up angrily and his classic scowl present on his face.

"You could've waited for me!" He complained

"I'm waiting now, aren't I?" You remarked

Ben paused. You were so frustrating! You made him so frustrated! He didn't even know what to say. He stopped for a moment trying to find the words, but through gritted teeth, all he could do was point and say,

"My car is that way."

The way he was pointing was in the complete opposite direction of Dean's car and you couldn't just leave Veronica here. It would be wrong. That was your brother's baby. That car is your first niece. Her father was dead, you couldn't just abandon her. You'd be a terrible aunt for that.

"Yeah, no." You rejected "I'm not abandoning the car I came in. You want me to go to the Academy you either have to drive alone or get in with me."

"How can I trust you won't just go somewhere else?" Ben inquired

"Where else do I have to go?" You questioned back

"I-I don't know!" Ben exclaimed frustrated

"Listen man, you can either learn to trust people or you can get in the car with me, but I'm not leaving it behind." You explained

Ben was perfectly capable of trusting people. As the rightful leader of the Sparrows, Ben trusted his siblings to listen to him when they went on missions. Ben trusted his father's judgment. Ben trusted that civilians would respect him went he went out in public. Ben had plenty of trust.

"Fine. I'll go with you." Ben relented "But only because I can TRUST that my car will be okay."

Oh boy. Reginald had really screwed him up, hadn't he? This Ben had no clue what genuine trust was. Genuine trust came with vulnerability and from what you saw, he refused to be vulnerable. Part of you wanted to explain to him what real trust was, but twenty-nine seemed a little too late for an outside intervention. Instead, you gave a shrug of your shoulders and nonchalantly replied,

"Whatever cognitives your dissonance, dude. The car's this way."

Turning away from him you walked down the alley from which you came and headed back to your car. The only sounds you could hear were that of your footsteps and Ben grumbling to himself behind you. You couldn't make out the words he was saying, but you could assume he was ranting about you. It was a shame you ran out of fucks to give just an hour ago, maybe if you had one you'd care to coddle his ego just like you had done with the rest of the Hargreeves. Oh well!

As you arrived back at Veronica, you used the key to unlock the driver's side door, but as you opened it to get in you saw Ben stop. His eyes looked over the car for a moment, before judgmentally commenting,

"This is your car? It looks old as hell."

Technically, he was correct. Veronica was a 1967 Chevy Impala making her quite old, but his tone of voice mentioning that fact was off-putting and offensive to you. Veronica ran better than most cars these days because Dean took such good care of her. She was his pride and joy and you weren't going to let his snide remark slide.

"Excuse you, Veronica's exterior might be vintage but she was built for street racing and she runs like a dream." You retorted "Also, this isn't my car. It's my brother's."

"How did Diego get a car so fast?" Ben questioned

You grimaced at his question. While he didn't know any better given that you had referred to Diego as your brother the last time you spoke, you didn't like hearing Diego being called that. He wasn't your brother. In your experience, a brother was someone who cared for you, and now you knew, Diego did not.

"Diego is not my brother." You spat before adding "This is Dean's car."

"Who the hell is Dean?" Ben asked confused

"My only brother." You remarked quickly "Now get in."

Ben had a few questions about some of the things you had just said, but he could see your frustration building. He wondered if offering to beat up Diego would appeal to you, but his gut told him not to push the issue. With a curt nod of his head, Ben walked to the passenger side and got in the car as the two of you silently drove back to the academy. Ben wanted to say something, but he didn't exactly know how. He didn't think you'd react nicely to him talking about himself and his accomplishments as part of the Sparrows, but he also wasn't sure how to ask you about well...you. Everything you had mentioned so far was either surface level or something that had upset you, neither of which he could build a conversation off of. Instead of talking, he opted to look out the window of the car as he watched the messed up remains of the city go by as you made your way back to the Academy.

It didn't take long, but soon enough the two of you pulled up in front of the building. Without saying much you and Ben both exited the car and headed inside. As you entered the foyer, you could see Sloane walking down the stairs and when she caught sight of you, her eyes lit up.

"(Y/N), you're back!" Sloane exclaimed excitedly, coming over and giving you a hug

"Hello, Sloane." You greeted, hugging her back

As she held you, you could feel her hug getting tighter, and while emotionally you felt comforted by being held, physically you were extremely uncomfortable.

"Augh." You groaned in pain

Scared she had hurt you, Sloane pulled back from the hug and when she took a better look at you, she noticed the bloody bandaging on your hand and face.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?" She asked concerned

"I'm fine, it's no big deal." You deflected

That was only partially true. You did feel better than you did right after it happened, and your injuries weren't actively hurting you, but the soreness that came with touching those injuries was still present. Your deflection did nothing though as Sloane pressed,

"No, you should have Grace take a look at you."

"I'll be fine." You deflected once more

"No, I insist." Sloane replied concerned "(Y/N), this is your home, please let Grace take care of you like she takes care of us."

With it seeming like she wasn't going to drop the topic until you agreed, you nodded your head and said,

"Okay."

Linking arms with you, she guided you upstairs to the medical room of the Academy with Ben trailing closely behind. Sloane didn't need to guide you, you had been here before and knew where it was. Nevertheless, you didn't pull away as it was comforting to have someone care. As you made your way into the med bay you sat down on the bed in the room.

"Let me go find Grace and send her here." Sloane stated

You watched as Sloane walked back out the door of the med bay and off to find Grace leaving only you and Ben in the room. He leaned against the wall next to the door, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked in your direction. Why was he still here? It didn't bother you that he was, but at the same time, you couldn't understand why he would want to stay. Your Ben always stuck around because he cared, but you weren't close to this Ben the way you were with yours. Did he care or was this some type of 'hero' reflex where he couldn't leave until you were deemed saved? You were sad and injured, but you weren't weak. You didn't need saving.

"You don't have to stay with me, y'know." You mentioned

After the words came out of your mouth you could see his face change. What was once a neutral expression dropped into that of a frown. It looked almost like he was hurt by your comment.

"Oh." Ben responded "Okay..."

You watched as he stepped away from the wall and walked toward the door. He looked back at you for a moment, his gaze lingering and his face still reflecting an emotion of hurt, before turning and walking away. Aw, man. You felt a little bad for sending him away. Maybe he was actually being nice and now you were all alone waiting for Grace to show up.

You sat for a few minutes in empty silence before hearing footsteps approaching. Looking at the doorway, you wondered if Ben had come back, but instead, you were met with an odd sight. It was Grace, but she didn't look like herself. Her wardrobe and hairstyle look almost cultish and she was missing an eye. As she approached she looked at you, but instead of the empty void you felt a few days ago there was something different behind her eyes now, but whatever it was it made you uneasy. You removed Bren's jacket and tied it tightly around your waist so that Grace could look at all your injuries including the one on your forearm.

You watched carefully as she undressed and cleaned your wounds, the peroxide stinging against your flesh as it seeped into what skin was still left open. At least most of the gashes were close to closing themselves. If there was one thing you appreciated most about your powers it was the regenerative factor. Carefully, she placed new, clean gauze over your injuries and when she was finished she turned away and quietly left.

After a moment you stood up from the bed you were sitting on and walked out of the med bay. Catching a glimpse of yourself as you passed one of the large glass windows in the kitchen you saw the blood that still stained your outfit. Since you felt better, you decided to use your powers to remove the dried blood from your clothes. Changing its state back into liquid, you pulled it out from the fibers of your clothing before floating the mass of old blood over to the sink and sending it down the drain. Now that you were all fixed up though, you weren't quite sure what to do, so you headed downstairs in hopes of finding someone in the house. Not Grace though. Someone other than Grace.

As you went through the hallways the Academy was quiet and felt empty. Even though there were far more people living here now than you had experienced while living here, it still felt so hollow. Walking down the main staircase you looked around the foyer before noticing Ben standing next to the fireplace, looking up at his portrait. Approaching from behind you attempted to initiate a friendlier conversation by jokingly commenting,

"Y'know, you'd be prettier if you smiled."

You watched as Ben slowly turned to look back at you. He seemed confused by your comment as he awkwardly began to smile at you, although it looked more like he was grimacing.

"I meant in the painting." You commented, gesturing toward the picture

"Oh." Ben replied, his grimacey smile dropped as he said "It was a serious portrait."

Walking over to him, you stood by his side and looked up at his portrait. He was so young in it. Granted he wasn't as young as Five was in his, but that didn't make it any better. His eyes were filled with sadness even if his face seemed neutral and his hand gripped the arm of the chair he sat in tightly. Charlie had done this painting and he always painted what he saw. You know that Charlie had mentioned in his journal that he didn't want to paint it given what you had told him about Five's portrait. And you could see why, it was nothing like Charlie's art style. It was somber and dark and what it represented was nothing that either you or him stood for. You looked away from the painting and toward Ben. His face was hardened as he looked at the painted version of himself. You didn't know what he had done this time compared to that of Umbrella Ben but you knew that he didn't deserve this as his consequence.

"Yeah, I know it was." You said quietly "I'm sorry you had to pose for that."

"Sorry?" Ben replied confused before stating "My father honored me with that portrait."

"Benjamin, I want to believe you're smarter than that." You replied "You and I both know, it's not an honor to have your portrait over the fireplace. It's a punishment. A reminder to not step out of line."

"What do you mean?" Ben questioned

"Five had a portrait too. Charlie painted it after he ran away through time, but it wasn't made in memory of him." You explained, "It was a reminder to the rest of the Umbrellas of what happens when you don't listen to Reginald."

Looking away from Ben, your attention turned back to his portrait over the fireplace. As you recalled it was the same spot where Five's portrait hand hung in the first timeline and that of your portrait too earlier in this one. You hated the fireplace portraits, they were nothing but a reminder of the control Reginald had over the Umbrellas, and now the Sparrows too.

"I hated looking at that thing, I thought about burning it every day." You commented

"Did you?" He inquired

"No."

Now it was Ben who looked at you, your eyes trained on the painting of him above the fireplace. The expression on your face was confusing, he couldn't tell if it was sad or angry. Perhaps both. He wondered why if you had hated Five's portrait so much you didn't burn it like you thought about doing. Personally, if he saw Five's portrait he'd consider burning it too, and more than likely he would follow through. Nevertheless, he was still interested in your answer as he questioned,

"Why not?"

"It was one of the only pictures where Five didn't have his mask on." You replied gently "I didn't want to forget his eyes...."

Ben scowled at your comment. Ugh. Why did you have to be so sappy about Five? What was so special about him anyway? Ben hated hearing about him from you. Ben didn't really know the guy, but something about Five just bugged him to his core. All Ben knew was that he was a jumpy little guy, probably the smartest of his siblings, and he was your...ugh...boyfriend. Whatever. Ben didn't want to think about him.

"Maybe you should've burned it if you hated it." Ben remarked

"Maybe I should've since having a portrait isn't a good thing." You replied before adding "The only good thing about your portrait being there is that mine isn't anymore. It's gone."

Ben's scowl faded away as he looked at you confused. Your portrait wasn't gone, it was just moved.

"It's not gone." He mentioned

"It's not?" You asked surprised

"No." Ben explained, "When mine was placed there it was moved to your room."

"Is that so?" You said aloud

All the times you had been at the Academy post 60s time jump you had never gone back into your room. It had never actually crossed your mind to go in there since you assumed someone else would've taken it, but looking back it made far more sense for it to still be there. The Sparrows were told that you would return like some messiah, so of course they would've kept your room untouched. Turning on your heel you walked away from Ben and back towards the foyer. You could hear from behind you as he called out,

"Where are you going?"

But instead of responding, you flashed away to the upstairs hall. Walking down the corridor you passed other bedrooms before arriving at your door. Opening it up, you stepped inside, and if it wasn't for the distinct lack of time travel nausea you would've thought you were thrown right back into the 60s. Just like your room at the hotel, this place was completely frozen in time with everything still untouched in its place except for the distinct portrait that hung on the wall over the bed. It was your portrait. The one Reginald had commissioned Charlie to paint as a birthday gift to you. Stepping toward it you looked at yourself. Well, not really yourself, but the idealized version of you that Reggie wanted you to be. The version he made others, including the Sparrows, think you were. As you stood there looking at practically a stranger with your face, you heard as a recognizable voice commented,

"I was wondering when you'd show up."

Letting out a huff, you turned around to see Charlie sitting on the stool of your vanity.

"Oh jeez." You muttered before remarking "Let me guess, my brain sent you since I shooed the others away?"

"Well, one person is probably easier to handle than six." Charlie responded

"Hallucination." You corrected "Not person."

"Tomato, potato. It's almost the same thing." He replied

You rolled your eyes at the phantom your brain had come up with. While his presence didn't hurt as much because you knew he died of natural causes, it still didn't please you to have your mind playing tricks like this.

"What do you want?" You questioned

"To watch." Hallucination Charlie replied candidly

"Watch what?" You asked confused

"Watch that monstrosity go away." He answered pointing at your portrait "Doesn't take a genius to figure out you'd get rid of this thing the minute you got a chance."

While he was correct that you had been trying to get rid of this portrait ever since you had first saw it, you couldn't do so anymore. Sure, you and Charlie both greatly disliked it, but he had put in the time and effort to paint you. And now that he was gone all that was left of him were the works he created.

"I'm not going to get rid of it. You painted it." You spoke back

"Laaaaameee." Charlie's visage mocked "Can't believe my death made you soft."

"It did not!" You exclaimed annoyed

"Then destroy it- oh what's the word you taught me...oh right!" Charlie retorted "Shitwit."

"Rude." You muttered

"(Y/N), you and I both hate it, so obliterate it. Make sure that by the time you're done, there's nothing left of it. Because that's not you. It's the you Reginald wants you to be, not the one I know you are." Charlie explained

If it wasn't for the fact that you knew he wasn't there, you'd truly believe this was your friend in front of you. He looked like Charlie, he talked like Charlie, he was Charlie without actually being him. You watched as he got up from the stool and stepped over to you. His green eyes were bright and sincere as he placed a hand on your shoulder and said,

"If you're not gonna do it for yourself, then do it for me."

Even if he wasn't here you still couldn't deny a request from your friend especially when you knew that if it was actually him, he would've wanted this too. With a small nod of your head, you replied,

"Okay. I'll do it."

Charlie smiled at you and for a moment you actually managed to smile back at him. You turned away from him and went to open the window of your bedroom, but when you turned around to grab the portrait, he was gone. You let out a little sigh, but you couldn't stop now. Taking the portrait off the wall you began to shove it outside the window.

As you were doing this though, Ben walked into your room. He had assumed you had gone here based on the conversation you had in the parlor, but walking up here took longer than just appearing here like you could. As he entered though, he saw what you were doing and a sense of panic began to flood his system.

"Hey! Hey!" Ben shouted frantically "What are you doing!"

"I'm doing what I should've done the day this was hung." You replied back

With each hand holding one side of the frame you ignited the wood and watched as it spread toward the canvas.

"No stop!" Ben exclaimed rushing over to try and grab at the painting "When I said you should've burned it if you hated it I didn't mean this portrait!"

You didn't listen to his panic though and instead dropped the portrait out of the second-story window and on to the concrete of the courtyard. As it hit the ground, the frame broke into multiple pieces and the canvas ripped into a few parts. The flames that you had ignited slowly started to consume the once-grand painting until all that was left was flickering embers. You looked over at Ben with a neutral expression while he looked back in horrified shock.

"Are you crazy?! That was a masterpiece! It was an irreplaceable piece of art! You destroyed it like it was nothing!" Ben ranted

He couldn't believe what you had just done. That portrait was one of a kind. None of the other portraits that Mr. Anderson had done even came close to the quality of yours. Out of all the paintings in the Academy, including his own, yours was his favorite. It was colorful, and detailed, and lively. To him, it was like a bright spot in an otherwise dreary house and now it was gone. He looked at you waiting for some type of explanation, which he got in the form of you stating,

"It's what Charlie wanted."

Ben couldn't believe you. How did you know this is what Mr. Anderson would've wanted? Yes, Ben knew that you were his friend back in the '60s, but he died before you returned. How could you be sure that he would want his work of art to be destroyed? Surely, if it was up to Ben he wouldn't have destroyed it. It was a work unlike any other. If it was his painting, he would've shown the world how magnificent it was rather than leaving it in the shadows. Not knowing what to say to you, Ben gave one last look at the ashes of the portrait before walking away from you and leaving to go to his room.

You watched as he left, unsure of why he was so upset over the painting. It was technically your birthday gift so you could do whatever you wanted with it, but you didn't feel good upsetting him. Sure he was kinda a jerk, but he was probably just misguided by his upbringing, and once again, he looked genuinely hurt by your actions when you were trying your best to be nice. Was your grief making it difficult to be nice or was his background stopping him from accepting a little kindness? He was so back and forth that you couldn't tell. It was like there were two versions of him fighting inside for who got to be present in the moment, a kinder, gentler Ben versus the colder, more abrasive one. Nevertheless, you felt it was only right to try and smooth things over, again, given that he was more tolerable when he wasn't in a mood. Following his path, you stepped into the hallway of bedrooms and saw that only one was closed. Approaching the door, you knocked on it gently as you called,

"Benjamin."

"Go away." He responded

"Okay, yeah that's not how this works." You stated before phasing through the door

Ben turned around in his desk chair to look at you as he complained,

"God, what do you want?"

You didn't respond to him though as you took a look around his room. It was different than that of his room in the Umbrella timeline. First of all, this room was bigger than what your Ben had. It took you a moment to realize, but a wall must've been knocked down since half of this room was what used to be Viktor's in the old timeline. This Ben also had a poster of himself over his bed which is something your Ben definitely didn't. But the biggest difference was what covered the walls of the room. Instead of shelves of books and walls filled with notes, the walls were covered in art. Sketches, drawings, and a few watercolors were plastered across the space.

"I see why you're so upset about the painting." You said aloud "You're an artist this time."

"What do you mean this time?" Ben questioned irritated

"My Ben was more of a writer. He also read a lot. He just loved literature." You explained nostalgically "When he was alive we'd talk about the stories he was reading for hours. And after he passed I used to go into the courtyard where his memorial statue was and read his favorite books. I liked to think that he was on the other side listening and that neither of us was alone."

Ben went quiet upon hearing your response. Without even knowing it, you had stated the reason why he was so upset you burned the painting. Even though he hadn't met you until recently, he had enjoyed talking to your painting. He'd sit on the floor of your room describing his drawings and holding them up from time to time. Your smiling face in the painting was usually the only positive interaction he had, and just like you with the other Ben's statue, he liked to think you had been listening on the other side and that neither of you was alone.

Ben turned back around in his seat, facing his desk full of sketches once more as he tried to shove his feelings down. It was how he was taught to deal with difficulty. It was supposed to make him stronger according to his father, but usually, it just turned people away. He was difficult. At least that's what he had heard a lot from others before they left. He wasn't really sure if he knew any other way to be since no one stuck around to show him any different, but after years of people walking away from him, he was prepared for it to happen. And yet, he didn't want you to go. He wanted you to stay. Maybe instead of holding it in, he might just give it a try to say what's on his mind.

"Y'know you're wrong." Ben mentioned quietly "I'm not upset because I'm an artist."

"Why are you upset then?" You inquired

"Because that painting was the equivalent of your statue to me," Ben answered honestly

As the words left his mouth, you could feel your gut drop. You recalled how heartbroken you were when Luther and Diego broke Ben's statue. It was like killing your friend all over again, and now you had done the same to Ben. Sure you didn't know what it meant to him, but that wasn't a good enough excuse. You had seen him try to stop you and you kept going anyway. Oh god, what had you done?

"I'm so sorry, Benjamin." You apologized "I- I didn't think anyone cared about it."

"I did." Ben stated "But it's just a painting. I'll live."

"I'm still sorry, but we could make a new one. I see that your forte is drawing people." You commented trying to make things better

We? Ben was positive he had heard you correctly and you said we. Not he could make a new one. We could make a new one. Quickly, he turned around to look at you as he questioned,

"You can draw?"

Like everyone else you technically could draw, but when people asked 'can you do x thing?' they typically were asking if you could do that thing well. Your drawing skills were not on par with your piano, your dance, or your science abilities except for one instance and so you hesitantly responded,

"Uh...yes and no."

"I'm not sure I'm following." Ben replied confused

"The only things I can draw well are buildings and buildings interiors." You elaborated "But people, animals, plants- pretty much if it breaths I can't draw it."

"You were friends for years with an artist that my father deemed worthy enough to do all the portraits of the Sparrow Academy and you didn't pick up anything from him?" Ben questioned

His tone didn't sound condescending, but the question certainly did. Yes, you were friends with a talented and successful artist like Charlie, but that didn't mean it made you good as well. The only reason you could draw buildings and interiors was because that was a byproduct of your childhood. Maybe it wasn't his intention, but the question did make you feel bad as you looked at the art around his room.

"Uh, not particularly. While he would draw people or comic book characters I would be drawing rooms and buildings." You answered awkwardly "But with art of this quality that probably sounds pathetic to you."

Ben noticed your shift in demeanor. Had he upset you? He wasn't trying to. He was just curious. Jayme had always told him he had a tone issue though, but he never really understood what that meant until now. Trying to course correct Ben quickly shot back,

"No."

"No?" You hesitantly questioned

"Look around." Ben said gesturing to his art "You see any backgrounds?"

You looked around once more and he was right, there were no backgrounds it was all just people. All the faces were strangers to you though. Even with no backgrounds the skill he had in drawing people was still enough for you to doubt your own artistic ability. Art wasn't your main skill, you didn't practice it often like you did with your other talents, you just had muscle memory from copying your mom and enough upkeep to not permanently lose what you learned.

"You could still probably draw a better background than I could draw a portrait." You stated

"Is that a challenge?" Ben asked

What? A challenge? He thought your compliment was a challenge? How warped had Reginald made his worldview that not even a simple compliment could be accepted without the prospect of proving himself? While you knew it was probably a developed trait and maybe even a coping mechanism to hide some insecurity of his, it was still annoying and triggered your underlying competitive nature.

"No, I was actually trying to be nice to you since I had upset you, but fuck it, it's a challenge now." You remarked back "You draw me and the part of the room behind me and I draw you and the room behind you, and whoever has the better overall drawing wins."

While Ben felt awkward that he had misinterpreted your kindness as competition, he didn't mind this new outcome. He liked seeing the fire in your eyes about proving yourself. It reminded him of himself and he liked the feeling in his chest that he shared something with you.

"You're on." Ben replied, a smirk coming to his face

Turning back around he grabbed a sketchbook, flipping it to an open page before picking up a pencil and an eraser. Turning back around he extended it toward you for you to take. Once the items were in your grasp he stood from the desk chair grabbing another set of the same items before walking over to his bed and taking a seat. He watched as you pulled the desk chair closer to the bed and sat down on the seat across from him. Getting yourself settled, you looked toward him as you asked,

"Is there a time limit?"

"And rush the art?" Ben remarked back "No. Just draw until you're finished."

"Okay, jeez." You replied looking back down at the sketchpad "It was just a question..."

As you looked away, an awkward expression came to Ben's face. Did he really have that bad of a tone issue? He was just answering your question. Nevertheless, his attention turned toward his own sketchpad as the two of you began to draw.

The room was quiet as the both of you worked on your pieces, the only sound to be heard was that of pencils moving across sketchpads. Occasionally, each of you would look up from your papers, your gazes seemingly alternating as you both attempted to copy down the sight before you.

Drawing the room came easy to you. You had sketching the lines and angles of the bedroom and its objects down to a science. Every stroke of the pencil was intentional and the way you blended out the pencil marks in specific spots was methodic. You looked down at your hands and the dark graphite smudges covering your fingertips and softly smiled. Your hands looked like that of your mom's. Your mom the architect, the designer. Looking at your hands, it felt like a piece of her came back to life if only for a moment. But that moment was fleeting. Your drawing was nice to be sure, and if an average person saw it they'd probably be impressed, but it still wasn't close to the level of skill your mom had. And unfortunately, you'd never get to learn her tricks because she was gone.

Looking down at your drawing it was almost complete except for the blank oval in the middle of the page where you were supposed to draw Ben. You already knew this wasn't going to go well, but you still had to try. If there was ever a time for a hallucination version of Charlie to appear it was now, so he could give you advice on how to not fuck this up. But alas, he decided not to show so you were left to your own devices. Trying your best to remember what he would do, you started out with just a bunch of shapes in the general form of a body. Somehow, even though it was just shapes, it already looked bad. Your only hope was that by adding details it would somehow come together, so you started by drawing his polo shirt, his pants, and his hair.

And then you came to his face. You tried your best to capture his features, but with his head constantly being down looking at his paper all you could see was the right side of his face. Part of you wanted to draw an angry frowny face and call it a day but the detail-oriented part of you wouldn't let it happen. You saw as he looked up at you for a moment before turning his head back down, but in that moment you briefly caught sight of something on his left cheek. Leaning forward, you gently reached a hand out to try and tilt his face toward you, but the second your fingers brushed his skin Ben pulled back. With his gaze on you, you clearly saw what had caught your attention. It was a scar. Pulling your hand back slightly, you looked back at him waiting for him to say something.

But Ben didn't respond, he only looked at you shocked. The thing was, he wasn't shocked that you had touched him. Plenty of people had touched him before, whether it was his siblings in training, an enemy he was fighting, a persistent fan who just had to get their hands on him, or one of the girls at the clubs he would go to with Christopher, whose name he had forgotten right after they said it. He was no stranger to unexpected touch, but all those times it was aggressive, demanding, rough. But your touch, it was gentle.

No one had ever done that before...

"I just wanted to see it for my drawing." You said quietly

There was that sincerity in your tone again. Something about it made him pause and as his eyes darted over your face, he could see that your expression seemed almost worried, as if you were concerned you had scared him. You hadn't, at least not in the way you probably thought you did. It wasn't your action that had worked up his nerves, but the feeling he got from it. He felt fuzzy inside. Slowly, he leaned his face back toward your hand before hesitating. He wanted to feel your touch again, but for a moment his brain wondered if this was some type of scheme to catch him off guard. He looked at you once more, but your expression was the same worried look as you softly added,

"I wasn't gonna hurt you."

As you said those words Ben felt a twinge of...regret. It was an odd feeling since he had only felt this way a few times before, but the feeling was there. As your hand slowly began to pull back, he quickly leaned in, causing your fingertips to touch his scar once more.

You now looked at him shocked, your fingers pulling just centimeters away from his face, but quickly you realized what his action meant. It meant he trusted you. He trusted you wouldn't hurt him. It felt like a bit of a switch-up from the Ben you had interacted with thus far but, you were the type to reciprocate energy. If he was going to trust you a little, you could trust him back. Gently, you placed the tips of your middle and ring finger back on his cheek as you carefully traced his scar. Ben closed his eyes as your fingers brushed the permanent mark on his face. For once, he seemed calm. You wondered if he had ever actually felt calm before. You knew from the Umbrellas that the life of a Hargreeves was not one that knew peace, and with the way the Sparrows were you could only assume the concept of peace was even more foreign and warped to them. As you looked over his scar you wondered how he got it.

"Hmm." You hummed

"What?" Ben asked, his eyes opening back up to look at you

"It's odd." You stated, "We don't typically do this."

"We?" Ben questioned curiously

"I've found it's rare for people like us, people with powers, to have visible scars." You commented, "Whatever happened, it must've been pretty bad to leave a lasting mark."

Ben looked down as he recalled the circumstances in which he got his scar. Even years after it happened he tried not to remember that day given its significance, but he couldn't help it. The memory flashed in his mind like a cruel reminder of his greatest mistake.

"Yeah...it was bad." Ben mumbled, "I failed."

"Was it the Jennifer Incident?" You asked

Ben looked up at you, the traces of hurt he felt from his memory quickly dissipating as he looked at you confused.

"No? I don't even know a Jennifer." Ben stated before asking "What is that?"

You looked back at him nervously. You had assumed that his scar was a different result of whatever happened to your Ben in the Jennifer Incident. Your Ben died, but this one did something different and managed to make it out with only a scar. But obviously from his response that wasn't the case.

"(Y/N), what's the Jennifer Incident?" Ben asked again

"It's uh-" You hesitantly responded "It's how Ben died."

"What happened?" Ben pressed

Pulling your hand back from Ben's face, you sat back in your seat, looked at the floor for a moment, and let out a small sigh. And as you looked back up at him, he could see grief in your eyes, similar to the look you had when he first found you at the warehouse.

"That's the thing. I don't know. No one would tell me anything except that it was a tragedy." You explained sadly

You looked around Sparrow Ben's room. You had to look anywhere but at him. He had everything of your Ben's. His face, his voice, his name, and yet he was still practically a stranger. The worst part though was that even though he was a stranger in your friend's body, you could see flickers of your Ben in him. There was his care and concern somewhere in there. His sense of understanding peeked through the bars of the tough persona Sparrow Ben put on. But it was the way he listened to you, that reminded you of Ben the most. It was so easy the way you could just start rambling to your Ben, and he sat listening and engaged, and somehow this one was the same. He was listening when no one else was.

"I asked Diego a few times over the years thinking that it was my age that was the issue. Y'know, don't tell a traumatized thirteen-year-old how their friend died. But when I got the same script over and over, I kinda stopped asking." You continued

"Same script?" Ben questioned

As you thought back to those times you asked you could feel a mix of emotions build in you. There was the obvious grief remembering your friend who was gone, especially when you were sitting across from someone who shared his name, and face, and currently a part of his personality you missed. Then there was the frustration that you never learned what happened. And finally the anger at the response that you were always given.

"Yeah." You scoffed before reciting in a mocking tone "It was a tragic accident. Ben died because we failed as a team. Nobody was responsible yet we all were responsible. Ben Hargreeves represented the best of us. Ben was the Umbrella Academy."

Crossing your arms over your chest your eyes finally met Ben's once more. The amalgamation of your feelings reflecting on your face as you complained,

"It's a bunch of avoidant bullshit if you ask me."

You looked away again as silence took over the room. Your mind wandering away from thinking about Ben's death and instead focusing on Diego's resistance to tell you what happened. All the times you asked, he could've just stated what happened, but instead, he always recited the same stupid script. Your eyes moved to the floor and your voice was low as you broke the silence mentioning,

"I guess he never trusted me enough to tell me the truth..."

As Ben saw the change in your demeanor he could feel a tightness build in his chest. It was similar to the feeling he got when his Dad would reprimand the Sparrows after a mission, but not quite the same. There was that feeling of something wrong, but less in a disappointment way and more of a drive to do something. He wasn't particularly interested in having you reconcile with the Umbrellas, they were assholes and the less you wanted to be around them the more time you would spend with him. However, he still felt inclined to do something. Trying to change the subject, he switched back to the original topic as he inquired,

"So what about you?"

"What about me?" You asked confused, looking back at him

"So you don't have scars?" Ben asked

"Oh. Typically no." You answered before explaining "When I was sixteen I tore up the entire left side of my face. It was really bad, but by the next morning it was like it never happened."

"What happened?" Ben asked

"It was..." You began to speak

But then you stopped as you recalled that day, the memories playing in your mind like a bad movie. As you shut your eyes you could hear Diego and Eudora's voices shouting at each other. You could see the anger on their faces and the hurt in their eyes as the fought. A chill ran down your spine as you remembered the cold downpour of rain that washed over you are you rode your bike away from the scene and you winced as you recalled the pain of your face scraping against concrete.

Ben watched as you winced and your expression filled with pain. He already could tell that whatever you were remembering, it wasn't good. It was the same way he'd react to his bad memories before he started pushing down the feeling. Shit. He was trying to make you feel better, not worse. God, why was he so bad at trying to be good? You made it look so easy.

"Forget I asked." Ben quickly dismissed

Opening your eyes, you looked back at him as you tried to push the thoughts away.

"No, it's fine. It was...it was an accident." You finished answering before redirecting the conversation "But I mean, I do have these few scars from earlier when the Kugelblitz tore into me. They've already begun to heal over though."

You gestured toward the bandages that covered your gashes. Your injuries didn't sting much anymore, but when you moved the parts of your body they were on you could still tell they were there. Pulling the bandaging off your cheek you showed Ben the scar that was there. You watched as Ben reached his hand out slightly before pausing.

"Can I?" Ben asked

You nodded your head and Ben fully reached his hand out to trace your scar just as you had done to him. In a way, you were like him the way you were marked by a tragic event. Your scar was noticeable but faded like his, but while his scar curved downward yours went across your cheek. However, he had his scar for years while yours was apparently only acquired this morning and yet they were the same amount of healed. He wondered why others' injuries faded away so quickly while he was stuck with a constant reminder of his failure. Then again, was it actually easier to move on from a failure by having all reminders of that pain fade away quickly or would that lack of healing cause more pain in the long run? Either way, you both had been hurt by life and it seemed like neither of you was quite as healed as you liked to think you were.

"It's so faded." Ben commented

"Yeah," You responded "It'll be gone soon enough, like it never happened."

"But it did." Ben stated gently

You looked at him. His tone wasn't harsh when he said it, on the contrary, his tone was actually empathetic, but it hit you like a ton of bricks. It did happen. You may not physically bear your scars but they were there. These moments in time that had hurt you were real. They happened.

"It did." You said quietly

As Ben looked back at you, his expression was neutral, but you could almost see the corners of his mouth curve up as he mentioned,

"Well, until then it seems we're matching."

"Yeah, I guess we are" You replied before asking "Should we finish drawing?"

"Huh?" Ben said confused

"Should we finish drawing or have you given up on competing?" You taunted, gesturing to the sketchbooks in each of your laps

Ben looked down at his sketchbook before looking back at you. He had completely forgotten all about drawing, but as he heard the taunt in your tone his competitive spirit came back in full force.

"Absolutely not." Ben scoffed

"Then get drawing, Benjamin." You remarked as you picked back up your sketchbook

As your head tilted down to look back at your drawing, Ben picked his pencil and sketchbook back up and began to draw once more. Finishing the details of the wall behind you, he started to work on drawing you, but as he did so he noticed details he hadn't before. He noticed the way your hair fell around your face and how you kept having to push a particular strand out of the way. He noticed the way your eyebrows scrunched and how you bit your bottom lip when you were thinking about something. He noticed the way sunlight from the window fell on you giving you a golden glow. He noticed you. And so he drew what he saw, but it was a tedious process as he felt what he had created wasn't exactly right. He wanted the details he noticed to reflect on the page, but it took time and time again for him to feel what he had created was good enough. His poor eraser had been absolutely demolished between all the revisions he had made, but at a certain point, he finally felt happy with what he had created. And when he looked up from his sketchbook he saw you sitting there twirling your pencil between your fingers.

Seeing Ben look toward you, you assumed he was most likely done as you asked,

"Finished?"

"Yeah." He responded

"Alright then, you go first." You commented

You watched as Ben turned around his sketchbook to show you his drawing and when you saw it you were highly impressed. The background of his drawing wasn't quite as detailed or emphasized as yours was, but it certainly showed his skill for perspective. Where he really focused his detailing though was his drawing of you. It was quite different from drawings you had seen of yourself before. Most of them had been made by Charlie, and while he was a master of realism he typically drew you very stylized, like a comic book character. Ben's drawing however was somewhere in the middle, it wasn't quite one-to-one realism, but you could definitely tell that it was you. A very pretty version of you nonetheless.

"Wow, the only other person to ever draw me was Charlie,' You mentioned, "Your style is so different from his."

"Why? Is it bad?" Ben questioned

"No, it's amazing!" You replied enthusiastically "If only you could pursue art full-time. I think you'd really go far."

Ben paused a moment. He never really thought about life outside the Sparrow Academy. The Sparrow Academy was his everything. He was always told that his only responsibility was protecting the world so the thought of doing anything else seemed farfetched. Did you really think he could succeed at anything other than being a superhero?

"You think so?" Ben asked sincerely

"I know so." You stated confidently

It was odd. The confidence in your answer made Ben want to believe you, but believing you that he could succeed at something other than being a Sparrow meant that the last 29 years of his life were mostly a waste. And that was a thought he didn't want to confront. Pushing the topic away, Ben replied,

"Okay. Your turn."

"Right!" You exclaimed as you looked at your drawing

You looked at the details of the room you had drawn and you knew they would make your mom proud. Not that she ever wasn't proud of you, she always was, but knowing you were able to mimic her passion if only for a moment felt good. But then you looked at your drawing of Ben and...

Fuck.

He looked like a poorly drawn anime character...if you could even call it that. It was only comparable to when the Ouran High School Host Club characters were drawn with less detail to be funny. Except they had done that on purpose, and you, you definitely had not. Why did you let your competitive nature get the best of you? Why did you agree to this? You knew you couldn't draw people. This was a bad idea from the start. Granted the room you drew looked great, but the messy figure in the center really retracted from it. Letting out a defeated sigh you slowly turned the sketchbook around to show Ben and watched his face go through a journey as he looked at it.

"You're right. You are good at drawing rooms. The details are lifelike." Ben commented

You could tell his comment was genuine, but you could feel him holding back more thoughts. Surprised that he hadn't outright insulted your work, you prompted him to speak,

"But?"

"I don't look like that." Ben remarked flatly

"I told you I'm not good at drawing people!" You shot back defensively "I can only do backgrounds."

"And I said the background is good!" Ben responded, "It's just I've seen better art of myself before..."

"You know what?" You questioned snarkily "You wanna know what you really look like?"

"What do I really look like?" Ben inquired sarcastically

Angrily you flipped to the next page of the sketchbook as you quickly scribbled a drawing on it. It was not detailed in the slightest, but it was far more accurate.

"Like this." You stated

As you turned the notebook around, Ben saw your new drawing of him. It was a crudely drawn octopus with an angry frowny face. Ha ha. How clever.

"I definitely don't look like that." Ben replied unamused

"Yes, you do." You remarked playfully, as you held the drawing up next to his face "Your face is doing the same angry scrunch now."

"Whatever." Ben dismissed before asking "So if art is my thing, what's yours?"

"Well, I'm good at a lot of things."

"Well drawing people surely isn't on that list." Ben joked

"Shut up!" You snapped before calmly adding "But piano is the one I'm known for."

Ben recalled moments throughout his life when he heard mentions of your musical ability. He remembered a time when he and his siblings were pressing keys on the piano in the parlor, and when their father heard he stated they shouldn't even try to learn because it wouldn't compare to your ability. There were also the times when Pogo played his classical music records and would tell the Sparrows of his memories of you playing piano for him when he was a young chimp and how lovely the music was. Your ability to play piano was always described as something incredible and he always imagined being able to hear it himself.

"Oh, right." Ben commented "I bet you play beautifully,"

Ben paused. That was weird. Why did he say that? Trying to move away from it, Ben quickly added,

"So I've heard at least..."

"I can show you." You offered

"I'd like that." Ben replied gently

Your lips upturned into a small smile. You liked being around him a lot more when he was kind like this. It reminded you of Ben. Standing up from your seat you extended your hand out toward him.

Gently, he took your hand. He sat still for a moment letting the electricity of your touch flow through him. Your skin was soft and so was the way you held his hand. Ben felt as you pulled his hand closer to you, beckoning him to stand. Standing up he looked down at you, a tender smile on his face and he continued to hold your hand. It felt like a bright warmth surrounded the two of you as you stood together. However, just as soon as he was standing, your hand pulled away and as you turned to walk away, the warmth of being close to you faded. Although you couldn't see it, his smile dropped for a moment. He liked being close to you.

As you made it to Ben's bedroom doorway you turned back to look at him only to find that he wasn't following you. Weird. You thought you were going to show him your piano skills. Your head tilted slightly as you asked confused,

"Are we going to the piano together or not?"

Together.

Ben perked up at that word. His small smile returned as he walked over to you and replied,

"Absolutely. Let's go."

But while you made your way down to the parlor, Five was stuck in the lobby of the Hotel Obsidian. After everyone had left, Five had sat and waited at the bar for the time when Viktor would bring Harlan down for the trade with the Sparrows. Even with Viktor's rude comments earlier, Five could understand the difficulty of giving Harlan up. Viktor cared for him and while that was nice it definitely wasn't worth sending the entire world down the drain over. Harlan had apparently caused some difficulties to the point that the Sparrows were willing to work with the Umbrellas if Harlan was sacrificed. And so he had to be. There was no other way.

Sipping on another drink Five wondered where you were. You could've gone back to Kenny's house since you always mentioned in your diary that it was the main hangout spot for your group. But then again, that could be upsetting since there were so many memories there. Or perhaps you had gone back to your childhood home. It was completely empty given the fact that your parents never got a chance to meet in this timeline, but maybe there was still some comfort to be found there. Or you were somewhere that he couldn't even predict. Wherever you were he just hoped you were okay. He couldn't stop thinking about worst-case scenarios and all the ways he could lose you, especially after finding out his Commission Founder self failed to keep you alive.

Five could feel his heartbeat pick up slightly as the words his Founder self had written began to run through his mind once more. Rolling up his sleeve he looked at the phone number on his arm. You told him to only call in an emergency. Did his worry for you, his need to hear your voice and know you're alive, constitute an emergency? Currently, nothing was wrong.

Except for him.

He felt like his head was being pulled in a million different directions. The apocalypse. Witnessing his death. Your safety. His siblings' antics. Trading Harlan. Anticipating what comes next. The challenges he faced, the worlds he kept creating and erasing in his mind, they were exhausting. It felt like he didn't even have a moment to spare for himself. A moment to think. A moment to breathe. Every time he got one of those they immediately slipped away. All he did was survive and even then, another version of him didn't make it. Would he?

Five tried to push the thought from his mind. He couldn't question it, he had to survive. He had to survive for the same reason he always did. You. Carefully, he pulled the ring he had found out of his pocket. Trying to calm himself, Five looked at the ring in his palm and envisioned a life of mundane joys with you. Grocery shopping, taxes, household chores, taking a walk in the park. God, it seemed so nice. If he had one hope, one wish, it was to be able to live a simple life with you. His mind wandered to thoughts of better days and simple times by your side, but his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Luther asking,

"Viktor come by yet?"

Pulled from his thoughts, Five looked up as he saw Luther walking toward the bar. Quickly, he shoved the ring back into his pocket. The last thing he needed was Luther seeing it and asking him questions.

"Oh- uh- no." Five replied trying to collect himself "Not yet."

"Well, I'm sure they'll come around soon." Luther stated as he finally reached the bar

Five nodded his head at Luther's statement, but did not have much of a response to add. His head was still trying to switch gears from thinking about you to thinking about the apocalypse again. There was a silence between the two brothers as they stood by the bar together. It wasn't particularly awkward, but it wasn't enjoyable either.

Luther looked around at the space. Just mere hours ago he had gained and then lost a son and then was told that he didn't know what family meant and that he was a selfish, stunted adult. So far, today was not great. Your words had stuck with him though. Did he know what it meant to actually be a family? Had the Umbrella Academy ever really been a family to each other? There was only one period of time where he truly felt connected to his siblings and that was when everyone was the same age and they had you as a friend. Your words were hurtful, but were they true?

"Hey, Five?" Luther asked breaking the silence

"Hmm?" Five hummed in response

"Do you...do you think what (Y/N) said is true?" Luther hesitantly questioned

"Be more specific." Five replied, "She said a lot of stuff to a lot of people."

"The whole family thing..." Luther quietly replied, "You think she's right?"

"Well, I never think she's wrong." Five stated

Five's response wasn't what Luther was looking for. He wanted more of an explanation of why you would think that, and to his knowledge, no one knew you better than Five. He waited a moment to see if Five would elaborate, but when no elaboration came Luther pried harder,

"Yeah but like we are a family, aren't we?"

"In namesake I suppose." Five responded flatly

"What about beyond that?" Luther pressed "Y'know connection wise? We're siblings aren't we?"

"We are." Five answered before adding "But if what she said bothers you this much that means some part of you believes she might be right."

Luther shifted uncomfortably as guilt began to grow inside him. The feeling settled in his gut as he was forced to confront the reality of his relationships with his siblings and the way he treated them. And you.

"Maybe..." Luther replied, his voice low "I just...I don't understand what the difference is between her definition and ours."

While Luther may have forgotten what the difference between you and his siblings was, Five never forgot. That difference was what kept him going in his darkest of times. And if the truth of this difference would get Luther to reflect on himself rather than trying to get some type of relief for his cognitive dissonance out of Five then he needed to hear it.

"The difference is love, Luther." Five explained seriously, looking him dead in the eyes "We were raised on conditions and achievements and outcomes, but she was raised with unconditional love. We expect results from each other, her only expectation is to be loved back."

As he heard those words, Luther went quiet. His mind replaying moments with you from across his life. He recalled how nice you were when you were both children and the way you'd listen to his interest in space and encourage him to talk about it more. You constantly told him you were proud of him while his father never even uttered those words once. When Luther was happy, you were happy. He then thought about how you had acted when you were different ages. If he was cold to you, you were cold to him, and if he was kind so were you. You always gave back what you were given, but even so, you were still willing to help. You still cared. You always cared. But, besides Five and until recently Diego, they treated you like some type of stepping stone. You were a means to an end. There was no question about it...

You were right.

You had loved them and they just used you. They used each other. If they weren't a family then what were they to each other? What is family anyway? However, before the thought could eat at him more, Klaus sauntered up to the bar to join him and Five. Looking between his brothers, Klaus asked,

"What are we hanging around here for again?"

"Viktor and Harlan." Five responded, "Remember?"

"Oh right." Klaus recalled

Reaching over the bar, Klaus grabbed himself a drink before hopping on the bar top and sitting crisscross on it. A silence fell over the three Hargreeves brothers as they waited for Viktor, but it didn't last long as the ding of the elevator rang through the empty lobby. The trio looked out at the lobby and watched as Viktor began to walk past the bar. Seeing Viktor, Five walked away from the bar with Luther close behind.

"Hey." Five gently called out "It's time."

Hearing Five's voice, Viktor stopped in place. For the past few hours, he had been working out this plan to get Harlan to safety, but through it all he had forgotten to come up with what he was going to say. Freezing up, he could only stare at his brothers in silence.

Not seeing him with Viktor, Five looked back toward the elevators for where Harlan could be. He was an old man after all, he couldn't be far. But as he glanced at the back part of the lobby no one was there. Looking back at Viktor, Five asked confused,

"Where's Harlan?"

Still not knowing what to say, Viktor bluntly stated,

"He's gone."

Hearing those words, Luther immediately knew what had happened. It was honestly stupid of him and the rest of his siblings to think Viktor would do anything other than this. And in a way, this proved your point from earlier even more to Luther. You said they only cared to help each other when they needed something and that they were all selfish. Once again, you were right.

"You let him go, didn't you?" Luther stated

Realizing what was going on, Five looked at Viktor a mix of shock and disappointment on his face. How could Viktor do this? He was risking the sake of the world and the safety of everyone left in it for one insignificant person. This trade was supposed to be their entry into accessing the Kugelblitz and Viktor selfishly threw it away. If the Kugelblitz continued who knew what could happen to people? Who knew what could happen to you. Frustrated, Five turned his back to Viktor. He couldn't stand to look at him right now.

Viktor however was not of the same mindset. He knew his siblings would be upset, but it wasn't worth it to him to trade Harlan to the Sparrows.

"Harlan's death is not gonna stop the Kugelblitz. It's just gonna be another tragedy on a tragedy, and we can find another..." Viktor immediately defended "I will find another way."

"Well, congratulations, Viktor." Luther retorted "You managed to destroy everything. Again."

To Luther, your point of view was becoming ever more clear, and if there was any love between the Hargreeves siblings there certainly wasn't a visible amount of it. And just like you, he didn't want to be here anymore. He'd far rather spend his time with someone who actually cared about his feelings. Sloane. With an annoyed shake of his head, he walked off toward the front doors and out of the hotel.

Five watched as Luther walked away and for only a moment turned to look back at Viktor. He didn't have many words to say, but one thought did linger.

"I really thought you were smarter than that." Five said disappointed

With a roll of his eyes, Viktor silently walked off. Taking a few steps forward, Five watched as Viktor walked out the doors leaving the hotel. And then there were two. From behind him, Five could hear as Klaus sarcastically commented,

"Well! That went great!"

Five knew that Klaus' comment was sarcastic in nature, but it didn't stop the disappointment at how unfortunate this was. With one person's decision their whole entry into saving the world, again, was gone. Five wished that for once his siblings wouldn't stall or roadblock saving the world, but unfortunately, it seemed that was not something they were capable of. And while he already agreed with your opinion on his family, this just made him empathize with it more. Slowly turning around, he saw as Klaus took an actual seat at the bar rather than on it and reached for a nearby bottle of vodka. Feeling confused and defeated Five made his way over to the bar and sat in the seat next to Klaus. He watched as his brother grabbed two shot glasses and poured heavy-handed drinks into them.

"There." Klaus stated, sliding one of the glasses over to Five

"Thanks." Five replied

Today was a mess. Granted, most days of his life were a mess, but somehow today felt so much worse. He found out he created the Commission to save you, he found out that he was unsuccessful and you died, he watched you get torn apart by the Kugelblitz and lose all your friends, he watched your relationship with the rest of his siblings dissolve and you walk away from the Hargreeves family. And while all of those distressed him there was something about facing his own mortality that truly haunted him. Seeing his death forced him to confront his failures. If that version of him went to so many lengths to save you and the world and yet he still died old and alone, where did that leave him?

"I saw my future self die." Five mentioned quietly

"That's crazy. Almost the exact same thing happened to me." Klaus explained "But I didn't die, but I did, but..."

"He told me not to save the world. And then he died." Five spoke at the same time as Klaus

"I don't know..." Klaus added

"What do you think he meant by that?" Five questioned

Hearing each other's statements the two of them looked at each other with slight confusion.

"Well, shouldn't you know?" Klaus asked

"Shouldn't you know about your-" Five began to ask back

However, as he saw Klaus raise his shot glass he realized it wasn't worth it to ask and dropped the topic. Picking up his shot glass he gestured it toward his brother as he said,

"Salut."

"Well, up your ass." Klaus chimed back

Five shot Klaus a look as Klaus downed his shot, but instead of lifting his own glass up to his lips Five instead let some of his thoughts tumble out. Typically, he would tell you these things, but since you were gone he needed someone to listen to him.

"Klaus, I've dedicated my entire life to stopping the apocalypse. Apocalypses, plural. And he tells me..."

"Mm-hmm?" Klaus encourages

"That it's... it's, what? It's meaningless?" Five questioned aloud as he continued explaining

"Oh, well, I don't know anything- " Klaus mentioned as he refilled his shot glass

"Maybe that's his way of saying not to become him, but..." Five trailed off

Letting out a heavy sigh, Five finally downed his shot of vodka. Maybe the alcohol could help him feel better, but he doubted it. It numbed his pain, but it never made it go away. The only thing that could truly make him forget about his pain was you.

"Oh, you're really messed up about this, huh?" Klaus commented

He was more than messed up about it, he was pretty much wrecked by it. His founder self had failed his mission and died, and now here he was on the same path practically doomed to repeat history if he didn't find some type of way to change things soon.

"I've cheated time so much, I guess I just figured I'd somehow cheat death." Five elaborated "But it turns out, I die alone as a one-armed nightmare inside a bureaucratic hellscape of my own design."

"Spoiler alert!" Klaus exclaimed trying to lighten the mood

Five didn't pick up on it though as he was still stuck in his own head. Reaching into his suit pocket he pulled out the tattooed piece of skin he had cut off his Founder self, placed it on the bar, and remarked,

"Not to mention the trashy tattoo."

"Is this your skin?" Klaus asked intrigued as he poked at the cut flesh

"I'll be damned if I go out with an old man tramp stamp." Five retorted

"If you don't wanna end up like this guy, why don't you just do something completely different?" Klaus suggested enthusiastically "Completely different- Move upstate, lose your virginity, become an alpaca farmer. I think (Y/N) would like alpacas."

Five thought about what Klaus had said. He could do something different. And living on a farm with you did sound pretty nice. Just doing anything with you besides the apocalypse sounded nice.

"Yeah, I could. The timeline's malleable. We've proven that much. I could try and break the cycle, but-" Five began to reply before cutting himself off and asking "Wait what was that second part?"

"Don't worry about it. You'll get there on your own." Klaus reassured, "Listen, just keep your arms and extremities away from sharp objects, and don't join the Mothers of Agony."

"What?" Five asked confused

"The tattoo." Klaus explained, "It's the symbol of the biker gang, the Mothers of Agony."

Picking up his Founder self's skin he looked at the symbol tattooed onto it again as he questioned,

"You know them?"

"Like two timelines ago, they were...how do I put it?" Klaus elaborated "My farmacistas."

Finding this out, the wheels in Five's head began to turn. He may have lost access to the Kugelblitz, but maybe someone in the Mothers of Agony could help him out. If his Founder self had been marked with their symbol it meant there was at least one person there who could give him some insight on how to fix this mess. Rolling the tattooed skin up, he placed it back in his pocket as he stated,

"This is good."

Five began to step away from the bar, but before he could get too far he realized he had no clue where the Mothers of Agony were. Turning on his heel he looked at Klaus again who was already pouring himself another shot.

"Wait..." Five asked, "Where are they located?"

"Corner of Morgan and Grove Street." Klaus answered, "Pretty hard to miss with all the bikes outside."

"Thank you, Klaus."

Leaving Klaus behind at the bar Five quickly blinked outside the hotel. Rushing to the sidewalk he stuck out his hand and hailed an oncoming cab. Before the cab even came to a full stop Five had already opened the door and sat in the back seat. Slamming the door behind him, he looked at the cab driver and said,

"Morgan and Grove. Quickly."

Turning to look at who had just gotten into his car and requested a ride to the intersection of Morgan Street and Grove Street, the cab driver gave Five a once-over look. He was slightly confused as to why this finely dressed young man wanted to go to an unwelcoming biker bar such as the Mothers of Agony, but he didn't care enough to ask. With a shrug of his shoulders, the cab driver faced forward again and began to head toward the destination as Five headed to his next clue in the puzzle of saving the world.

While Five was headed off to his next destination, you had already made it to yours. Like usual the parlor of the Academy was empty. For something that was supposed to be the fancy equivalent of a living room it sure always felt dead in there. But off in the corner, you saw a familiar sight of the grand piano you'd play. As you walked over to it, Ben seemed to linger a few paces behind, but that wasn't really something you were focused on. Approaching the piano, you could see the lid was closed and covered in dust. How long had it been since someone touched this? Had it sat silent all these years? Wiping the dust away, you opened the lid and ran your fingers over the keys, not pressing any of them yet and instead admiring the feeling. There was something comforting about feeling the keys beneath your fingertips. Perhaps it was the familiarity, but as you continued to caress the ivories, your hand stopped at one specific key. You hovered over it for a moment, but with one press a single G note echoed through the parlor. From the corner of your eye, you could see Ben's head snap to look toward the piano, and as you turned to look at him a smirk came to your face.

"I see someone had an emo phase." You remarked playfully

"Emo phase? I don't even know what that is." Ben replied defensively

Instead of responding to him though you went back to playing the intro keys to Welcome to the Black Parade but stopped before the final note. Looking back over at Ben you saw panic form on his face.

Ben knew that if he corrected you, you would know that you were right, but at the same time, it was practically disrespectful for you not to play the song's intro in full. He tried to hold back and keep himself from correcting you, knowing that's what you wanted, but the frustration of the incomplete intro was too much as he demanded,

"Play the last note!"

"Ha! I knew it!" You exclaimed

You saw as Ben rolled his eyes as you played the final note of the intro and released him from his turmoil. Although now you were going to have to deal with his annoyance at finding him out.

"So is that all you know how to play?" Ben deflected

"Benjamin, do you realistically think that's all I know how to play?" You questioned rhetorically

"No." Ben answered

"Exactly." You stated, "Now, you can either continue sulking that I found out you actually might have some music taste or you come over here and listen to me play like you said you would."

Ben looked at you for a moment, watching as you pulled out the piano bench and sat down. You were worming your way further and further into his brain and he wasn't sure what to do about it. He wasn't against it, and he wasn't really fighting it at this point anymore, but it was still a little scary how you did it with such ease. Softly, you began to play the sound of an ambling melody as Ben finally walked over to you. Sitting down next to you on the piano bench he heard as you asked,

"Any requests?"

In that moment it was as if his mind went blank and he had never listened to any music in his entire life. He could say Welcome to the Black Parade, but he'd probably never hear the end of it from you if he did. With nothing else coming to mind he answered,

"Uh no, you pick."

"Oh, there's so many choices. Classical, musicals, modern piano covers..." You rambled as you tried to think

And then it hit you. The perfect song to fill this lackluster house with some vibrance.

"Have you ever seen Howl's Moving Castle?" You asked Ben

"No, what's that?" He responded curiously

"It's a beautiful animated movie. The story is touching, the art is incredible and the music, the music is iconic." You explained "The song I'm gonna play is from that movie. Now, it won't quite be the same without the strings, but I'll make it work and hopefully, you'll still like it."

"If you're as good as people say you are, then I'm sure I will." Ben replied

"I am." You stated confidently

A smirk came to Ben's face at your response. He liked your confidence. It was one of the many things he was starting to admire about you.

Looking down at the piano you took a breath and placed your hands on the starting keys and after a moment of silence, you began to play Merry-Go-Round of Life. Slowly, the beginning of the piece flowed through the Academy, it's enchanting sound filling the silent halls. Closing your eyes you embraced the nostalgic feeling you got from the song, and as it approached the first string part you used your powers to press more keys than your hands cover making it so that both the piano and what was technically the string portion could be heard.

But as you moved through the piece, duetting with yourself and bringing life to the joyless building, you could hear the sound of strings playing in your head. Specifically, you could hear the familiar sound of a viola playing the string portion of the song. Opening your eyes you look up and past the piano and there she was, Viktoria, standing there with a smile as she played her viola along with you. As you looked off to the left, you saw the rest of your friends, including Charlie, sitting on the couches happily listening to you play. You knew in your head that they weren't there, but for a moment you'd let your heart believe they were. A small, bittersweet smile came to your face as you let the music flow through you and played in honor of the friends you lost.

Ben listened in awe as the gorgeous melody of the song filled the air. Even though you were playing one instrument it was almost like he was hearing a whole orchestra given how many parts you were playing at once. As the music danced through the room, and Ben watched you perform with all your talent he could feel emotion build up in him, but once again he couldn't find the words to describe it. But he could feel it. The feeling was warm and made his chest feel tight and his stomach do flips. He didn't think about it much though as he focused his attention on you.

That was until he saw something move up above the two of you. Looking up toward the balcony above the parlor, Ben could see his three remaining siblings standing there listening to you play. Sloane smiled with a dreamy look on her face, Fei stood leaning slightly over the balcony railing as she watched intently, and Christopher slightly swayed to the music. And as the song crescendoed their awestruck reactions reflected Ben's own feelings as he knew they were recalling the same memory he had of their father from when they were children. But now hearing you play, Ben knew their father was right, your abilities were beyond compare. Even if they tried none of them would've ever gotten to your level of talent.

Swaying with the music, you closed your eyes and played with all the emotion you had in you. You put your entire heart into the piece, at least all that was left of it. And as the song came to its end you opened your eyes once more and saw all of your friends were gone. You could feel slight tears prick your eyes as your moment of peace slipped away, and you were reminded of the fact that they weren't there to begin with and they never would be again. All you had left were the phantom versions in your mind that both helped and hurt you each time they appeared. As you lifted your hands from the keys and placed them in your lap you heard Ben compliment,

"That was amazing,"

"Thank you." You responded softly

Ben could hear the hint of sadness in your tone. It was faint and perhaps if he wasn't paying so much attention he would've missed it. Nevertheless, it was there.

"What's wrong?" Ben inquired

Looking away from your lap and toward Ben you could see the concern on his face and you heard the care in his tone. You didn't expect him to notice such a small change in demeanor but it was nice. It was familiar.

"I'm fine, it's just a memory." You recalled "My friend Viktoria and I would duet the song together. She played viola so she'd take the string parts while I'd play the piano. I heard her playing in my mind, but I know she's not here."

He looked down at the ground as he felt a pit forming in his stomach. Two floors below you was where the black hole that took your friends and tore you apart was, but you had no clue because it wasn't actively giving off a wave. Part of him didn't want to tell you about it. He was finally having positive interactions with you, and he worried if you found out that this whole time the thing that had hurt you was right beneath your feet and he hadn't told you, there was a chance that those would stop. Then again you'd probably find out at some point either through your powers, his siblings, or your annoyingly persistent...boyfriend. Perhaps it was better if he told you. At least then he could say he was honest with you. looking over at you Ben called,

"(Y/N)?"

"Yeah?" You replied

"I want to show you something." Ben stated

You looked at him slightly confused. You had come down here to play the piano and now he wanted to go somewhere else? Seeing your hesitation, Ben added,

"It's important."

There was sincerity in his tone and you could see the serious look on his face. If it meant this much to him then you might as well see what it was. Nodding your head you replied,

"Okay."

"Follow me." Ben said, gesturing out of the parlor

Standing up from the piano, you closed the lid before following him out of the room. As you walked through the Academy, you made your way down the stairs, past the kitchen, and to the basement door. You looked at Ben concerned as he opened the door and began to walk down the stairs. What the hell was in the basement that was so important to show you? Cautiously, you followed him down the stairs and when you reached the bottom landing you could see a bright light glowing behind a wall down the corridor. You followed behind Ben as he walked toward the glowing light and as you rounded the corner you finally saw what he wanted to show you. You stood there in shock as you took in the sight of a bright burning orb floating in the air. It rippled and flared like a miniature sun and yet it wasn't really affecting anything right now.

"Benjamin...is that..." You began to question hesitantly

"The black hole? Yeah." He responded, "I thought you might want to know given well...y'know."

You looked at the orb silently. This thing had been the cause of most of your pain recently, both physically and emotionally. It was a danger to your existence and was continuously tearing apart your life. And yet as you, one anomaly, looked at another anomaly, you couldn't help be be slightly enthralled. You were born out of nothing and felt everything, and this black hole was born out of everything and felt nothing. The world was a sucker for balance and you and the Kugelblitz were opposite sides of the same coin.

Carefully, you walked closer to it. You knew it couldn't hurt you right now, as you described it to Ben, it was Schrodinger's energy, but you wanted to understand it more. As you stood about a foot away from it, you brought your powers to the forefront, rather than letting them linger idly in the background. With your back turned to Ben, your eyes glowed blue, and for a moment, it felt like nothing, but as you honed in a little more you could feel the potential energy of lying underneath the surface of the Kugelblitz. It reminded you of a pot of boiling water with a lid on top. From the outside, there wasn't really much feeling, but inside there was so much more going on. You could make out the feeling of the microbursts of energy beneath the calm surface and the way those bursts created more pressure inside. It scared you a little, how you were currently safe, but you knew that wouldn't last forever. Due to the "lid" it couldn't hurt you now, but the minute the Kugelblitz boiled over, it was gonna hurt again. And it was going to hurt a lot.

Slightly, you raised your hand toward the Kugelblitz to "feel" it better, but the moment you did so Ben grabbed your hand and pulled you back. But he was only able to hold on for a second before a rush of overwhelming pain coursed through his system causing him to drop to his knees. He grabbed at his head that now loudly pulsed as he let out a groan.

Your eyes reverted to normal as you returned your powers to the background. Turning around you looked down at Ben, as you reprimanded,

"Don't do that. Do you know how dangerous it is to touch me when I'm using my full abilities?"

"Do you know how dangerous it is to touch that thing?" He shouted "And what do you mean full abilities?! What the hell was that!"

"Literally the weight of the world. You just felt everything around us." You shouted back "My powers have an active and an idle mode. You could've killed yourself grabbing me when they're fully active like that!"

With his pain subsided Ben stood up from the floor and approached you. A look of frustration covered his face as he yelled,

"And you could've killed yourself if that thing decided to flare out! I was trying to protect you!"

You didn't shout back. Instead, you stayed quiet as you looked at him and in doing so you noticed something. The expression on his face that you thought was frustration wasn't actually such. It was concern. Genuine concern. yes, he had looked at you slightly concerned earlier in the day, but those times it still felt like he was trying to somewhat hide it behind some tough exterior. This, however, was out in the open. He was concerned and he wasn't hiding it...kind of like a friend would do.

"Okay." You responded calmly "It's an intriguing phenomenon, but I'll be more careful around it."

Ben paused. He felt good knowing you wouldn't get so close to the black hole but was confused by the fact that you weren't yelling back anymore. When he got into arguments with other people they just kept yelling until one person walked away, but you didn't walk away, you just stopped. It didn't feel like you relented either, you just calmed down and agreed. Was that normal for people? Because to him it felt...out of place. Not really knowing how to respond now, Ben replied,

"Oh. Okay."

You waited for him to say something else, but when nothing came you looked away from him and at the Kugelblitz once more. Ben mimicked your action and the two of you stood silently as you watched the glowing ball ripple. This was it, huh? The thing that was going to destroy everything.

"So does it hurt?" Ben asked breaking the silence "Feeling everything all the time?"

"It used to when I was really little, but not anymore." You replied "Well, except if Viktor uses his powers too much or that thing explodes. Then it hurts like a bitch."

"That sounds terrible." Ben remarked

Your powers weren't terrible, only the painful experiences that were a side effect of them. You loved your powers, they were an integral part of who you were and how you lived. Even when your abilities were idle you still felt everything and it was like the world was singing to you. For as long as you could remember the world was full of life and song and there was nothing you would trade that for.

"No. Excluding those exceptions, it's actually really beautiful. Everything has its own little hum and it's like a symphony that plays just for me." You answered, "What would be terrible is if it all went silent."

Your answer intrigued Ben. He certainly never considered his powers to be something beautiful. Until he learned to control his powers he found them to be mostly a burden, not that he would tell anyone that. And even now, they might not be a burden but there certainly wasn't anything beautiful about eldritch tentacles from a portal in his gut. If he could choose between his power or yours, he'd probably pick the versatile, deadly, and apparently beautiful one you seemed to possess.

"So what do your powers sound like?" Ben asked

"Oh well, it's less of a sound and more of a feeling. But it's like a loud feeling. Kinda like being next to a giant speaker-" You began to explain before cutting yourself off and saying "Actually, it would be easier to just show you."

Ben saw as you stuck out your hand toward him and looked at it hesitantly. He was interested in your offer, but not the associated pain that came with it. While it might not hurt you, it sure as hell hurt him and he wasn't sure if he was willing to experience that again.

Seeing his hesitation you could easily assume it was from the immense pain he had experienced only moments ago. Given that experience, he had every right to be hesitant, but you tried to ease his mind adding,

"It won't hurt this time, I promise."

Not getting a response from him though you extended your hand slightly closer to him as you asked,

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes." Ben replied gently, taking your hand

The word had come out of his mouth before he had even realized he said it. It had rolled off his tongue as if he had answered that question a thousand times before. The word came to him so easily, easier than it ever had before. Trust was a complex concept for him. The only person he truly trusted was himself. Even his trust for his siblings and father was conditional although some more conditional than others. And yet, as he looked at his hand holding yours, there wasn't a double in his mind that he trusted you without condition.

"Good. Now if you get lightheaded let me know. My friends didn't and they all passed out when I did this with them." You mentioned, "Also, if it starts to feel like your bones are vibrating out of your skin don't freak out, that's normal."

Ben's head snapped up from looking at his hand holding yours, as he quickly questioned,

"Wait what."

However, you did not hear his question though as you had already started bringing your power to the forefront more. The symphony of the world grew louder as you focused on emphasizing your abilities enough for Ben to feel them, but not to the point where it would hurt him. You were the only person who was cut out for fully feeling all that existed. Granted, it wasn't really a choice in the beginning, but it certainly was now and you wouldn't put that on another person unless they deserved it. As you slowly increased your focus you could feel the rhythmic hum of everything around you come together like an orchestra playing a song. Closing your eyes you peacefully embraced the feeling of it all and it was beautiful.

Ben however was trying to process feeling like his bones were going to vibrate out of his skin. You said that this was normal, but it certainly didn't feel it. As for his prior thought of wanting to switch powers with you, he immediately took that thought back. His heart was racing. Was he going to die? This was terrifying. More terrifying than his powers were before he learned to control them. How was this beautiful? But as he wondered if this would be over soon he heard you calmly say,

"Feel it, don't fight it."

He looked over at you. Your eyes were still closed and you looked peaceful as you took steady breaths in and out. He didn't know if he could stop fighting the feeling of his skeleton hatching from under his skin, but he was the one who agreed to this so he could try. For you. Closing his eyes as well, he mimicked your steady breathing as he tried to feel the same way you felt. For a moment it still felt like his insides were going to come out, but then the sensation changed.

Instead of one overwhelming vibration, it splintered off into a bunch of smaller ones. It felt less like an explosion and more like a blanket that surrounded him. Some of the vibrations were faster, and some slower, and yet they all came together in a coordinated way. And then he heard it. The loud hum you were talking about. You were right it was less of a sound than it was a feeling, but the longer he embraced it the more he understood your point. The way every feeling came together, it was like a symphony. It was your symphony and it was incredible. Opening his eyes, he looked over at you.

There was a peaceful smile on your face as the glow of the black hole reflected off your skin and as you held his hand he could feel that electric feeling rush through him again. And for a moment it felt like he couldn't breathe.

"I think I'm getting lightheaded." He stated

"Oh, that's enough for you then." You replied concerned

Quickly, and to Ben's internal disappointment, you pulled your hand away from him and put your powers on the back burner again. Looking over at him, you smiled as you commented,

"It's pretty right?"

"Very." He replied

Before you could say anything else, your stomach growled loudly and you could feel how empty it was. Huh. You were so distracted by the events of the day you totally forgot that you needed to eat.

"Hungry?" Ben asked

"Yeah. I haven't eaten since this morning." You replied

"Well, there's a diner a few blocks away." Ben suggested

"They got coffee?" You asked

"It's a diner, of course they do." Ben answered

"Alright, let's go then." You said

You took one last look at the Kugelblitz. You knew this thing, this frightening, intriguing anomaly, would be the cause of your demise, but you might as well make the most of the time you had left. And so ignoring the facts in front of you, you followed Ben out of the basement and back upstairs to go grab food at a diner. But as the two of you walked into the foyer to exit, you saw as Luther walked in the front door with Sloane. Whatever positive feelings you had just a moment ago quickly faded as you saw him. Your anger and annoyance came back in full swing as you watched him finally notice you. Part of you wanted to just turn invisible and walk outside the door, but the last thing you needed was Luther or Sloane stopping Ben because you walked out. Perhaps the two of you could get by them without an interaction. That thought was quickly disproven though as Luther awkwardly greeted,

"(Y/N). Hey."

"Luther." You deadpanned

It was obvious that you were still upset about earlier, and reflecting on it rightfully so. Granted, Luther hoped more of that anger was directed toward Diego although Luther did bear some fault. Trying to smooth things over, Luther began to explain,

"Listen about what I said-"

However, Ben could sense your annoyance. You didn't even like the Umbrella Academy members. You didn't want to see them, let alone talk to them. But beyond your annoyance, Ben could feel his annoyance grow too. You and him were supposed to be going to get dinner together and Luther had the audacity to stop you guys? Stepping forward, Ben cut off harshly,

"Does it look like she wants to talk to you?"

"Huh?" Luther replied, looking at Ben confused

You didn't want to do this. You didn't want to talk to Luther. Truly you didn't want to talk to any of the Umbrellas except Five, of course. He was the only one you weren't upset at because he was the only one who actually cared about you. And this attitude that Ben was having about the situation wasn't desirable either. Sure, it was nice that he was supporting you, but you didn't need him to fight your battles. Especially when there really wasn't a battle to be had. Trying to avoid the situation, you walked past Luther to the front door as you called back,

"Benjamin, let's just go."

Ben gave Luther a dirty look before relenting and beginning to follow behind you, but right as you opened the front door you heard Luther call out,

"(Y/N) I'm so sorry about Lucas."

"Who's Lucas?" Sloane asked

"Our son." Luther answered

"What?" Sloane questioned confused

"I'll explain later." Luther said before repeating "(Y/N) I'm sorry about Lucas."

And this was exactly why you didn't want to talk to any of the Umbrellas except Five because unlike him, they didn't get it. They didn't understand your pain, your grief, your anger. And they surely didn't understand that their apologies meant nothing now that it was already too late. Wasting your time with Ben was a decent distraction, but you still could feel that heavy, twisting feeling in your gut knowing that your loved ones were forcibly taken from you and there was nothing you could've done about it. You could feel emotion begin to build up inside you. Lucas spent his whole life through the good and the bad looking up to Luther and this is all he got in the end? A simple apology after he was already gone. Looking back over your shoulder at Luther, you tried your best to keep yourself together as you replied,

"Don't talk about him like you cared."

And with that, you walked out the door leaving Luther and Sloane behind.

"(Y/N)..." Luther called sadly

"Leave her alone." Ben remarked back as he stood in the doorway "Hasn't your family fucked up enough already?"

Luther wondered what Ben's deal was, but before he could try to inquire, Ben walked out the door pulling it shut behind him. Walking out the front gates of the academy, he made his way over to where you stood on the sidewalk.

"You okay?" Ben asked

"Yeah, just caught off guard." You responded collecting yourself "I wasn't ready to face any of them yet."

"I can kick him out of the Academy if you want." Ben mentioned, "After all, it's our home, not his."

"Eh, it's not worth it." You rejected before stating "Let's just go eat."

And so the two of you walked away from the Academy and around the block to the diner

At this point, day had turned to night and a cool breeze blew down the city streets. The silence and the lack of life were even more evident at night compared to earlier in the day. It was eerie, but more so it was sad. As you rounded the corner of the block, you saw up ahead the place Ben was talking about. The neon sign might've said Greta's Diner, but you recognized the building immediately. It was Griddy's. Or at least it would've been if you were in the right timeline. You paused for a moment looking at the building as Ben continued to walk ahead. However, after a few paces, he stopped and looked back at you calling,

"Come on."

Picking up your pace, you caught up to him as the two of you made it to the building. Opening the door you stepped inside and took in the surroundings, getting hit by a wave of nostalgia as you realized they were the exact same. The layout, the color scheme, the entire vibe, it was all identical.

"Well, this is the place." Ben stated before asking "Where do you want to sit? Booth? Counter?"

You looked around the place as memories rushed back to you. You remembered a few times with your friends, crowding the seven of you into one booth to enjoy some late-night pastries. There were the times when Eudora would take you here for a quick breakfast before dropping you off at school. And then there were the most important memories of this place. Your times with Five. You remembered sitting at the counter next to him on the day he returned back into your life, and those few nice moments before this apocalyptical cycle started. And then there were all the times you spent here as kids. You could practically see the younger versions of you and him sitting at the booth in the back corner. You with your jelly donut and him with his plain glazed one. You recalled the way the world would just fade away as you sat and talked for hours, day after day. It was nice. You missed that.

Turning your attention back to Ben, you answered his question saying,

"Table."

It's not that you couldn't sit at a booth or the counter with Ben, but those places were special. If you were going to sit there then you should be sitting there with Five. Nevertheless, you walked over to one of the many open tables in the place and sat down across from Ben. While Griddy's, or well now Greta's, was never the hot spot to be, it never felt deserted either, but right now this place was a ghost town with only you and Ben in it. For a moment you even wondered if there was anyone working here before you saw a server finally walk out from the back. As she rounded the corner from the kitchen she looked surprised to see you and Ben there, but put on a nice customer service face as she approached the table. Seeing her customer service face, you felt bad for being here. You should've just tried to deal with Luther's presence and ate at the Academy rather than making this waitress serve you in the middle of a global crisis. It was too late though as she already had pulled out her notepad and greeted,

"Welcome to Greta's, what can I get started for you?"

"Coffee. Cream on the side." Ben stated before adding "Pork roll, egg, and cheese. Salt, pepper, ketchup."

"Okay." The waitress replied writing everything down before asking "And you?"

"Um, coffee and a plate of disco fries." You answered before quickly adding "And one jelly and one plain glazed donut please."

"Alright, I'll get that started for you two." The server replied, "I'll be right back with a coffee pot."

As the server walked behind the counter to get your coffee, you looked over at the booth in the corner again and thought of your boyfriend. As much as you needed this time away from the Umbrella Academy, you still hated leaving him. The only positive was he hadn't called yet which meant he probably wasn't in danger. Although, you wished he had a cellphone so you could call him instead of waiting for him to call you. Maybe that wasn't a good idea though. You were pretty sure he didn't know how to work a smartphone, and if his reaction to that vending machine that wouldn't give him a snack was any indication, a smartphone given to him probably wouldn't be functional for very long. However, that didn't stop the feeling in your heart of wanting to be with him. You loved him and you missed him.

Soon enough the waitress brought back a pot of coffee, some cream, and two cups, placing them on the table for you and Ben. You gave her a polite smile before grabbing the pot and pouring some coffee into both, pouring slightly less in Ben's to make room for the cream he wanted. When you were done pouring, you placed the coffee pot off to the side and as Ben poured cream into his cup, he inquired,

"Can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead." You replied

"Where did you learn to draw so well?" Ben questioned "I mean buildings so well."

You elected to ignore his correction knowing that he was bad at talking and probably didn't mean it as a slight. But as you thought about the answer to his question you smiled knowing exactly why you were so good.

"My mom." You answered softly as you reminisced about her "She was an architect and interior designer. I always watched her drawing buildings and room interiors so that's all I ever practiced drawing too. I like to think I got pretty good at it, but it'll never beat her drawings."

Ben didn't expect your answer. You were so intertwined with that of the Umbrella Academy that he forgot that you weren't part of it. But what intrigued him the most was the way in which you spoke. You responded softly, but there was a reverence in your tone and although there was a smile on your face there was a sadness in your eyes. You missed her. He wondered what it was like to miss your mom. Ben had no memories of his birth mother since he was adopted right after he was born and Grace was never really a mother to him, just a maid. What was it like to have a mom? What was it like to have a parent you wanted to be around and be like? Was it nice? It seemed nice.

"Do you want to be an architect like her?" Ben wondered

"No, I didn't really share my parents' passion for buildings." You explained candidly "My dad was an engineer. My parents owned an all-in-one architecture, construction, and interior design firm. They loved creating buildings, but me? Not so much."

"So what do you want to do?" Ben inquired curiously

A question that used to be so simple was now so loaded. You didn't know what you wanted to do anymore. You wanted to graduate high school, but you never existed in this timeline. You wanted to go to college with your friends, but none of them were around. You wanted to have a life with Five, but that seemed like it would never happen. You wanted to be fully happy, but how could you when everything was so wrong? There was nothing for you to want anymore, only things you wanted. However, that was too much to put on someone who had only known you for a few days.

"My dream was to go to college and major in Chemistry with a minor in Physics. Maybe minor in music as well." You answered "I wanted to figure out a way to put my powers to good use. Solve some unsolvable problem. I wanted to help people."

"Wanted?" Ben asked confused before continuing "Why can't you do it? Is it money? I can pay for you to go."

"That's sweet of you, but-" You began to reply

"But what?" Ben pressed

"Benjamin, the world is ending." You stated matter-of-factly "There's no time for dreams anymore."

No time for dreams? No, there had to still be time. The world hadn't ended yet. There had to be a way for him to fix this. He was Number One of the Sparrow Academy after all. He was born and raised to save the world. There had to be a way he could make your dreams a reality again.

"Isn't there time to stop this?" Ben suggested

"Pfft, to even try we'd need the Sparrows and Umbrellas to work together and that's like trying to mix oil and water and then setting it on fire." You scoffed "At this point, my only hope is that I die in one piece."

"Don't say that." Ben protested "You never know, maybe it'll work out."

You looked at him curiously as you replied intrigued,

"I didn't take you for an optimist,"

"Sometimes we find reasons to be." Ben replied sincerely

Before you could say anything else though your food had arrived. And as you heard your stomach growl once more you knew it was time to eat. But while you and Ben quietly ate your food, Five was struggling not to voice his opinions to his taxi driver.

Even with Five expressing the need for speed on the drive, it still took a good bit of time to get from the hotel to downtown where the bar was. Between the cab driver's insistence on following traffic rules plus all the detours that had to be made to avoid the droves of abandoned cars, what should've been a 20-minute ride at most took closer to an hour. And with each passing minute, Five grew more frustrated. He needed to get to this bar. What if the person he was looking for wasn't there by the time he got there all because of this specific cab driver? Like most other things there wasn't much Five could do but it was still quicker than walking to the place. From a block away, Five could see the glowing lights of the bar sign and headlights. However, instead of continuing to drive, the cab pulled off to the side of the road and parked the car before looking at Five in the rearview mirror.

"This is as far as I'll take ya, kid." The cab driver said, "Those bikers ain't the neighborly types."

"Fair enough." Five replied

Five didn't mind walking the rest of the way, he had already wanted to get out of the cab 20 minutes ago. Pulling out some cash, Five handed over the owed amount for the ride to the driver before opening the door and leaving the car. He watched from the sidewalk as the cab driver quickly turned around a drove off leaving him alone on the street. From down the block, he could hear the sound of revving engines and rowdy shouts. Well, at least he knew for sure he was heading in the right direction. With his hands in his pockets, Five walked away from where he was dropped off and towards his true destination. As he approached the bar, he walked through a crowd of bikers and their motorcycles outside.

"What you doing here, baby?" One woman asked

"You lost?" Another man called out

Five ignored their judgmental glares. He one, was tired and didn't care, and two, had far more important things to worry about than some drunk bikers. Stepping up to the door he passed the painted Mothers of Agony sign in the doorway and entered into the building itself. Walking up a set of stairs he was met with the sight of a stereotypical biker bar. The interior looked like that of a warehouse that just had a bar, chairs, and stripper pole plopped into it. The floors were concrete and covered in dirt and the walls were littered with posters of motorcycles and neon signs. The dim lights and cigarette smoke created a warm haze in the room that was only broken by the spotlight on the pole dancer in the middle. This whole place smelled like a mix of beer and piss and the glares from the patrons did nothing to improve the environment. Those glares however were not intimidating to Five like they probably hoped. He could kill them before they even realized they were dead. At this point, they were just getting in his way. At the far back of the room Five could see a door that said members only, and if anyone was going to help him understand what was going on it wouldn't be one of the brainless drones out here. Making his way through the leather-wrapped crowd, he pushed open the members-only door and headed toward the figure in the center of the room.

"I've been looking for you." Five called out

As the figure turned around though Five's confident demeanor shifted as slight confusion took over. The figure standing before him was Pogo. What was he doing here? Five never got the chance to see if he was around the academy because he and his siblings got their asses handed to them and then thrown out before they could really explore, but he had assumed that Pogo was still there somewhere. This didn't seem like the type of place he would be unless something had happened. He could only wonder what that was though.

"I don't tattoo children." Pogo replied

That wasn't quite true. He did for a certain price and if they had a decent level of respect for the process, but whoever this was Pogo had neither the time nor patience for them. They looked of age to tattoo, but who did they think they were barging in like they owned the place? And what kind of young adult nowadays chose to wear a suit, and especially to to a biker club? Whatever the case was, Pogo didn't want to deal with him.

"Swell, I'm not here for the ink." Five retorted "I'm here because you and I have a mutual friend. Sir Reginald Hargreeves."

Pogo let out a sigh as he turned back around to continue working on the person he was tattooing. He had no care for Sir Reginald Hargreeves and whatever mess that followed him around. He had spent too long caring about that man and he wasn't going to start again now.

"Whatever he wants, I'm not interested." Pogo dismissed

"I don't think you understand. I'm one of his children." Five explained seriously "From another timeline."

Although Five couldn't see it, Pogo's eyes went wide. Another timeline? No. There was no way that this was possible. Regaining his composure, Pogo looked back at Five and chuckled snarkily,

"Another timeline?"

"As crazy as it sounds, you and I have met before. Back in 1963, when you were a diaper-wearing chimp in dire need of a manicure." Five reiterated as he pulled down the collar of his shirt "I don't know if you remember, but I have a scar to prove it."

Pogo looked at the young man before him. If what he was saying was true then wouldn't he be of an advanced age by now? All this gibberish was probably just some twisted scheme to get him back to the academy. But the academy was no longer his home, this is where he belonged now. Giving a slight nod to his friends in the room they began to inch closer to the young man before him. As his friends surrounded the boy on all sides, Pogo looked directly at him.

"If what you're saying is true, I'd be talking to a man well into his sixties." Pogo retorted "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've had a very long day."

Grabbing his things, Pogo turned and walked away. This boy and whatever his deal was weren't his problem. As Pogo walked away though, Five stepped forward calling out,

"Pogo, you need to listen to me."

But before he could get to Pogo, the other men in the room stepped close and surrounded him, stopping him in his path.

"Time to go home to Mommy, lil guy." One of the bikers remarked

Was that supposed to scare him or something? It's not like they could do anything to him. They were just a bunch of drunk bikers, but he was Five Hargreeves. Former superhero, former assassin, time traveler, your boyfriend, Five Hargreeves. Looking back at the guy who spoke to him Five mocked,

"Or what?"

Before any of them could say anything though he had already blinked out of the room and outside to follow Pogo. As he looked around the lot of motorcycles he saw Pogo's figure quickly riding away on one.

"Shit." Five said aloud

Looking around he saw another biker, his motorcycle turned on and ready to ride off. Quickly approaching him, Five shouted,

"Hey, I need your bike. It's an emergency."

However, the man on the motorcycle gave Five a snarky look as he retorted,

"Think you have me confused with someone who gives a shit."

"Give me the bike or else." Five shouted back

But the man did not listen and instead began to ride off down the road. Stand where he was left, Five looked at the biker who had ridden off and quietly said,

"Okay."

This wasn't what he wanted to do, but he needed a ride immediately if he was going to keep up with Pogo. With a running start, Five blinked onto the back of the motorcycle of the guy who had driven away. Placing his hands on the guy's shoulders, Five forced him off the bike before taking control of it himself. Steadying himself he looked around for Pogo and once he had spotted him up ahead he floored it so that he could keep up. As he followed behind Five knew one thing, this was going to be a long, stressful night.

As for you, the night felt quite calm compared to where your day started. The pain and grief of losing all your friends hadn't vanished. In reality, it still hurt a lot, but at least for now, you were distracted. There were only so many days until the world ended and perhaps if you could distract yourself until then, maybe you could at least co-exist with your pain. After you and Ben finished eating, he paid for your meals as you made your way back to the Academy. You and Ben walked down the sidewalk idly chatting with each other, your voices being the only prominent sound in an oddly quiet part of the city. As you ambled back, you playfully bumped into him as you attempted to push him into the empty road. Seeing what you had done, Ben smirked before bumping back into you a little harder toward the building you walked next to. Back and forth you went bumping each other, first just using your bodies but then incorporating your powers for some extra strength. With one tentacle Ben shoved you toward the nearest building and laughed as you phased through the wall to avoid crashing into it. Popping back out of the wall, you looked at him as he continued to laugh and with a flick of your wrist, you sent him stumbling off the sidewalk and into the road. As you watched him struggle to stay on his feet you began to laugh back at him.

But then, you felt the energy of the world changing. It was no longer peaceful and calm, something was growing and quickly. Your gut dropped and your laughter stopped as you looked off toward the Academy just two blocks away. You knew what this feeling was and you knew how this ended. You froze, adrenaline coursing through your system, but fear keeping you paralyzed. Each energy wave was worse than the last. The pain was immense and the injuries you sustained increased each time. Oh god, what if this one took you? You told Five you would come back to him. You couldn't leave him like this. You loved him. All you had wanted was a little time. Why was there never enough time? You wanted to run away or hide or do anything you could to protect yourself but the terror of the unknown immobilized you. All it seemed like you could do was wait for the black hole to burst.

As Ben regained his balance, he noticed that you had stopped laughing. Looking over at you he saw you frozen in place your eyes trained forward down the street. Looking off in the distance he tried to see what it was that caused you to freeze, but there was nothing there. Something wasn't right. He could feel it. Quickly, he rushed over to you and saw the terror in your eyes. He could feel his heart start to beat faster and he asked,

"(Y/N), are you okay?"

Hearing Ben's voice, your eyes finally peeled away from the road ahead to him. As you looked at him you saw the sincerity in his eyes and you heard the genuine concern in his voice. And even through your panic you saw him. You saw Ben. The one who sought you out. The one who paid attention to you. The Ben who cared for you. He may not have been the same Ben, but he was still your Ben. He was your friend. He was the family the rest of Hargreeves couldn't be. If this was going to happen, at least you knew you'd have someone who cared by your side.

"Whatever happens, promise you won't leave me." You quickly stated, a begging-like tone to your voice

Leave you? He wasn't going to leave you. You were different and fun and he liked talking to you. He didn't feel pressured to be anything with you. You were kind, but you called him out in a way that no one else could. He liked having you around. Leaving you would be the last thing he'd want to do.

"I- I don't understand," Ben replied confused

You were running out of time. The wave was coming and it felt powerful. You didn't know if you'd make it through this one and you didn't want to be alone. You were terrified of being alone. You needed a friend. You needed Ben to promise you to stay. Stay like he always had. Grabbing at his shirt, you looked at him desperately as you shouted,

"Promise me, Ben!"

Ben.

He was Ben.

You called him Ben.

He looked at you, and although your face was frightened your eyes were earnest and sincere. He was Ben. He was your Ben. You wanted him to stay with you and he was going to do just that. He was never going to leave and nothing in this world was going to keep him from you.

"I promise." He replied softly

You gave him a weak smile, but it didn't last long as the energy you felt build up finally burst. Your head whipped back as you saw the giant wave of energy rushing toward you. Your only hope was that the pain would be over quickly. Closer and closer it came, causing you to feel sick even before it hit, and then just like that, it tore through your system. You felt an unbearable ripping sensation spread through your body, like blades cutting you from the inside and out. As you felt your body giving out from under you, you thought of Five one more time before everything went black.

It was as if the world moved in slow motion as Ben watched you go from standing with him holding onto his shirt to letting go and falling to the ground. He tried to reach out to catch you but he wasn't quick enough. Immediately, he dropped to his knees on the ground next to you and gently shook your shoulders as he called out,

"(Y/N)?"

But you didn't respond. You didn't even move. His heart began to race as he looked over you. All your wounds that were practically healed were now reopened and spilling out blood, and on top of it, there were new, worse wounds as well. You looked pale and when he reached out to check your pulse, he found one but it certainly wasn't strong. Oh god. No. NO! He couldn't lose you. He had just started getting to know you. Just started getting to be around you. You had only moments ago called him by his name. He promised he would stay with you, but he couldn't just let you go. He had to save you. Quickly, he scooped you up in his arms and ran down the blocks toward the Academy. There you could get the treatment you needed. As he made it to the Academy he practically kicked down the door to get in and as he stood in the foyer, with urgency in his tone, he shouted,

"HELP! HELP!"

Quickly, Luther and Sloane ran from the parlor into the foyer where Ben stood. The two of them looked at him and saw the urgency in his eyes before noticing what was making him so panicked. There in his arms was you, limp, pale, and bloodied. It was an awful sight to see you in such a condition.

"Oh my god!" Sloane exclaimed, "What happened?!"

"I don't know!" Ben replied, pained unease in his tone

Luther knew what had happened though. It had to have been the same thing that happened earlier today. Nothing else could tear you apart like a strong molecular disturbance and the Kugelblitz was the only thing capable of doing so as of late.

"It must've been another kugelwave." Luther explained "Because of her powers it tears her apart. I saw it happen earlier today."

Ben looked at Luther before looking back at you. That's right, you had mentioned when he found you in the warehouse that the black hole was tearing you apart, and down in the basement you had made the comment of being in immense pain when the black hole explodes. He felt stupid for not realizing what had happened and even stupider for letting one of the people who caused the blackhole point out what was wrong. But as stupid as he felt that didn't matter right now, what mattered was getting you the help you needed. Ben scowled at Luther before turning his attention to Sloane.

"I'm bringing her up to the med bay." Ben stated before commanding "Go find Grace."

But Sloane didn't move. She couldn't as she stared at your unconscious form. You might not have been dead, but you certainly looked it and it hurt her to see you in such a way. No one had been as nice to her in her entire life as you had been in the few moments you were with her. She didn't know if she could call her siblings friends, a lot of times it felt like they were just coworkers, but you were the first person she felt was actually her friend. She couldn't help, but gently reach a hand out toward you, but Ben took a step back and held you closer to him. Looking up at her brother she could see a mix of anger and fear on his face. She had never seen him look like this before.

"SLOANE, GO FIND GRACE!" Ben shouted "NOW!"

"Uh- right- okay!" Sloane stuttered before running off with Luther in tow

With Sloane and Luther attempting to find Grace, Ben rushed up the stairs of the Academy and toward the med bay next to the kitchen. Gently, he placed you down on the bed in there as he waited for Sloane to arrive. What was only a few moments felt like forever as Sloane finally appeared with Grace. Giving a curt nod to Sloane, he turned to look at Grace, her cultish look and missing eye weren't an appealing sight for someone he was hoping to take care of you, but she was the best resource to help. It's not like he could take you to the hospital. At this point there probably wasn't enough staff and surely they would ask questions he wouldn't be able to answer.

"You need to help her. Immediately." Ben commanded

"Of course." Grace replied, her tone cheery but flat "Please leave the room so I can have space to work."

No. He wasn't going to leave. You had asked him to stay with you and he was going to do so no matter what.

"What? No. I want to stay here." Ben complained

"C'mon Ben, look at her, you need to let Grace work or she's going to get worse." Sloane mentioned before offering "If you want we can keep the door open."

He didn't want to leave the room, but Sloane was right. You were looking worse by the second, and you needed help now. At least if the door was open, he could watch Grace to make sure she did her job and nothing else. No matter how much he hated it, it was the best option for now and so he relented,

"Fine."

He gestured for Sloane and Luther to leave the room and once they did so he followed them out making sure to leave the door wide open. While Luther took a seat at the kitchen table, and Sloane started making a pot of coffee, Ben went back and forth between pacing the kitchen and standing in the doorframe of the med bay to watch Grace work. Five minutes became ten, and ten became thirty, and with each passing minute Ben worried more about if you were okay. Surely if it was nothing serious Grace would've been done by now, right? He could see her taking care of you, cleaning your wounds, stitching up gashes, giving you IV fluids, but why was it taking so long? He paced around faster, his head turning to look into the doorway every time he passed by.

As he aggressively paced, Luther and Sloane sat together at the kitchen table just watching Ben. Sloane had never seen him act this way before. She recalled times when he was more vulnerable as children, but his exterior grew harder as he got older, especially after the incident when he was 17. It had been a very long time since she had seen him so concerned about someone other than himself. Perhaps you had found a way to get through to him like no one else could. You certainly were the nicest person the Sparrows had encountered, besides her sweetie pie of a boyfriend of course.

Luther however wasn't as surprised at Ben's reaction. You and Ben had always been close. The relationship between you two wasn't the same as between you and Five of course, but if there was anyone in the family you trusted as much as Five, it was Ben. When Five was busy doing solo training with Reginald, it was always Ben who sought you out. When Ben, unfortunately, fell to the wayside of their father's favor because he didn't like using his powers, you always noticed and stuck up for him. Whenever you spoke, Ben was always intently listening to every word you said. When others didn't have the time to spare to be with him and his literature discussions you always showed up for him. It didn't matter what timeline or what Ben it was, that care, connection, and concern were still there.

The three of them were quiet as they waited for Grace to finish with you, the only sounds being Ben's pacing and the sipping of coffee. But after what felt like forever, Grace finally stepped out of the med bay and into the kitchen. Some blood covered her clothing and her face was relatively expressionless as she looked at the group.

"Is she going to be okay?" Ben immediately questioned

"She is unconscious, but she is stable." Grace explained, "She needs rest but given her current vitals her chances of waking up in the next 12 hours are extremely likely."

The three Hargreeves all sighed a breath of relief as they heard that you'd be okay, but once Grace was out of the way Ben went quickly back into the room and stood by your side. Your wounds were closed and bandaged, there was more color in your face, and minus the stains on your clothing, all the blood you bled was cleaned up. You were injured, but you were okay. Without leaving your side Ben used one of his tentacles to grab a chair from the kitchen table. Bringing it back into the room he placed it behind him before quietly sitting down next to your bedside. Gently, he took one of your hands in his, holding it just as gently as you held his before. He kept his eyes on you, but in his peripheral, he could see as Sloane and Luther entered the room.

"I'm going to stay with her until she wakes up." Ben stated

"Grace said she's going to be okay." Sloane replied, "You don't have to stay."

Yes he did. He did have to stay. He promised you he would and he wasn't going to break that promise. You were terrified when you had passed out. You needed someone to be there for you when you woke to tell you that you were safe.

"I'm not leaving her." Ben stated

"Ben, it's late. I think you should get some rest." Sloane explained

"I said I'm not leaving!" He snapped

Sloane and Luther looked at each other shocked at his outburst, but since it seemed like there was no convincing him to go, it was best just to let him stay.

"Okay..." Sloane quietly said, "Well, Luther and I are heading to bed."

"Then go." Ben remarked, waving them off

Taking Sloane's hand, Luther began to walk the two of them out of the room to leave Ben be, but as they began to head out Sloane whispered,

"What's gotten into him? I've never seen him like this before."

"I don't know, but it's not for us to figure out." Luther whispered back

Ben's eyes darted over to the doorway as he watched the two of them leave. They may have thought they were quiet enough, but Ben heard them. And while Luther and Sloane may not have known what had gotten into Ben, he sure did. All throughout the day it became more and more obvious to him why he was acting the way he was and there was no amount of forced obliviousness or emotional redirection that could deny what he knew now.

He loved you.

He was truly, madly, deeply, undeniably in love with you. It wasn't until he experienced the very real possibility of losing you that it all finally clicked. Ever since he met you, you had consumed his thoughts. When you walked in the room he couldn't think straight and when you looked at him you made his stomach do flips. When you spoke he was completely enthralled and when you touched him, he felt electrified. You were smart and talented and caring and gentle and beautiful. For the first time in a very long time, when he was with you, he didn't feel like Number Two, or Number One, he just felt like Ben. You made him feel this way, and he never wanted to let this feeling go. He looked at you softly, a smile coming to his face as he quietly said,

"I'm not leaving you."

Carefully, he brought your hand, which he held closer to him, and placed a gentle kiss on top of it.

"I promise."

#the umbrella academy #tua #umbrella academy #five x reader #five hargreeves x reader #tua five hargreeves #five hargreeves

78 notes · View notes

anki-of-beleriand · 9 months ago

Text

A Heart Made of Glass ch. 11

Summary: Ten years ago you left Wanda and the Avengers to heal your broken heart. You never stopped being a hero, just as you never stopped being in love with her. But life had to go on.

Now, after all that time, she is back and with her is a young woman needing help and an enemy that may not be as afraid as Wanda to lay a claim on you.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Powered!F!Reader - Scarlet Witch x PoweredF!Reader - Past Wanda Maximoff x Vision

Warnings: Angst, drama, mentions of cheating, fluff, violence, smut, Switch!Reader, internalize homophobia, hurt, comfort, Wanda being a complete mess, anger management issues, jealousy, Requited/Unrequited love, idiots in love, swearing, mentions of alcohol. More tags as the story progess.

Author's Note: This story is a continuation of Dirty Little Secret I was really surprised at the response I got for the story, I did all the tags you guys ask for but if I forgot someone please do not hesitate to tell me. Thank you for the support.

I am back!! This chaptr took longer than I anticipated, I didn't know exactly how to continue even though I have an aidea of what I want. So here it is the new chapter, hope you guys like it!

Wanda is finally getting there, and Reader has to face so harsh truths about herself and those around herself.

Please, do remember English is no my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Epilogue

Chapter 11

Wanda and Scarlet

Everyone left as soon as you disappeared with the twins upstairs.

The time seemed to pass without your consent, and by the time the twins had fallen asleep and you were back on the first floor the world around you felt different. You stepped into the living room, your shadows flickering to make sure you were alone while you wandered around the place to take a closer look at the pictures decorating the place. You had always like pictures, and in general, you were good at photography; you realized every single one of the pictures you were seeing had a single purpose: to tell the story of yours and Wanda’s life.

It started with a simple friendship, the both of you were young and as the images move through the years you could see fear behind the attraction, the realisation of love and the tentativeness of a relationship until, at the end, all you could see was a happy ending. You tilted your head, your eyes checking the images over and over again until they fell on a missing section. A missing part of the timeline.

“We broke up one day,” you held yourself tight, your ears twitching with your eyes narrowing lightly, the woman behind you approached slowly, her voice sending a shiver down your back.

Wanda wrapped her arms around herself, her voice carried the weight of unwanted memories.

“I was scared, it was the first time she said she loved me.” You turned slightly looking at the woman out of the corner of your eye.

“Did you cheat on her?” You couldn't help but ask, your voice dripping with old resentment.

Wanda finally stood beside you, and she was so much different than your own Wanda. Taller, calm, with a confidence that poured out of her with an electric jolt of power you were not familiar with. The woman dropped her eyes, then you found yourself looking into her green ones.

“I broke her heart, and then I started dating Vision.” Wanda pursed her lips, her eyes narrowing lightly. “I pretend to be normal to honour my parents by being what they expected me to be.”

You clenched your jaw, the tension evident in your posture.

“We almost got married until…I almost lost her.” Wanda whispered, her face breaking into a mask of pain. “She had disappeared on me, I couldn't reach her out and then, one day she…she came back and saved me and Vis…”

Wanda let out a bitter laughter, tears rolling down her eyes.

“I almost lost her because I was afraid and I just…I couldn’t let her go afterwards. I fought hard to earn her forgiveness, and her love again.”

You swallowed down your own tears, turning away from this Wanda before letting your eyes wandered around a story you had always wished for. You could feel the weight of her stare on you, the poking of her presence waiting for the right moment to either talk to you, or push for answers to questions you were not ready to hear.

In the end you stopped on the one picture you had feared, the one you had seen before but with a different individual smiling back at you.

“They look like you…and me.” You finally said turning to Wanda, this time around the smile that broke her façade was one of pure bliss.

The other woman stepped forward, her eyes drifting to the picture and then to you. She had seen enough inside your head to know this might hurt in ways she could only imagine, and a part of Wanda was completely baffled by the mistakes done without a single thought of the consequences. She had to wonder, though, how much of those mistakes grew into resentment and how many of them were fear of allowing love in.

“They were our little miracle.” Wanda whispered, her voice softened all of a sudden before she closed the distance between you and her, and this time around you couldn’t look away or stepped away from her overwhelming persona.

“They were possible because of you and me, Y/N.” Her words made you shiver, the touch of her skin against yours was electrifying. “We weren’t even trying, and when I found out it had been me the one getting pregnant I was scared of you finding out.”

“Why?” You finally asked furrowing your brows, Wanda cocked a brow with her eyes gleaming challenging at you.

“Because of your thoughts, because of your doubts.” Wanda sighed cupping your face with her hand, “when I approached you my main fear was of you thinking I cheated.”

Your body tensed hardening your stare trying to ignore the tenderness and the understanding in those green eyes you had dreamed about so many times. It still hurt. It hurt like the very first time you fell in love with her, and the first time you saw the video of her and Vision. You closed your eyes, but never stopped feeling the woman in front of you, so much like your Wanda, yet so different than her.

Wanda opened her lips, her heart yearning to get you closer to feel as if you were real. As if you were her Y/N, but she couldn’t stop feeling the coldness, the anger, the sadness pouring out of you from your every pore.

When Wanda spoke again, she did so with the same tone of voice she used that very first time. The one that had always told Y/N that she was loved that she was cherished, that she was everything Wanda needed.

“When I told her about the pregnancy, Tommy and Billy made sure to help me out. I don’t know how, and I don’t know why…” Wanda let out a breathless chuckle, “but when I told her, it just clicked. It was as if she could feel them, and she could sense the familiarity in them. They were as much hers as they were mine.”

“I felt them.” The words left your mouth before you could prevent it. You lifted your face to the ceiling, furrowing your brows while your powers ignited with the familiarity the twins brought to you. “It was strange, yet familiar…And I…”

You stopped right before you could say more than you meant to, you lifted your eyes only then taking notice of how close this Wanda was to you. You could feel her warm breath on your face, her eyes gleaming with a deep green that showed all the love she felt for you.

Correction, for the version of yourself in this universe.

Not you.

Never you.

Your whole demeanour changed in the blink of an eye. Your body tensed, and you stepped back until there was only coldness and distance between you and Wanda. And in that moment, your heart broke all over again for the things you had just discovered in a world that was not your own.

“I can’t…” You whispered; Wanda lifted her hand but she hesitated stepping back as well.

It was in that moment you thought about the videos you received; those chapters of a story Wanda had lived in world she had created. The twins that had come to life as the children of Vision, the sudden mess that became out of such a magic, and then the piercing pain inside your chest when you realized Wanda was even further away than where she had been the first time the both of you broke up.

Your mind quivered breaking into a flow of memories you had tried to contain behind the shadows, and your chest shrank into a deep void filled with coldness and emptiness that left you breathless with desperation clinging to your senses.

Wanda stepped back; she creased her brows watching as your powers flickered around her. You clenched your jaw tilting your head until your footsteps take you out of the house. The world around you trembled surrounding you in complete darkness until all that was left was the single, crimson light of Wanda gleaming in the distance.

“Why are you so hurt, Y/N?” She asked, and her voice was like a dagger piercing your soul and twisting the memories of what could had been.

Instead of answering, instead of voicing your frustrations you broke down with tears rolling down your cheeks and the woman you loved holding you tightly. You hugged her tightly knowing, in this world, she was yours as much as you were hers and, even if it was for a brief moment, you could pretend this was your life.

And that was all that matter at the moment.

________________________________________________

You had been watching the routine from afar.

Billy and Tommy were extraordinary, their powers had been developing along with their physical attributes under the watchful eye of your counterpart and Wanda. Your heart twisted every time they looked at you or addressed you in such a familiar and loving way. The way kids sought out their parents, and it broke your heart the same way it was breaking Wanda’s.

“You were quite good to them, though I am pretty sure Billy noticed you were not his mother.” The voice was familiar to you, you had heard him a thousand times teasing and overall being a complete nuisance until he was finally killed by Thanos.

Loki Odinson was looking completely different to the Loki you had met back home.

His hair was around his shoulders, and he was wearing a dark suit with a tie matching the green of his magic. He gave you a quick once over, his eyes cold and calculating, while his hand twitched around calling upon a spell. You turned completely getting your body ready for a fight, the god smirked and soon you let out a gasp filled with an exclamation of pain as your back hit the ground.

“Not as fast as you used to, I see.”

“You just wait until I get use to this stranger’s body, then you will wish I was this slow.”

“Indeed.” He replied with just a hint of sarcasm in his voice, he stood by your side stretching out a hand to help you up.

You eyed the hand before taking it, the strength he used was enough to tell you he was not someone to mess with. Yet, there was something different about this Loki; he was calmer, more collected and with a hidden force that made you curious just to know the story behind the Asgardians in this universe.

“So, you played for the good guys in this universe?”

Loki scowled at the question walking past you until he reached the porch steps sitting down.

“I have never been part of the bad guys, but I have never seen eye to eye with Thor or some of those idiots he calls friends,” Loki leaned back settling his eyes on you, “I find it insulting to label people in such a black and white vision of life, when you and I know, that people and everyone in general is just…”

“Complicated.” You finished narrowing your eyes at Loki, the young male smirked tilting his head to one side.

“Exactly. Now, let’s get down to business, how much do you know of what happened before you got here?”

__________________________________

Another day sneaked through the clouds, the sun shone right above the heads of the agents surrounding the area around the dome.

Yelena was playing with the knife you had given to her for her birthday, her eyebrows creased together while the TV got ready to play the same chapter of your boring life over and over again. Yelena wished whoever was controlling the show would at least get new ideas, or at least let all of you spice things up because this was getting ridiculous.

There was a loud beep coming from the screen, and the image in the TV flickered between colours and black and white. Yelena almost fell off her chair when you appeared on the screen, this time around the story was different, and for the first time Yelena wasn’t sure if this was a good or a bad thing.

“Natasha! You better come here right now!”

*****

The morning light sneaked through the bedroom curtains. The warm of a single ray of sunshine shook you from your slumber, without really opening your eyes you tried to cover up your face knowing that full consciousness poked through your brain.

Continuing with your marvellous sleep would not be possible anymore.

You furrowed your brows, turning to the side while stretching your arm to try and hug the woman you shared your bed with.

Wanda.

A jolt of electricity went from your brain to your body, your heart beating at an anormal speed while you sat down in the bed. You glanced around the room but everything was the same as the day before, and the before that one. You frowned lifting a hand to your face, your thoughts came crashing down without any specific order.

Your wife. Her name was…

You turned to your bedside table, your mind flashed the memory of a single frame with the woman holding onto you smiling brightly. Your frown deepened, the name dancing inside your mind but unable to make sense.

It's going to be okay, my love, don't take the pill. Don't take it and you and I will be together again.

The voice inside your head whispered, the sweet tone was familiar, your heart jumped with anticipation. You turned on your side ready to leave the bed when the door of the room opened and another woman came right in.

She had dark hair, her lips full and red, while those eyes gleamed with a strange light.

“Good morning, baby, did you sleep well?” She came onto you leaning in to seal her words with a kiss.

It felt wrong, but you answered to the kiss lazily with the pretension of being just awake for a couple of minutes. The woman narrowed her eyes though the smile never left her face, she leaned back before making her way to the curtains and opening them with a yank of her hands.

“Today is a beautiful day, and last night was just amazing my love, I really enjoy it when you let me use you hard.” Her words pretended to be flirty, with a teasing undertone she tried to converge with the sultry stare she sent your way.

You shifted uncomfortably, this time around you wandered through your body to validate the veracity of her words. You didn't feel sore, but of course it could also be the effect of the drug or whatever it was you were in. You stood up making your way towards the woman.

Agatha.

Your face broke into another smile, your arms wrapping around her before leaning in to suck on her pulse point. Agatha lifted her hands closing them around your biceps, a sudden gasp left her lips and she tilted her head to give you more access.

“I love it when you let me be in charge, love.” You whispered in her ear, your lips teasing the shell of her ear, your eyes narrowing when the fixated on the flickering reality behind the woman.

“Mmm, I can tell you want more, but today we have the event in the school and we cannot miss it, I'm still competing for first place in the desserts contest.” Agatha stepped back her eyes dark and dangerous, a hint of lust gleaming inside them.

This was the very first time you approached her out of your free will, and the woman was excited. If you were already looking Agatha out and making these advances it meant her magic was growing bending the reality and helping her get what she wanted. Soon Scarlet and Wanda would no longer be an issue and you would be next.

“Very well, but you won't escape, Missy, I will have you later on.” You winked at her turning to make your way to the bathroom, Agatha called out to you stepping closer while lifting a single pill in her hand.

“I will wait patiently for you, now be a good girl and take your medication and take a bath.”

Your smile never faltered taking the pill you put it right away in your mouth swallowing in front of the woman before entering the bathroom to get ready for the day. Agatha stood there for a moment, her eyes squinting trying to catch anything unusual but soon the shower started running and you started humming distractedly. The dark-haired woman smirked and left, the world around her flickering from purple to red.

*****

The day was bright and warm.

It was a complete contrast of the weather America had suffered in Norway. She glanced at the sky, then at the buildings around her, noticing for the very first time the forms of other people walking around the lanes in front of their homes. She frowned stepping back inside the house where Wanda had been recovering after her session with Agatha, she knelt beside the other woman lifting a hand to measure the temperature.

“Today I don't have a fever.” Wanda opened her eyes offering a half smile to the teen.

“That's good.” America sighed checking Wanda before sitting down on the floor. “You look weak.”

“I'm okay.” Wanda sat down slowly, she grabbed the pillows on the sofa tightly clenching her eyes close. “Scarlet is the one doing most of the work.”

America scoffed looking away from Wanda, that was another part of this crazy plan she didn't like. Whatever had happened before America came into the game, Wanda had detached herself from her powers and the part of her that had always been ready to fight for you. She had seen the suffering behind those green eyes, the pain in Wanda’s voice and the defeat in her posture, she had come to terms that you would never be Wanda’s and that she would always be in love with someone that didn't want her back.

The world had been unfair to you and Wanda, and the both of you had given into miscommunications and pride to even attempt a shaky friendship. America pursed her lips glancing at the coffee table where Wanda had placed the necklace she wore at all times.

“You are Scarlet.” America finally replied, locking her eyes with those of Wanda, “you and her are one and the same, you told me yourself that you could feel everything she did and that…”

“I know.” Wanda stood up on shaky legs, she pressed her lips together leaning in to grab the necklace. “Let's get ready, Agatha is finally confident enough that the world around her is of her own creation and we need to make the most of this chance to wake Y/N and get her help to break the spell.”

“Wanda?” America asked tentatively, she could tell the other woman tensed waiting for the question.

America hesitated before stepping closer, “are you sure this is going to work?”

“It has to.” Wanda sighed glancing to the floor, “Agatha won't rest until she had completed the ritual and drained me of my powers, then she would move onto Y/N…”

“And finally, me.” America wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes tearing up hating people around her kept being hurt because of her powers. Because of who she was.

Wanda put her hands on her shoulders, she offered a tender smile and her eyes gleamed with determination.

“Nothing bad is going to happen, we will make this work and then we will deal with Agatha.”

“Would you fuse with Scarlet?” America gauged Wanda's expression, she could see the fear behind those green eyes. “I mean, she is you after all and perhaps in that way you and Y/N…”

“Even if we were to do this, America, she is…she would never…” Wanda let out a heavy sigh, her hand putting her hair back holding onto everything she wanted to say, everything she had been experiencing ever since she got a chance to see you again.

“It's never going to happen, she doesn't love me anymore and I broke any chances to be with her a long time ago.”

America opened her mouth to say something but Wanda silenced her with a gesture of her hands.

“No, she is not…when I accepted this I knew what I was getting into.” Wanda couldn't help the bitterness in her voice, “I knew it would hurt and we would never be nothing more than allies, I just…”

There were no more words, Wanda strsightned up turning her back to the teen.

“I’m going to get ready, I suggest you do the same.”

Wanda didn’t say anything, without tuning around she made her way back to her room and got the bath ready. She held back her tears, tired of the pain this reunion with you had brought to her heart. She knew she had to pay for her sins, what she didn’t know was how high of a price she would have to cover for everything to at least be forgiven. She had been paying her mistakes from day one, without a single moment of peace or redemption.

The water fell on her washing away the painful pressure resting on her chest, her fist clenched tightly as she went along with the plan, with the memories, with everything Agatha made her lived all over again in order to get deeper into her powers. Wanda was not completely sure she understood, and Scarlet had been unable to be cooperative unless you were involved; everything turned out to be a complete mess, and the young witch had to wonder if perhaps outside this reality there was someone trying to help them out solve the mess they were in.

If there was someone out there that was not blaming Wanda for yet another invented reality.

Wanda closed her eyes, her body flinched with the sudden jolt of electricity that went through her limbs all the way to the very core of her soul. She clenched her jaw close, the world flickered for a moment until she felt the pulse of energy gathering around her hands. Scarlet was ready, and they were running out of time. With a single sigh, Wanda turned off the water and went to get ready.

They only had one chance, she needed to be fast if they wanted to safe Y/N and themselves before it was too late.

And, after seeing her weakened state, Wanda knew time was not on their side.

___________________________

Time was relative.

And, apparently, space bent to the laws of time.

Loki had been very clear in his explanation of the multiverse, and his role in getting you in the right timeline and the right body. You heard everything he told you, with your mind taking the bits you thought important while trying to understand those you found hard to believe in. The theory was solid, but it certainly was meant for someone with a deeper knowledge on these matters like Hank, Tony or even Bruce. You went along with the game, believing what the god was saying to you while formulating a plan that could help you out without disturbing the timeline or the multiverse.

But for Loki to make it work, he would need time, and that meant you would need to live in a world you already found was destroying you little by little.

Without a doubt, this universe was going to be the dead of you.

When you were young and left the Avengers, you used to torture yourself with the ‘What ifs’. What if you forgive Wanda, what if you had been enough, what if you and her were still together. What if.

You remembered those long nights in which you imagine a normal life with her, the thought of getting married and forming a family. These thoughts grew inside your mind until you hit the rock bottom and you had to start a real healing process, you had accepted what happened and you stepped out of the shadows to move forward. You were a hero, with or without the Avengers, you were still pretty much a person that could help others so that was what you did.

You never forgot Wanda, and those little what if scenarios would come at nights or on those specific moments in which you were alone with your thoughts. Your heart used to ache with the shadows of the past while facing the light of the future; and now, trapped in this world, you were face to face with the biggest what if there was dancing inside your mind.

What if you give yourself a chance to love her again?

What if you forgive her?

The door of the basement opened and closed with a heavy thud, you shook your head turning to see Wanda Maximoff coming down the stairs with a plate filled with sandwiches and a three glasses of orange juice. Your eyes went from the tray to the woman then back to the book you had been staring at, Loki snorted knowingly sitting down while flickering his hand around.

The lights grew in intensity, and Wanda shot a quick glare to Loki before shaking her head in defeat. She settled her tray on the table taking a seat right beside you, her eyes softening lightly as they read on your face the torturing thoughts dancing inside your head that multiply when you realised Wanda had prepared your favourite sandwich. The young woman offered an affectionate smile before turning to Loki.

“It is quite evident they had been dream-walking, whoever has been doing it, at least, has become quite adept at it and has been creating a complete mayhem while doing so.” Wanda grabbed a sandwich furrowing her brow while opening the book and showing some graphics filled with runes and letters you did not understand.

Loki tilted his head eating in silence while glancing at the graphics, he turned to you then back to Wanda who continued speaking while filling up in the gaps that you did not know. Those that you had not been a part of while on in this universe.

“When we first encountered America, she told us about the multiple encounters she had with strange creatures chasing her around the multiple universes.” Wanda pursed her lips furrowing her brows, “something happened though, there was a moment of peace and then when they came back, she fell into our world.”

“Is this the part in which everything else happened?” Loki asked tilting his head thoughtfully, “but there was a moment of peace as well, was it not? Stark mentioned a time of peace in which she was getting use to this place…”

“And to us, yes.” Wanda shifted lightly, her eyes flickered to where you were already finishing your sandwich, your tongue tucking out cleaning your lips before you went back to your food. She couldn’t help but smile at the gesture, it seemed that some things didn’t change in between universes.

“Dream-walking is a powerful technique, not just anyone can do it and whoever decides to enter in such a realm of dark magic usually gets affected,” Loki leaned back closing his eyes for a moment, “whoever is behind this know what they are doing, and they had probably been planning this for a very long time.”

“I’ve been having dreams I shouldn’t have, dreams with Scarlet sneaking inside a different reality.” You chewed on your lower lip drinking from the glass before continuing, “some of them are pretty real, everything that she does it’s usually pretty real, yet I know it is not Wanda. It feels different, she is different even if they look the same.”

There was a moment of silence in which you tried to ignore the stares from Loki and Wanda on you. You distracted yourself with the food and the beverage while playing with the ring on your hand, you shifted on the chair ready to speak until Loki beat you to it.

“You said you saw a rune before the explosion, right?” Loki inquired, he produced a piece of paper and a pen that lend you waiting for you to draw what you saw.

“Yep.”

Wanda observed as you drew the rune, she leaned forward softening when her nose caught up with the aroma of your shampoo and special scent that was innately yours. She couldn't help the hand that rested on your arm, nor the tenderness behind her caress. You shifted on the spot, your back going rigid the moment you felt the familiarity behind the touch.

“There is something I don't understand yet, why do you call her Scarlet and referring to her as a third individual?” Loki finally asked furrowing his brows, you scrunched up your nose turning to Wanda then to Loki.

“Because they are not the same?” You knew something was not right the moment those words left your mouth.

Wanda and Loki glanced at one another, breaking their eye contact almost right away.

“What?” You could see the hesitation but it was Wanda the one who answered.

“I am Scarlet, Y/N. That was my alias when I was part of the Avengers.” She clarified, you noticed just how closed she was to you, the twitched of her lips just as her hand cleaned up the crumbs of bread on your clothes and face.

“Okay, well…look, I don't know what happened there, but my Wan…” You scoffed at the slip, stepping back and giving your back to Wanda you spoke again, “Wanda and Scarlet are certainly not the same. If anything…Scarlet is more…”

“Daring? Powerful? Mischievous? Straightforward?” Loki cocked his head, he smirked when you turned to him, narrowing your eyes. “That's Wanda alright, I will add an annoyance, and a pain in the ass.”

“Thank you.” Wanda glared at Loki who bowed his head, the relationship was almost as confusing as seeing Steve squirmed when talking to Loki.

“I wouldn't describe it like that…” you trailed off remembering the dreams, the touches and her words.

You clenched your hands, this world was certainly driving you mad.

“Is it possible this Scarlet is from a different Universe?” You asked looking at the circle on the floor, “perhaps a more deranged and obsessive version of Wanda from a different Universe?”

Loki stiffened at the question, he shifted from one foot to the other before stepping forward with a flickered of his hand a book appeared out of thin air. He grabbed the article, turning to Wanda before stepping forward into the circle.

“A cup of tea would be nice,” Loki sat down on the circle opening the book in front of him, the world soon darkened only to ignite a green flame.

You stood your ground, stepping inside the circle making the magic around it flickered dangerously. Your eyes went black, leaning forward with your arms firmly placed at your sides.

“Answer the question.” You demanded to which Loki merely shrugged.

“Wherever there is a Wanda, there is always a Scarlet Witch, Y/N. They are one and the same.” Loki then twirled his fingers sitting Indian style while closing his eyes, the electric current of his magic pushed you away. “The fact that you are telling us there are two versions of Wanda only tells me what I should look for.”

“How can you know this? How can you be so sure that they are not two versions of different universes?”

“Because something like this has already happened before.” Loki waved his hand away frowning, “now, hush, I need to do this right or else I may take far longer than necessary and you need to go back to your timeline before something catastrophic happens.”

You observed the god with his hands position to the sides, flickering as the book finally revealed golden pages and he smirked. You were about to speak again but your body went completely rigid when a hand placed itself on your shoulder, you turned around only to see Wanda looking directly at you. Her touch was tender, and almost tentative, but it was enough for you to stop whatever you were about to do or ask. For a brief moment she waited, until you finally relaxed and stepped back.

“Come, this may take a while and I think we still have a conversation pending.”

You hesitated with your shadows flickering around you, whatever power or will to fight you had in you was soon eased out when Wanda sought out your eyes. You swallowed down your weakness before this woman, and without a single word you turned around and left the basement. The door close behind you with a flash of gold and green filling the basement before the closed door stopped any other intrusion from the magic.

You rested your back against the door, the young woman standing beside you bounced for a moment before she went into action and made her way to the kitchen. At first, you only follow her with your eyes, the confidence she was usually wearing faltered from time to time, and you could see the tension building up inside her while she grabbed the tea pot and got everything ready. Her back was turned towards you, but you were completely sure she was pretty aware of your presence and what you were doing.

After a while, and once it was pretty obvious Wanda had nothing else to do but wait for the water to boil you pushed from the door walking towards the kitchen and sitting down on a chair near the counter.

“When I first learnt about my powers, I started hearing this voice inside my head.” Wanda started talking out of nowhere, you sat down waiting for the story to continue.

“It was not a stranger's voice, it was mine though it held an influence and power that soon became part of me.” Wanda turned around, this time around she made sure it was impossible for you to look away. “While I was being experimented on, the voice kept on infusing me with confidence and power, I understood that the magic in me was talking but then…”

Wanda trailed off and her face broke into a painful mask of the past. The memories came rushing in, she lifted a hand to grab her arm hugging herself protectively. You swallowed down holding onto the counter, your heart twisted wanting to go over there and comfort Wanda. You clenched your jaw, looking away and hating the emotions running rampant inside of you.

“I was then given to my parents, my adoptive parents.” Wanda put a hand on her forehead, her voice breaking lightly. “She never told you?”

“She decided to cheat on me instead of trusting in me.” You replied through clenched teeth.

“It's so easy to judge others, isn't it?” Wanda shook her head leaning forward. “Have you ever asked her about the experiments? About the abuse? About the training?”

“Perhaps it was different from her that it was for you.”

Wanda leaned back, lifting her chin, “perhaps, but something tells me our worlds differ in the way we react to the past.”

“Does it make a difference?” You leaned forward, for the very first time spitting out anger while hitting the counter. “She broke my heart in the worst way and then…then came back with a set of troubles that only brought confusion and memories I didn't want!”

Wanda shook her head pointing a finger at you.

“If this is what you think then, you never knew her and you never understood her.” Wanda opened her mouth to say something else but she stopped, her eyes taking in the form of her wife and her heart yearning to have her back. To feel the sweet caress of her eyes on her.

“She should have been more open, then. I was patient! I was always there for her! Even after Pietro died…”

“What?” Wanda paled at this, she opened her eyes trembling while she approached you, a piercing pain breaking through her chest.

You blinked confusedly shrugging, the anger still lingering in your features.

“The day she became part of the team, that day Sokovia was destroyed. Pietro died saving Clint.” You hesitated to take notice of the pain crossing Wanda's eyes, “I'm sorry.”

Tears piled up in her eyes, her hand went to her chest. It was quite evident this news affected her greatly, even if her own brother was alive and her country was still pretty much a functional place with a stable government and amazing landscapes. You looked away, unable to face the tears or the sorrow coming from Wanda.

“And then, she lost you.” She whispered, leaning back, Wanda opened her mouth before closing it again.

You shrugged, passing your hand through your hair, everything was messed up. Your emotions, the situation, the fact your heart ached to comfort Wanda, that you still wondered if perhaps being with her was possible.

“I just…I want this to end. I don't know if this was…”

“You really don't understand,” this time around Wanda approached you with a tentative stare in her eyes. You stepped back the muscles of your face tense, with your chin lifted slightly.

“I think I understand enough after I saw her fucking Vision while she was still dating me.” You spat out, your eyes black while your powers flickered behind you.

Wanda had seen it.

The treason, the broken heart, the pride and the anger, but she had also seen the love, the nostalgia, the confusion as to what to do, how to proceed. She had seen enough to approach you, to place a hand on your shoulder. This Wanda had seen it all, and she had lived it before; the only difference was that she never hide herself from who she was and what she was experimenting with you. She had to face it because if she hadn't done so, she would have lost you and she was not ready to let you go.

It was getting harder to breathe, your thoughts came rushing inside your mind creating a spiralling of emotions that pierce through your very soul. Those green eyes were looking at you with understanding, there was a hint of sadness there but also hopefulness, and you just dropped your shoulders with your eyes glancing to the window.

“I can't look at you without remembering my pain,” you mumbled grabbing your chest, “I can't be here, and I can't be part of this fight if it means I have to be close to you. To her.”

“You still love her?” The question made you shiver, the darkness in your eyes increased and this time around the shadows wrapped around your body.

“It doesn't matter.”

“It does to me.” Wanda squeezed your shoulder tenderly, there was a hint of a smile but otherwise the woman was trying to be as open as she could be with you. “I can't believe she did what she did, it was something that crossed my mind but I never…”

“Yes, well, things are different in every universe, right?” You tried to move away but the hand tightened her hold and Wanda kept you closer.

“When I broke things up, and I started dating Vision something happened.” Wanda started, her voice carried the weight of memories while her magic flickered around you and her. “It was confusing at first, denying you, denying me, trying to convince myself that I was living in sin and that I have to change to be the perfect daughter, to be the person I was raised to be.”

You listened carefully, it was the very first time you heard Wanda after what happened. And while this experience was completely different to the one you lived with your Wanda you could perceive the similarities. The relationship with Vision, you running away, the conflict in the world, the need for the Avengers to save the day, everything came crashing down and the fight was almost lost because Wanda had lost herself and her mind. She was becoming a different person, her powers getting out of control. Until she was faced with her powers and the presence inside her mind.

“It was strange, at first, but it was as if I had created a different version of myself, a powerful one that had no limits on the magic she could use, my magic,” Wanda then let out a bitter smile, “I almost killed my Y/N when she tried to reach out to me, that was what made me snapped.”

“I don't understand…” you crunched up your nose, creasing your brows while replaying the story inside your head, “what do you mean another person? Powerful? I mean, my Wanda created a whole new reality for her and…Vision.”

“Are you sure it was for him?” Wanda stepped back letting go of you, “there is something about this whole mess that has been bothering me ever since America stepped into our reality.”

“You mean, besides my consciousness being trapped in the body of your wife?” The sarcasm in your tone made Wanda roll her eyes, though this time around she did smile.

“The magic feels familiar, yet tainted. As if there was something else in there.” Wanda leaned back against the counter, “you mentioned a Scarlet and a Wanda, I was never two different people in here, I became the Scarlet Witch and owed my powers the same day I decided to fight for you and your forgiveness.”

You tensed turning away from the intense stare Wanda was shooting your way.

“I don't pretend to defend my counterpart, her sins are her own, and her demons had been chasing her far enough to leave her alone in your world,” her words crashed the barrier in your heart, and not for the first time you longed to see your Wanda and comfort her. You had seen the loneliness, the misery, and the weight of her mistakes wearing her down.

“But, have you considered perhaps Scarlet is her way to escape who she really is? That perhaps, everything comes down to this Agatha and the world Wanda created for herself?”

You couldn't answer the question that left a burning mark in your mind, the house started trembling and soon the air filled with magic. You and Wanda turned to the door where the sheer strength of the magic being used was making it tremble on its hinges.

“What's happening?” You narrowed your eyes, your body getting ready for whatever would come out of the door.

Wanda approached the door tentatively, her hand stretched out but before she could reach the doorknob there was a small explosion. Out of instinct, you grabbed her through the shadows putting her out of harm's way while the hall got completely destroyed. Your arms wrapped protectively around Wanda, your eyes wide open as they glanced at the woman that was kneeling beside you.

“Are you okay?”

Wanda swallowed down, nodding, she looked away from you, turning her attention to the hall. There was no more magic, and everything was silent. The place looked trashed but otherwise the house was silent, with only remnants of humming power prickling at your skin. You couldn't help but set your eyes on Wanda, the woman holding onto you submitting to your protective embrace.

“Loki.” There was real concern behind Wanda's voice, with some reluctance she stood up getting ready to go down the stairs when Loki finally appeared behind the threshold.

“Loki! Are you alright?”

Wanda was on him in no time , her hand gleaming red scanned the body of the male frowning before slapping his arm. Loki scoffed, rubbing the spot she had hit, glaring at the woman.

“What was that for?”

“I told you not to trash the house!”

“Yes, well it wasn't my fault.” He stepped past Wanda, directing his eyes to you. “Tell me everything you know about Wanda and Scarlet, and what exactly do you know about this Agatha.”

You cocked your head, your nose crunching up with just a hint of hesitation in your eyes. The world might have changed in this part of the universe but Loki was still Loki; what could he do to help? What was more, why was Wanda looking at him as if he held the answers to this mess?

“We don't have time for this, but I'm not the Loki you know…” here Loki trailed off, his feet taking him to the teapot, every single moment measured and carefully designed for him to serve himself a cup of tea.

Wanda came behind you, you sensed her hesitation before she too stepped past you and joined Loki in the same activity. You couldn't believe the strangeness of this world, the obvious power these two individuals held, and the secrets behind their powers. You glanced at the mug in front of him, then at an admiring Loki.

“By mere chance, I ended up in a place where all the timelines are stories I can tamper without any effort.” He shrugged, taking a sip from his tea, “while witches and wizards everywhere need to dream walk or steal the powers to reach other realities, I can do so by stepping into the sacred timeline.”

“What is…?” You started and for the first time you saw real annoyance behind Loki's face.

“I could explain to you my part of the story, but I believe our main focus must be for you to go back to your world, and our Y/N to come back.” Loki shrugged, looking at Wanda sideways, “that's why I need you to tell me everything.”

There were many questions in your mind, but with a nod you opened your mouth telling them about your first encounter with Wanda, whatever you found out about Agatha and then the subsequent explosion that led you to this world.

___________________

Wanda was ready to hit someone.

She really was ready to give up and do something drastic. The red magic concentrated on her hand, her eyes gleaming dangerously until a soothing hand wrapped around her forearm, America was torn between being amused and slightly concerned. For what seemed weeks they had been trying to get their plan into motion but every time they got to it you were ensnared deeper into the hex Agatha had placed on you.

The days were changing slowly, instead of the temporal loop they had experimented on those first days, now it was possible to go from one day to another, different days, different scenarios. Agatha was growing stronger while Wanda and Scarlet weakened little by little.

“You told me we had to be patient.” America stated trying to block Wanda's eyes from the scene playing in front of her.

Wanda huffed looking away from you and Agatha.

“She is doing this on purpose, she keeps using Y/N by having her under a spell, and we…”

“We are working on a solution, and the solution is here.” America rolled her eyes, still not believing she was the adult at the moment.

America knew most of Wanda's reaction was jealousy, the other part was guiltiness. Whatever was happening in the basement whenever Agatha dragged Wanda down, America knew the young woman had to face things she was not ready to face. Wanda usually came from those sessions tired, drained and miserable, while it became difficult for her to handle her magic.

America pursed her lips glancing at you and Agatha, Agatha placing your hand on her abdomen while you looked at her adorably. The principal of the school and the woman America and Wanda had met the first time they arrived in Norway were smiling congratulating the happy couple.

“How did she get the…” Wanda couldn't even said it, she turned around and everyone seemed to be having a good time in the school grounds.

“Well, you told me that's what you did…”

“Her magic was not like mine, she really is draining all my powers and here I am…” Wanda turned around and walked away.

America followed her walking faster to keep up with the other woman.

“Wanda, it's going to be fine, this is what we have been waiting for, right? We got her distracted and then you tried to wake Y/N…” America then hesitated pursuing her lips, “you told me your counterpart would help, right? With the signal she would help…”

Wanda stopped her passing, she squinted her eyes before nodding curtly.

“She said she would help.” Wanda didn't want to share her concerns with America in regards to her counterpart.

When they had met, Wanda had been scared out of her mind. The woman standing before her held the full power of chaos magic while being a construct of an inexistent reality. She had spoken harshly to her, blaming her for your indifference and for you to seek out other arms to be happy. Wanda had seen her life in replay, the past and the mistakes, the pain and the wrong decisions, everything that had led her to be alone and forgotten, trapped in a hex out of her control.

“Wanda?” America asked tentatively, Wanda straightened up shaking her head before offering a shaky smile.

“Let's do this.”

America smiled nodding, Wanda sighed begging to whoever was listening to her that this worked, or else, she didn't know what would happen once Agatha had gotten what she came for.

“You know what to do, right?” Wanda asked a very enthusiastic America, the young woman nodded with a smirk forming on her lips.

“Yep, please, Wanda just go for her… I know things will be okay.”

Wanda watched as America left ready to join the rest of the teenagers she had known back at school, soon she pretended to be just like everyone else trapped into the loop while Wanda sneaked around ready to reach out to you. With a single tap into her magic, she signalled Scarlet and soon she felt the surge of power going through her body as an answer.

There was a loud bang, everyone exclaimed in surprise and soon people were laughing and clapping. While Wanda saw the subtle flickered in the reality, the purple changed into a light red. It was time. Without wasting more time, Wanda sprinted towards you spotting you right away while you laughed at some of the kids putting you away ready to show you some of their works and Agatha was distracted by the mother's asking about her pregnancy. The scene was so absurdly familiar, and stereotypical Agatha never noticed Wanda coming closer, or you walking into the school building.

The place was completely quiet, there was not much light but whatever light sneaked inside the building was enough for Wanda to locate you in the far corner of the building. Her heart skipped a beat, she glanced around knowing at any moment the reality could break and Agatha could get everything under her control.

“Y/N?” She called tentatively, you turned around with a scrunched-up nose and brows knitted together.

Your eyes met hers, and Wanda felt her breath taken away. You looked just the same, the way she remembered, with the same serious facade and the eyes filled with kindness and wonderment. She wished she could reach out to you, that she could gain your forgiveness…

The distance between the both of you shortened, but before Wanda could say anything you did something that left her and Scarlet defenceless.

You kissed her.

Wanda gave in right away, her eyes opened wide only to close slowly while she submitted herself to the kiss. Your lips on her sent an electric jolt through her body until her heart was twisting inside her chest and a hoard of butterflies exploded inside her lower abdomen. She forgot her own name, and everything stopped when your arms pulled her close and your warmth engulfed her with your teasing lips eliciting sweet whimpers of need.

For a brief moment Wanda forgot all about her past, she forgot the problem they were in and even why she had been looking for you. Wanda gave in, and kissed you back with the same tenderness, with the same need, with the same love.

“My Love, I missed you so much.” You said smiling tenderly at her, Wanda whimpered when you went back to her, your lips pressing tentatively before you pressed your forehead against hers.

“By the gods, Wanda, what's going on? Where is everyone? Billy and Tommy? Are they Okay?” You broke the kiss cupping her face in your hands, your questions soon went through her foggy mind, and Wanda felt as if a bucket of cold water fell on her.

“What?”

“Is it Pietro with them?”

Wanda felt her world crumbling around her, and you just went to kiss her again when a ball of purple mist came in between the both of you exploding and sending you flying away from Wanda.

You groaned, hitting the wall, hitting the ground with a heavy thud.

“Honey, I can't take my eyes off of you or you go back to Wanda's arms, tsk even after she fucked Vision you’re like a lost dog after her “

You pressed your hands on the ground lifting your face, your brows knitted together while Agatha held onto America and Wanda. You eyed the woman in front of you, she wore a dark dress floating just above the ground with America trying to grasp for air. Agatha smirked at you, her free hand twitching slightly until Wanda fell on the ground with a purple rope tightly wrapped around her neck.

“Wanda!” You stood up stretching your hands and your eyes darkening completely, you hardened your features stopping only when you heard the groan of pain from America and Wanda.

“Nu-uh, dear, I can be quite jealous and if you even care about these two you will lower your guns and…”

You were not even thinking about the threat, you had found an opening in the hex and in the powers used by the woman in front of you. Your fingers wiggled, and the shadows went into attack mode but you weren’t the only one joining the fight without giving it a second thought. Scarlet and Wanda had been planning it all along, they knew they needed one another to bring Agatha down, the same way the did that first time but they were not counting on you.

Or, the golden and greenish spark of magic that broke into their space, the explosion that followed blinded everyone, and soon they were there no more.

_____________________

The charts and the monitors were going into overdrive, Tony was trying to fix some of the readings with Monica and Friday helping him out while Carol was standing outside the dome getting ready for action.

Yelena and Natasha stayed behind, they had been watching the fill show for more than a couple of hours watching the time passed differently entering into days and nights as if time didn’t really matter.

Yelena was chewing on her lower lip, hitting the table as soon as she saw you running towards Wanda crashing your lips against hers.

“I told you! Didn’t I?” Yelena turned to Natasha pointing an accusing finger at her.

Natasha rolled her eyes trying to go back into the scene, getting other angles only to see Agatha freezing the scene around her and grabbing America harshly by the neck. She saw the way she roughed America up, putting her to her before making her way to the school. Her eyes went from one screen to the other, this time around she noticed Scarlet breaking the chains around her arms, legs and neck, almost crawling outside the house faltering before gathering some energy.

“Yes, Yelena, you told me, you are amazing at this but…” Natasha pointed to the screens, Tony and Monica coming over shaking their heads.

“Whatever the hell is going on is…” Tony trailed off turning around to see a huge explosion affecting the dome.

The earth trembled, and soon everyone right outside was running around screaming orders in different languages.

“Guys, you need to see this!!” Carol was standing right outside the trailer, her face was completely paled, with a hint of worry in her eyes.

Natasha was about to exit but stopped when Yelena grabbed her hand, she turned to her sister to see the concern in her eyes.

“That’s not her.” Yelena was completely serious, with just a hint of fear in her tone.

“I know.”

“Who was that?”

“I don’t know, Yelena, but…”

“Hey, you two, you better come out because we just got a huge problem right now.”

Yelena scoffed turning to Tony, “what could possible be more important than the fact that was not Y/N?!”

Tony tilted his head shrugging, “perhaps the fact they just disappeared.”

“What?!”

Natasha and Yelena soon joined the rest of the team outside the trailer, the cold winter breeze of the north hit them straight in the face. The town was left almost untouched, with people on the ground being attended by the medical team; the dome had disappeared but besides some buildings being scratched and the people around being confused and left on the spots, there was nothing else indicating something strange had happened.

Natasha stepped forward watching the streets, and the sky, her heart almost leaving her chest when she turned around to see everyone looking at her. Yelena came forward as well, she crossed the street glancing around until she realized she was right in front of the street Agatha had used to name the street you were living in.

“What…what happened? Where are they?” Yelena finally asked turning to Natasha who merely shrugged just as baffled as her sister.

Instead of watching the same destruction Wanda had provoked a few months ago, what they found was a city that had been frozen in time. With all the inhabitants trying to remember what had happened, why they seemed to be a little disoriented; meanwhile, Yelena and the others had to wonder where you and the others had gone to.

“Where are they? Where is Y/N?!” Carol asked turning to Natasha and Tony. “You told me this would be fine! That you guy would find an answer before anything happened! Well, guess what, something happened!”

But there were no answers, and while everyone was fighting over what they should have done, or discussing what they should do, Yelena grunted exasperated running back into the trailer ready to get her eyes square while watching the screens. Something must be hiding in the broadcast, something she probably missed, something that would bring you safe and sound back into their reality.

At least, that’s what Yelena hoped for.

______________________________________________________________

Next Chapter: Loki miscalculates and creates a vacoon in the multiverse, Wanda has to face her counterpart and two different versions of Reader, America is ready to save the day and it was Agatha all along.

#fanfic #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wandaxreader #female reader #imagine wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #Wandavison AU #Wanda x Female!Reader #MCU AU #Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader

306 notes · View notes

yaut-jaknowit · 4 months ago

Text

The Fight Of A Lifetime

Pairing: We'ar-ow (Female Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 5509

Summary: The week is up. In one last try, you throw yourself at her feet and pleads her to not do this. As much as you don't want to watch, you can't not be there. If she were to die, Dwainet will kill you, might as well make it swift. So you go. We'ar-ow looks magnific in her armor and adorned in weapons. The two arrive in grand style. You're decked out, head to toe in everything We'ar-ow has given you. The battle commences.

Author Note: It has finally arrived! This is the second to the last chapter planned for this series. The climax of it all. I hoped the fighting scenes are alright. I hate writing fighting scenes. They need to be quick, fast and I like to describe everything. So, it's the opposite to what I do.

Masterlist

Ao3

Everyday since the challenge had been issued, We’ar-ow acted indifferent. Not a thing changed. She would take you to her throne room where she dealt with the dealings as the Monarch of her clan.

Well, besides the fact you admitted your love to the alien. Outside the safety of her quarters, We’ar-ow was the same Monarch everyone knew her as. Yet, inside those walls, specially when the night cycle fell upon the two of you, she would cuddle with you. Her eight foot and so frame was easily able to dwarf you. She’d scoop you to her torso and curl around you like some sort of brick wall. Imposing and immoveable.

It was impossible to nudge her even slightly to the side to get up when nature called. The lumbering giant female hugged you like a koala. There was little chance to escape unless you’ve threaten to piss in the bed or getting a UTI because you’re holding it for so long.

Besides the cuddling, that’s the only thing you’ve noticed. And that made you begin to think. The way she barely has changed her personality at first had you worried that she didn’t return your feelings. Then, you got to thinking.

If nothing had changed… maybe she has loved you from the beginning.

Then, to find you there, all those months ago, on the verge of crying couldn’t been fate. You don’t believe she had anything to do with Dwainet breaking up with you. It was the opportunity falling into her lap. We’ar-ow, the predator she is, took the chance to snatch you up before some other Yautja could. A lone pet without its master was a call for trouble.

Now, look where you are now. From the depths of food chain where Dwainet survived in as a newly blooded to the mate of the monarch. A clear glow up for yourself.

Including now; decked out in a finest of material Raunch designed for the day. You looked nothing less than a deity while standing in front of the mirror. The thin, see-through material flowing from around your neck and down your back was flowy. It attached at two points to your wrists. The brown easily complimenting the pink that made up the rest of your outfit Raunch threw you in.

His life must have been on the line when he created this because of how fabulous and stunning you looked in it. We’ar-ow wanted you nothing short of the deity she saw you as. You glanced at said Yautja through the mirror while she armored her up.

One creature soft, pliant, silky. The other rough, jig jagged, coarse. Two pieces of a puzzle that fit perfectly against the other. Both complimenting each other.

You couldn’t help the gentle smile to upturn your lips at the thought before it dropped. The realization of what was about to occur hitting you straight in the gut. This could be the last time you saw each other alive. Despite her plentiful reassurances that the day would go as planned, you are only human. And humans fretted, a lot. Any little thing could go wrong. And boom, she’s dead.

The blood in your veins ran cold. Death wasn’t new to you. Not when you’re surrounded by a species that hunted and prided themselves over the bodies they brought home. Or when they duke it out over a challenge thrown down. But to lose We’ar-ow. You couldn’t fathom the heartbreak it would bring upon you.

Goosebumps clouded your skin. The soft flesh of your bottom lip worried on by dull teeth. We’ar-ow’s strong gaze flickered over at you. Instantly, you straightened and found anywhere else to look at. Then, you attempted to relax and act natural in the face of your mate. Said Yautja began to stalk towards you before halting just shy of your back.

Her form towered even more with the added armor decorating her. She downright looked like a beast ready for the hunt. Your breath got caught in your throat when your eyes raked up her body in the mirror. She was stunning and terrifying all in the same boat.

The heat of her body blanketed you in comfort and helped ease the tension holding your shoulders. We’ar-ow reached around you to cup your throat and tilted your head back. “I have told you, there is nothing to fret about. I will be victorious. Not for me but for you, little one,” she growled and tugged you flush against the muscles that lined her thick thighs.

As much as you wanted to believe a hundred percent, there was that constant nagging inside of your mind. The part that will always make you human. The part that whispered from the depths that she will fail, she will fall, she will die. Then, you will have no choice but to be handed over to Dwainet. Once more in the hands of a sheep in wolf’s clothing.

A part that We’ar-ow can never quell.

“I am only human,” you muttered, eyes drifting down to look at the two of you in the mirror. Her claws lightly bit into the soft flesh of the back of your neck. But, We’ar-ow is careful, mindful of your more fragile form in her presences.

A grumble sounded from the back of her throat. “And I am the monarch of this clan. I have never lost a challenge. I will not lose this one. Not when I have something to lose, someone important,” her voice softened towards the end. Then, the pink Yautja bent at the waist to nuzzle her mandibles into your hair carefully with the decorations adorning your head. In her eyes, you rivaled Paya with your deity status.

Your orbs snapped up to the pink Yautja at your back, expression softening. “We’ar-ow,” you whispered her name then heavily sighed, eyes closing. This is a weight you never expected to bare. Not a weight that was meant for a Yautja more than you yourself.

“What can I do to make you believe me?” she mumbled into your hair then peered over to look you deeply into your eyes. “What will be the tip in the scales?” If you didn’t know any better, you could say she was begging for you to believe in her.

And that hurt you. Guilt burned a hole in your stomach. It was your own demons causing this issue to worsen with each denial that passed your lips and reflected in your eyes.

“Win the fight,” is all you can do to answer her. That will be what will make you believe her. When she brings you the head of the fallen Yautjas who will bring upon a fight that will challenge We’ar-ow in every sense of the word.

Her gaze hardened, mandibles pulled tight towards her mouth. Then, the Yautja leaned down and pressed them against your forehead in a mock kiss. “That I will, little ooman. That I will. All in the name of you. That scum will fall at my feet from my hands. Then, you won’t have to worry no longer.”

That eased the majority of the tension coiling in your muscles. But not all of it. You could still feel its burn in the back of your throat like acid. A feeling that would never go away. Not until the problem had been dealt with at the source. You prayed to their god, Paya, for this day to go the way you wanted. To see We’ar-ow’s beautiful face at the end of the day.

In tandem, side by side, you left the safety of her quarters for the hallways of her ship. Whatever shield that place put over you washed away the moment you stepped into the hallway. Less doors to protect you from the hazards of being on a Yautja mothership. You walked with your shoulders squared and back. A stance of pride that was felt in each step you took.

The doors of the elevator opened to reveal a face you were relieved to see. Xilomere. Him and his goofy, alien smile was a sight for sore eyes. You almost ran up to him to give him a hug. Today is a day you needed all the support possible. Anything to get you through the events planned.

Next to him was someone you’ve only seen once before. One of We’ar-ow’s sister’s who is on her council team. You politely dipped your head at her with a closed lip smile. The last thing you wanted to do was piss off her. We’ar-ow had enough to deal with today. She doesn’t need to put herself into a problem you created. Well, another problem you created.

“Xilomere, I’m so glad to see you,” you spoke, your face spilt with a closed smile. Your eyes shined with your feelings.

The green male set his palm on your shoulder and gave a welcoming shake. “I wouldn’t miss today even if I was legless. Plus, someone needs to keep an eye out just encase Dwainet is gonna play games. Who knows if he’ll break some more rules today.” The helped more to ease your racing heart. He was going to protect you while We’ar-ow fought. Like he said, who knows if Dwainet may send one of his goons after you while We’ar-ow is distracted.

Her sister, a beautiful shade of tans, beiges, and browns, huffed at Xilo. “So will I,” she rumbled and looked down at you. “I will protect you from any harm. I promise both you and my sister this.” Your heart soften even more from her words. The two of them, barely knowing, are willing to put their lives on the line in case of an attack for you. It was probably mainly for We’ar-ow but still.

You dipped your head deeply. “Thank you. I can’t say enough how much I appreciate that. Truly, thank you.” They returned to motion themselves.

We’ar-ow stepped up behind you and held both of your shoulders. “It is time we go. Dunkot is escorting the prisoners as we speak,” the pink Yautja wormed her way into the conversation. Not that you minded. You tilted your head back, throat completely exposed, to look up at her. The monarch of this ship was willing to put her neck out for you. To keep you protected. Not even Dwainet had done that.

Clearly, you’ve found the one.

As if the four of you were marching like soldiers, you stepped in time with one another. We’ar-ow kept the pace slow enough for you to easily keep up. You march side by side with her. Xilomere and her sister watched your backs the entire time.

Instead of the normal pathing to the throne room you were used to, We’ar-ow led the four of you down a different set of hallways and elevators. Down to the kehrites. A section of the ship you barely have been down to. Not unless you were begging for trouble that is.

All four of your entered the kehrites. Your jaw dropped though. These weren’t the mediocre sized classroom kehrites. No, they had knocked down all of the walls somehow and put in a few risers.

Every available space was consumed by the hundreds of bodies squished into the open area. There was even young children and unbloodeds who were stationed at the front for the best possible view.

A section in the middle of everyone was open and set up with a stage. We’ar-ow wanted everyone to see her beat Dwainet into the ground like the way he deserves. The way needs to be put down like the asshole he is. He doesn’t deserve to breath the same air as you. You couldn’t wait for the end but at the same time, you didn’t even want the battle to start. Not with We’ar-ow’s life on the line.

Your head held up high, you followed We’ar-ow over to a designated section carved out for you and your bodyguards. A seat that resembled a throne had been set up. The perfect size for you. It wasn’t fancy like We’ar-ow’s in the throne room but it was more than enough to state your status. She motioned you to climb the three stairs and sit upon it.

The plush seat met your butt allowed you comfort. It gave you an additional height against the larger aliens that filled this room. You didn’t feel small. We’ar-ow looked at you. You looked at her.

Everything else didn’t matter. You reached out despite your brain screaming at you that it was a bad idea. We’ar-ow leaned in and allowed for your hand to cup her cheek. Her warmth raced up your fingertips to settle in your heart. You had found a way to love again and that too was threatened all over again. It burned you had no way to help or fix this problem you created. You could only trust We’ar-ow to overcome the challenge that stood in her way to having you strictly to herself.

Xilomere and We’ar-ow’s sister stood directly on either side of you. His usually goofy expression was replaced by a hardened look that would take years to perfect. A warrior born and raised for the fight. The sister had one as well. Both were armed to the teeth with weapons. Unlike you who was adorn with soft, plush cloth for a gentle figure, they were prepared to take down an army if it came down to that.

The softer texture of We’ar-ow’s face rubbed against your palm. You tugged her closer to you and pushed your forehead against hers. Screw whatever anyone might think about this. You didn’t care. Not when everything was on the line. Your livelihood, your love, the one person you’ve found comfort in.

“Win this. My heart is yours,” you stated firmly, nails biting into the skin behind her jaw before letting go and leaning back into the throne.

We’ar-ow returned to her full height. “Mine has been yours since the beginning.”

Shock filled your system. You opened your mouth to respond but the sound of marching feet interrupted you. We’ar-ow turned her back on you to face the oncoming fleet.

Your thoughts whirled around inside your head, knocking into each and causing chaos in the making. There was no time to reel them in either. The best you could do in the moment was to shove them into a box and close the lid. Because, the moment a familiar form stepped around the corner, you pulled on your stoic façade and stared the beast. The monster who caused all of this. All of this for his moment in the spotlight.

Duknot practically dragged the dishonorable male into the room. He wouldn’t allow for him to attempt to walk and forced him to stumble and flail. Humiliation. Two other males were secured in chains behind Dwainet. Their guards weren’t as demanding.

From their faces and low amount of scars, neither were high ranking. Three low ranks against a monarch. You were feeling a little better at the realization. Her chances of winning had increased.

All three of them were shoved onto the stage. Their chains didn’t allow for them to catch themselves. You bite at the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from laughing outright when they fell on their faces. Dunkot’s expression cracked with a hint of smirk. Then, he hopped onto the stage with two other guards.

Dwainet was hauled up by Duknot’s strength alone and placed back onto his feet. A hardy glare was sent to the guard but it was simply brushed off. In unison, the chains crashed to the ground. The sound echoing throughout the room after everyone had gone quiet. You felt your heart stuttered at the fact the traitor had been freed.

At your sides stood your guards. At your front stood the first and last person who would fight until her dying breath for you. You were safe.

Now, on the platform, Dwainet stood tall and scanned the crowd before his sharp eyes landed on you. Yet, you acted no different. A neutral expression is all he was faced with. He could see you from over We’ar-ow’s shoulders. She corrected this by sidestepping and blocking his vision. All the attention on her now.

His companions climbed to their feet as well and rubbed at their sore risks. From the space, you couldn’t hear what their chittered to one another. The translator unable to pick up from that far.

This was it.

On We’ar-ow’s side, she unclipped her combi-stick and opened it up. With a mighty slam, a loud clang gathered everyone’s attention to her now.

“Thank you all for coming to this special occasion. A lot has occurred over these last few weeks. A lot of information circulating between everyone. I’ve come to quell this unrest once and for all. Dwainet will succumb to the crimes he’s completed,” We’ar-ow started off when she rallied the entire clan’s attention to her.

Her voice echoed throughout the expanded room. “From this moment on, he has been deemed as a bad blood. He’s attacked a defenseless, weaponless creature. My pet under my protection had been injured by him. A crime such like that has brought upon his fate as a bad blood.” You couldn’t help up internally flinching at the reminder. It still felt fresh after all this time. To have someone you once loved so much attempt to murder you.

Horrible laughter rung out from the platform. “Oh, monarch. You can’t even protect the worthless pet in your protection.” Dwainet scanned the surrounding area. “You are weak. You are fragile. I can’t wait to beat you into the bloody pulp since day one. The title as monarch will be mine and you will be dead,” Dwainet boomed and kept his gaze moving.

You could tell he was trying to rile the clan up. In the presence of their monarch, no one even said a sound. The tension and fear palpable in the air.

With her back to you, you could feel the smirk etching its way onto her face. She expanded her arms out at her sides. “No one agrees with you, Dwainet. They see the truth. I true with a mighty fist but I know how much strength to use. I know the limitations. I know what this clan needs.” You hoped that the truth. We’ar-ow was a once in a lifetime leader. One that is needed in every clan across the board. Dwainet, he was the opposite of what We’ar-ow stood for.

A snarl ripped through Dwainet throat, his claws flexing at his side. You smirked and sat up straighter in your throne. You were heavily proud of We’ar-ow.

“Now, are you going to keep bickering or are you going to face your fate? I’ve got plans after this,” We’ar-ow drawled and crossed her arms.

Dwainet glanced behind him where his helpers stood. One was clearly nervous at the upcoming battle. The other was attempting to hold it in. These were just newly bloods like Dwainet himself. They weren’t as skilled as We’ar-ow. What was Dwainet thinking?

His gaze returned to her. “You shouldn’t have. There is nothing for you after this except for meeting Cetanu,” he growled and stomped down a foot on the platform. You could feel the eyeroll coming from We’ar-ow without her even looking at you. One that Dwainet whole heartily deserved.

We’ar-ow glanced over her shoulder one last time before marching straight into battle. The muscles that lined her back rippled with each step. Where her heart resides was protected by her metal armor covered by a pelt she earned herself. Both on her chest and back.

You couldn’t help but peek at the two body guards standing at your sides. Xilomere held onto his Combistick, his gaze directly in front of him and scanned the area thoroughly. We’ar-ow’s sister brandished two dual swords while preforming the same action. Both were on high alert. You were grateful for them and their willingness to do this.

The comfort of We’ar-ow’s presences left you. It was your turn to hold down the fort and wait for her return. You gripped the arms of the throne, white knuckling it before glancing at the sister again.

A thought nagged at the back of your mind. You nervously flickered your gaze around before leaning towards her. “I’ve realized I never caught your name,” you whispered in the quiet space, mindful of how loud your voice could grow.

“T'ah'keiad,” she calmly states yet never looks down at you. That would compromise her job as a body guard. Your eyes widened at the interesting name, lips pressed together. “For your ooman mind to understand, you can call me Kei.” You were thankful she understood her name may be difficult at first to speak. Your head dipped in thanks.

Then, you returned to scene unfolding before your very eyes.

We’ar-ow simply stepped onto the platform and towered over the males that opposed her. “Duknot, relieve their weapons to them,” she rumbled but kept a keen eye on Dwainet. He was the only one she truly had to worry about. She knew his tactics and how sneak he really could be. The others, she may not know how they fight but they couldn’t be worse than Dwainet. He was a disdain on her clanship.

The skin of your bottom lip was worried away by dull teeth. You couldn’t help it. Not with her standing directly in front of Dwainet and allowing for them to have their weapons. They were already adorn in meek armor. Armor that is what many new bloods only have. They don’t have enough ‘street cred’ to get anything better from any of the merchants.

Not once did We’ar-ow turn her back to Dwainet or his two helpers. Instead, she backed up to the edge of the platform and waited.

Dunkot stood in the middle like a referee. Two of the guards produced said weapons and handed them over. They returned to the flat ground and stood off to the side. Dunkot stayed in the center.

“As requested by our Monarch We’ar-ow, this challenge will be a battle to the death. Whoever is last to stand will be proclaimed at the new monarch per our rules. May your hands be true!” His voice boomed out over the area. Roars echoed from the crowd afterwards, deafening. You clapped your hands over your ears to protect them from terrible sound. It barely saved your ear drums from exploding.

Then, he left the platform. A strange shimmer rolled down from the ceiling and surrounded the platform. It was a shield to protect the crowd. Smart.

Before you had a chance to contemplate all of this, a loud bell sounded. Instantly, you knew what that meant.

In your throne, you had a front row seat to watch the fight unfold your very worried eyes. Despite your brain desperately wanting for you turn away and cower like the prey everyone thought you as, you held unsteadily strong. You watched with baited breath when We’ar-ow lifted up a crossbow and shot off a bolt directly at Dwainet.

The young male is able to narrowly dodge the flying bolt by rolling to the side. But, his partners in crime aren’t as lucky. It strikes one directly in the shoulder and pushes him back against the invisible shield. He chokes on a grunt and grabs at the bolt. The wood was snapped off to leave just the head inside but the damage had been dealt.

Dwainet goes for offense. He’s swift to get into We’ar-ow’s personal space. Flurries of kicks and punches were all deflected in matter of seconds. His hits hard, mean, likely to leave a bruise later on.

One of the other Yautjas tries to attack from the back. We’ar-ow ducks a hit from Dwainet and sticks out a leg to trip the darker red Yautja behind her. They fumble then fall back.

Finally, the last Yautja, a lighter red comes in by launching himself into the air. He believed We’ar-ow was distracted. She grasped Dwainet’s throat then aimed her crossbow once more at the already injured male. A bolt flies. It strikes him square in the chest. He fumbles and smashes in the space in front of We’ar-ow. The pink Yautja slams Dwainet down and picks up a foot.

The light Yautja’s head is crushed below her heel like the insect he was. Green blood stains the ground and coats the shield. You gasped and overed your mouth.

A throwing knife sticks out of We’ar-ow’s side. She acts no different. Her hand squeezing the life out of Dwainet. More pierce her hide to the point she picked up Dwainet again and threw him into the red Yautja.

They collided harshly with each other before slamming into the shield and flopping to the ground a pile. We’ar-ow moves with purpose over to the two scrambling forms. The crossbow back on her hip. She swipes Dwainet off of the ground again by his throat and holds him up. Her foot presses into the vulnerable area of the downed Yautja. The rings protecting his skin barely able to hold against her weight.

Her only foot on the ground is swiped from underneath her. Dwainet is allowed to be let loose. She is able to roll onto her stomach as claws swiped for her torso. Your eyes widened at the sight of her blood staining the floor this time. You sat more forward in your chair and played with your hands.

Red gets on top of her and grabs harshly at her neatly braided tresses. He pulls. We’ar-ow yanks her head forward. You gasped. Loose dreads hang in his hands, bleeding at the roots. You knew that had to hurt a lot.

We’ar-ow rams her elbow into Red’s side and knocks the wind out of him. A foot flies towards her face. She narrowly dodges a bad blow and latches her fangs into flesh. Dwainet roars and yanks his ankle from her mouth. Blood dripping down from the new wound.

Rage is a wildfire in his eyes. You had to stop yourself from curling into yourself at the sight. He snatches an axe from his belt and swung high above his head. No! You covered your mouth with both of your hands, unable to do anything to stop it.

In a terrifying slowness, it came down. Here you were, stuck in your chair, with a shield blocking you from the love of your life. You were forced to watch as Dwainet brought down the axe.

Her name left you lips in a cry.

The sickening sound of the axe sinking in will forever haunt your mind. You flinched away from the sight and covered your ears, unable to watch the final blow.

Dwainet roars. Pained. Confusion flooded your system. You picked up your head and looked back at the platform. Red was off of her back. Both of the male had been lifted up by their necks, forced to claw at her hands. The axe was imbedded into the metal floor besides were We’ar-ow’s head once was.

The pink female shoved both of the males against the shield directly in front of you. Her eyes pinned to your shaking form. You uncurled from your cowering position and looked up at her through blurry eyes. The sight of her alive form had your body sagging. She was okay. She was alive.

We’ar-ow dropped red then swiftly kicked one of his knees. A sickening crack echoing over the roars and cheers of the riled up clan. He dropped down where she knocked him down onto his back. In a similar fashion, she stomped down on his head, caving in his face. He too was dead.

You didn’t even flinch this time. Your eyes watched every move.

In her hand, Dwainet struggled and wriggled like a worm. His claws dug into her arms, anything to grant him release. He couldn’t get out of Dwainet fatal hold.

His feet dangled above the platform. We’ar-ow was able to hold him up without the aid of both arms or the shield. She snatched both of his wrists though and leaned forward. Your head tilted, brows furrowing on why she was making herself vulnerable for attack. Her mandibles twitched with words that your translator couldn’t pick up. You couldn’t only imagine what she was promising.

Then, he went soaring through the air and smashed into the ground and rolled before coming to a stop. He groaned while on his back. We’ar-ow unsheathed a machete from her waist band and brandished. The sharpened edge glinted from the overhead lights.

At her approach, Dwainet scrambled to his feet a moment to late. We’ar-ow swung and struck his forearm, just below his elbow. The blade sliced clean through muscle and bone alike. The injured Yautja choked on a cry and stumbled back and clutched at his profusely bleeding arm. You jerked your head back, eyes expanded at the terrifying sight before you.

His amputated arm flopped to the floor in a bloody, neon green heap. This when it finally hit you that this is where Dwainet was going to die. This was truly happening. Dwainet was about to be murdered right in front of you by your… mate. You just stayed sat and watched everything.

A snarl ripped from Dwainet’s throat. He glared daggers at We’ar-ow with a passion of hatred. With his only hand reminding, he brandished at knife and raised it above his head. The blade came down. We’ar-ow meets the offending hand with her own weapon. The cut was clean through his wrist as well. Another cry croaked from his hoarse throat. He collapsed to his knees as blood spurted from his amputated hands.

He didn’t raise his head to look death in the eye. We’ar-ow used the tip of her machete to tip his head up. Something primal and deep rumbled from her chest. Dwainet’s entire body froze as if he saw Cetanu himself. She stepped behind his deer in headlights position and faced you.

Despite the distance, you met her gaze. The machete was clipped to her belt again. We’ar-ow grasped his tresses with one hand. The male grunts and folds his mandibles in tightly to his face. His expression neutral. He knew what was to come.

We’ar-ow’s muscles flexed. A sharp crack pierced through the air. Life still shone in Dwainet’s grey eyes. Then, a roar sounded from your mate. Flesh and muscles alike ripped in a grotesque sound. You had to stop yourself from throwing up your lunch, but neither could you look away.

Green, neon blood dripped down to pool on the platform. Cheers of triumph echoed throughout the modified stadium. You could feel the ground rumbling underneath you, but all was quiet. The dead eyes of your ex-mate staring directly into your soul. The finale had come to a close. We’ar-ow stands as the winner once and for all.

Sound floods back into your ears, deafening to the point they rung. The shimmer of the shield faded away and allowed We’ar-ow freedom. The pink Yautja was the only one to move. Her thick legs dropped down from the platform and marched straight towards you. As much as you wanted to leap out of your chair and ensnared her in a hug, the blood of her enemies painting her skin reframed you.

Her yellow eyes met yours for an infinity. One of her knees dropped to the floor causing a silence to steal the noise of everyone. All was quiet. You gasped, instantly knowing a monarch kneeling was trouble.

In her bloodied hands, she presented you the head of Dwainet. Your heart pounded in your ears.

Your name was boomed across the room. “Do you accept this trophy as a gift of courtship?” We’ar-ow asked and watched every little sign from your expressions. Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. Gasps from the crowd could be heard. Chitters and clicks as the translator only focused on the Yautja in front of you.

She was asking for you to be her mate… in front of the clan. She was laying claim over you more than the mark etched into your skin.

A few seconds ticked by. You nodded rapidly and rushed forwards. The head was dodged. Your arms wrapped tightly around We’ar-ow’s neck in hold she wouldn’t dare try to get you off. The blood of four was rubbed into your skin, including the life essence dripping from her missing tresses. We’ar-ow was swift to return the gesture, understanding this meant ‘yes’ in human.

Bellows escaped from the crowd but it was a sound you could care less about. Today was the day that marked the new chapter in your life. A newfound freedom from the chains Dwainet had weighed down on you. You had power not even the highest Yautja aboard this ship besides the monarch has. From the bottom of the barrel to sitting on a throne, you’ve grown.

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #yautja x you #alien vs predator #predator x reader #yautja x human #predator x you #predator x human #x reader #We'ar-ow #The Monarch

138 notes · View notes

finnsbubblegum · 2 years ago

Text

Birthday Crasher (Part 2) (Joel Miller X Reader)

Pairing: no-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, sweet joel, domestic joel, rom-com

Summary (Series): reader as Joel’s neighbor. Joel’s wife left him so Joel asked his neighbor for help in babysitting Sarah.

Summary: Sarah got sick on her first birthday.

Words count: 1.3k

A/N: I’m trying to make this as a rom-com, hope you like my new series! This is part 8 of Where It All Starts. But it can also be read as a standalone. I'm so grateful for all of you! Thank you for your comments, reblogs, and likes ❤️ There are still more chapters for this series so stay tuned! Love you!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

“Fuck it.” You finally caved in and kissed Joel passionately.

He kissed you back and pushed you to lean on the fridge. The fridge shook because of your weight and you gasped. But he ignored it so you put your arms around his neck and continued kissing him.

But it felt like it was only for a second then you heard Sarah cry from her bedroom. Joel and you rushed to her to check on her.

“What’s wrong, babygirl?” Joel panted as he stopped at the doorway.

“Hey, hey. I’m here, sweetheart. I’m here.” You lifted Sarah from the crib and smelled her butt.

“Not smelling anything.” You were confused.

You had fed her. She didn’t peed or poop. So what was the reason she was crying?

You felt something was off. Her cheeks were flushed. It was redder than usual. Then you put the back of your palm to her head and it felt warmer.

“Joel, get the thermometer please. Hurry.” You were panting as you panicked.

Joel rushed to find the thermometer and handed it to you. You immediately checked her temperature using the thermometer.

“Joel..” You showed the thermometer to Joel.

“38°C?” Joel put his hand on his forehead.

“We need to go to the hospital, right now.” You rushed to get your jacket.

Joel got his keys and ran to the car. He drove as fast as he could to get to hospital and go to the emergency room. Sarah had a fever. On her birthday.

“Help! Please! My daughter. I think she has a fever.” Joel begged the nurse.

“Please, she just turned one today.” You begged as you held Sarah in your arms.

“Okay, please come here.” The nurse guided you to a bed and called the doctor.

The doctor examined her and treated her. She was now sleeping on the hospital bed. You sat beside her as you caressed her head while Joel was doing the procedures and paid the bills.

“We can go home now.” Joel came beside you and rested his hand on your shoulder.

“Okay.”

At home

“Hey, babygirl. It’s still your birthday today. I forgot to tell you, your mama told me to tell you that she said happy birthday.” You kissed her cheek.

“Ma-ma.” Sarah babbled.

Joel and you froze and stared at each other. Jaws dropped.

“Did she just-” Your eyes widened.

“Yeah, I think she just did.” Joel nodded.

“Say it one more time babygirl.” You bounced her a bit on your lap.

“Ma-ma.” Sarah repeated.

You cried. You were not her mom but you felt happiness when the baby in your arms called you her mama.

“Oh..babygirl.” Joel caressed Sarah’s head. He took her from your arms as you wiped your tears.

“Try saying dada.” Joel cooed at his daughter.

“Ma-ma.” Sarah kept saying the word mama.

“No, no. Dada. I’m your daddy.” He snuggled his face to Sarah’s belly.

“Come on, sweetie. Try dada. Da-da.” You taught her how to say it.

“Da-da.” Sarah finally said the word.

“Oh my God!” You covered your mouth as you gasped.

“She just called me dada. Dada loves you, babygirl.” Joel kissed his daughter’s forehead.

You looked at Joel and Sarah and your eyes were getting teary. You were happy seeing Joel happy beside what had happened that morning. You leaned in and caressed Sarah’s head.

“Can I stay with her tonight?” You asked.

“Yeah, sure. But I-uh-I don’t have a spare bed. You can take my bed and sleep with her in my bedroom. I’ll take the couch.”

“You sure?” You felt bad letting Joel sleep on the couch but there was no other way.

“I’m sure, darlin’.” Joel nodded.

“Okay, time to bed, birthday girl. Come on.” Joel passed Sarah to your arms and you brought her to bed.

Joel guided the way and opened the door for you.

“You can change into this.” Joel put his white t-shirt and sweatpants on the edge of the bed.

“Thank you.” You were too tired from the busy day so you didn’t bother to stop by your house to get changed.

“I-uh-I’ll be downstairs if you need anythin’. Good night, (y/n).”

“Good night, Joel.” You closed the door as you walked him out.

You changed to his t-shirt. It was so big and you decided not to wear his sweatpants because his t-shirt was long enough to cover you. You raised the collar to your nose smelling his shirt. You smiled as you found that comforting smell again.

“We’re having a sleepover tonight, sweetie.” You patted baby Sarah’s tummy gently as you laid beside her.

Hours passed and you found yourself awake. You were lost in your thoughts thinking how Joel should be with his daughter tonight. Especially since it was her birthday and she was sick. You sat on the bed and decided to check on Joel downstairs.

“Joel, you awake?” You called him as you walked down the stairs.

“Joel?” You called him again as you walked closer.

“AHH!” Joel screamed in a high pitched tone.

“What?!What?!” You panicked.

“Fuck, I thought you were a ghost.” Joel covered his face in embarrassment.

“What the fuck, Joel? You thought I was a ghost?” You laughed.

“How can I not think you were a ghost when you’re lookin’ like that?” Joel moved his hand up and down pointing at you.

You looked at yourself and realized. You were wearing his white t-shirt oversized hugging almost half of your body. And your long hair was let down.

“Sorry.” You chuckled.

“What is it? You need anythin’?” Joel asked.

“I was wondering if you wanted to join us upstairs?” You pointed to your back.

“Upstairs?” Joel raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah, I think Sarah needs her dad with her now.”

“Yeah, sure.” Joel followed you upstairs.

“Ahh!!” You suddenly mimicked Joel’s scream earlier as you climbed the stairs in front of him.

“You do realize you just screamed like a girl, right?” You stopped and turned your head to him, teasing him.

“Don’t make fun of me.” He threatened you.

“Ahh!” You mimicked him again and laughed.

“Stop it.” He sighed as he covered his face.

“Fine. Fine. I’ll stop.” You chuckled and walked your way back to the bedroom.

“Where do you usually sleep?” You asked Joel which side of the bed was his.

“Here.” He pointed to the left side.

“Okay.” You climbed to the right side and laid down.

Your heart beat faster. Tonight was your first night sleeping with Joel in the same room and same bed with only a baby separating you both. You slept on your side facing him and patted Sarah’s tummy.

Joel could feel his body stiff. He laid on his back with his hands folded on his stomach facing the ceilings. His heart felt like it would burst in any second. He cleared his throat as he moved to sleep on his side facing you. Both of you were now facing each other.

“Ugh-Hi.” Joel awkwardly said hi. He felt stupid for saying that.

“Hi?” You hi-ed him back with a questioning tone.

“Do you-uhm-do you think she’s sick because of what happened earlier in the morning?” Joel felt guilty after the fight with Sarah’s mom on his daughter’s birthday.

“It’s not your fault, Joel. Babies get sick. It’s normal. Don’t blame yourself.” You consoled him.

“I’m glad she’s okay. Thank you for today.” He put his hand on top of your hand that was patting Sarah’s tummy.

“Anytime.” You smiled.

He giggled and you giggled. You two felt the awkwardness sleeping in the same room but each of you felt butterflies on your stomach. The two of you started to forget about the bad things that had happened today. Joel and you even forgot to talk about “that one second kiss” that happened earlier in the day.

To be continued…

Taglist:

@lovelyygirl8 @skysmiller @moonlightdivine @crocodiile @angie2274 @pulchritudinousrogers @peqchsoup @msecho19 @happinessinthebeing @nyotamalfoy @nakedmoondiaries @dzaga890 @pa1g3-t0mm0 @prettysbliss @wanniiieeee @one-sweet-gubler @x-ap0llo-x @feministfanboi @ordinarylokix @afterglowsb-tch13 @padgraysonssram8re @tomorrowseverything @hummusxx @iranispunk @mrsyixingunicorn10 @likeanimagepassingby2 @mediocrewallflow3r @pedr0swh0r3 @mxtokko @dorck26 @cascactus28 @cheyxfu @stupidthoughtsinwriting @undermoonlightwalk @bigmoodyjoody @humanbug @sarahhxx03 @krisviciousx @quixscentsposts @dgct2 @dgraysonss @heybabyshae @fluffyspaceprincess @toottmblr @avengersfan25 @xixxala @dianaffddz @onzayhe @@violetwitchmcu @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @kelh27

703 notes · View notes

yiga-hellhole · 6 months ago

Text

TFTK CHAPTER 20: ENDURING RESOLVE

Ganondorf has gone into hiding. His two most loyal servants guard the desert in his stead. Hyrule approaches, knowing not what kind of death awaits them, deep beneath the sands. Zant tests out his blade.

FINALLY DONE! sooo sorry my beloved tumblr readerbase. this update has been available on ao3 for a little over a week now, but i had to steam through a pretty bad art block to get this promo image done exactly how i liked it. so without further ado, here it is!! i have a real doozy for you all today! again, thanks so much to @bulgariansumo and @orfeoarte for betareading the chapter! there's a couple secret languages in this chapter again... thanks very much to @unironicallycringe for helping me with figuring out Akkadian. as for the translations, well... you go puzzle it out!

content warnings this chapter for: graphic violence, animal death, medical gore, domestic violence/physical abuse (for lack of a better term)

ao3 mirror

They rose before the sun had even fully set, thieving their love-nest of its purpose hours too early. Any preparations they could do, save donning arms and armor, would have been too late in this final moment before battle, but they had to be ready to defend themselves at any moment. The air was tense, dead-silent so as not to alert any potential enemy scouts. But in that deep silence, every nervous sigh, every jingle of chainmail, grated the ears from miles away.

So sat Zant in his chambers, eyelids still thick and heavy with sleep, but nonetheless perched at the edge of his bed, gazing out into the night sky. Ghirahim lied where he’d left him, sunken into his pillows and layers of sheets. In this companionable silence, there was as much to be said, as there was a lack of words to convey them. Indecision to what topic could suit the last hours before this all-out battle, they spoke of nothing at all. Yet there was deep understanding in it, a bond between them that only needed a glance of the eye to be conveyed.

Pacing anxiously was unnecessary. Ghirahim lay comfortable; to him, nothing enriched the soul like battle, and he was ready to rise every minute of the day. No need for armor, for food, for a minute to come to his senses. He could jump up the second the warning horns blared.

Thus, he dozed, his eyes on the tense Twili beside him until they wandered to the portrait above him. When had he moved it above his bed, he wondered? To think a man so reserved could be so vain. The gold of its canvas glittered in the weak light, egging on the stars in the sky beyond with its own splendor. Ghirahim felt a smile creep up on him and his eyes drew to a close.

He didn’t quite keep track of how long he lay there simply sifting through the favorite contents of his core, before that line of thought was interrupted, and a warm static forced itself through his mental imagery. It started deep in his chest, washing over his every extremity in waves. His skin tingled, his breath hitched. A contented sigh dragged out from him and joined the warm air in the room. This feeling, how long ago it was since he last felt it. It could only be…

Sat on the carpet beside the window was Zant, the Demon Scimitar before him. Moonlight could not hope to pierce the deep black of their blade; their masterpiece was a shadow among shadows. A vibrant teal glow pulsed throughout the veins in its fuller, like light beneath the ocean waves. That glow slowly grew richer, occasionally interrupted by the stroke of a cloth across the blade.

Ghirahim shuddered. There was the source of that odd feeling, that sent shivers up his back and caused his face and stomach to flush an embarrassing red. Soon Zant caught him staring at him past the mound of sheets and met his eyes – glowing, giving him no choice but to witness them – with a smile.

“Pardon me. Did I disturb you?”

“Disturb is a strong word,” Ghirahim said, unable to suppress a shuddering groan. From fingerguard to its point, the cloth rubbed away every speck of dust and smudge of oil.

The sound that escaped him piqued Zant’s interest immediately. Eyes that should pay attention to the razor-sharp edge of their sword widened at him. “You can feel this?”

Taps of powder against the blade. Puff, puff, little clouds of white dissipating in the gentle breeze. “To some degree, yes.”

Bright, amber eyes narrowed. “What is it like?”

Adjusting comfortably, Ghirahim sank back into the sheets, hiding half of his face. He stared him down no lesser, though. “There is hardly any equal to this feeling, Zant,” he hummed, pleased by the sensation of gentle polishing. “But if I had to describe it… Something akin to having my hair brushed, or hands stroking my back, I suppose.”

Zant’s eyes turned to the sword, now carrying a certain spark. He beheld it in a different light. “I see. How fortunate to know.”

Ghirahim shifted, curling himself in the mass of sheets to get a better look at his machinations, but without abandoning the glow of their joint warmth. Their companionable silence returned, the quiet room filled only with the whisper of cloth against metal, and the gentle churning of his core. Warmth buzzed through him in waves, like fingers with long nails tapping and tracing the features deep in his chest. That so-abstract sensation turned ever warmer, more squeezing, when that familiar smell of cloves arose, and Zant turned to oiling the blade. Ghirahim cocked his head, watching intently. “Tending to it again? So soon?”

Zant only glanced at him before returning to his focus. “Our sword is in its infancy, Ghirahim. It has to be nourished in its first year.”

“You’ve done your homework,” Ghirahim smirked.

“You hardly gave me any choice, Ghirahim-hasir,” Zant smirked right back.

Another honorific! He laughed fondly, ever-so-amused by Zant’s habit of slipping into mother tongue. “That one is new! What nonsense are you up to, this time?”

“No more than usual,” Zant hummed, a touch of cheer in his voice. “Now get back under the covers and leave me to do my bidding. We must be in top shape before dawn, you and I,” he crooned, stroking the cloth down their blade in emphasis.

Ghirahim smiled, sighed, and complied.

That morning, Hyrule conquered the southern settlements in a matter of minutes. The market streets the pair had grown so familiar with, committed to memory through the smells of spices, pastries, and smoked meat alone, decimated at once. Not that they’d made it particularly difficult for their adversaries; a minimal amount of monstrous troops were stationed there. This was their bait. A little trick tucked in falsely heightened morale, to fool the Hyruleans into thinking them weaker than they were. Besides, the locals stationed within sight would surely be healthily enraged by the sight of their beloved settlement being torn to the ground. Zant had planned for a bloody start.

The two of them were thoroughly locked away in the North. The Gerudo Temple Complex was a dark and swirling thing, a monumental goliath of sandstone and brick, its dimly lit corridors designed to trap anyone outside the clergy in the bowels. Deep within, it hid the Coliseum. A holy ground to desert peoples, later desecrated by Hyrule and turned into an executioner’s oubliette. Better known as, ‘The Arbiter’s Grounds’. Since its reclamation by the Gerudo (according to Zant, one of the few good things brought on by shattering the Mirror of Twilight), Hyrule was to never touch it again. The labyrinth would guard it for as long as it stood.

In other words, it was the ideal place to watch the battle unfold from afar. Their intel detected signs of three commanders: Link, the Goddess’ favored hero; Lana, still missing her counterpart; and an unfamiliar Sheikah warrior. Knowing the Hyruleans, they likely had more tricks up their sleeves. They needed caution above all.

Zant was eerily silent for most of their stay, retreating within his helmet. Had Ghirahim not known any better, he would have suspected him of sleeping on the job again. On the contrary, the Twili could not have been more alert. The ace up their sleeve was heaving and buzzing restlessly deep underground below their feet. The Twilit Bloat, Queen Mother of Zant’s favorite pets, spent days spewing forth countless Shadow Insects, which he’d hidden away in every nook and cranny he thought would make a decent vantage point. They were acting as his eyes in the field and to keep track of them all required his utmost concentration.

Until at long last Zant withdrew from meditation, the segments of his helmet squeaking as he straightened himself and turned toward his co-lieutenant.

“They are inching closer to the oases. While they busy themselves there, now is the best time to start our preparations,” he said, beckoning him with a wave of his hand as he made his way through the keep.

Ghirahim, glad to finally have something to do, grinned. “You mean to set up the… Shadow puppets, you mentioned, yes?”

“I have told you of my plan,” Zant agreed, scaling the steps to the decrepit altar at the center of the Coliseum. His visor rolled up to reveal a grin. “But not yet of its execution. It should be most familiar to you, however,” he turned, his hand outstretched and palm facing the skies.

Ghirahim smirked and followed, taking his hand to have him lead him further up the steps. An arm curled around his waist, and he rested his on Zant’s shoulder in return. “How courteous of you, Twilight King. Won’t prancing about distract you from your own casting, though?”

Zant smiled in turn. With a small pull at his waist, they quickly sank into a rhythm, waltzing under the sunbeams that peeked through the stone walls. “We must enact our spell in utter synchronicity, Ghirahim-ili. This is the best way.”

A pulse coursed through him. Diamonds rose from their footprints, flickering with signs of their blooming magic. The beating of their feet and chiming of his core accompanied their dance like a dozen tambourines. Through their joined hands, sparks of power crossed into one another, melting together until the pictures in their minds became clear as day, a single being.

“I shall be the source, and you, my conduit. My power is yours to steer, puppeteer of mine,” Zant’s words echoed, but Ghirahim couldn’t be sure if they came from his lips, or snuck into his mind without his notice. How cheeky.

And soon, that power manifested into being. Rising from the shadows, Ghirahim’s second pair of eyes came into view – or rather, he came into its view. A second Ghirahim took shape, its features growing more defined by the second. Terrible vertigo struck him, causing a temporary lapse in his steps. There was a disconnect, a duplication of his sight, but no identical one. He could see through his own body but through his double’s, too. His core swirled as he looked himself in the eye, standing in the sand with its muted colors and stiff stance.

“It’s easier if you close your eyes,” Zant whispered with a low croon, “try not to think. Let me lead you, my Blade.”

Easier said than done, he’d say, did it not make such a drastic difference. Ridding himself of his second-sight made it all the easier to at least gather his bearings without the spinning surroundings there to distract him. But reaching this double somatically remained a challenge. It was like trying to steer a phantom limb. The tether was weak, but undeniably there, and getting it to move was akin to timidly pressing the keys on an old harpsichord. All the while this buffoon requested him to dance.

But that was the trick, wasn’t it? Channeling their magic? He was no stranger to their bodies becoming one, in many senses of the term. It wasn’t just his own magic he had to focus on, but the force linking its fingers with it, too.

Synchronicity. The picture through the eyes of his double became vibrant and clear as day.

His double twitched its fingers until they were veritably his, then took a stumbling step. Then another. Then more, stably, rolling its shoulders and bouncing on its heels. The shuffling of dancing feet was soon nothing but background noise, far removed from where his mind settled. Housed in this spectral clone, Ghirahim grinned, braced his fingers, and snapped.

The desert heat felt like room temperature. Or rather, like nothing at all, in this doubly-false skin. Having teleported himself, he stood a ways from the Southern Oasis, surveying his surroundings. Friend nor foe had spotted him yet, concealed as he was by the heat shaking the sights of their surroundings, but they’d have no choice than to witness him soon. He sprinted across the desert, intending to snicker to himself, only to find not a sound passed his lips.

A gap in their illusion. How embarrassing it would have been! What if he had attempted to taunt their foe, only to be caught missing his voice? He quickly suppressed the urge to scold Zant for failing to inform him of this flaw. To cause dissonance between his two selves would collapse their plans like a house of cards. Which, obviously, he couldn’t afford, as he was already perched on the walls of the Oasis Keep, staring right into fiery red eyes that pierced into him with malice.

The Sheikah man would be his first opponent.

His perch high up above did nothing to deter this stranger whatsoever. A long dagger whistled through the air just past Ghirahim’s ear, missing him only thanks to his own last-minute dodge. Ghirahim hadn’t yet the chance to righten himself before his adversary took a running start and leapt against the corner wall, kicking himself off to clamber up and meet him at eye level. It hadn’t even taken him five seconds to get to him.

This was going to be interesting. Ghirahim knew he couldn’t lose his composure so early in the battle, but a warrior so quick and nimble made the stars dance in his core. The Sheikah was upon him in a split second, a long knife in each hand, eyes red and full of death. His strikes were lightning-fast and precise, but not fast enough to break past Ghirahim. This man was an entirely different territory from that white-haired dog. Where Impa combined her tremendous speed with heavy blows, her replacement depended entirely on the fleetness of his feet. And it carried him well. The two of them danced across the walls, locking blades like a pair of cats fighting atop a fence.

But, truthfully, Ghirahim was only humoring him. Against another human, the slashes of the Sheikah’s knives would have been lethal. But to Ghirahim, razor edges struck his sword with gentle taps at most. He had to put this boy in his place. Hilt in both hands, he boldly raised his blade to bait him with an opening – swung down quickly, to bait a crossing of knives, and catch his sword in between.

The Sheikah were a near-ageless folk, living potentially centuries longer than Hylians, if they so chose. This very moment, the Sheikah proved his youth, his inexperience, despite his prodigal martial skill. He acted exactly as Ghirahim predicted.

Now locked, Ghirahim shot him a grin, before pushing his bulk into his sword and tossing him sideways. The Sheikah shouted in surprise, stumbled. With the assistance of a showy flip and roll, he dropped off the wall and down into the dirt, quickly righting himself in fear of being ambushed.

Not a second too late! Ghirahim leaped for him, point of his sword aimed for the heart. Or, rather, aimed for the dirt, as the Sheikah darted away quickly. The pair exchanged blows, barraged each other with throwing knives, but their mutual bulk and speed resulted in nothing more than superficial injuries.

Ghirahim couldn’t outspeed him. So, he’d just have to surprise him, instead. With only a small chime to announce his departure, Ghirahim disappeared into diamonds and landed himself square in the Sheikah’s way. The boy gasped in surprise, only barely managing to stumble out the way of the obsidian sword that flew toward him in a pitch-black streak. Now, all bets were on discombobulating his foe. The Sheikah was forced to face him more carefully, locked in a fierce combat. For every escape, every attempt at sprinting away for another trick, he was punished by the phantom that appeared in his shadow and threatened to rend him to pieces.

Dark blue Sheikah armor tore to show flashes of skin and bleeding gashes, staining a deeper red every second. But Ghirahim found himself not as unscathed as he’d normally be – this puppet was fragile, meaning even the small enchantments on this warrior’s knives could hurt him. It wasn’t the same pain as he’d feel on his surface when injured. This was a magical, conjured pain, manifesting as a headache and stuttering of his core. But, injuries or not, he was winning. The Sheikah was slowing, growing into an easier target for his thrusts and merciless cleavings with every pace. And there he darted off again, some desperate manner of escaping! Of stalling time! Blood hung in the air, its particles catching delectably on his lolling tongue. He chased its source hungrily, wishing so it was his true self instead who would get to kill this wretched little thing, a mere pup in comparison to his superior. Ghirahim ached to run him through with this blade! Just a few more paces, another leap –

There was a track in the sand. In the corner of his eye, he spotted another. The Sheikah stopped at the joining of lines, readying something curved and golden.

The harp. The harp! His eyes shot to the Sheikah, who grinned at him with a squint, fingers at the ready over his blasted holy implement. Ghirahim looked back to the ground, where he now spotted an outline… And himself spot in the middle of it. An ominous hum, a faded glow, resonant below him as fingertips tensed the strings. Ghirahim turned to flee, but a second too late. With a mockingly cheerful tune, the magic glyph was activated, and a blinding field of light magic launched him out the gates of the Oasis Keep.

He skidded to a halt, clouds of sand trailing his heels as they coursed through. In his concealment, he was fortunate to find his first flaw; a black patch, crackling on the surface of his puppet. Their illusion was falling apart.

Now is the time to flee.

They thought it simultaneously, with Ghirahim immediately annoyed by Zant’s meddling.

Shielded by this cloud of sand, he turned tail and fled. Soon enough, fleeted feet dashed through the sand a little ways behind him.

Just like he wanted! Bloodlust made blind!

The next phase of their plan was imminent. He had to cross the sands to get to the cliffs, where he could funnel this little songbird into its cage. This seemed easier said and done, because the Sheikah’s tendency to make pot-shots at the enemy made it increasingly more difficult to conceal the black cracks left on his surface. He kicked up as much sand as he could in his sprint to keep himself shielded from prying eyes.

It was a mad chase. In short bursts, his adversary seemed to be faster than him, leading him to blink around to get away from the scatter of needles flying his way. A haphazard, zigzagging trail of metal pins traced their trajectory. Yet, the Sheikah seemed to be letting him escape, at least a little bit. Did he hope he was fleeing to some kind of hideout, and lead him straight there? Oh, if only he knew!

It was a good thing he didn’t. They crossed into the Cliffs Keep, revealing a dead end. Realizing it’d been a trap, before the Sheikah could fully turn, the gates slammed shut behind them.

The enraged eyes of a cornered animal met with a dark grin. The two men flung at one another, daggers in hand. But Ghirahim felt weakened – the magic holding this form together barely persisted through its many cracks, and it was slowing his reflexes. To save himself some power, he dismissed the false cape, at once revealing the web of deep black fractures spreading across his skin.

This staggered the Sheikah for a moment, but baited him all the same. Daggers crossed, he lunged forward, and drove the tips towards his core. They tangled, tipped over, and landed in the sand, Ghirahim pinned between steel and soil.

For all this man knew, this was how a Sword Spirit died. The daggers sank into his chest, and Ghirahim let the illusion crackle into shards with a pained groan.

But not before leaving his parting gift. The Sheikah choked out a breath, his pupils shrinking to pinpricks. Ghirahim had driven a dagger right into his side.

He didn’t have the privilege to see if this caused his opponent to collapse or not, for his eyes caved into dust soon after this deceitful blow. Then followed the rest of his body, leaving only a cackle to fade on the wind.

Deep black turned into an outrageously bright light. With a gasp, Ghirahim came to, finding himself held up by Zant’s arms. Never before had he felt this unsteady on his feet, this jittery like a newborn foal. His shadowy double was gone, which left him to deal with the dizziness of returning to his body. How convenient that this animate coat rack of a man was there to assist him in doing so.

Ghirahim patted Zant on the sleeve, wobbling to righten himself. “Deliciously dramatic timing, Twilight King.”

“Thanks. I thought so too.”

Zant laughed, patiently assisting Ghirahim through the last seconds of his vertigo. Once Ghirahim collected himself, Zant parted from him, again turning his gaze meditatively to the skies. “We shall let them struggle with this predicament for a little while. Then, I will take your place on the battlefield, Ghirahim-ili.”

The battle unfolded just about how they expected it would. The gates they so merrily left open were breached by opportunistic troops zealously at first, but with the imprisonment of their Sheikah general, anxious caution took the wheel. Nevertheless, critical movement took place: Lana, who had been moving through the desert, succeeded in capturing the Northern Oasis; while Link, having first guarded their home base in the Bazaar, crossed the southern sands to attempt a rescue mission.

This was their cue. While their demonic troops clashed against Link’s brigade, Zant hopped back on his feet, extending his hands.

“Care to assist me once more?”

Locked again in dance, they watched as a shadowy form knitted into being by their pedestal. The illusory shape of Zant, darker and more muted than usual, readied itself for its host. Much to Ghirahim’s chagrin, Zant was clearly more adept than he at shifting his consciousness, as his double was up and moving in mere seconds.

“You close your eyes too, Ghirahim-ili.”

“Then who will keep watch of where we’re putting our feet? Moron.”

Ghirahim jested, but nonetheless allowed himself a brief respite, and did as he was told. Behind his darkened eyelids, he saw (though subtly) the world through the eyes of Zant’s shadowy double. He briefly worried if Zant had been spying along with him, too. Then, he felt some smug satisfaction in the knowledge, as he thought he’d made for a riveting battle just then.

Not a second longer did Zant let his puppet stick around and promptly sent it away. Just in time for Ghirahim to spin the both of them around and prevent them from tumbling off the altar.

Ghirahim’s impressions of this battle were vague, bestowed upon him in flashes through Zant’s incomprehensible sense of sight. The world was a blur of overly saturated colors in the Twili’s eyes, splitting into sharply defined contours at every moving object. Of course, the rapidly approaching emerald green and blue was then clear as day, as was the glowing blade that cut through the air towards him.

But Link could not land a single hit on the Usurper’s false shape. Zant blinked himself across the sand and clapped his hands pompously, a playfully mocking tribute to Ghirahim’s favored spellcasting. At once, every gate in the battlefield slammed shut, isolating the three generals in their own death traps.

Wrathful Gerudo, Bulblins, and Stalfos poured from whatever crevice they could force themselves through to descend upon the now-isolated warriors. Whether they would surpass the Hyruleans in martial prowess remained to be seen, but surely, they’d leave not a shred of their morale untouched.

Yet Zant led the Goddess’ little hero away from the onslaught, seeming to prefer a one-on-one duel, though there’d be nothing honorable about it. This battle was an absolute waste of time, drudging Link along through the scorching desert to chase after his constantly teleporting apparition. Even if his opponent couldn’t hear it, Zant couldn’t help but giggle. With such a jovial mood, one would expect victory, but aside from Zant’s violent retaliations, his health rapidly failed him. Not only was his double on the verge of collapse, but nearly every hack and slash it endured bore down on its host. Dancing with a smile, blood gushed from Zant’s nostrils with every hit he took. Ghirahim doubted whether the desperation on his double’s part was an act – it contorted, stomped, flailing its arms and hurling wild bolts of magic at whatever blue banner-bearing shape it could see. But Zant seemed at peace, even as his puppet raised its arms to ready a bomb of pure, hexing shadow, only to find itself ran straight through by the Knight’s holy blade.

At once, the tether to their puppet was gone.

“... That’s it… Our first ruse is up,” Zant mumbled, before slumping forward, just barely caught by Ghirahim’s frame. The blood trickling from his nostrils was worrying still, so Ghirahim allowed him to collapse, lowering him carefully to sit at the edge of the pedestal. Yet, Zant declined any fussing over him, preferring instead to retreat into his mind again and survey the damage they’d done. With his ‘death’, every single gate in the battlefield flew back open – save for the Temple complex. Sitting side by side, Zant relayed what he saw through the eyes of his countless insect servants. Among the Hyruleans, there was relief, rallying cries spreading through the battlefield as they once again rushed forth to seize new territory. Their own forces still held fast. The defeat of their Lieutenants sowed seeds of anxiety, which their captains and commanders did not allow to sprout among the common infantry. Though the full plan of today was relayed to very few, every officer of repute knew not to lose hope when all seemed over.

They’d seen the captured beasts in their chains, after all, and had yet to see them surface in this battle.

One unexpected problem remained. When the gates to the Sheikah commander’s imprisonment were opened, he was already long gone. The trail of blood scaling the cliff wall toward the Temple clued them in where he could have gone. He was trapped in here with them, somewhere. Zant seemed to take nothing but amusement in that thought.

Now, there was nothing to do but wait. Wait for a surge in confidence among the Hyruleans that would raise their might and lower their guard. If this took mere minutes or hours, then the blood spilled to tip the scales would simply have to be an acceptable sacrifice. Time ticked away mostly in silence. On occasion, Zant orated an update from the battlefield with his vacant, manic gaze. Ghirahim stared at the man beside him, bloodstained as he was, and wondered how far the gray blight had crawled up his arms today.

Zant perked up sooner than Ghirahim expected and turned to him. “Their bases are almost settled. They are transporting their goods. Now is the time, Ghirahim. Will you do the honors?”

Ghirahim grinned. “Gladly.”

Within a blink, Ghirahim disappeared from the Arbiter’s Grounds and materialized far below the earth. Deluge streams of sand poured down from above – he found himself in an underground cave, discovered long ago by the Gerudo when digging for water reservoirs. Quicksand pools from above fed this ever-filling chamber with gold, like an hourglass that would never tip. Behind him was a nearly-buried gate leading to the old waterways. In front of him were cages. He didn’t want to keep the beasts inside waiting any longer; he’d kept them unfed a little too long. They frothed at the sight of him, spurred on by Zant’s blood caked into his suit.

“You’ll find something far tastier on the surface, my dears!”

One, two, three showy snaps of his fingers, and the chains bearing the monsters down disappeared. With a flex of his hands, his fist cloaked itself in glowing, purple magic. He took a running start, heading straight for the back of the cages (where the monsters’ eyes hungrily followed him), and launched himself at the massive lever that stood there. With one solid punch, the old mechanism screeched back to life, and past all its rust, the switch was flicked. A rattling that could only be produced by a machine at the end of its life echoed throughout the room. Tugged upwards by heavy chains, the cage doors were lifted, and out stormed their inhabitants.

But before they could make for the little creature that stood antagonizing them, a cascade of sand cued them in on the blue skies above. A ring tunnel of diamond magic pried open the quicksand pitfall in the ceiling and allowed these beasts the first glimpse of sunshine they’d seen in weeks.

Not to mention, the smell of fresh carcasses.

The Manhandla, a four-headed, man-eating plant; threw itself against the wall and clambered up through its web of roots. The Molduga, the very giant sandworm Ghirahim had stolen away scarce a month earlier; took to the skies and flew through the opening. The Lanmola, a cyclopean centipede; swam up the stream of sand.

But that was merely the first wave. This was the Southern Desert’s treat: the North would get its very own collection of nuisances. His next teleportation took him to the mesas in the northeast, where six pairs of eyes furiously eyed him down from within their cave prison. The caverns in these rocky mountains were straightforward tunnels, opening right into the deserts. After opening the cages, all he had to do was give them an incentive to break free.

So, naturally, he brought the entire cave to a collapse. As soon as the beasts panickedly rushed out of their prisons, Ghirahim snapped his fingers and perched himself on the Mesa’s edge, overlooking the monsters’ exit holes.

The first to break free were the two Dodongos, bulky, rock-clad lizards; curled up and rolling, shot out like cannonballs. Then came the Helmaroc King, a giant prismatic bird; shrieking wildly and leaving a storm of feathers in its wake as it beat its wings and flew off. Finally, poking out one head after the other, came the Gleeok, the three-headed dragon; with stout little legs and clumsy, serpentine necks, it sauntered to the mouth of the tunnel somewhat timidly. But at the first sight of prey below, it roared viciously and spread its draconic wings, and set off in pursuit of violence.

Ghirahim returned to his post at once, finding Zant just as vacant as he’d left him, but with far greater amusement sketching his face. The Twili didn’t appear to notice him as he sidled up next to him, hands in his sides.

“Satisfied by my handiwork, Twilight King?”

“More than, Yima Zeeioitneit,” he responded. Zant had cleaned himself up a bit in his absence, but was looking no less gaunt. “Would you like to see the fruits of your labor?”

“Gladly, I would,” Ghirahim said, keeping his apprehension about Zant’s intrusive, meddling magic to himself.

Zant shook himself out of his daze, at once standing with his eyes bright and glowing. “Then allow me some time to recuperate. I will share my clairvoyance with you in the meantime, Ghirahim-ili.”

Before Ghirahim could utter a word of questioning or protest, Zant’s shape turned pitch-black, becoming no more than a silhouette with shining eyes. A rustle sounded as the shade before him ducked down and turned into nothing more than a smudge, and, shockingly… Melted into the floor. Just like that, Zant seemed to have crawled into his shadow. There was the alarming presence of magic, certainly, but otherwise, he felt not a thing of it. At least, not until Zant fulfilled his promise. Ghirahim then learned, intimately, just what he meant by ‘clairvoyance’.

A sudden burst of droning visions took over his sight, shaking him into an unsightly stumble. Each flashed by for mere seconds before Zant flicked him over to the next, all blurring into the same haze. Only after sitting there, hands in his hair and groaning audibly, did he piece together just what he was looking at. It seemed that Zant had planted more of his Shadow Insects on the skulls of their monsters, and thus, allowed the both of them front-row seats to each individual rampage.

To the north, the Helmaroc crested to dizzying heights, carefully eyeing its companions. Yards below it, the Gleeok was circling the desert, scarcely avoiding flurries of arrows from piercing its wings. It found its point of interest in a line of provision wagons, which already had its many hands full with the giant lizards besieging it from both sides. Claws extended, it swooped down in an instant, plowing through the line of them with its razor-sharp talons.

Now out of a meal, the twin Dodongos sought their fortune elsewhere. They turned straight to the oasis, where they expected to rake in the biggest rewards, only to find the place heavily guarded. Grimoire in hand, Sorceress Lana nervously eyed down the two approaching beasts. She was a nimble woman, swiftly evading raking claws and blazing fire, but she did not take well to being surrounded. From the eyes of this Dodongo, she swooped in dangerously close. Just as the massive reptile thought to swallow her down in one gulp, a large, translucent cube was lodged in its gullet, and with the touch of the Sorceress’ hand, electrified. It shrieked and convulsed, reflexively clamping its jaws hard enough to crack its teeth, and just like that, collapsed.

This Dodongo was down for the count. But before its Shadow Insect died with it, it captured just a few more seconds. From the sound of blazing fire and the screams of their opponent, the beast’s twin appeared to hold fast.

The southern desert was similarly infested. The Manhandla had dug its roots throughout the sand, sprouting additional heads across the desert to drown it in a poisonous haze. Soon, only the dead could wander here, and the very bold. Those who dared approach the floral menace disappeared quickly past its massive teeth. Monitoring this monster led the pair of lieutenants to begrudgingly note that one of its four heads seemed to have gotten hacked off somewhere along the way. Though, they doubted they minded. If the victory was all too crushing, there would not have been any honor in it. Much less satisfaction.

This next vision was fully dark, until it burst with sudden light. How the fragile insect managed to cling on to this creature through all the sand was a mystery. From the shrill bellowing, these could only have been the sights of the Molgera, soaring through the skies in pursuit of prey. And what a target it had chosen! Skidding away from the sandworm, bow and arrow boldly drawn but visibly alarmed, was their favorite green-clad menace, his blue scarf long lost in the scuffle. He had felled the Lanmola in record time. From the look in his eyes, that wouldn’t be his only trophy of today. Whether he would fulfill that ambition was another question. The Molgera roared and dove for him, but shrieked when an arrow pierced it someplace unseen, and veered off course. It burrowed beneath the sand once more, plunging their vision in darkness. Through the roaring of sand surging past the giant beast, there was a sound; footsteps, hurrying away. The Molgera homed in on its source and launched for the surface.

It breached, it opened its maw. A scream was heard, then muffled by the resounding clap of the Molgera’s jaws snapping shut. As the Molgera twisted itself through the air, not a trace of the Hero of Legend remained.

Cackles and shouts of triumph and astonishment echoed through the Arbiter’s Grounds. Had the Twili stood beside him, rather than lie hidden in his shadow, Ghirahim would have embraced him and thrown him around the arena for good measure. What an undignified end for the little Hylian! Ghirahim was ecstatic. Already he swell with pride over the thought of informing their Master of this victory. The pair of them sang praises of this magnificent sandworm. Even after they’d treated it so cruelly, it hadn’t let them down in the slightest. Whether it could hear their words conveyed through the Shadow Insect, wasn’t their concern.

Amidst their celebration, the Molgera suddenly groaned. Shuddered. Slowed in its flight. It contorted itself, squeaking in pain, until it tore its mouth open in a shriek. The Shadow Insect lost all functionality. Its host could only be dead.

What happened? It was in the air – how had it perished!?

Zant apparently had the same questions. He frantically browsed through the Insects still alive, until he found a proper view of the events through the eyes of the Manhandla. The Molgera fell from the skies, its spiked belly slit wide open. A rain of blood and guts splattered onto the ground before its multi-ton body hit the sand, sending forth an explosive dust cloud to shroud the battlefield from all.

Surfacing from that shroud, visible through the makeshift sandstorm by a glowing silhouette, was a newcomer to today’s battlefield. Fi, doll-faced as ever, but her blue gemstone surface now tainted with viscera, had surfaced from the Hero’s blade, and freed her ‘Master’. Offering her wing, she stuck herself halfway into the Molgera’s eviscerated stomach to pull Link free, soaked in mucus and blood. The morbidity of it all seemed completely lost on her gentle smile, as she stood watching him gather himself.

Ghirahim grit his teeth. “It seems they’ve taken a page out of our book, Twili… They’re hiding commanders!”

“And where there is one, there may be more. They think they have us for fools.”

With the appearance of Fi, a Hyrulean war horn sounded in the Southern Desert. The troops in the North responded. Surfacing from Lana’s shadow was none other than Midna, who immediately clenched a keratin fist around the head of an ambushing Bulblin commander. A sense of fury bubbled forth from his shadow, and lingered somewhere in Ghirahim, too. But as much as the arrival of the Twilight Princess spelled trouble, something about her appearance soothed Zant’s mood into a bubbly giggle.

She was an imp again.

The war horn sounded in the North. Two responded; one from the Western mesas, and one from the South. Through the eyes of the Helmaroc King, a far more alarming sight poured into the desert. The troops they had fought so deftly to thin out were filling their numbers again. Vast swathes of Zora and Gorons arrived through glowing portals and raced to assist the overthrown Keeps. Only to then clash against equally large numbers of frothing demon forces, pushing each other back and forth past a faultline of trampled steel. This visceral desperation of gnashing teeth and battered armor only left the frontlines in stasis for so long. The Zora Princess, her arrival announced by a tidal wave sweeping along her own troops in massive schooling, forced an opening through the simple measure of washing away everything in her path. She came out the other end of the first line of infantry clad in silvery armor, spear in hand, looking back at the dizzied and drowning mass of demonic forces behind her. This very measure would carry her to the northern desert, where she quickly joined Lana’s side.

Lana startled when the Dodongo just in front of her was sucked into a maelstrom and launched across the sands. When she turned to find Ruto, some sort of sentimental conversation was surely being carried out. Watching from the Gleeok still soaring above the keeps, neither Ghirahim nor Zant cared to hear it. Their despairing, confused prattles were far more interesting.

The Gleeok swept in closer, ducking out the way of an impending lightning bolt sent from the Sorceress’ grimoire.

“I don’t understand, Ruto,” Lana cried. “Ghirahim and Zant were defeated, but their armies haven’t slowed down whatsoever!”

Ruto intercepted an incoming belch of fire with a watery shield, bursting it apart in glittering projectiles as she dismissed it. The Gleeok shrieked when one of its many eyes was pierced. “Desperation, it must be. It takes a pair of cowardly men like them to rig such posthumous traps!”

“Are we sure it was really them Sheik and Link defeated?” Midna cut in, surfacing from Lana’s shadow to glare down the limping Dodongo in the distance. “Like you said. They’re cowards! I’ll bet my entire treasury that the foes we saw were nothing more than illusions!”

A troubled expression dawned on Lana, which soon turned to anger. She burst out in front of the Zora Princess, spellbook at the ready, and sent out another burst of lightning. Though, this one was different. It broke apart like fireworks, each spark lighting its own deadly branch, that darted in zig-zags through the air. The Gleeok, hopeless to dodge such a flurry, lost one of its wings to countless tears and perforations and then crashed to the ground.

Before the beast could stomp its way inside the keep, Lana blocked its entrance with a crackling barrier and whipped around to look at her companions. “Then- The real Ghirahim and Zant… They must be hiding somewhere, commanding from afar!”

“Oh, they can’t be that far. Those two draw to carrion more than a common fly,” Midna grimaced, squinting to peer out into the scorching desert. “Just so happens, I got just the trick up my sleeve to get to the bottom of this. Ruto! Cover me!”

Ruto nodded, readying her spear to join Lana’s side. Lana’s barrier did not hold much longer. Every passing second, the Gleeok was driven to madness by two voices balking commands into its triplet minds, and could only think to throw itself at the magical wards harder. Finally, it burst through, and wasted not a moment to start snapping at the two warriors in its way. Lana fought grimoire in hand, turning scattered parchment into razor-sharp projectiles, while Ruto threatened every impending bite with a thrust of her spear.

While the Gleeok was rapidly losing scales to the combined assault, Midna stretched out her hand, readying a spell amidst the chaos. A gap tore itself through the fabric of reality, manifesting as a spreading shadow on the ground, soon thrumming and glowing with runes.

Stepping out of the shadows was a little girl, no older than eleven, who curtsied under the protection of her parasol. “Agitha has waited patiently as you ordered, Miss Kitty! How can she be of assistance?”

Lana was almost as disturbed by the girl’s appearance as Ghirahim and Zant, but clearly for different reasons. “A-Agitha? But… The two of you can’t just go out there alone. There are still giant monsters alive!”

The Zora Princess glanced over her shoulder, the second of distraction nearly costing her a fin to the jaws of the Gleeok. “Sorceress, if you wish to accompany them, We will hold down the Oasis.”

“Ruto, are you sure? In this weather, the Zora-”

“Do not doubt the resilience of Our people,” Ruto interjected, jabbing her spear between the plates on one of the dragon’s jugulars. “We know where their limits lie. Place your trust in Us. Now, go! Waste no precious seconds!”

“My, what a shame,” a voice echoed from the dragon. “They’ve become aware of our little plan quicker than expected.”

Zant figured to broadcast his mockery through the Shadow Insect still perched on the dethroned creature. Bleeding heavily from one of its throats, its still-living heads contorted their faces into toothy grins, the Gleeok puffed out its chest and stanced imposingly. The spread of its wings blotted out the sun above the keep, casting it in shadow.

Ghirahim found it a fine idea. “Then let them come find us! We’ll finish them off right away!”

Thus, precious seconds were wasted. By some incomprehensible measure of lollygagging, Midna stuck around while Lana and Agitha made for the desert. The pair of girls slipped past the Dodongo only thanks to Midna’s uncouth taunts, who sent wolves yipping and nipping at its front legs. A little of Zant’s own hatred for the Twilight Princess must have leaked into it, then, because the beast took the bait hook, line, and sinker. So focused it was on the hounds and the woman cheering them on behind them, that it failed to notice its remaining surroundings. Its maw opened wide, readying a blazing inferno, and aimed straight for its annoyance.

Only for said target to dodge out of the way at the very last second, dragging the Zora Princess out of the trajectory along with her. Instead, the hellfire launched across, square into the chest of the already wounded Gleeok and melting everything in its way. A weaving path of coarse glass glittered in the sand, tying the two monsters by a thread of aggression. Their dragon could not resist retaliation and lunged for its treacherous comrade.

Thus, in the Oasis, two of the beasts were tearing each other down. In the sand wastes, one last beast made itself useful. The King Helmaroc, contrary to its name, was an obedient creature, and soared as high or hovered as low as they needed it to. Through its eyes, they saw Midna had joined the pair a little after her charade of chaos.

From this vantage point, Ghirahim and Zant quietly observed their desert trek. At least, until Zant clicked his tongue, seeming annoyed. “I see now why they brought the girl. I should have expected this.”

“Somehow, even when we share the same thoughts, you manage to puzzle me. Get to the point.”

“Look closely. They have a Goddess Butterfly. It will lead them straight to us, and the labyrinth will not keep them.”

Once again, silence fell between them. Less time wasted in the labyrinth meant fewer opportunities to whittle down their strength. With this many enemy commanders, such a head start was crucial.

Even so, the thought of their plan failing ever so slightly, filled Ghirahim with a strange sense of excitement. “An unfortunate twist, but… Frankly, I was getting bored. I’m itching for a fight.”

Then, as if Zant had taken note of his excitement, he felt the warmth of a smile inside his mind. “Ghirahim-ili… When they arrive here, let us fight our hardest.”

Of course, the Helmaroc understood nothing at all of such banter. It was far more focused on the triad of two-footed creatures zipping through the sand sea. To a bird, this entourage of warriors must have looked awfully like a line of ants.

It dove down for them, talons outstretched, as if they were.

The first to react was not the Sorceress, nor was it Midna. Instead, the young girl turned a pouting face to the sky and popped the cork off a glass jar.

In an instant, a massive, emerald beetle appeared from thin air and swung its horn full-force into the Helmaroc’s gullet. Their eyes in the sky shrieked. An explosion of feathers obscured their vision as the panicked bird flailed its wings, knocked entirely off balance by the throttling of this massive bug. Zant’s quiet marvel for the adversary’s familiar was drowned out entirely by Ghirahim’s rage. How preposterous! This massive bird of prey, knocked out of the sky by a mere insect!? He took the reins immediately.

The beetle now dismissed, the Helmaroc King chased after the girls on foot, pouncing at them with its claws and jabbing with its beak. But just as it started to get the drop on the group, the Temple complex was in sight, and the doorway they slipped through would never fit their bird.

When the Helmaroc was left behind them, squawking and pacing indignantly at the gate, the trio chased the little glowing insect through the Temple’s ever-twisting halls. Following this journey proved to be a pain. Zant had only set up Shadow Insects in so many corridors, and tracking their trajectory was a dizzying flurry of different angles and crowding soldiers. Yet, Zant managed to follow them in glimpses. Hyrulean and Demon soldiers alike had swarmed the place, fighting pointless battles in corridors leading nowhere. Undead gaolers were already scavenging the heaps of dead and injured, either locking those still breathing in chains, or ripping the bones from the freshly deceased to replenish their own limbs. Thus, the pair of women led a child over this carpet of corpses. The girl’s fighting ability mattered very little here – they were under the protection of Midna and her wolves, but even then, little ‘Agitha’, as they’d called her, looked too stunned to do anything but keep running.

Along the way, found tearing the talons of a Dinolfos to replenish his throwing needles, was the Sheikah warrior. He had forfeited his turban to use it as a makeshift bandage for the wound in his side. The group swiftly urged him along. Striking down whatever station guards stood in their way, they reached the deeper bowels of the temple, where lines of defense grew more and more scarce.

The three eldest of the company grew more skeptical with each step. Midna leaned closer to Agitha, whispering something the Shadow Insect could not perceive.

“The Goddess Butterfly is never wrong, Miss Kitty,” the young girl assured. She seemed to have full confidence in the butterfly’s sense of direction, and faltered not even a second in chasing after it. And that confidence was well within her right, for Ghirahim recognized these corridors. They would reach their location in no time flat.

Soon, the ground beneath the group’s feet turned sandier and sandier, until the stone tiles were completely covered. They reached a dark chamber, lit only through the cracks of ventilation slits above the massive stone door across them. The butterfly fluttered across without a care, landing on the dusty surface of the door, and fanned its wings in rest. Agitha was about to tromp right after it, but the Sheikah stopped her with a firm hand on her shoulder. He pushed her back, right into Lana’s protective embrace.

Painfully slow, annoyingly cautious, the Sheikah inched into the clearing of the room step by step. He could check for traps, he could listen for mechanisms and dowse for curses or enchantments, but he would find none. Instead, something found him.

A stinger, tall enough to almost scrape past the ceiling, shot out from the sand, and jabbed at the intruder. Its menacing needle missed only by the grace of the commander’s reflexes, pushing the tail out of its trajectory with a talon dagger, but failing to crack carapace. Shaking itself out of the sand, the final bastion had revealed itself. The Moldarach, a massive scorpion of centuries old, screeched and chittered a word of warning. Its pincers snipped menacingly, tendons tight and fierce. Yet, under the threat of its lightning-fast stinger, the little girl was least afraid of them all.

Agitha looked up at the Moldarach in awe and rummaged in her basket, not taking her eyes off the creature once. “Ohh, I’d hate to hurt such a beautiful bug… I’m sorry, li’l one! But I don’t have a big enough bottle to keep you in!”

From it she retrieved an armful of glass jars, brandishing them as if they were explosives. Her entourage backed away hastily, clearly knowing far more about the contents of those jars than the Moldarach could. She tossed the jars with a sweep, racking them on the scorpion’s hard carapace at first impact. Out swarmed dozens of glowing, spectral butterflies, that headed straight for the first sign of soft flesh they could find: the Moldarach’s eyeball. The beast recoiled, pawing at its face in an attempt to shake the pests off, but it was fruitless. It could now only depend on the eyeballs hidden within its pincers, but in doing so, it revealed the soft tendons holding its claws together. Midna and the Sheikah exchanged a look, seemingly sharing an idea.

Getting up close to this creature proved to be a challenge. Lunging in to take out its claws also meant being subjected to the monster’s lightning-fast reflexes, and Midna found herself trapped in its clutches soon enough. It squeezed, digging the teeth of its claws into her flesh dangerously. They hardly even needed the Shadow Insect for this – they could hear her cries of pain through the door. A little more and it might have killed her, had the Sheikah commander not severed the tender meat in its other claw. Its grip on the imp loosened in its distress and she managed to slip away, evading its gaze long enough for it to lose sight of her. The clash of claw, stinger, and blade continued, though the Moldarach grew more fatigued by the minute. Butterflies continued to eat at its face and attached themselves to whatever nerve opening they could find. Thus the creature slowed, its jabs and lunges losing their accuracy, until at long last it ceased its attacks altogether. They saw no use in waiting until the monster fully died; their little band of foils took this earliest opportunity to flee and push through the door.

The door slid open, grinding down coarse sand of centuries old as it slotted into the wall, and allowed the quartet of Hyruleans into the Coliseum. In the center they saw Ghirahim, lounging atop the Keep’s crumbling walls and examining his nails.

Midna scowled, her fangs bared. She felt at the wounds on her chest, already scabbed over – so quickly? – and glanced to her side, where the child stood waiting expectantly. “Great work, Agitha. Now get out of here.”

At this command, Agitha looked to the Sheikah man with big, glittering eyes, smiling when he met her gaze with a nod. She curtseyed – if Ghirahim didn’t know any better, he’d think it was at him – and, with a dainty clutch of her frock, hopped down a Twilit portal.

“There you are, Demon!” Midna turned to foul, biting language the moment less-matured company was out of earshot. “Just you, huh? Go on. Cough it up! Where’s Zant? I don’t believe we got rid of him back in the desert. Not one bit!”

Ghirahim laughed, once again donning his gloves. Now more appropriately dressed, he hopped down from his perch and landed with a feathery flourish. Now that he seemed to be alone, and outnumbered at that, he decided he could afford a bit of taunting. He hummed, tapping thoughtfully at his chin with a wildly exaggerated gesture. “Oh, who can say? You make such a poor host out of me. All these questions, yet I’ve no intent to answer them!” Resting his hand on his cheek, he turned to Midna with a grin. With a puff of diamonds, he vanished, then reappeared before Midna, leaning down to glare at her with one pair of big, buggy eyes to another. “Say, I have one of my own. You look different. New haircut?”

Midna bared her teeth in a snarl, the fist at the end of her ponytail balling tightly until its fibers threatened to give. She lunged for him, the massive orange hand open and clawed. When his defending sword caught on the curved metal of her bangle, she leaned in with a grin. “Real jester you are! I take it this was your idea, then? That gaudy-masked imp told me to send you its regards.”

Majora. Ghirahim winced. It was getting a little too quiet on the Arch Demon’s front, he’d thought. But to rear its head again and mess with the Demon King’s enemies… There was no telling of its little plans. He turned his blade with a flick of his wrist, threatening to sever her hair at the shackle, and forced her back. “If I wanted you to be cursed, I’d ask someone more reliable.”

His eye flicked to the ground. Where he stood now, the low angle of the light stretched his shadow to that of the Keep’s walls…

Zant emerged from the shadows in an instant, mere inches behind Midna, and swung at her like wings on a windmill. She shielded herself with the hair-clad hand of her ponytail, only to realize within a split second that the Twilight King’s new blade cut right through it. Ducking quickly out of the way, she spun through the air, launching herself to stand closer to her two companions.

“It is a shame about your plight, Twilight Princess. I would have preferred to fight you in a more dignified form.”

When Midna forfeited a reply to glare him down, he laughed, turning to the altar behind him. “Nostalgic, is it not?” Zant waxed, his arms spread as he spun himself to the center of the coliseum. “The birthplace of our people. And perhaps, where the last of us will meet our end.”

Midna then made the grave mistake of taking his poetics as an opening and launched for him, the hand on her ponytail outstretched. The giant fist clenched around empty air when Zant promptly warped out of her way. Placing himself beside her momentum, he swung his scimitar down like a cleaver.

In an instant, magical wards were shattered. Showered in a foreboding glitter of gold, Midna cried out and smacked to the ground. But before Zant could lift his blade again and cleave her in half properly this time, the Sheikah dashed in to intervene. Only to then, himself, be driven to his knees by the daunting force of the Twilight King’s blade. It was two against one; each time Zant had subdued the one foe, the other would step in to try and take him out through his flanks. But Zant was too quick, his blade too sharp. Screeches rang out when the scimitar coursed past the edges of the Sheikah’s daggers, filling their cutting edges with worrying chips. Then, the first of them shattered to pieces completely.

Amidst it all, Zant cackled maniacally, madness tugging at his sweat-drenched brow with each swing of his sword. “Witness me, Ghirahim! We are unstoppable!”

But Ghirahim had very little time to witness. Lana had chosen him as her opponent and did everything in her power to keep him from uniting forces with his co-lieutenant. Frankly, he was a little amused that the Sheikah had not dared to face him a second time. But moreso, insulted, that the Demon Lord was not deemed a terrible enough foe to require backup to challenge. Tongue lolling from his lips in mockery and Annihilation in hand, he decided to make the Sorceress severely regret underestimating him.

Scratches tore through his robes and the strikes that hadn’t broken through his leather mail had surely bruised him, but Zant didn’t seem discouraged by injury whatsoever. Instead, he pushed through, seeking risk after risk and tearing through everything that opposed him. Soon, that boldness was awarded. Midna held up her hair-clad fist to defend herself, and Zant carved through two of its fingers as if it were made of wet paper.

Zant screeched with delight. “Your weeks of bedrest have atrophied your skills, Princess! While you lay there rotting in your own misery, I have gotten stronger!”

Midna growled, ducking behind the Sheikah to conceal herself from his bloodthirsty glee. Ghirahim, though, could see everything. Portals appeared in the shadows and from it surfaced a trio of wolves, each raising its hackles before bursting past the Sheikah and charging at the Usurper.

“Such cheap tricks will not work a second time,” Zant clicked his tongue.

Then, with a gust of wind, he launched himself backward and well out of range of the two warriors. With a single twirl, he drew a circle in the sand with his feet, and raised his arms to the skies. When he parted his lips to speak, every shadow stilled at once, slithering beneath the feet of each combatant, turning the air thick and heavy.

The air grew heavy, stopping every warrior in their tracks. A pale blue light shone from above, but none dared take their eyes off him to look for its source.

One by one, limbs limp and gangly in their descent, three creatures fell from the sky. Upon hitting the ground, their bodies contorted as they rose, each more bizarrely and stiffly than the next. They were massive, gray things, fitted with stone masks upon their faces and a mass of wet, slithering tentacles pouring from their faces.

Without even having to command them, the monsters galloped on all fours to throw themselves at the hounds. They entangled in a mess of rune and shadow, tumbling through the dust in a bestial scuffle. Midna looked on with horror.

Her companion had different concerns. Distracted by the sounds of magic, she whipped around. “That spell… How does he know that spell!?”

Just as Lana yelped, beset once more by the Demon Lord’s blade, Zant scoffed. “Did I not say I have gotten stronger!?” he taunted, knocking another brittle dagger out the hands of the Sheikah.

“Stronger!? And yet you rely on them?” Midna shouted, hurtling herself past her fellow commander to throw herself at Zant in a raging flurry. Where Zant could not parry her, he settled for shooting her from the air at point-blank with his projectiles. “How dare you utter even a word of affection toward our people, when you force their mutilated bodies to fight for your own gain!”

“Make your dogs stop attacking them, then,” Zant said, thoroughly nonplussed. At last, he forced both combatants off of him with a resounding shock wave, rattling even Ghirahim’s core where it rested in his metal.

When the ringing in his mind subsided, a different, familiar sensation took over Ghirahim. A blinking sound deep within him, imperceptible before, now alerted him to the presence of his kin. Fi – and by extension, most likely the green-clad knight tagging along – was fast approaching. “Oh, thank Our Lord, your cavalry is arriving. I was worried it would get a little too easy.”

Lana fell to the ground as Annihilation jabbed into her ribs. Its point bounced off stronger wards than he’d been met with before, and though Ghirahim didn’t exactly break skin, she clutched her chest with a groan either way. All three of their opponents exchanged a worried look, doubtlessly contemplating how to best gang up on them as they were bound to do.

Just as each of the Demon lieutenants took a step forward, deciding whose head to lop off first, new presences made themselves known. Pointing the glowing Goddess Blade forward in dowsing, Link entered through the stone gate, with Fi soon joining by his side. This second of distraction, a spark of hope for Hyrule, was just enough for the lot of them to scramble back to their feet and cluster into tight formation.

“Everyone, watch out,” Lana shouted, grimoire at the ready. “Only those with the Triforce can wield that magic!”

“He still has it?” Midna asked, eyeing Zant with her fangs bared.

Not expecting that reply, Lana turned to Midna, eyes wide with shock. “Still!?”

“Oh, so you remembered,” Zant chimed, making his way to the clustered group without hesitation. “Our Master is quite generous with his gifts. A small piece of that power is all I need to decimate the lot of you, who now have none at all. You would do better not to underestimate us!”

Midna’s eyes darted between her companions. A heaving, determined sigh tore through her. Then, her enraged expression twisted into a malicious grin. Her arms raised, she placed her hands on either side of her helmet. “Doesn’t matter. I could best you then, and I can do it now!”

The Coliseum was bathed in shadow. Midna drew darkness to her like a cyclone. Where Zant’s shadowy magic was warm and suffocating; a pulsing, all-consuming parasitic disease, hers was an eerie chill. From the pitch-black surrounding her feet, three ancient stone artifacts, the Fused Shadows, surfaced and encased her like a tomb.

When the first spidery legs burst forth from the bottom of the Twilight Princess’ stone-hewn armor, Ghirahim found himself beset by his own opponents. Link, drenched almost completely red with monstrous blood, ran for him, aiming right for his chest. Disappointed, almost, that the boy had learned nothing, he took hold of the blade with his bare hand, flicking it aside just in time to be able to step out the way of Fi’s impending kick. They were teaming up against him again, just as their other, more wounded companions were now piling on Zant. Where worry once would have possessed him, Ghirahim was now buzzing with nothing but thrill. The boy was already exhausted. He would get to tug the cords of his life from him strand by strand, and he hardly had to break a sweat to do so.

With that ever-lasting nuance and his dancing blade demanding his every second, Ghirahim couldn’t spare a glance at his battling compatriot. Not even as tendrilous arms, gnarled and glowing like smoldering branches of wicker, scampered around this battlefield, their incessant thumping shaking the rubble off the walls. Dust and pebbles rained down from above, only to be meticulously carved into halves by his sword. Some time ago, the duo of Link and Fi had bested him.

But back then, he didn’t have this blade. Annihilation soared and carved, striking hard enough to make even the stone-faced Goddess Blade wince as he parried her swinging legs. With this power, enemy numbers didn’t matter – he would win.

A twinge of anxiety simmered in him nonetheless. While he could indeed not spectate the battle behind him directly, he caught impressions from the piece of himself, wielded by his co-lieutenant. A screech of metal, a beast recoiled. Hair-coiled fists he so easily carved through minutes past now felt solid as rock. Midna could not find a way through his defenses, and the ground shook as she struggled away from his offenses. Those that dared to try left a taste of blood upon his blade, however slight. Weapons crashed into each other in such a cacophony he could no longer distinguish the flashes of light in his own battle, from the ones imposed on him by Zant’s hands. To any mortal, such a barrage of violence would render them collapsed in the confusion, but to Ghirahim, it was Paradise.

Yet, this could not last long. Caught in bladelock with Link, he swiftly kicked the boy off of him when an alarming sensation overtook him. The part of him resting within the Demon Scimitar overloaded him with visions. With the uttering of strange words, Lana had bypassed Zant’s wards. Metal groaned eerily, then exploded, shrapnel shooting into the sand. An inky-black fist clutched around an equally black steel javelin, then threw it whistling through the air. But Midna didn’t aim for the now staggered Zant – she aimed at the ceiling. Chunks of stone and wispy sands rained down, blinding all who waited below, until the dust cleared. Zant noticed it before anyone else, and burst out into a shriek when sunlight flooded every corner of the Coliseum.

They hounded him like a pack of starved wolves. More blinded than ever and his skin blistering, Zant couldn’t defend himself from the Sheikah’s assault, nor Link’s, nor Lana’s, all the while Fi kept Ghirahim across the arena. His guard dog, forced away from its flock. With every second in the sun, Zant was weakening. He simply couldn’t keep up, not while blinded and in agony like this. With desperate flings of their sword, he only barely managed to deflect the blows that would have otherwise sliced his head off. Blood stained the sand around him as strike after strike tore through his armor like it was no more than air. When his weapon finally fell from his hands, Midna took it as a sign, and grappled his battered body with a tendril for each limb. When he lifted his face, his stare was aimless, but full of malice.

“Sheik, now!”

Lana commanded, desperately eyeing the still-bleeding Sheikah commander. He complied with a nod too serene for such a boyish warrior. A glow gathered in his palms, abstract and foggy at first, until he grasped it, held it before him, and drew the string. Fuzzy sparkles shed from the light-made object, revealing its true form.

A bow. With a single blink, the Sheikah’s eyes turned from red to crystal blue.

It was the Princess! Ghirahim’s body froze over. In Zant’s current state, that single arrow would be fatal. What could stun their Master was deadly poison to his underlings.

An inhibition, once hard-coded into every fiber of his being, now shattered. Annihilation felt feather-light in his hands but crashed into Fi with the force of a stampede. A single facet chipped off her core, and would still be floating in the air when Ghirahim bolted to the center of the arena. Step, after step, after step, pummeling the sand into craters. The arrow nocked and braced, was then released. Ghirahim disappeared. A whistle, fletchings quivered in the air. Ghirahim burst into view in the middle of the Coliseum, arms outstretched. He grabbed Zant by the shoulders, and with a chime of diamond magic, they were gone.

The arrow pierced into the Keep wall. A piece of Fi’s core fell into the sand. Out of the five warriors present, none of them had been able to prevent their escape.

He needed shadows. There was only one place that would suffice. Around them, the world turned monochrome. With the Twili tucked carefully in his arms, he set his sights far beyond the labyrinth and took them both to the Palace. Nowhere would be darker than the quarters of the Twilight King.

Sheets hastily ripped off, bedding drenched in darkening blood. Zant lay stiff and unmoving, gasping like a fish, struggling none as Ghirahim ripped his clothes from him. A decorative fastening pin flew and clattered across the tile floor. Zant’s portrait above them looked on with a smirk.

Hyrulean weapons had gone right through his armor. He was a mess of red-stained wool and torn leather, gaping wounds pulsing fresh blood. Far too much of it. Ghirahim ripped the cork off a potion bottle with his teeth and shoved the glass opening to Zant’s lips, who coughed and sputtered as the thick liquid gushed down his gullet.

“Just this- Just this, and you will be alright. Stay with me,” Ghirahim hissed, keeping a close eye on the Twili’s battered body. Wounds closed up, but too many remained raw and open. Cursing under his breath, he snipped his fingers, keeping one hand – glove bunched underneath his grip – pressed heavily to a gash on Zant’s thigh. And what a useless measure it was. This wound was just one of many that needed his attention. The sheets he tore from the cupboards, drenched in water from his nightstand washing table and spilled bourbon, soon lost their white cleanliness to deep, deathly red.

Needle and thread summoned themselves with a snip of his fingers. Sewing implements, but Ghirahim had little else in his reach. Zant cried and whined when the makeshift gauze was now pressurized by a knee, Ghirahim’s hands too occupied with the needle. Bent into a rounded angle around his finger, sterilized with a flame. He thread the needle and set to pushing it through flesh.

“I’d say your crying brings me misery, Zant,” he grinned, an expression creeping on him purely from his nerves, “but do not stop. At least then I know you are alive and conscious.”

Pierce, tug, tie, and snip. Rhythmic and perfect, Ghirahim mended wound by wound. He knew how to carve flesh, so too, did he know how to sew it back together. Each wound bled with different severity. His midriff, his legs, his chest. There, he’d been carved down to the rib, surrounded by irritated flesh and glowing veins. The body tormented by these injuries cried and cried, but had not the strength to even writhe. As focused as Ghirahim was, his eyes still strayed and flicked to his right. Zant’s naturally pallid complexion helped him absolutely none in telling how much time he had. But his fading patterns did. Their teal glow almost ceased. Another potion. This time, he poured some of it directly on the still-opened wounds, hoping their sizzle would burn the veins shut. Zant was awake enough to swallow the rest of it, but not to protest against the drops that snuck into his windpipe. Only when Ghirahim had turned him on his side to tend to his back did the healing liquid’s magical effect rejuvenate him enough to rasp and hack it up. He shrieked immediately when the sudden jolt caused Ghirahim’s needle to stick him.

“Keep whining, please,” Ghirahim muttered. “If you have enough energy to act childish, then…”

Zant hissed, growled, snarled, every tug of the thread now an affront. His toes curled and his fingers dug in the sheets, weakly, but characteristically, either way. When every wound he could see was stitched, Ghirahim took the cords of lacing out the loops at his back and rid Zant of his final layer. Red, white, black; teal slowly returning, if it wasn’t simply the phosphorescent glow of the room around them. In a few days, this body would be a rainbow of bruises. Should he last that long.

Only then did Ghirahim allow himself to draw breath. Not as a necessity, but as a soothing tic, to come back to his senses and for a second empathize with a mortal man. He slumped onto the bed, his head resting on Zant’s chest. It was in this rest that the full gravity of the past minutes reached him. Rather, it jumped full force onto his back, its weight forcing him into immobility and sinking him into the bed. Ghirahim couldn’t recall when he started weeping; he’d been on auto-pilot from the second Zelda nocked her arrow.

Zant’s heartbeat thumped against his forehead, hard and heavy as it would whenever the Twili had a lump in his throat. Its pace quickened when Ghirahim spoke. “I almost lost you.”

Zant’s hand raised, then dropped onto Ghirahim’s back. Cold fingers stroked him softly. “You may still, Oibedelrik, Yima Daegge Esweteli,” Zant whispered hoarsely, forcing his words out with the nigh manual contracting of his rib muscles. “Odowuni kem idzidiy Iya, ee Iya-” he murmured, his eyes rolling to the backs of their sockets. His eyelids fluttered shut, then shot back open, revealing darting pupils as if he’d just remembered where he was. “I am not yet bandaged,” wheeze, “and when my blood returns to me,” wheeze, “I may yet fall to fever.”

“Shut up.” Banish the thought. As if he would be so negligent! A doctor, he was not, but as much as he could bring death, he could also spot its tellings, and he did not intend on letting it rear its head again. Ghirahim closed his eyes, listening intently to his pulse – as if it would slip away if he turned away for even a second – then raised himself to finish the job.

He had to go back to the battlefield. There was no telling whether all their beasts had been defeated or not, or whether they even had a chance to take down Hyrule’s commanders. He would return, alone if he had to, Ghirahim decided as he stroked a warm, wet cloth along the dried blood on Zant’s torso where his stitches did not taint him. But he’d only leave when Zant was stable.

In his spiraling, Zant’s hand had found its way to his hair, running its fingers through the strands. For once, Ghirahim cared not how bloodstained he would get. Zant’s weak voice muttered, slipping between heaving breaths. “All of them, at once… I foresaw many, but every caste and clade…”

“I know, I know,” Ghirahim responded, wringing the blood from the reddened cloth. “But the more we whittle down today, the less prepared they’ll be when Master strikes.”

“There is no ‘we’, Ghirahim. I cannot fight like this. I was bested once again.”

“I will take care of it,” Ghirahim muttered, a frown on his brow. He thought it ripe time to change the subject. “The Princess, disguising herself as a Sheikah... I’d almost say she exceeded us in trickery today.”

Zant sighed, his arm quickly becoming deadweight in his hand as Ghirahim took it for bandaging. That strange gray on his skin had spread almost no further. “Posing as a substitute for General Impa, I reckon.”

Ghirahim left Zant to his musings and grew oddly giddy with his own. The thrill of battle and clawing his companion away from death’s door scalded him from within, filling him with an inexplicable well of energy.

“But if the Princess is here… That’s good news, wouldn’t you say?” Ghirahim began to prattle, a manic tug at his brow as he pinned the last few bandages in place. “Fewer commanders are guarding the palace than we expected. If we hurry and inform Master Ganondorf, surely–”

“Ghirahim–”

But Ghirahim did not hear him. Whatever he said then, he could not even recall himself, so thoroughly he was caught up in a whirlwind of plans.

“Ghirahim, stop.”

The pair met eyes in silence, one still wearing a bewildered grin, the other lying grim and pale on what was almost his resting place. “There is no point. Your revelation will fall on deaf ears. We were never meant to leave this desert.”

Ghirahim’s expression dropped, managing only a slight grin in his confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Master sent us here to die.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ghirahim frowned, fighting off a pit of dread in his gut. This was just his usual delirium, he thought. The same madness shaken into him by fear and injury, like it had Volga.

Zant, however, did not take his struggle kindly. He frowned at him indignantly. “You call me ridiculous? You deceive even yourself. Face it, Ghirahim. We are two against seven of Hyrule’s finest commanders. This was a suicide mission from the start, as I suspected Death Mountain must have been, too.”

“... But-” Ghirahim struggled, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Zant was a liar, he knew this. But now? To him? About something like this? Neither possibility, not Zant deceiving him so brazenly, nor being abandoned by his Master, computed in his mind. “We were- What could I have done to displease him to this degree? Why would he want to be rid of me? You speak nonsense!”

“You did nothing, Ghirahim. You are perfect. Your sole crime was associating with me. For me, it was only a matter of time until he did away with me. He is unworthy for the throne, and, one way or the other, I would have stopped him from seizing it.”

Ghirahim froze. Pieces fell on the ground before him but he didn’t dare to watch them assemble. Something hot and furious was starting to thaw the ice of his shock from within. “What?”

“Your surprise tells me he did not even bother to confirm his suspicions before abandoning you.” With a huff and groan, he shifted, trying to prop himself upright on his pillow. The grimace he pulled in his pain remained in his face, molded from rage and hatred. “I detest him, Ghirahim, and finally he has noticed it. He must have known I wished for his death, and that I intended to follow through.”

Ghirahim staggered away from the bed as if pushed. An instant revulsion forbade him from staying anywhere near the wounded man before him, and in his disgust, he willingly followed this instinct. He scowled at him, wide-eyed and vicious, tongue lashing and drenched with venom. “So your title was given to you for good reason. I cannot believe my ears. Immature little boy, you are! Our accursed usurper, unable to keep his grubby claws off any throne when he grows the slightest bit displeased. You ungrateful wretch!”

“Ungrateful? You know not what you speak of,” Zant scowled right back, tears of rage welling up in his eyes and his teeth bared. The Lord of Twilight turned to him unflinchingly, hunched like a pouncing beast as if his drive to convince him had filled him with fresh vigor. “In my time, Ganon was to me what Demise was to you. My God, I adored him,” he waxed, hands covering his face in grief. “I did his bidding. I worshiped him, freed us both from our decrepit prison. Yet, when I gave my life for him, he broke his promise to me. Instead of freeing my spirit to rule by his side, he took everything I ever worked for. And then- then-” Zant paused, hands falling limply into his lap. “When defeated by his little foil, when the strings of his soul dared touch upon mine to beg for my assistance, I denied him.”

Zant’s eyes turned to him again. The first hints of a smile pulled at the corner of his lips. “You understand, don’t you? It was no hero, no princess, who slayed the Demon King in the age of Twilight. The one to deliver the final blow, was me.”

That very second, a little part of Ghirahim’s world shattered. When he realized the consequences of plotting alongside a man so treacherous, the rest shattered with it. Right under his nose, Zant had made an enemy of his Master, and by extension, of Ghirahim. There were questions he wanted to ask, insults to be hurled. He could only think of one question, that bubbled to the surface of his heart like scum in a boiling pot. “How long have you plotted this?”

Zant lowered his gaze, for as far as the stare of a near-blind man mattered. “From the very start,” he admitted, sighing. “After such a betrayal, to awaken to another manifestation of my tormentor, and have him once again demand my services… He may as well have spat in my face. Though, I admit, for a little while, I buckled. Somewhere, I must have loved him still, drawn to his power and our shared hatred for Hyrule as I was. I wanted to see if I could trust this version of him, who seemed so noble. But after your stories, Ghirahim, how his incarnations cast you aside so carelessly… I made up my mind. Ganondorf does not change.”

“So then all of this was just a lie, part of your plans?” Ghirahim asked, his voice quaking. He didn’t care for Zant’s excuses, not when they pulled every minute he spent by his side into question. Not when they sabotaged everything he’s ever stood for. “I, too, just a little scheme for you?”

Zant gasped, inching closer to the edge of the bed to look at him in pleading. “No, Ghirahim. How could I have foreseen this? I came to you seeking an ally, and I found a new reason for my heart to beat. For every lie I have told you, I have spoken to you as many truths tenfold, in how I’ve grown to love you. It is only because of you I have made it this far. You’ve given me peace, soothed my soul when I threatened to bubble over. And, more importantly, Ghirahim-ili, you have made a warrior of me.” Zant urged, attempting a smile, his hand outstretched. “Which is why I ask you to join me.”

Ghirahim was too stupefied by his words to answer. So Zant took advantage of his silence to continue. “You know now of my hatred, my every motivation. Yet you stay loyal to him, even if you must know he will not spare you. He has not spared you, for he resigned someone so loyal to him to the same fate he did a traitor.”

His arms snaked around himself, his nails digging in the false skin of his arms. Ghirahim took another step back; the Twili’s presence alone made it feel like insects were crawling inside his steel, tunneling through him like termites. His mind hit a roadblock, reached a final terminal, and the logic Zant asked from him sat horizons away where his tracks would not reach. “... Then if Master wills it-”

Zant shot up in his seat, snapping at him before he could finish his sentence. “Do you know how it hurts me, Ghirahim? To see someone so precious to me tear himself apart over someone who would shatter him on a mere whim? After all you do for him, he denies you at every turn and punishes you for the barest things. It has taken every shred of composure I had not to tear into him when he threatened to hurt you. If I had not hated him before, the way he treats you would have convinced me to.”

He’d avoided his eyes up until then, but Ghirahim now shot his gaze straight at him. They exchanged a scowl, each gnashing teeth, one from hatred, one from love. Desperation seized him and sharpened his edge.

Ghirahim made for him and pushed him back into the pillows. “You know not what you ask of me. To think I would care what hurts you now, after what you’ve told me! You speak of whims? You’re asking me to abandon my every purpose for something as small as your mortal love. My purpose is all I have. It is me. To ask me to betray Demise is to doom myself to scrap, Zant.”

Zant had refused a squeak when he was shoved. With tears in his eyes, he simply laid there, glaring at him. He cradled a freshly ruptured suture through its bandages. “You are not yourself when you speak of him! Listen to the words you spew! Scrap!? So highly you think of yourself, you carry yourself as the priceless artifact that you are, yet when around him, you are degraded to the ranks of mere tools.”

Ghirahim gripped his hair in wild frustration. “Because- I am precisely as perfect as I am because of Him! Without Him, without a hand to wield me, I am nothing.”

Zant stared at him, perturbed, before groaning in his agony and sinking into his pillows. For a moment, he wilted again, speaking bitterly as he resigned himself. “Then you have been, and will be nothing, for a very long time.”

In an instant, his vision went red. “How dare you!”

Ghirahim pounced him, hands outstretched and clawed, landing square upon his chest, ignoring the grit of Zant’s teeth, his squirms, his pained squeaks. All he paid attention to were his wide-open eyes and the fear he could milk out of them. He gripped him fiercely by the shoulders and shook him as he spoke. “It’s all your fault, isn’t it!? Why he would not wield me! Why I could not gain his trust!? All because of your greed, he now sees me as a conspirator to your rotten betrayal.”

His hands found Zant’s throat and squeezed. Ghirahim leaned in close, fangs bared. Zant did nothing. Just the sight of those glowing pupils fueled the fire of his rage. “A thousand miserable years I’ve waited, working hard to see him again. Do you have any idea what I’ve been through? Your puny, mortal mind could never comprehend the lengths I’ve gone to!”

He reared back his fist, and still Zant did nothing. “Now I can wait thousands more, and he will never wield me again!!”

Ghirahim panted amidst his accusations, tears streaming down his cheeks the second they beaded in the corners of his eyes. He scanned the Usurper’s eyes for substance, for anything that wasn’t pity. When he didn’t find it, he snapped. Before he knew it, his fist connected to Zant’s cheekbone. Crack. “How could you do this to me? We were going to win!” Crack. “I would finally have been happy, after I’ve been alone for so long, and you RUINED everything for me!”

Crack. Snap. A whimper. There wasn’t an inch of Zant’s face untainted by blood and bruising, and still, that horrible fool did nothing to stop him. “I should kill you!”

He sent Zant’s head twisting left to right, right to left, with each punch. His heart had broken twice over today. First, shattered to pieces from all hope of becoming his Master’s blade. Then, its shards were trampled by the very man below his relentless assault, who had punished him so severely for daring to open himself to that mortal love. What a complete and utter fool he’d been. He should have expected to be punished like this, for entering a world he didn’t belong in.

And still, past the swollen, blood-smeared skin, Zant did not take his gut-wrenching eyes off of him, trying to fool him into loving him again to save his own measly life. It was an outrage! A betrayal this massive, and Zant had the gall to try and garner his sympathy. To assert they were alike in fate. There was only one who had lost everything, whose prospects were null, and who was only living on borrowed time. Only one banished from his home, his every goal snatched from before his nose. Only one whom his Master truly abandoned, to never be forgiven.

… No.

There were two.

Before his fist could crash into him once more, a convulsion tore through Zant’s body below him. Within the blink of an eye, he changed. His skin lost all color, turning a deep, shadowy black, while his patterns dimmed, and his hair bristled into a brittle white, like spider’s silk.

Zant was dying.

The ties to the Demon Scimitar pulsed in his chest. There lied that rebellious little dagger, the one that thumped against the walls of his core whenever this wretch would look at him in his strange ways. Did it not feel good? Its little voice whispered in his mind. Even if it was such a small piece of you in his hands, did it not fill you with joy? Master will not wield us, and this world has so few who are worthy of us. Is it not better to rest part of you in capable hands, than in nothing at all?

Ghirahim clutched his head, begging for silence. He could not handle even a second of doubt, of weakness. If this man were simply dead, everything would be so much easier. If he were the one to kill him, Master would forgive him. But are you ready for him to die?

He was. He would have to be. He wanted to be. It would be so simple. He just wanted to be wielded. To be held in someone’s hands, to be part of something greater.

He wanted to be loved.

Please, help him.

Oh, God. What has he done?

He detested the despairing little squeak behind him as he walked away from that deathbed. Even more, he reviled himself, for glancing behind and allowing the teeth of guilt to sink into him at the pitiful sight of that beaten creature.

What he hated most was how he’d been convinced to return after his brief departure, healing elixirs in hand, and seeing tear-drenched eyes looking at him with a bloody smile.

Don't look at me like that, you horrible man. You’ve ruined my life.

But that pitiful part of him felt relieved how Zant could smile at the sight of him still. How Zant was glad to see him, even after attempting to take his life mere seconds earlier. A withered hand shook as it reached out for him. Ghirahim took it and squeezed.

The room was silent as Ghirahim nursed Zant back to health. Far, far into the desert outside, chaos was unfolding. The few remaining giant monsters were now surely being slaughtered, and their troops would have to cherish idle hopes of succeeding in their reign of terror, in their commanders’ absence. Deep, deep below the ground, Gerudo and Bulblin who could not fight were taking shelter in the dungeons, waiting for the pounding footfall to fade away and leave them in peace.

Neither side knew they were here. They would sit in this room, disturbed only by the glare of Zant’s portrait, judging this pathetic display. Zant strained to breathe. His complexion had inverted almost to its original colors, while his hair returned to its original, rosewood shade. However, some strands retained that ghostly white from before. Ghirahim hoped it would be permanent. He hoped he would remember this accursed day every time he was confronted with his reflection.

Never before had shadows bothered him. Now, in the deep darkness of Zant’s bedroom, it suffocated him. Neither of them said a word. There was nothing to say, but in this stifling pit of nothingness, he began to crave the slightest noise. He wished he could go back to a time when this dark was comforting, to be filled with nothing but idle chatter and the grappling of their bodies. Like this, through noise, through touch, Ghirahim could only think to hurt him.

So, Ghirahim seized the bridge of Zant’s nose and cracked what cartilage he hadn't shattered back into place. He took hold of his jaw, counted to three in his head, and popped the crooked thing back in its sockets. If Zant had cried out in pain at any of this, he wouldn't have noticed. The ringing in his ears was just too loud. His handiwork now finished, he trusted the potions to do the rest.

Then, he waited. For anything, really. For the battle raging outside to dissipate. For their forces to come bursting through the castle gate cheering with glee, or for the enemy to come raid it of every worth and woman inside, and drag the two of them to the gallows, while they were at it. But mostly, he waited for any change in Zant.

Look at him. He cannot even raise a finger to hurt you. You could end this right here, right now, Ghirahim thought to himself. Yet he sat and did nothing. When his eyes met the ones that stared glossily back up at him, filled with agonized gratitude, that thought snuffed out, and its wicker would burn no longer.

Ghirahim swallowed his apprehension, inhaled sharply, and sighed. “What will you have me do?”

Zant opened his mouth to speak, but the shards of crumbled teeth fell into his throat as he uttered his first syllable. Ghirahim sat and watched as he choked and spat them out on his pillow.

“We are to wait out the right time to strike back for the throne, but today, we cannot. So we will have to fool them with one more ruse. Return to the battlefield, Ghirahim,” he wheezed, swallowing the blood from a dry throat. “Strike at whoever is closest. Be vengeful. Be fierce. You must fight like you never have before.

Zant breathed deeply. With each chug of air, another wound closed up, though their scars and deep black bruises remained. “You are to disappear with me. They must be convinced that I succumbed to my wounds.”

You should have.

“And, to their knowledge, you will take to the grave with me. Come closer,” he said. His hand searched beside his face on the pillow and retrieved a shard of tooth, long and pointy, almost complete. With a tiny crack, he then reached over, and fastened it to Ghirahim’s earring, to an empty link remaining there. “A memento, to convince them of my death.”

Ghirahim rose again in silence. A little piece of bone so small dangled from his ear, but the weight of its burden could tip him over. Zant continued to speak as if this was the simplest matter in the world. “Take our blade. My power rests within it, still, and it is all the help I can afford you.”

Listlessly, mechanically, Ghirahim rose from his seat before Zant even finished his sentence. The sword lay by his bedside, hastily thrown to the side along with Zant’s armor. He picked up that shard of himself and apologetically wiped it of its grime.

A roar reverberated from outside, echoing past the sands and through the castle walls. Zant called to his attention again with his glowing eyes aimed straight at him. “The Gerudo are innocent in all this. The least we can do is scare this vermin away from their homes. I trust you to have tricks up your sleeve, Yima Mionaida.”

Despite it all, his little nicknames stirred in his chest. Ghirahim clenched his fist harder around the grip of the Demon Scimitar, as if to smother it. His Diamond. The miserable, manipulative cretin that he was. And Ghirahim was doing all his bidding.

Just before he could turn his back to leave, he was halted one last time. “Ghirahim,” Zant started, but he knew saying his next words would only draw his ire. His face said every letter anyway. I’m sorry.

Ghirahim ran. Within a flash, he was back in the sweltering heat of the desert, bolting from the Temple Complex and kicking up sand trails in his escape. He tore past keeps, the slain corpses of their monsters, and field battles still unfolding between forces too stubborn to believe the war was won. Those who dared bar his way were dealt with swiftly, their heads rolling. He left the perfect trail like this. A pristine white lightning bolt with a sword sharper than the cruel edge of time, such a description could only fit one man. The eyes he sought snared onto him. Enemy commanders, skeptically scouring the desert and leaving not a stone unturned for a trace of Ganondorf’s finest. Now, they found him and were giving chase just like he wanted.

Blood and plate mail carpeted the vast sands racing below his feet. Rock outcroppings raced past; trampled patches of desert scrub – Safflina and a type of sagebrush. The smell of drying vegetation filling the air was the same as when Zant held sprigs from them up to his nose for inspection – and, finally, the gate to the bazaar, zipped past him. Almost, he, the false deserter, had gotten away with leading the lot of them out into the wider desert, until a familiar rumble ripped him from his concentration.

Ghirahim swerved to the side, narrowly avoiding a boulder that barreled past him. It skidded to a halt before him and unfolded, though he didn’t have to see that transformation to know what nuisance stood before him. There was, once again, Darunia, Chief of the Goron Tribes.

“Not one step further, Pebble.”

The sight of him was enough to startle even Ghirahim, though he was too jaded to find any delight in it. Darunia’s torso was heavily scarred, and his right arm, gone. In its place was a jumble of machinery, with pistons and gears whirring noisily to heave the weight of a massive hammer at the very end of the prosthetic limb. Beyond a solid steel helmet, the Goron Chief wore a wide grin, though one less eye stared back at Ghirahim than last time.

“Thought to slip by us, did you? All on your lonesome?” said the Goron Chief, brandishing his weapon. “I wasn’t looking forward to facing off against that nutcase anyhow, but a lil’ something tells me my siblings took care of that for me…”

Ghirahim looked back. The peaks of Gerudo Palace were no longer in sight. For whatever chaos he would unleash… This would have to be far enough. All he had to do was stall for time until the rest of the Hyrulean commanders caught up to him.

“You truly wish to keep me? Very well,” Ghirahim replied, holding the Demon Scimitar up to the sun. Sand powdered his bodysuit from top to bottom, crusting gray and gold in every crease. But their blade remained immaculate. Its silvery edge still shone into his pupils, like teeth flashing in a hungry grin. “Make this worth my while.”

Darunia’s hammer pounded into the ground fiercer than ever. The springs on his arm, hefty as it might have been, gave him untold speed and force with each swing. Ghirahim couldn’t stop the speed of that hammer anymore – where there were once bulging veins now sat machinery, forged from a steel he dared not chip the Demon Scimitar on. So, he had to settle for the rest of this massive creature. They clashed like this for what felt like hours, neither showing any signs of tiring. The resounding clanks of the warhammer striking upon resonant steel had surely deafened them both, and everyone daring to come near them. It was thoroughly inelegant. Ghirahim hissed, roared, lunged at him with wild swings wielding a sword leagues to big for his frame. Such wild desperation hampered him as much as it worked in his favor. A grief-stricken foe was always quickly underestimated. Even with his new accessories, Darunia would not leave this battlefield unscathed. A blade made from the heart would know how to find another without effort. As he riddled the Goron’s bulging ribcage with scars, a foreboding chime in his core once again alerted him of his pursuers. They were getting closer. He could feel it.

Then, for a second, he could feel nothing at all. A split second of distraction cost him dearly, when it allowed for Darunia to come within arm’s reach and drive his hammer straight into him. The flat of the giant hammer drove into the side of his head with such a deafening impact he thought his head might snap clean off. Instead, he remained intact, launched across the bazaar to tumble through ruined market stands and trampled carpets. When he came to a halt, all he could see was dust, the approaching Darunia not more than a shadow in the clouds of sand. Ghirahim stood up, a hand to his wounded cheek to find it just that – wounded. Through his false skin, he could feel chips taken out his face, like little razor-sharp dimples on his cheek.

The rest of them were approaching now, right outside the gate. Ghirahim found the least he could do was give them a proper welcome spectacle. Concealed by the dust, he launched forward at the shape of the Goron Chief in ambush. Its wicked, curved tip aimed at the jugular. Darunia staggered away, but every twitch of movement just made the scimitar slice him deeper. With just one more stumbling step, Ghirahim got the vengeance he wanted. An arc of blood gushed from the Goron’s collarbone, splattering to accessorize Ghirahim’s wounded face. Clutching his bleeding wound, Darunia thrust his metal arm forward to push the Demon away from him and hobbled back into the dust.

Ghirahim gave chase until he remembered his task. Wind whipped through his hair and took the sands with it, revealing at last his surroundings to him. Standing in an arc around him, barricading his way to the desert, stood the mightiest of Hyrule’s army. There was nowhere left to lure them, this would have to be his final stand. He could not fight all of them at once – not Link, not Fi, not Zelda, not all of the other pompous royals gathered here. But he could make them see. The blade, the tooth dangling from his ear. Now, he would make them witness his sorrow. To their knowledge, it would be grief for a fallen friend, but in the depths of his core, he felt nothing more than disgust for obeying the word of another.

Tears gushed from his eyes. He was doing this – he was betraying his Master. Ghirahim (was he even worthy of a name?) contorted his face into a maddened grin. The carnage, the destruction, the pure, unfiltered chaos this final gambit would unleash might have pleased Him, but it would not be in His name. It was moot! He should have accepted his fate in the Arbiter’s grounds. He should have stood patiently waiting in executioner’s row, to be pierced by the very same arrow that he saved his conspirator from. If his Master willed him to shatter, to turn to dust and forgotten in the eyes of history, then that was to be his fate, and nothing more.

Instead, the Sword Spirit glared down the approaching Hyrulean commanders with the same manic grimace, and readied his spell.

“Šamu dullu-ya, Majora! Bēlu ellāmu-adāni, Lā Naparkû Umṣu! Anāku bussuru kâti bursaggû, naqrabu napištu. Banû annûm āra-šu ašītu, baqāru tidintuka!”

He danced and danced through the sand, flickering himself atop every surface he could find to evade the grasp of his assailants. Midna and Lana were the first to stiffen, to call for someone to put a stop to this, but none of the arrows sailing past could hit their mark. Every word drained more and more energy from him. This was a true summoning, a bargain driven. Within the first uttering of the Arch Demon’s name, he could feel it watching, stalking around him like a wolf with gnashing teeth, licking its lips until it found his offer sufficient.

He would have thought it an infernal illusion, ripping him to some other plane of existence, did he not notice the straw hat atop the mask and the blue sky expanding behind it. The Skull Kid floated before him upside down, looking him dead in the eye. With a single tap on the nose, it shook him out of his paralysis.

“Took you long enough. Don’t let me get bored again, Ghirahim-ili!”

It mocked, it shrieked with laughter, and it rattled its mask. Arms to the sky, it hovered squeaking and groaning with strain, and then with the same great effort, swung its clawed little hands down as if pulling a massive lever. Then, it waved cheerfully and disappeared within a blink.

Silence. Nothing at all. The commanders still around him stood waiting with caution, alarmed by the Arch Demon’s arrival, and just-as-sudden departure. Only when a rumble shook the pebbles on the bazaar grounds did they think to look up.

Not Ghirahim. He hadn’t taken his eyes off the skies for even a second. He saw it the second Majora disappeared. A small dot, a mere speck in the endless blue of the cloudless heavens, approaching rapidly. The Moon was falling down on Gerudo Desert.

Cries of panic, of retreat. Chimes of magical transportation rang around him. Hyrule’s commanders were fleeing en masse. Perhaps he would not strike his intended targets, but he didn’t care. This battle would find no spoils or prisoners. Nothing but a wasteland would be left, leaving not the slightest bone for the vultures to scavenge. Swirling clouds of condensation shrouded the Moon in its rapid descent. It was hypnotic, almost, Ghirahim thought, standing in the center of its massive shadow. He considered then what would happen if he simply stayed here. The clouds dissipated as the Moon crossed their threshold. By all means, he was insane for dawdling here, and yet he took the time.

Head cocked curiously, but eyes blank, he peered up at a giant visage that scowled back. Like it challenged him, almost. He was forged to survive any impact, surpassed only by weaponry that rivaled him in magic ability. But he’d never been hit by a meteor before. Would it shatter him? Did that matter? Oh, how tempting the thought was. He was a dead man walking either way. Where would he go if he survived such an impact? Master would break him.

Ah, his trump card was getting a little close for comfort now. He could feel the heat of its approach on his skin, its tremors shaking the ground beneath his feet. There were mere seconds between this moment and the inevitable crater the Moon would leave. He turned his stare away from the skies and turned to look around. Not a soul remained in the bazaar, but the soldiers that fled – be they friend or foe – certainly weren’t far enough to escape the blast radius. They’d be dust soon, blend in with the sands.

Playtime was over. He’d fantasized plenty. Zant was waiting for him; whether he’d find him succumbed to his wounds, or in a prime state to kill him himself, he’d have to see when he got there. Whether he’d have the guts to see him to his end…

Now, to get out of here.

64 notes · View notes

deceptive-daydreams · 1 year ago

Text

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Ten - A Chemistry Lesson

W/C: 8.2K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

And for once, you let go Of your fears and your ghosts One step, not much But it said enough

You Are In Love - T.S.

A/N: so i decided to split the chapter up, I started moving into another scene and it only felt right to give it it's own chapter as it opens up the night. i hope you guys love this chapter as much as i love this chapter <3

Masterlist

Prev | Next

“Dustin Henderson!” The younger boy shoves past both of them confidently, his hand shaking yours impressively.

“We have heard so much–” Robin begins though she’s cut off by Steve lightly smacking a hand against her stomach.

Frozen. You’re frozen in time, an influx of information and new faces rendering you a speechless idiot. Each one stares expectantly, awaiting some kind of a response, more than likely drawing their own conclusions about your silence and lack of communication. They were going to be so disappointed in your shyness should they even have the patience to wait around.

Before you can humiliate yourself, Steve saves the day as an offended Robin glares at him, rubbing her stomach rather dramatically. “Donnie.” He states, only creating further confusion. Several people stood before you and Donnie was not one of them, you were now struggling to keep up with the current interaction at the mention of her. Overstimulated. You were definitely overstimulated. You can’t even imagine the dumb face you were sporting, the silence too loud as you struggled clinging onto words. Any words in the English language at all at this point.

“Donnie has told us all about you.” Steve elaborates finally. “All good things, I promise!” He chuckles, seemingly attempting to ease your anxieties that had made themselves evident in your wide eyes and worried forehead creases.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, yeah! And she’s told us all about how you’re Eddie’s new babysitter.” Robin chimes in again, earning a pointed look from Steve.

Eddie’s reaction is lost on you, his existence temporarily vanishing as you take in the current conversation. The idea of being perceived was one thing, it was entirely another to be perceived by four strangers who had apparently already been made aware of your existence.

“What she means is that we’ve heard you’ve been a good friend.” Nancy softly smiles.

Friend.

You didn’t quite know why but the word felt insulting. Not on any account of Nancy’s, there was no malice detected in her tone though you were still intimidated by her and figured with her being the prettiest girl in the room, she must at least be on Eddie’s radar. The word ‘friend’ was starting to feel vulgar the more it played over in your head.

“Yeah, ‘friend’.” Dustin uses air quotes, a wild grin on his youthful face.

At this, Steve delivers a harsh smack to the boy’s abdomen, more aggressive than he had done to Robin seconds ago.

“Henderson.” Eddie reprimands.

His voice lures you in despite your inner protests, your gaze traveling over each unique face until it settles on his. That familiar distress showcases itself in the form of a frown; there was no telling what reaction you had expected of him but something about it makes your heart drop, your stomach feeling as if it was free falling in the worst way possible. Were you really that repulsive?

It was obvious Dustin had only been joking but the disgust on Eddie’s face only forced your tear ducts to strain, your eyes becoming glassy in seconds. It was a long shot, thinking that there could be any semblance of interest on Eddie’s part and you suppose you should be to blame for your hurt feelings. He owed you nothing and here you were mourning over something that never was, all because he had let you see a piece of the inner workings of his mind. It didn’t warrant a one way ticket into his heart.

“What!?” Dustin shrugs, unbothered.

Robin steps forward, an apologetic smile gracing her features as she addresses you. “I promise we’re not all gigantic dinguses.”

A flood of complaints spills from Dustin and Steve, Nancy only rolling her eyes at the interaction before taking the initiative in pursuing the conversation with you as the others bicker, Eddie only spectating the whole scene playing out in front of him.

“Dustin doesn’t always know when to keep quiet.” She giggles, subtly pulling you to the side, her hand gentle as it rests on your forearm. It almost repulses you, although your logic kicks in and pieces together that this woman has never done anything to elicit such a response from you. “But he always means well.”

The heat was dying down, the unsolicited jealousy now tame within the confines of your body, not totally gone but no longer raging just beneath the surface. If it were up to you you’d ball up the lingering feeling and burn it, if it were only so easy.

“Are they brothers?” You ask, recalling that night you drove him home. He only spoke of his uncle, Wayne. He did also mention Dustin but never insinuated that they were related. Based on the way they were interacting, you’d assume they were brothers in some sense of the word.

“Where’s your family?” Eddie suddenly mumbles, eyes still glued to the scenery outside.

The question is out of the blue and the last thing you would expect from him. Although he had taken somewhat of a liking to you, he’d never taken an interest in something so personal. And you offered him that same respect.

“What?” You ask, sneaking a glance at him, your hands squeezing the wheel.

His focus shifts from the window to you, his body turning inward as he leans his cheek against the headrest, waiting for your response. The way his lips pucker from his cheek squishing against the seat only makes your heart clench. His large awaiting eyes reflect the moon and you find it hard to change the subject when they appear so patient and attentive.

“Um, well, they’re back in…back home.” You answer simply.

“Where’s that?”

He looked the most inquisitive you’d seen him, body turned toward you, his attention not once wavering. Instead of the usual knit brows he often wore, his features remained softer and full of wonder. Lips parted and eyes twinkling, who were you to deny his efforts? Even if he was slightly under the influence. Worst case scenario, he doesn’t remember this conversation.

“California.”

“Oh.”

You didn’t know what kind of response you were expecting but for some reason, the one word was a bit too vague, self consciousness kicking in.

“What about yours?” You shift the spotlight over to him.

From what you can tell as you keep your focus on the road, his gaze drops while he collects his thoughts, his breathing going shaky for just a second before he regains his composure. A hum deep in his throat notifies you that he’s ready to begin speaking again.

“Uh, don’t really have one. Never really have. Or, uh, I just don’t remember them? Other than my uncle, Wayne. He’s back…” Eddie hesitates. “He’s in Indiana.”

Nancy’s gaze follows yours, locking in on the two boys catching up. “Dustin and Eddie?” Her puzzled expression already grants you your answer, though she continues. “No, no they’re not related. You’d think they are, with all the fantasy stuff they talk about and what not.”

“Fantasy stuff?”

“Dungeons and Dragons.” Her perfectly plucked brows raise. “My brother used to have me play with them, thank god Eddie stepped into the picture.” She mutters.

“Eddie did mention Dungeons and Dragons.” You nod.

“And Dustin’s little drawing.”

“And the drawing?”

Your grin along with Nancy as you simultaneously speak, a few giggles filling the air between you.

“So your brother is…Dustin?”

Amidst the calm conversation, Steve and Robin are cheering a few feet away, both of their arms now slung around Eddie. It wasn’t clear what they were celebrating and it even seemed that they were just trying to embarrass him in that true friend fashion. It was sweet, how much they cared about him, the lengths they went just to surprise him.

Nancy gracefully shakes her head, brunette curls bouncing with the movement and freckled nose scrunching playfully. “No, no. Dustin is one of my brother’s best friends. Mike is my brother, he’s back at home in–” Before she can reveal where ‘home’ was, her bright blue eyes widen. “Back in Indiana.” She corrects herself.

“I think Eddie’s mentioned Mike a few times.” You recall the conversation, how he took Mike and Dustin under his wing in highschool. “He couldn’t come?”

“He’s studying for midterms.” She shakes her head. “He really wanted to come but…you know between his girlfriend in California and college it’s just all…a lot.” Her eyes are kind, probably the kindest you’d ever come across.

“I’d love to meet him one day.” You smile, only hoping that you were reciprocating the same compassion she was radiating. “And Max, and Lucas, and Wayne…”

Nancy’s eyes seem to brighten, ears perking up at the names. “He told you about everyone?” She asks softly, her baby pink lips upturning slightly.

You nod. Another eruption of laughter and shouting forces your attention toward the rest of the group, a proud grin displayed on Dustin’s face only hinting that he had just made a joke that even had Eddie hunched over in laughter, Steve’s arm still draped over his shoulder with his head thrown back.

“That is not funny.” Robin pouts, arms crossed.

“I think it’s pretty funny.” Steve smirks.

Nancy politely excuses herself from your one-on-one conversation, joining Robin’s side. “What’s not funny?”

“When Robin swallowed an egg whole–”

“It’s not funny!” Robin continues to protest. “I almost died!”

This only makes the boys cackle more, pulling an eye roll from Nancy.

“C’mon Nance.” Dustin grins.

“Yeah, c’mon Nance.” Eddie chimes in.

Nance.

Why did it rub you the wrong way when he said it? You assessed Nancy’s body language and nothing conveyed to you that she had any interest in him, however your mind continued it’s unruly torture. Even so, Eddie had made it clear what he thought of you, that you were ‘too busy dry humping’ Jett and that even though that couldn’t be further from the truth, he would still lose respect for you.

Heat burrowed deep in your belly once again, the kind that wasn’t yet uncontrollable but should anyone add fuel to the fire would result in your own self destruction. All because Eddie had to go and cause a scene. All because he had a temper that never rested even when it appeared dormant.

“I-um, I’m gonna go get the drinks–what did–what did everyone want?” You manage to pitifully scramble the sentence together and eventually get your point across.

“Stevie!” Donnie interrupts, crushing the poor guy in a tight hug. It makes you question her disgust for physical touch.

Steve doesn’t seem to mind, a twitch of his eye only projecting a smidge of discomfort but other than that he contently hugs her back. They begin catching up, everyone completely ignoring your request for their drink orders. It’s not their fault you were so invisible, it was just your nature, you were always meant to be put on the backburner until further notice but for some reason it causes an extra deep pang in your chest this time. Especially since Eddie had completely disregarded you as he jumped into the conversation.

With the tiniest huff, you quietly step away to make yourself useful behind the bar. A pair of blue eyes follows you, considerate blue eyes that you attempt to ignore. If you looked carefully enough, you’d see that pair of ocean blue eyes making connections between yourself and a certain brown eyed man. You were in no mood to act as a detective though.

–

It was irresponsible.

Your track record so far was evidence enough.

But as you stared down the bottle of tequila sat in front of you, howls of laughter and echoes of inside jokes entering your ears even from the other side of the bar, it seemed like more and more of a good idea. Or like the only idea.

You could have one shot, just to relax the nerves, make you more approachable. No one would notice. You could come off as the friendly stranger in the background instead of the miserable mouse in the corner. It was for your benefit. Your thoughts would become less intense, your bitterness would melt away. Eddie would temporarily become the dream boat he had previously been in your eyes rather than a mouthy douchebag, your hazy mind would erase his wrong doings if only for a few hours.

You hope.

Or maybe you’d open your eyes and see what Eddie was seeing, had you really shown any interest in Jett at all? Maybe a shot would be enough to introduce you to the narrative. Maybe you should let loose and throw yourself at Jett for the fuck of it. Bad decisions were starting to sound more appealing the harder you stared at the bottle of liquid courage. Until your careful thought process was interrupted.

“We doin’ shots?”

The deep but soothing voice catches you off guard, calm brown eyes and concerned brows gaining all of your attention. They weren’t the brown eyes you secretly hoped for, even if they were the most infuriating sight you could possibly be faced with at the moment. No, they were a lighter hue, the overhead light casting golden flecks within the irises that regarded you with genuine interest, his lips pressed together tightly as he awaits your answer. In his hand he holds what looks to be a scotch on the rocks though it could also be whiskey, you were no expert quite yet.

“Uh…no. I dunno. Maybe?” You squint your eyes painfully. “Forget I said that.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell the others.” Steve takes a seat at one of the vacant stools directly across from you. “But…” He clicks his tongue. “If you are going to, count me in.” He smiles charmingly, finishing off his drink.

“I…” You’re about to take the sensible route, you’re so close to making the right decision. Then again, bad decisions were far more tempting. Especially with the help of an unaware acquaintance. “Okay.” You sigh, offering him a friendly grin.

Without further consideration, you pop the bottle cap off, pulling out two sparkling shot glasses and setting them on the counter confidently. At least you didn’t have to drink alone.

“Munson giving you a hard time?” Steve suddenly inquires. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head which you assume is why he elaborates. “I know he’s kind of intense. The first year he moved out here he was…he was so fuckin’ unhappy y’know? And I know what you’re thinkin’: Why is this guy, Steve, who I just met, going on about Munson?” He begins to ramble.

Slowly, you start to pour the foul smelling alcohol into one of the glasses as you listen intently. A few drops trickle down the side but it goes ignored as you watch Steve’s every move. He toys with the glass he’d just finished off, spinning it over and over again in circles atop the bar, a ring of condensation following.

“Don’t–fuck how do I say this?” He pushes a weft of voluminous hair back. “Don’t give up on him.” Steve practically pleads.

You stop pouring the tequila, pausing to chew on your lip and look at him in confusion, which encourages him to continue.

“Look, Donnie was talking about how–how you’ve been really good for him. And I don’t know–I just–I could sense that…you were mad at each other–you and Eddie, I mean.”

He takes your silence as a means to further explain and god, he could feel a migraine coming on just by the way he was stirring things up but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Not when Donnie had been so adamant about Eddie being in such good spirits since you showed up only to come face to face with an almost seething Eddie, and Donnie wordlessly conveying to him that something was wrong.

“The point is, I know that he’s an asshole, okay? Whatever he did, I’m sure he deserves a slap to the face. Just–don’t give up on him.”

Steve’s words sink in. You aren’t sure what has been said but it’s apparent that the tension between you and Eddie tonight was obvious among his friends. You ponder his request–to not give up on Eddie as you fill the second shot glass and slide it across the counter. If anything, Eddie had given up on you by accusing you of messing around with Jett. It was insulting and humiliating. Dehumanizing.

“I think he’s the one who gave up on me.” You admit, tossing the shot back with teary eyes.

The sting spreads down your throat, the potent smell filling your nostrils as you slam the glass down. Your eyes are glassy though you only hope Steve can gather that it's just from the alcohol and not the idea of Eddie essentially throwing whatever you had in the garbage combined with the burn of tequila.

As if caught off guard, Steve quickly throws his shot back, apparently an expert as he doesn’t flinch, only widens his eyes as he slams the glass down as you had. He exhales heavily, nodding, thinking to himself. You await more wise words, more advice that he had no business giving although you appreciate the sentiment anyway.

“What are you doing?”

The world feels distant and not because of the alcohol. Your blood runs hot, most definitely because of the alcohol. The question is asked with such outrage that it almost has you shaking. Getting caught was more embarrassing than any outcome you could’ve imagined though you didn’t even try to hide the evidence, didn’t even go as far as to take shots in the back. Did you subconsciously want Eddie to catch you?

“Nothing.” You mutter, quickly capping the bottle and setting it on its designated shelf.

“I just saw you.” Eddie grits, hands splayed out on top of the bar, his arms spread out as he attempts to keep quiet so as not to interrupt the customers scattered throughout the bar.

Eddie’s glare burns a hole into you and maybe it’s because of Steve’s sudden advice, the fact that he felt the need to stick up for Eddie even when he didn’t know the whole situation, but you refuse to give in. He holds a fire in his eyes that you hastily reject as you begin cleaning out the shot glasses. It was your goal to come off as unbothered but you fear you’re coming off more as guilty. Like a dog that had been caught chewing up the family couch.

“It was my fault.” Steve chimes in nonchalantly.

Eddie glances over, brows knit together in irritation. “Your fault?”

“Yeah, we were getting acquainted. I insisted, it was–”

“Steve had nothing to do with it.” You fess up.

Eddie’s face reveals a whole other level of rage, his eyes nearly glazing over with black. You fucked up. That much you could admit to yourself. Steve appears to be panicked, his gaze glued to the bar top, his hands gripping the edge, nails threatening to dig into the wood.

“Meet me in the back.” Eddie demands, pushing himself off of the bar.

Terrified doesn’t even begin to explain the list of feelings coursing through you. You’d never seen him as angry as he was tonight. You were drinking on the job, something that in a small town usually isn’t a big deal but with all of the tension hanging in the air, you could only assume it would add to his irritation. It would only give him more ammo against you.

Steve offers you an apologetic stare, clearly also taken back by Eddie’s irate mood. And then, he half nods as if to wish you good luck before standing and making his way back to the rest of the group. As you timidly step out from the bar and round the corner, you catch Nancy’s sapphire eyes before they disappear, your legs carrying you into the narrow hallway where the office was located. Except Eddie wasn’t in there and you could only conclude that he was outside. ‘Meet me in the back’ meant ‘meet me outside’. Which could only mean he was about to unleash hell on you if he needed to completely remove you from the building in order to reprimand you.

You don’t let yourself prepare, you need to face him without any thoughts clouding your judgment, only further shoving you into the hole you dug yourself. With a push to the metal door, you’re met with an aching cold, the kind that stings the surface of any exposed skin. Immediately your cheeks burn, a few snowflakes landing delicately among your eyelashes. You should have grabbed your jacket.

Leaning against the hay bales stacked like a Tetris game, is Eddie. A cigarette hangs from his lips while he struggles to keep the flame on his lighter alive, the wind fighting his every attempt. He grunts in annoyance, his head tilting toward the sky as if to personally ask it ‘why?’. Already, his cheeks and nose are tinted pink, borderline red. You contemplate asking if you could talk inside but you quickly bite your tongue, you didn’t want to be the one to initiate the conversation.

“What’s your problem?” He asks simply. As if he were asking for the weather forecast. It’s insulting, quite frankly.

“My problem?”

Suddenly the fear that had consumed you seconds ago dissipates, no longer plaguing you and being replaced with a wrath you’re convinced no one else on the planet could pull from you. Even worse, he refuses to look at you, keeping his stare on the cloudy evening sky.

“Are you trying to get fired? ‘Cause I should fire you right–”

“Oh yeah, go ahead. Fire me.”

He’s quiet, attempting to light his cigarette once again. This time he succeeds, the stick catching the flame as he inhales and tucks his lighter into his back pocket. You begin to question if he even cares about the cold until you see the goosebumps pricking across his arms.

“I should.” He mumbles, taking another drag.

“Great! I’m glad we’re on the same page.” You reply, sarcasm dripping from each syllable as you rub up and down your exposed arms. It didn’t help that you decided to wear a skirt and tights tonight either.

Without time to process, he takes a large step toward you, his breath hot as it fans across your face. A sense of softness flashes in his eyes before they return to the fiery nature they previously exhibited. His cigarette idles in his hand at his side, his jaw clenched and visibly tensing before he scowls.

“Same page?” He bites. “The same page.” His free hand rubs along his jaw in thought. “Okay, if we’re on the same page then explain to me why you’re doing shots with Harrington? If we’re on the same page then we must be reading completely different languages because you started this.”

You scoff, his statement on replay in your ears. Each time it plays again you find yourself even more enraged. “I did?” You’re smiling but there’s not an ounce of happiness in your features or your tone.

Eddie backs away, the heat from his breath is missed, no matter how mad you are and no matter how strongly it smelled of smoke. He paces, turning around before coming full circle and facing you again, another deep drag from his cigarette indicating that he’s stressed. Then he nods, bangs falling into his eyes as he does.

“You did. You just–you start ignoring me, start acting like I’m not even a person?” He points the cigarette at you and you’re starting to believe that in the midst of his rage, he’s completely forgotten about the cold whereas it was the only thing you could focus on. Regardless, you fight through it, even if your teeth chatter.

“And, and–hold on.” He shakes his head, curls following his movement as he rushes inside.

Great.

He left you out in the cold, literally.

You weren’t going to wait, his disrespect wasn’t going to keep prodding at you, not if you had anything to say about it. He didn’t get to storm off and leave you outside in the freezing cold, even if you did do something you weren’t proud of. He was probably going to wait and see how long you would hold out, how long you would sit in the cold before inevitably running in and looking for him, how stupid you would look–

The door squeaks open again, smacking against the wall as Eddie comes racing out, leather jacket in hand. Well, if he was allowed to grab his jacket then so were you. His cigarette hangs from his bottom lip as he begins muttering around it.

“You started treating me like I didn’t exist, I don’t know how normal people react to that but–” He adjusts the jacket, flattening out the material before draping it over your shoulders, encouraging you to put your arms in the sleeves. “I assume any normal person would be fuckin’ pissed so I guess I’m not–I’m just not understanding.” He says a bit harshly.

You don’t react, frozen as he waits for you to put your arm in the sleeve. While he’s still visibly aggravated, his eyes also communicate something else to you. The deeper you look into them, the more his pupils dilate, a nervous gulp noticeable as he awaits your reply.

“C’mon, you’re freezing.” He whispers, a large contrast to his previous tone. It’s warmer, it’s familiar, it’s like home.

“What about you?” You mumble, staring dumbly into his big brown eyes, his lashes heavy against his cheeks, unlike how they were seconds ago when he was wild-eyed and riled up. He was still riled up, that was for sure but now…now it was diluted with something else.

“Don’t worry about me, Bambi.” The term of endearment slips from his tongue effortlessly. Like it was meant to fall from his lips directly into your ears. Like it was meant for you and only for you, always.

With parted lips, you can see your breath escape into the night. You know he can hear your labored breathing and you should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in yourself to care when his gaze softens, the sturdy exterior he had built up again crumbling just as it had that one night.

“I do worry.”

It falls from your lips quicker than you can contain it. You shouldn’t be offering him such compassion, not when he was so okay with insulting you hours earlier. But pools of melted chocolate never left you any other choice but to get lost in them. He moves in closer, ever so slightly, only enough that you feel the familiar warmth of his breath on your cheek, so that you can still make out his whole face.

“Don’t.” He says breathily.

“Why?”

He only shrugs, his focus trailing down your face, reaching every inch. It makes you want to shy away but you can’t, not when he looks so sincere.

“‘M sorry.” He whispers, reaching up to brush a rogue strand of hair from your face.

Your instinct is to ask ‘for what?’, but you know better. You don’t need to play dumb, both of you are aware of his nasty words and your tendency to take things to a level they should have never gotten to. You’re both to blame. But you don’t need to pretend to not know what he’s apologizing for. There’s no pretending with him. So you can only hope that he’ll see through to the deeper meaning of your initial question.

“For what?”

For what? Would he say that he’s only sorry he hired you in the first place? Or that he’s sorry he ever met you. Would he understand your words and be in tune enough to decipher them?

“Everything.” He whispers.

It’s quiet, almost eerily but not. No, it’s too peaceful to be eerie. The first snowflakes of the season are still falling and you’re standing outside the bar with Eddie Munson, a man who was so stubborn he seemed almost impossible. Almost, but not. Never for you.

“Everything.” You repeat. And he knows he owes you more.

“Everything.” He swallows the lump in his throat that was preventing him from saying the necessary words. It goes down smoother than he expects. “Every second I was ever an asshole to you. Especially my stupid ass comment about Jett. I-I was mad and I took it out on you. I tend to do that pretty often don’t I?” He laughs humorlessly. “I don’t think less of you if you’re actually…y’know.” He gestures vaguely.

“What?” You ask, genuine confusion taking over your features.

For a moment, his eyes shift back and forth, as if to beg you not to make him say it.

“With Jett.” He mumbles, gaze now avoiding you.

“With Jett.” You repeat in disbelief. “I have done nothing to suggest we are at all together.” You scoff.

“I know.” Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, as if he’s bracing for more choice words from you. They don’t come. “I know. I just, he got in my head and–”

“Got in your head?”

“It was nothing, he got in my head and got all, I dunno protective? If that’s even the word. He just seemed jealous, okay?” Eddie explains. “I know that’s not an excuse for what I said. I’m really sorry for saying you dry hump–”

“Don’t ever use the word dry hump and Jett in a sentence where you’re referring to me again.” You laugh. This time humor floods through you. His whole demeanor relaxes, shoulders less tense. “It’s happened one too many times.” You cringe jokingly.

“Okay, that’s fair.” He smiles, that boyish grin returning to his face. The one you hadn’t seen in days, the one you missed every time, the second he directed it toward you the first time. His dimples deep, eyes shy, he still lingers close to your face, neither of you protesting the invasion of each other’s space. “Now put your arms in the sleeves.” He demands, tugging on the collar of his jacket still laying over your shoulders. “Please.” His face only inches closer to yours as he convinces you to shove your arms into his jacket.

“We’re about to go inside, I won’t need it.” You argue, crossing your arms in front of you, a hip jutting out with sass.

“Oh okay, we’re back to this then?” He smirks, finger grazing the button at the lapel of his jacket, almost scorching the skin of your neck.

That familiar spark ignites in his eyes, the fire that showcased so much unexplored emotion, so many uncharted territories within the man before you. You wanted to explore them all, you wanted to hold his hand and trek across each foreign feeling. You wanted to bathe in the sparks and light yourself on fire to speed up the process. You didn’t just want to burn for him, you wanted to burn with him. Your soul was drawn to him, you wanted to melt into him, melt into his touch, even if it was just his fingertip. You’d take what you could get. And you were really convinced that he wanted the same things solely based on the way he was looking at you with heavy eyes and rosy cheeks.

“Yeah, I’m not done addressing my grievances with you.” You joke.

At this, he lights up even more, his entire face exhibiting pure fondness. His lips are so perfectly pink, a little chapped, but the sweetest pink you’d ever seen. They were pillowy and plush and as he licked them you blinked, falling out of your trance. Then, his hands travel down the zipper of his jacket, only touching the worn material and not at all forcing his touch upon you though he longs to feel your warmth.

Instead, he pulls you forward by gripping each side of the jacket, leaving you no choice but to come flush with his chest. You welcome the heat, the sudden warmth that engulfs you like a cozy blanket calms your chattering teeth.

“Yeah?” He whispers, nose nearly bumping against yours. You wish it would.

“Yeah.”

Your lashes just barely flutter against his cheek, only teasing him of what he actually desires, and you don’t even know it. He’s glancing between your eyes and your lips and your internal reaction is to scream at him to just do it. But is that even what he’s hinting at doing? Maybe there was something on your face. You weren’t going to assume his intentions and make yourself out to be a fool.

He hums in response, his hands still tightly clutching the jacket, the damn jacket that you were now wishing he never put on you just so you could feel his skin, the heat of his hands against your arms. The ache was becoming too apparent in your chest, you needed him and there was no way to express it. You couldn’t.

He smells of tobacco and a hint of pine. Even a tiny bit of spice from some kind of cologne you’d grown used to smelling on him. There’s a waft of beer falling from his breath as well, not too obvious, but obvious enough that you can gather that he had at least had a beer before work or during his break.

“Do me a favor?” He asks. And in that moment, you would do anything.

“Mm?”

A quick finger pokes your nose playfully. “No more tequila.”

You can only laugh along with him, almost burying your head in his chest but refraining as you enter your body again. This was not a daydream and he was not someone to call yours. Fooling yourself was only going to get you hurt.

“I’m serious, it fucking stinks.” He scrunches up his face in mock disgust, plugging his nose, you giggling along with his antics.

With that, he pulls away, leaving you feeling frigid, already missing his presence even if he was still right in front of you. Opening the door, he gestures for you to go ahead of him. The atmosphere had been flipped upside down, all hostility left outside in the cold to be swept away in a snowstorm.

–

“And then Eddie fucking jumps off his roof!”

The bar fills with laughter, unfiltered, stomach grabbing laughter of five friends and yourself. The regular customers had long gone and paid their tabs, leaving the bar empty and the possibilities endless as everyone shared treasured stories over beers and drinks. Steve appears to be pleased with himself as the laughter carries on for over a minute. The image of Eddie drunk and jumping off of his roof as a means to prove he can ‘fly’ only to face plant into the ground and be driven to the ER was somehow the best entertainment you’d been faced with in a while.

It was mentioned that he didn’t get injured too badly and only required a few stitches above his eyebrow where you could now seek out a scar and remember this night. The night Eddie’s friends accepted you into their circle. Even if only for the night.

“Well what about when you got a lampshade stuck on your head.” Eddie points at Steve with his beer bottle.

Steve only offers a disapproving expression as the giggles erupt once again. Robin sits to your right while Nancy sits to your left. The pair had immediately taken a liking to you and moved chairs just so you could sit between them. It felt nice, you felt welcome. You had no worries and nowhere to be. And for once that made you feel alive rather than anxious.

“Okay, but can we talk about you babysitting Eddie on Halloween?” Nancy attempts to hold in her laughter. She had said it quietly but not quietly enough as Eddie deadpans her.

Robin lets out a shriek of laughter, clearly intoxicated. You can only grin at everyone’s reaction. Steve and Dustin had gotten into some kind of a ridiculous argument and throughout the night, you noticed it was a regular occurance. They paid no mind to embarrassing Eddie further but Nancy had no issue with it even if she wasn’t outright talking to the whole group in the first place and only you and Robin.

“What, Munson? You got plastered and she had to save the day.” Nancy giggles. She had obviously been a little wine drunk, a tiny bit tipsy.

“Yes, it’s very funny.” He says monotone. “Can we find a new joke now?” He asks, rolling his eyes although you know he’s only playing around, his lips threatening to pull themselves into a smile.

“It’s okay to get white girl wasted every once in a while.” You banter.

“Oh, it is?” Eddie raises a brow. “It’s okay to puke all over me after getting white girl wasted? Off of my tequila?”

The table erupts in a series of ‘oh’s’. You could take offense. But it was so much more fun to mess with him.

“I’m not the one who got puked on at least.” You shrug, unbothered.

The table gets loud again, siding in your favor based on their volume.

“Yeah?” He asks. As if you two were suddenly the only people in the bar. As if his friends had disappeared. As if you were back outside behind the bar just a few hours ago.

“Yeah.” You answer, a certain softness in your tone that only he could understand.

Nancy’s gaze flits in between you, mischief crossing her features for a brief second, you swear you see it. But nothing comes of it as she turns her attention to the argument that Dustin and Steve had started up again. Robin chimes in every now and then, hiccuping dramatically. You and Eddie, though a little buzzed, can’t stop staring at each other from across the table. His gaze is heavy and yearning but for what you’re not sure.

His bottom lip continues to get tugged in between his teeth, abusing the already chapped skin as he unknowingly communicates his nervousness. The only thing you’re sure of is that he won’t tear his eyes away from you. Not for Steve’s request to aid in the argument, not for Dustin’s screeching voice demanding he take his side, and not for Jett who was making it known that he was leaving for the night. Eddie only mutters in response, something along the lines of ‘see you tomorrow’. Steve and Dustin are too caught up to even pay any mind to Eddie’s ignorance to their debate. Robin is in her own world, curling her legs up to her chest in her chair as she becomes fascinated with the wood grain in the table while Nancy pretends to be preoccupied with swirling the wine in her glass and acts as if she’s listening to Dustin’s reasoning, nodding every now and then. But you notice the way her diamond eyes take in the scene before her. And now you’re sure that she has no interest in Eddie nor has she ever shown it.

But she does have an interest in whatever was happening between you and Eddie. She was studying the chemistry.

–

It was 4:00 AM, the sun would be emerging just on the Horizon within hours. An exhausted Steve lays his head on the table over his folded arms. Drool threatens to fall from the corner of his lip onto his sleeve, his mouth hanging open as he sleeps almost like a newborn. Every other breath a deep snore rumbles through him.

“This isn’t even the weirdest place he’s fallen asleep.” Dustin snaps a polaroid, the flash doing little to make Steve stir in his slumber, his eyelids only twitching as he navigates his dreams. “One time we found him under his bed.”

You chuckle at the sight, Steve had been completely hammered off of several beers and a few shots of vodka that Robin had convinced him to take with her. The second he wakes up, he’s in for a rude awakening, you’re sure.

“Do you take a picture every time?” You ask as Dustin hands off the developing picture to you, only to continue getting just the shot he wanted as he crouched down to get a better view of Steve’s face.

“Of course.” He laughs, stating it like there was no other option.

“Steve’s reputation with drinking isn’t necessarily…the best?” Nancy speaks, setting a fresh glass of water on the table in front of him.

You’d learned throughout the night that Steve and Nancy dated in highschool and although it was a nasty breakup, they remained friends and it never was weird after that. They respected each other as they did their other friends and it showed.

“I mean…I don’t think it’s that bad. He’s just sleeping. I’ve dozed off while drunk a few times.” You defend.

“Yeah but have you dozed off in places people couldn’t even find you until we tore the house apart?” Dustin counters with raised eyebrows. “He also used to reign under the title ‘King Steve’ if that tells you anything.”

Showing your hands in surrender, you begin collecting the remaining glasses from the table. Several dozen shot glasses that had provided a good night but would surely bring on a rough morning for those that had participated. You’d taken two shots throughout the night and had half of Robin’s Dirty Shirley that she couldn’t seem to stomach. And she wouldn’t quit until it was gone so you humbly volunteered seeing as she was already almost obliterated, stumbling around anytime she got up and slurring every word.

Robin was now talking Eddie’s ear off as she sat at the bar, narrating every piece of her life that he’d missed since she visited and last updated him. You could vaguely make out her explanation for still not getting her driver’s license, stating that Steve was more than okay with being her chauffeur for the foreseeable future. Then she insisted that should she get her license, she’d be an even worse driver than Eddie used to be so it’d be in everyone’s best interest to keep her off the roads.

Eddie hums along to the conversation, letting Robin steer the topic as he leisurely polishes the glasses he hadn’t gotten to earlier, his friends occupying his full attention a majority of the night. An impressive pile of glasses and cups are building up on your tray, Nancy assisting in collecting what she could as she follows you toward the bar.

“Nance! Tell him!” Robin whines. “Tell him how I’m a danger to the roads of suburbia!”

“You are most definitely a danger.” Nancy smiles softly, moving Robin’s bangs out of her eyes with her free hand before delivering the glasses she’d collected onto the counter.

“See!”

“No need to convince me, Buckely.” Eddie throws his rag over his shoulder. “Although I’d probably have the time of my life with you behind the wheel.” He grins, scooping up the tray you were having trouble setting down. “But I’d also prefer to live a little longer so you avoid that DMV for as long as you can.”

Nancy nods in agreement, taking a seat on the stool next to Robin. As you rush around the counter to assist in washing the remaining glasses, large brown eyes follow you, as if they missed you. Like they’d never been happier to see you. You still shy away from them, only because you’re not sure how long you can last until you melt, until your knees collapse beneath you and you’re a puddle on the floor.

“So what’s our game plan this time for getting Steve to the car?” Nancy asks.

“Leave ‘em here.” Robin slouches in her seat.

“Rob–”

“I second that.” Eddie chuckles.

“You guys are awful!” Nancy proclaims.

You can only giggle to yourself, bubbles coating your hands as warm water leaks down to your elbows as you scrub each glass. A sudden hip jabs into your side, creating enough room for Eddie’s lean frame to partake in the chore.

“What’s so funny, Bambi?” He questions, quiet enough for only you to hear.

You shake your head, still tuning into Robin’s scheme to leave Steve behind. She had obviously been joking, the two constantly bickering with one another throughout the night like siblings only proving so. But she seemed to enjoy pressing Nancy’s buttons as she persisted in her idea of abandoning the poor guy.

“Nothing.” You mutter.

Your backs are facing the two girls, neither of them able to sneak a glance at Eddie’s wandering eyes that you could very clearly spot just out of your peripheral vision. His hands continued to concentrate on the task at hand though not very well as he scrubbed the same tiny shot glass for at least two minutes too long.

“Y’know, you’re not being very helpful.”

With a click of his tongue, he finally sets the overly-clean glass atop the drying rack, reaching over you in the process. It only made you aware of his comforting smell that you had basked in out in the cold earlier. You’d never imagine wishing to do dishes for the rest of eternity but here you were, hoping that an eyelash would fall onto your cheek just so you could wish on it to stay in this very moment.

“‘M not?” He smirks.

“Nope, you’re just making more work for me.”

“Oh, you tell him!” Dustin suddenly peaks over both of your shoulders, quiet as a mouse until he had made his presence known. It startles you, a gasp escaping your lips.

“Henderson, don’t sneak up on people like that.” Eddie holds a hand over his chest.

“Look alive.” He shrugs, snooping around at the shelves that would otherwise be obscured from his view on the other side of the bar.

“Nothin’ for you back here, you’re not even twenty one.” Eddie turns around, leaning against the sink and crossing his arms.

“Wha-oh don’t be like that! I only have like two more years and that’s rich coming from you of all people, Eddie.” Dustin points a finger, sticking it harshly into Eddie’s chest.

“Do as I say, not as I do.” Eddie mumbles, returning to his task, snatching up the last two glasses that remained before you could, swatting your hands away.

“What’s he talking about?” You dare to ask.

Dustin brings an arm over your shoulder, the other over Eddie’s, a huge grin plastered on his face as if he’d been waiting for you to ask the question. Eddie only offers him a side eye, nothing malicious but a light warning.

“Eddie here used to have a big reputation.” He explains, patting him on the back. Eddie only rolls his eyes, clearly indicating that he didn’t have any real issue with Dustin revealing pieces of his past.

“Oh?” You wipe your hands on a nearby rag, turning toward Dustin, intrigued.

“Yeah, he used to be the friendly neighborhood drug dealer.”

Your face doesn’t shift, only making it more difficult to gauge your reaction. Eddie starts to fear that this was going to be your wakeup call. Your revelation as to who he really was. He knows Dustin meant know harm in it and to be fair, the kid had probably snuck a few beers away from Steve. There was no ill intent, only playful banter although Eddie hadn’t anticipated how you might have felt about his previous endeavors until after Dustin spoke those words.

“Dustin!” Robin calls for his attention, chewing on a cocktail straw.

Without a second thought, the boy turns his attention toward the two girls sitting at the bar, making his way around to take a seat next to Robin only to assist her in some kind of party trick she had been trying to work out with a napkin.

“How’s it go?” She mutters around the straw.

Eddie stares at the bubbles in the sink like they’re the only thing in the room, his eyes following each one drifting toward the drain and idling at the bottom of the basin as the remaining water drains. Sparkly little bubbles created reflections in his eyes that could resemble stars. And he waits.

He waits for your reaction, waits for you to detach yourself from him because god, he didn’t know what was happening between you two since stepping back inside the bar all those hours ago but he didn’t want it to end just because his past put you off. It was inevitable that the single good thing happening to him would come to an end. That this night would end.

He doesn’t expect you to shove your hip into his just as he had done to you earlier, twirling a rag in between your fingers, offering him a smirk.

“Big reputation, huh?” You playfully raise your eyebrows up and down.

Relief washes over him. It doesn’t have to end. This night isn’t over, maybe he can have whatever this is for a few more minutes, an hour if he’s lucky. He’d delay going home if it meant you’d keep toying with him, teasing him over silly little things that his friends had told you about. He didn’t mind, not when your face would light up at every tiny ‘secret’ you were let in on. Eddie knew very well that his friends had been enlightening you with small details about his life back in Hawkins, about every time they’d visited Knife’s Edge, all the big moments and embarrassing drunk shenanigans. He didn’t mind. Because it meant that they’d already accepted you as one of their own.

“Shut up.” He gently nudges your shoulder with his.

~end~

Masterlist

Prev | Next

tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645 @emxxblog @eddiesxangel @angietherose @lottie-90 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @pullingattheroots @avalon-wolf @vintagehellfire @cryingglightningg @foreveranexpatsposts @winchester-angel @mmunson86 @witchwolflea @kurdtbean @micheledawn1975 @tlclick73 @erinekc @hazydespair @whenshelanded @corrodedcoffincumslut @ms1oftheboys @lma1986 @uglypastels @aysheashea

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson series #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson au #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #stranger things au #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n

167 notes · View notes

autumnshighlady · 2 months ago

Text

I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 30)

NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER

summary: it's three months since you married Nesta and Eris, and it's time for the Autumn Court to change. And the final piece of your plan begins to unfold

warnings: sexism, brief mention of SA

word count: 7.9k

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

a/n: we're coming to the end of this fic, with likely only 2 more chapters left including an epilogue. there will be bonus chapters in the future, but things are beginning to wrap up. i thank you all for your support in this wild journey and hope you like where this ending is headed

part 1 // part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12 / part 13 / part 14 / part 15 / part 16 / part 17 / part 18 / part 19 / part 20 / part 21 / part 22 / part 23 / part 24 / part 25 / part 26 /

read on ao3

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

THREE MONTHS LATER

You had lost count of how many meetings you had partaken in this month. Not a day went by where some lord or another requested an audience. Luckily, Eris had renovated his father’s old meeting room, knocking down some walls and allowing more light to get into the previous damp, stuffy area. A sweet, chilly breeze cooled the skin on your face, a welcome contrast to the thick green gown you wore. Beside you, Eris wore robes of a similar colour, as did Nesta. The three of you sat at the head of the table, elegant goblets of wine in front of you as the Master of Laws continued his report.

“There have been reports from Crepusculum claiming that Lords Greaves and Bellsbury are leading an underground system of selling females as brides or…. other things… to a select group of nobles.” The Master of Laws said, flipping his parchment to the other side and squinting his wrinkled eyes. “The main buyers are of the families of Danvers, Alden, and Crofton.”

Eris curled his fists angrily beside you. “Ah yes, more of my father’s loyalists. It is unsurprising they wish to continue the Old Ways in secret. And treasonous. How many females have been taken and sold, Master Gallien?”

You sighed. Predictably, many of the Autumn Court resisted the changes implemented. Crepusculum, a rich town North of the capital, was home to many noble Houses who spearheaded resistance to these changes. Within a week of ruling, you, Eris, and Nesta had declared several new laws. These laws forbid the selling of females for marriage, as well as cracked down on harsher punishments for any abuse, rape, or other hateful crimes. Much to the anger of the nobles, your new laws also made room for females having greater claims to inheritance, as well as equal opportunities. Eris had warned you that the first few months would be bloody, with many challenging these laws and their punishment being made a spectacle. It churned your stomach to think of how many executions would happen, but deep down you knew it was necessary, for some of these males would not change.

Master Gallien muttered beneath his breath, searching through the several pieces of parchment in his hands. “It would seem… fourteen, your Grace. Fourteen females have been sold. Several from the noble houses, but apparently they have gone after a few of the lower class females as well.”

“Fourteen…” Eris mumbled. “And you can say for sure who these creatures are that have participated in this?”

The Master of Laws nodded. “Yes, Your Grace.”

“My guards will escort your officers to Crepusculum. Bring forth everyone who has participated in such a scheme. Buyers, sellers, bystanders, all of them. They know the consequences of breaking our laws, and they will all pay the price for it. Death by dragonfire, I think, is suitable for these monsters.”

“Agreed,” said the new Master of Coin, a golden haired female named Joanna who had been appointed after her father, Josef, was kicked off of the council by Nesta for his unsavoury comments. Joanna carried herself with confidence, not batting an eye when Eris had approached her for the position. She was the first female to become a Master at the High Lord’s table in the History of the Autumn Court, a sign of good change.

You glanced towards the far end of the table on your right at the cloaked female, who gave the subtlest of nods, confirming Lord Gallien’s information to be correct. The new Master of Whispers was also one of Eris’s pick – a female named Deirdre who served as Eris’s main spy for over a century. She was a short, thin female with golden brown skin and thick black hair that was always put up in intricate braids. She had piercing yellow eyes that made even the toughest of males shy away from her. She was ever silent and ever watching, only speaking when needed but never failing to miss any details.

The rest of the royal council consisted of Lord Pellham, the Master of Ships and Trade, Lord Tarwel, the Master of War, and several notable advisors, politicians, and courtiers. All had served under Beron, but had bent the knee without question to you, Nesta, and Eris. Doubt had niggled at you at the thought of keeping Beron’s staff on your council, but Eris had reassured you. Deirdre will keep a close eye on them, my love, Eris had said. They won’t make a single move without her knowing. They value their life more than their remaining loyalty to my father.

“This will not be the end of it,” you spoke up, and everyone at the table turned their head towards you. “Crepusculum has been a consistent problem for us, and will continue to be until it is dealt with.”

“Dealt with how, your Grace?” Lord Tarwel spoke up. His tone was respectful and genuine, despite having served Beron for three centuries.

“We need more than just a few officers and guards,” you continued. “That city is infested with corruption. We need to clear it out, root and stem. Make a spectacle of going in and uprooting not just Lord Graves and Bellsbury’s operation, but dragging out the scumbags who partake in it by their hair and showing the others what will happen if we get even a whiff of their involvement in such illegal activities. One of us should go with our dragon, do the executions in the city centre where everyone can see. And assembling a team to go in and rescue not just the females in the operation’s captivity, but any other wives, sisters, daughters, or mothers who feel stuck in their situation and wish for a way out.”

The council was silent for a moment, exchanging glances. You held your breath, awaiting their reactions. Under the table, Eris’s hand gently squeezed your knee.

After several moments, Lady Joanna spoke up. “You speak harshly, but truly, High Lady,” she said strongly. “There are many clinging to the Old Ways who will be using that city as the centre of their web. Simply getting rid of Lord Graves and Bellsbury and their business partners is a short term solution, but you are correct that the problem will persist if we don’t take more drastic actions.”

One of the advisors, an aged man with a long grey beard coughed, voice trembling as he spoke up. “I understand your point, Lady Joanna, as I do yours, Your Grace. But some of those noble houses have been influential for centuries. They have been loyal to the crown for generations–”

“Not so loyal now, it would seem.” Nesta said, her voice cold as ice.

The advisor stuttered before continuing. “The… extermination… of such long standing houses would not be ideal. Their coin is valuable, as is their support–”

“Not if it comes at the expense of terrorising and abusing others,” you cut him off sharply. “We have other ways to generate coin and support. What does it say about us if we create these laws and then do not enforce them just because someone has an important family name?”

“Besides,” Nesta added, fixing a glare at the now trembling advisor. “We are not exterminating their houses, as you so inaccurately put it. These males have wives, no? Children? Siblings? We are not annihilating the bloodline of an entire house for the crimes of a few, Lord Uwen. Only the guilty will face fire and death, not the innocent. Unless you say that the House line can only continue through the male heirs?”

“Not at all, Your Grace…” He said quietly, bowing his head and sitting back in his chair with defeat.

Nesta lifted her chin triumphantly, as if daring others to challenge her. Even after so many countless meetings, it never failed to impress you how good at politics your wife was. “Good, then it is settled. Eris and I will take Athariel and Morgoth, plus a hundred soldiers to Crepusculum and deal with the situation. (Y/N), is the second quarter of Solaris ready to receive more people?”

You nodded. ‘Yes, my love. Zôrzimril will continue to guard the town while Lady Lirilla and I receive the females you escort back. Gwyn and Emerie will help get them settled in.”

After the wedding, Gwyn and Emerie had made the decision to leave the Night Court behind and stay in Autumn. It had pained them to not get to say goodbye to some of the other Valkyries, but the instability of the Night Court was not worth the risk of going back. Plus, Rhysand knew they were close friends to you and Nesta – while you didn’t think he would hurt them, you didn’t want to risk it.

Solaris was a new town that had become a project for you, Nesta, and Eris. Built from the ruins of an old temple, the three of you had decided to make it a safe haven for females not just of the Autumn Court, but of anyone seeking refuge. You wanted them to have somewhere where they could build a life in a safe place, rather than simply being kept within the confines of a safehouse or library, cut off from the normalities of life.

So for the last two months, construction had been taking place in the ruins by the river, transforming it into a small village that would be expanded upon as it grew. You, Nesta, and Eris had done much of the labour yourselves, getting covered in sweat and filth with the workers Eris had hired – workers who had baulked at seeing their High Lord and Ladies in simple trousers ready to get their hands dirty. Lucien dropped in frequently to help wherever he could, whether it be clearing out old bushes to build the foundation for a house or helping lift wooden panels onto the roofs.

Lirilla had also taken up a big role in helping Solaris. She had hired staff to assist the refugees in the main house, providing hot meals, help with cleaning, and counselling if needed. The main house served as a stage one for the females – a communal space with the option for bunking quarters or private rooms. Everything was designed with the help of Lirilla to be as inviting as possible, promoting independence but also providing assistance when needed. The Lady of Autumn constantly bustled around, making sure everything was perfect and talking to the guests in comforting, soothing tones. The main house was being expanded upon, with more and more beds being needed as the number of females fleeing their bad situations increased. Lirilla was also in charge of the trauma team, a group of healers and therapists who acted as the first point of contact for new arrivals to ensure they were not overwhelmed. Many originated from all walks of life – daughters of nobles, former maids, bartenders, all individuals who had known suffering and wanted to help.

Over the span of a few weeks, several houses were built. Some were small individual cottages while others were bigger, shared spaces. Once a female decided she did not need the assistance of the main house, they would be able to move to their own space, thus giving them the beginning of a new life while freeing up more space for others in the main house. It was a system you and Nesta had come up with together, with the help of Gwyn and Emerie. After only two months, Solaris went from a single refugee house to a small town with spaces for females to start their own businesses, supermarkets, activity centres, and more. Females had the option to work if they so choose, but it was not a requirement to maintain their spot in the town.

This had caused much outrage amongst the court, that their tax dollars would be helping fund this project. Eris had quickly squashed the anger, fiercling arguing that it was the least the noble houses could do to compensate for years of suffering inflicted upon their daughters and wives.

“It is settled then,” Eris said, clapping his hands together. “Nesta and I will leave with Athariel and Morgoth and our soldiers tomorrow at dawn. We will interrogate and prosecute those in the business of selling females. Any who are found guilty will be burned and fed to our dragons. (Y/N) will receive them at Solaris, and we will leave behind several guards and officers to make sure we have crushed this beast at its head.”

Nesta nodded, her long hair spilling down her shoulders and glistening in the afternoon light. “We must also not forget the meeting with the High Lords at the end of the month. Ensure we have everything we need ready.”

A murmur of agreements rose from the table, making you breathe a sigh of relief. The meeting was almost over. Your palms itched to get back to Solaris and work on the new stables. As much as you loved contributing to the council discussions, having Eris and Nesta there to take some of the pressure off really helped.

But anxiety began to work its way into your brain at the thought of the next High Lords meeting. Nesta had organised it, inviting every court ruler except for the Night Court. Rumours had quickly spread regarding the turmoil that Rhysand’s court was in. Thanks to Azriel’s spies, word had spread that the High Lord had planned on essentially sacrificing the Hewn City and Illyria to Koschei. While the shadowsinger did not reside in his former court anymore, he still had loyal eyes on the inside reporting every move. Several Illyrian camps were initiating uprisings, while Kier had claimed himself King of the Hewn City in defiance of Rhysand, and refused to let the High Lord enter his mountain.

But with such unrest came great danger to the innocent, that much you knew. To tackle the issue, all of the other High Lords were coming to the Autumn Court in two weeks to finalise a plan to safely get refugees out of the Night Court. With the looming threat of the Death God, every ruler knew that the only way Prythian stood a chance was to be united. Every night you tried not to think about the sick promise Rhys had made – Nesta’s life for Feyre’s. No doubt Koschei would be angry at the broken bargain and come to claim his prize, the Night Court and the Autumn Court being his most likely targets. Helion had been travelling to all of the courts, helping strengthen their wards and weave in intricate spells designed to keep enemies out. Thesan and Tarquin had been researching ways to help their cause, while Kallias and Tamlin worked together to build shelters and strongholds designed to wait out the incoming destruction. This next meeting would be the final runthrough of everyone’s plans, and the thought of it made you shake your leg nervously.

Nesta, having noticed your jitters while Eris droned on about logistics of the plan, spoke into your mind. What’s wrong?

I can’t stop thinking about him. You replied. About Koschei, how he’s coming for you. For all of us. It looms over me like a shadow, and I hate waiting on the edge of a battle I can’t escape.

Don’t do that to yourself. We will survive this, my love. Azriel is bringing the Harp and the Mask, and the Made Swords. We are not caught off guard by this and have time to prepare, time which we have used well. When he comes, we will handle it.

I thought the worst of this would be over.

You felt something tickle your hand. Peeking down under the table, a soft silver flame curled its way around your finger. You smiled.

It is, in a way. Nesta replied. We are facing this challenge as free females, not objects that are locked up until we are of use. Besides, you’re forgetting one very important thing.

And what is that?

You aren’t useless in this, you know. You are the Goddess of Life, the Mother incarnate. You brought someone back from the dead. You’ve already beaten death once, you will do it again. And you’re just now exploring what you can actually do with your magic, who knows what you’ll discover?

You knew Nesta was right. Every day, you tried to understand the powers Estelle had bestowed upon you. It was something you didn’t think you would ever understand, not fully. To consider yourself an incarnate version of Estelle seemed wrong – after all, you felt relatively normal. But deep down, you could tell there was an ancient song engraved in your bones, waiting to make its way to the surface. It felt like your body was but a cave, one that went hundreds of miles deep. And at the top, you could hear the faint trickling of water, carried from far away on a gentle breeze. But the further you fell into the cave, the stronger it became. No longer was the water trickling, but rather thrashing and pounding against the stone with the force of a thousand tidal waves. The gentle breeze became a harsh wind, a storm breaking way with thunder echoing to the ends of the world. So much power, in one body. The thought of it scared you, made you terrified to venture down that cave to face the storm. But you knew that no matter what, your powerful mates would be there holding your hands.

*********************

Grateful for the chilly Autumn breeze, you wiped the sweat off your brow before picking up the hammer to put another nail in the board. Dust and dirt covered your thankfully brown work trousers, made of a thick material that allowed you to kneel on the stone-floor alleyway of the barn without hurting your knees. The white tunic you wore was drenched in sweat, but was blissfully loose and light against your skin. Grunting, you hammered the nail into place, giving the wooden board a shake to check the sturdiness.

Satisfied, you grabbed the goblet of chilled water that an eager servant had brought you, downing the whole thing in one gulp.

“Pace yourself,” came Nesta’s stern voice from the other side of the stall. “We have plenty of staff already working on this barn, you don’t need to do the whole thing yourself.”

“Yes, but I like helping.” You huffed, dragging another large panel of wood off the floor and hoisting it up in line with the other one.

Nesta stood up from where she was measuring and cutting rubber mats for the stalls, resting her elbows on the top of the metal gate. You glanced sheepishly at her, taking a moment to admire her messy bun and dirt-covered face. “You’ll be no use to the females coming from Crepusculum if you’ve worked yourself to death,” Nesta said. “Take a damn break.”

Sighing, you let the wooden board fall to the ground with a clatter before slumping down onto the ground, letting your legs rest and pressing your back against the newly built stall wall. A familiar redheaded servant came scampering from around the corner with a fresh jug of water, smiling and nodding her head as she poured it into your empty cup. “Your Grace,” she said politely.

“Thank you, Adelaide.” You panted, giving her a smile. The female lit up with joy, which warmed your heart. No matter how many times you addressed her by name, it drew out the same elated reaction.

“My pleasure,” She curtseyed. “You’ve done well with the construction, my Lady. Can’t say we’ve ever had a ruler who has been willing to work with us labourers.”

You smiled again reassuringly, and Nesta spoke up. “Adelaide, would you mind getting some fruit and cheese for my wife? She has neglected to eat all afternoon.”

Adelaide’s eyes widened. “Of course, Lady Nesta. Right away.” With one last nod of her head to you, the female scurried away.

You were about to protest, but your stomach growled with hunger.

“That’s what I thought.” Nesta said smugly, coming to sit beside you. “Whatever would you do without me?”

“Die a tragic, lonely death.”

You received a sharp elbow in the side for your remark, and you both chuckled. You didn’t have to add that such a fate was almost met several times. Adelaide returned with a platter of food minutes later, and you suggested she bring a similar offering to Gwyn and Emerie, who were working in the main house with Lirilla. Smoked applewood cheddar, fresh grapes and apples, creamy brie, and red pepper jelly with crackers lined the golden platter, making you salivate.

Nesta slathered a spoonful of the jelly on her cracker with a thick slab of brie before popping it in her mouth. “This is delicious,” she mumbled. “A year ago I wouldn’t have touched any of this. Feels like a lifetime ago.”

You felt the weight of her words hanging in the air. “Things were very different a year ago,” you said quietly. “It’s been a year since my village was destroyed and Lucien took me to the Night Court. Who would have thought that this was where I’d end up?”

Nesta was quiet for a minute, as if a shadow hung over her head. “If you could change anything that happened, would you?” She asked after a while.

You thought about it, the timeline of the last year almost blurry. You hadn’t even realised that it was almost precisely a year ago in May when Hybern came for your village. Your entire life, your hopes and dreams, your plans for the future - all altered forever within that one hour. “Yes and no,” you answered. “I will always wish my parents and friends were still here. That will never go away, I think. But bad things happen, and we cannot change it now. Besides, everything that has happened led me to you and Eris.”

Nesta sighed, resting her head on the smooth wood behind her. She turned to look at you, a hint of sadness swimming in her grey eyes. “And you really think we’re worth that? That every horrible thing you endured was a price worth paying?”

It broke your heart a little to see your mate’s self-doubt. While Nesta had come a long way in her healing, there was still a way to go. The emotional wounds she carried seemed to linger, picking away at her brain and trying to bring her down. You knew the feeling.

“Yes,” you replied with reassurance, grabbing her hand and gently brushing your fingers over the stacked wedding ring set between her knuckles. Nesta smiled softly, picking up a grape and holding it up to your lips. Eagerly, you took it in your mouth.

“Well, aren’t you two a sight.” A familiar quiet voice made you and Nesta jump out of your skins. Whipping your head around to the barn entrance, your gaze landed on Azriel, who was leaning against the wooden beams with his arms crossed.

“Gods, Azriel,” Nesta snapped. “How long have you been standing there?”

He shrugged, hazel eyes flickering with amusement. “I figured I’d let you two finish up your moment.”

“You’re so fucking creepy, you know that, right?” You grumbled, picking the grapes off the floor that your knee had knocked over.

“So I’ve been told,” the Illyrian responded dryly, pushing himself off the beam and standing upright. “I am sorry to interrupt, but Gwyn told me I could find you both here. You’re wanted at the main house, Eris is on his way.”

You scrambled to your feet, brushing the sawdust off of your legs and fixing your hair slightly. Your husband hadn’t mentioned anything about a visit from Azriel today, making you worry.

“Is everything okay?” Nesta asked, echoing your thoughts.

“Generally speaking, yes.” Azriel replied, his tone giving nothing away. “I have news from the Night Court, and a delivery.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you exchanged a glance with Nesta. “The Troves and the Made Weapons?”

The male simply nodded stiffly, and you knew there was more but didn’t push it. Whatever it was, Azriel would likely wait until everyone was present to discuss it. Wordlessly, he turned to leave the barn, letting you and Nesta follow him.

It was a fifteen minute walk to the main house, one that was taken in silence. Nerves churned in your gut, unsure of what was to come. As if sensing that, Nesta placed her hand on your lower back, her comforting touch bringing you a moment of peace.

When you climbed the stone steps and reached the arching green doors of the main house, Azriel paused, turning around to face you and Nesta. “There’s also someone I want you to meet,” he said, voice laced with low seriousness. “She may be cautious and afraid, so be nice. Both of you.”

You both nodded, before opening the doors and stepping into the entrance hall. The large grey pillars in the hall were carved to look like trees, vines wrapped around them to create a welcoming environment. A small fire pit in the centre warmed the room, a few females scuttling about in the background under the low light.

But in front of the fire stood Lirilla, russet hair gleaming. Next to her was a small, winged female with long black hair that was braided behind her head. Her face was thin, and her hazel eyes wide like a frightened deer. Lirilla whispered something in her ear, and the female’s shoulders relaxed a little, but there was no mistaking the nervousness emitting from her. You couldn’t help but stare at the nasty scar that ran down her wings in the same spot as Emerie’s.

“My darlings,” Lirilla spoke up with a smile in your direction, her voice like warm honey. “How are the stables coming along? Not working yourselves too hard, I hope.”

“Slow but steady,” Nesta replied politely, pausing her steps a healthy distance away. You did the same. “They should be ready within a week or so.”

“Excellent!” Lirilla cheered.

Azriel stepped forward, and the dark-haired female smiled at him gently. With pride, he held out his hand and the female took it gently, coming up to stand beside him. “This is my mother, Roslyn.” Azriel said. “Mother, meet Nesta and (Y/N) Vanserra, High Ladies of the Autumn Court. Married to Eris, unfortunately.”

“Don’t be rude,” Roslyn scolded her son with a tone only a mother could possess before turning back to you and Nesta. She curtseyed awkwardly.

“There’s no need for such formalities,” Nesta said gently. “Especially here.”

Roslyn smiled shyly, letting go of Azriel’s hand. She stepped forward, straightening her spine and looking between you and Nesta. Her gaze was like fire, those hazel eyes burning with an untold story. She took your hand in her left one, and Nesta’s in her right. “It is an honour to meet you both,” she said firmly. “Azriel has told me so much about you. You poor things, you’ve been through so much…”

Azriel coughed awkwardly, placing a scarred hand on his mother’s shoulder. “Mother, we don’t need to get into this…”

“Hush,” Roslyn scoffed at him, ignoring her son. “I just want you both to know that you’ve done so much for females all across Prythian, and I thank you for it. You’re both so strong.”

Nesta blushed with embarrassment, shrugging modestly. “Well, it’s not hard to enact and enforce new laws in Autumn with two mates and three dragons behind you.”

The Illyrian female shook her head. “Not just in Autumn, darling. Everywhere.”

You frowned in confusion. “Everywhere?”

Roslyn’s hazel eyes lit up as she nodded. “It is not just word of your law changes that have been spreading amongst the courts. Everyone is talking about the High Ladies who are working among the lesser fae building a village for refugees. Even I hear whispers of it, all the way in my remote village in the mountains. You have inspired many.”

“We will discuss the impacts of your reign in our meeting with Eris.” Azriel interrupted her gently. The shadowsinger gave you a look, one that warned you to not continue that topic with his mother. An uneasy feeling stirred in your gut - Roslyn seemed like it was good news that was going to be shared, making you wonder if Azriel was not disclosing all the details with her.

“Of course,” Roslyn said, letting go of your hands and giving you both another small smile. “I must get going, I am helping Lirilla with baking. There’s much to be done, and I look forward to getting to know you both.”

She reached up and gave Azriel a kiss on the cheek before taking Lirilla’s arm, following her down one of the corridors. Once her crippled wings disappeared out of sight, Azriel let out a breath. “She will be dying to spend more time with you once she settles in, I promise. I apologise for the rushed introduction.”

“Is she coming to live here?” Nesta asked.

Azriel nodded. “If you’ll have her, yes. I want her as far away from the Night Court as possible given everything that’s happening. She has already seen enough horrors, and if she can be protected from that here, I swear to you I will be eternally in your debt.”

“There is no debt to be had, Azriel.” Your mate said gently, her eyes softened. “Of course she can stay here.”

The shadowsinger breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, truly.”

“What exactly is happening in the Night Court?” You asked, unable to hold the question back any further.

A sombre look came over Azriel’s eyes. “We will discuss it once Eris is here. I just didn’t want it brought up with my mother around. She… she doesn’t know just how bad things are, and I’d like to keep it that way until she’s settled.”

“Of course.” You replied. “I’ve never really heard you mention your mother.”

“Few know about her, not even Rhys knows where she has been living. She’s… uneasy around males sometimes. As much as I know you love Eris, it is why I hurried her away before he got here. Please, do not take it personally.”

“We understand,” Nesta said. You nodded in solidarity. With what Azriel had told you about the Illyrians, it was understandable that whatever trauma Roslyn had would make her nervous around males. It reminded you of why you created Solaris in the first place, and made you wonder how long it would take for this village to turn into a city of its own.

The sound of footsteps distracted you from your thoughts. You and Nesta both turned to see Gwyn and Emerie skipping across the room towards you. They each wore a soft chiffon dress with a square neckline and billowy sleeves - Gwyn in white, and Emerie in light green.

“Hey guys!” Gwyn squealed happily, giving you and Nesta a big hug.

“Hey!” You exclaimed through Gwyn’s tight squeeze. “What have you two been up to all morning?”

“Arranging furniture and decorations!” Gwyn said proudly.

“Correction,” Emerie scoffed, coming up behind the priestess and giving her a glare. Sweat dripped from her brow, and her dress had sweat marks on it. “I’ve been arranging the furniture, you’ve just been bossing me around and micromanaging the tiniest details.”

You chuckled, and Gwyn snorted. “It’s not my fault you have no eye for design and I have to tell you what to do.”

Emerie rolled her eyes good naturedly, giving Gwyn a light shove before turning to Nesta and you. “Azriel said we had to come to this meeting. Is it starting soon or can I return to my backbreaking labour?”

You frowned, turning to Azriel for an explanation.

“Just trust me, you’ll see why,” was all he said.

Right as Nesta began chatting with Gwyn and Emerie about the book selection for the library, the mighty doors of the hall creaked open, and that bond in your chest sang as Eris walked in.

“Ah, I see we are all here already. Lovely.” Eris clapped his hands together. “I cancelled an important meeting for this, Azriel. Best make it worth my valuable time.”

You rolled your eyes as Eris planted a quick kiss on your cheek, then Nesta’s. Your face flushed with red, and you avoided Emerie’s mischievous smile that you knew would make you laugh.

“Trust me, it is.” Azriel said. “Is the room secure?”

“Yes, but you already knew that.” Eris said sharply, eyes narrowing. “Why, may I ask?”

Wordlessly, Azriel reached into a pocket of shadows that had formed in the air beside him. In his scarred hand emerged a bundle of objects wrapped in a dark blanket. Instantaneously, the air thickened and grew heavy, an unsettling thrum of power coming from the blanket covered objects. Walking a few steps to a nearby table, Azriel set the objects down, the shadows carefully peeling away the blanket as if the things inside were ticking bombs.

Inside of the thick blanket was a golden mask, a harp, a mighty sword, and a small dagger.

Nesta sucked in a breath, her eyes glowing slightly as a humming sound emitted from the two Dead Troves and the Made blades in front of you. It was like a song of death and eternity, one that sang to the flames in Nesta’s blood. You saw her inch towards it, lured towards the objects like a sailor following the sound of a siren.

You and everyone else on the other hand, took a step back. Every part of you screamed to get away from the objects on the table. Their presence felt like oil on your skin, like lead in your bones - a rotting sickness of power yet a tempting allure at the same time. Beside you, Gwyn had tucked herself behind Azriel, her teal eyes wide with awe. The shadowsinger had an arm extended in front of her slightly, as if ready to shield her from anything the objects might do.

“Holy shit…” Emerie muttered.

“The Troves and Made blades possessed by the Night Court, as promised.” Azriel said.

Nesta blinked, as if breaking a spell between her and the objects on the table. “Rhys really let you just take them? Didn’t try and weasel his way out of our deal?”

Azriel’s face betrayed no emotion as he spoke. “Yes, right before he told me to never come back to his court. And for all his faults, his love for Feyre is enough to make him hand the troves and blades over with no resistance.”

“How is she?” Nesta asked. You could tell her voice was trying to remain neutral, but a hint of worry laced it.

“Recovering. Eris’s healers delivered her son, Nyx, a few days ago. She is in pain and will take a while to recover, but she is alive. As promised.”

Nesta breathed a sigh of relief, closing her eyes. You wondered if at that moment, she wished she could see her sister. Despite all that had happened, you knew a part of Nesta still held love for her family deep down.

“Speaking of bargains,” Eris interrupted, as if to draw the attention away from any emotion Nesta may have towards Feyre. “Any word on how Rhys is handling getting out of his deal with Koschei? I have no intention of letting a death God waltz into my court and steal my wife away because of a stupid deal he made with that bat.”

The spymaster shook his head. “No, he has bigger problems right now. That’s why I called this meeting.” Azriel took a breath, and it was the most hesitant you had ever seen the male. After weeks of him playing both sides, it had finally come for him to pick one. Whatever he was about to say was simply the final nail in the coffin that marked his betrayal to his home court.

“There has been extreme violence and rioting within Illyria and the Hewn City,” He continued. “The Night Court is a ticking time bomb on the brink of a civil war I fear it will never recover from. Everyone knows Rhys is losing control, and many hands are grasping for power and shedding blood over it.”

“We knew this already.” You said.

“My mother mentioned that you and Nesta’s recent changes and activities have influenced the other courts. She is under the impression that they are peacefully protesting for more rights and equality after seeing another High Lord and Ladies actually doing work to hel[ them. But that is only part of the truth. Several groups of females in the Hewn City have banded together, and have begun fighting back against the males. Refusing to consummate marriages, ignoring their husbands orders, things like that. And in Illyria, several females have poisoned generals or slashed their throats while they slept, demanding that if their High Lord and Lady do not fight for them, they will make sure there is no army left for them to use in battle.”

Emerie blanched beside you, looking like she was going to be sick. You felt the same, dreading Azriel’s next words that you knew were coming.

“Such unrest has not been…. met well, shall we say. Many females have died or been beaten as a result of their disobedience. But they keep fighting.” Azriel’s face was laced with sadness as he spoke.

“There’s not nearly enough females in Illyria for their tactic to work,” Emerie blurted out with tears in her eyes. “They will be slaughtered if they keep this up.”

Azriel spoke gently this time towards Emerie. “It seems they are willing to pay that price. They’re willing to die just to shed light on their situation and force their rulers to intervene. With no females, the army will not be sustained.”

“How many?” Emerie asked sternly, her voice thick with emotion. “How many have died or suffered worse fates than death as a result of this?”

“Eighty-two in the Hewn City, a hundred and thirteen in Illyria.”

Gwyn quickly moved out from behind Azriel to wrap her arms around Emerie, who stared blankly into the floor as a tear fell down her face.

“We have to get them out,” Eris spoke up, straightening his shoulders. “Before this escalates.”

“That is why I called this meeting,” Azriel said. “We are running out of time. The females are running out of time. It won’t take long for the males to crush this rebellion, despite the fact they’re fighting on two fronts: one against the females, and one against Rhysand.”

You let out a shaky breath. Just as you had planned all those months ago, the Night Court was in shambles. Rhysand’s rule was finally being questioned, his neglect of two thirds of his citizens finally being addressed – but at what cost?

“How do we get them out without entering the Night Court?” Nesta asked, crossing her arms. “We cannot cross their border to help the females, as good as the intentions are it would be considered an act of war, one we cannot risk invoking. While we have strategies with the other High Lords regarding passage into their courts, we do not have the same for the Night Court, nor have we told them how exactly we plan on ferrying the females out of Night.”

Everyone around the table went silent, the only sound being the crackling of the fire and the hum of the mask, harp, and blades. Every so often, Nesta’s eyes flicked to it, as if trying to ignore its call.

“A whisper network…” Gwyn’s quiet voice broke the silence. She straightened her spine, resting her hands on the table before repeating herself louder. “A whisper network could be the solution. Spread word amongst the females of Illyria in the Hewn City on how to escape and where to go if they want out.”

“That is a big risk, Gwyn,” Eris said carefully. “They could easily be caught, or followed. Many may be too frightened to leave.”

“But at least they’ll have the choice.” Your friend insisted with confidence. “Yes, it is a risk. Many might not make the journey, either by choice or chance. But I see no other way to do this without breaking the law.”

Eris cocked his head, contemplating the priestesses’s words before turning to Azriel. “How many connections do you still have to your spies in the Night Court?”

“Enough,” he answered. “I think Gwyn’s idea could work. If we have a solid plan and a route organised, we have a chance. But like Eris said, there’s a possibility they will be discovered and hunted down on their escape.”

“So we create a distraction,” you said, the idea forming. “Force the armies elsewhere. Even if the armies aren’t listening to Rhys as much anymore, they would still move to defend their home. All we’d have to do would be to draw them out, leaving not many left behind to guard the females.”

Eris shifted on his feet. “They could easily know it’s a trap.”

“Not necessarily,” Nesta piped up. “The Night Court knows it is hated by the other courts, just like they know that any perception of them being weak could be seen as an opportunity for others to invade. If we stage our own army to distract them just outside the borders, it would be believable. Especially if Tamlin’s army was with us.”

The next few minutes were filled with aching silence. You could see Eris’s mind turning, contemplating every outcome of the scenario presented by you, Gwyn, and Nesta. “It could work…” Eris said slowly. “And again, many females may be too afraid to leave. But at least it would be their choice.”

“We can discuss it at the High Lord’s meeting in two weeks.” Nesta insisted.

“It needs to be sooner.” Emerie said boldly. All eyes turned towards the Illyrian female. The tears in her eyes were gone, replaced with steady determination as she continued. “The females don’t have two weeks at this rate. The longer you wait, the more will be killed.”

“We can send out letters right now, requesting the meeting in two days.” You suggested. “Meanwhile, we can plan an escape route that takes them to the Eastern cove in the Day Court, just south of the Hewn City for those in the Court of Nightmares. And to one of the coastlines by the Illyrian Steppes for the Illyrian females - we can have ships waiting there. That way we can launch a distraction on the Western coast by Velaris to get the armies as far away as possible.”

Azriel perked up a bit, as if a flicker of hope was growing in his chest. “That’s doable. The road will be tricky, and difficult to navigate. It is easy to get lost. We’d have to leave some sort of trail, which is impossible.”

Nesta huffed in frustration beside you. With every step forward of your plan to help the females, a new complication arose. Without being able to step foot past the border, finding a way to guide the females would be difficult. Part of you wished you had Estelle for guidance.

Estelle.

An idea formed in your mind, a chilling re-realisation spreading over you. You and Estelle were one in the same – you did not need to seek her guidance, for it was already within you. As was the life-magic you now possessed.

“We may not be able to walk in and lay a trail, but magic could.” You said.

Eris quirked an eyebrow. “Elaborate, my love?”

You stepped back, taking a deep breath and ignored the puzzled looks everyone gave you. For weeks, you had been practising channelling your magic, trying to understand exactly what it was. You began to think of your magic as a light, a light that could be shaped and moulded into whatever you wanted – a sword for battle, a destructive blast, or simply a dust to bring life to a dying flower patch. So you summoned that familiar, warm light into your hands, and Gwyn and Emerie’s eyes widened. Within seconds, the light changed shape, morphing into a small, glowing white fox.

Eris let out a chuckle as the fox crept towards him, circling his feet before bounding down the hall, disappearing into mist before reaching the door.

“Since when could you do that shit?” Emerie asked, slack jawed.

“A few weeks now,” you replied. “I can control it pretty far, and am confident I could use my magic to create something for the females to follow.”

“Incredible.” Azriel muttered. “I could go over a detailed map with you, that way you know the exact route. Emerie, you know some of the Illyrian villages and passages quite well. You could help us out.”

Gwyn coughed, making Azriel turn towards her. You watched in amusement as she raised her chin defiantly and crossed her arms. “And what exactly can I do to help? Surely you won’t just have me sitting here on my ass. If you can get me to the priestesses, I can get them to help spread the word.”

“Absolutely not.” You, Nesta, and Azriel said at the same time.

She scoffed. “I will be helping. I don’t care if you’re my High Ladies, or my… companion. None of you get to stop me from helping see this through. I will find my way into the Library either with or without you.”

Nesta raised an eyebrow, and you knew she’d be grilling Gwyn about her slip up later. But the priestess stood firm, not backing down. Gone was the shy female who was afraid of the outside world. Gwyn would take down anyone who stood in the way of her and helping females avoid the same fate she suffered.

“Lucien can take you,” You finally said. “He’s the least likely to draw attention, and he’s been to the House before. I will get him to take you.”

Gwyn nodded. “Good.”

Azriel opened his mouth to speak, but a sharp look from the priestess shut him up.

“What are we going to do about the Troves and the weapons?” Nesta asked. “The sword and dagger I wish to keep for myself, but the harp and the mask… I have no interest in touching those things again.”

“We could ward them in the dragon cave,” Eris suggested. “Have the dragons guard them. If we need them for anything, you can summon them yourself. But only if absolutely necessary.”

Nesta nodded, her hands clenched. It was clear the mere presence of the Troves was affecting her, urging her to use them and their ancient magic. Your head was beginning to hurt from the thrum of their power. “Let’s get these blasted things away,” you said.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Eris concurred, rubbing his temples. “It is settled, then. Azriel, you will work with my love and Emerie on the escape routes for the females in the Night Court, then take Gwyn and meet with your spies. Once the route and timing is decided and confirmed with us, begin spreading the word. Nesta will send out letters to the other High Lords to move the meeting up, and I will arrange the army's movements to begin the distraction.”

This was it. The next few days would be the final step in the plan you had concocted months ago, the plan you never expected to succeed this far. After everything that had happened, this was the final hurdle you needed to jump. Just one more thing, you kept telling yourself. Just one more thing until you could finally feel at peace.

With a flick of Eris’s wrist, the Troves were gone, and everyone got to work.

taglist (comment if you want to be added): @queercontrarian @kitkat-writes-stuff @moonfawnx @sevikas-whore @weird-and-wise @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet @kingshitonly @ladyofcherries @eerievixen @readingwritingwatching @peacecoffeeandflowers @a-frog-with-a-laptop @shadowqueen25 @lana08 @highladyofillyria @rachelnicolee @ladespedidas @little-darlingo @manonblackbeakquidditchteam13 @demirunner @terorovaerangi @hauntedandhopeful @younxii @microwaveallthedemons @fanfictioniseverything @lovra974 @maddietheshoe @peaceandcrackers @emy1-99 @lostinfantasyworldsbi @issybee0611 @thoughtfulshepherdmongerkid @belledawnidk @whhyyynottt @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @littlebbb @piceous21 @sevendeadlyshins-blog @searchingford @marigold-morelli @thesapphiclibrarian @nikovasbitch @chasing-autumns-chill @the-sweet-psycho @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @red-bees @daughterofthemoons-stuff @bloodicka @blackgirlmagicforever @writeroutoftime @paleidiot @

44 notes · View notes

fleckficgirl · 23 days ago

Text

Heartthrob | Arthur Fleck x reader 💗 CHAPTER 14

Summary: Attempting to conceal her checkered past, a young dancer in Gotham (Y/N) lands a job at Ha-Ha’s and finds herself increasingly drawn to a shy, lonely clown named Arthur Fleck.

Warnings: sex, age gap, language, violence, mental illness, assault

Word Count: 3438

Chapter List: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

Wayne Manor stood on a huge, sprawling estate. Living in Gotham made it easy to forget that places like this existed in the world. The trees were greener. The streets were so clean, they almost sparkled. There were no sirens, no smell of rotting garbage, no hunched over zombies stumbling in the streets. This part of Long Island was like a little eden - a heaven on earth carved out and carefully guarded by the ultra wealthy.

“This is it,” you breathed as you and Arthur approached the gates. Fortunately, there were no angry dobermans prowling about the grounds today. Only freshly-trimmed grass and the towering mansion in the distance. You wondered if anyone was even home.

Suddenly, Arthur froze in his tracks. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

He turned to face you, shoving his hands into his pockets, throwing his eyes to the ground.

“What do you think he’ll say?”

Your heart broke for Arthur all over again. You couldn’t imagine all the emotions that must be careening through him right now.

“Thomas Wayne?” you drew in a breath. “I guess I don’t know what he’ll say. But we’re gonna get an answer out of him one way or another.”

“I just…” Arthur sighed. “I just want him to talk to me. You don’t think that’s too much to ask, is it?”

You reached out and stroked Arthur’s cheek.

“I don’t think so,” you shook your head. “After all, you said your mother’s been writing to him all this time and she hasn't gotten a response. I’m sure the Waynes have people who handle their correspondence - maybe they’ve ignored it or maybe nothing’s gotten through yet. Either way, I know I’d do the same thing if I were in your shoes.”

Arthur looked up at you. Those arresting, green eyes: filled with hope, hurt, anticipation. You said a silent prayer in that moment that whatever happened next, Arthur got the answers he needed. The answers he fucking deserved.

Arthur pulled his hands out of his pockets and clasped them over your wrist. “I’m so glad you’re here, Y/N. If I had to come all by myself, I don’t think I’d have the guts to-”

He stopped, his eyes catching hold of something in the distance.

“What is it?” You turned around. Nothing had moved or changed that you could see. It took you a minute of scanning the surroundings until, finally, you spotted him: a tiny, sad-looking little boy playing all alone on a wooden jungle gym near the front gates. He couldn’t have been more than eight or nine years old.

“I think that’s his son,” you murmured. “I heard about him a couple times in the news.”

“Bruce Wayne,” Arthur said.

“That’s right, Bruce.” You stared at the boy, mystified. There was a distinct melancholy and isolation you could feel radiating off of him, even from so far away.

“He looks so…so…” You struggled to find the words.

“Alone.”

You pursed your lips and looked back at Arthur, nodding. And then another realization dawned on you.

“Oh my God,” you blinked. “If Thomas Wayne really is your father, then that would mean…”

Arthur swallowed, nodding. “I’ve thought about that, too. I know it sounds crazy, but now that I see him…I…”

You waited.

“He reminds me so much of myself when I was a little boy.”

“Oh shit,” you exhaled, looking back at Bruce, then back at Arthur. “I mean…I suppose given what your mother’s said…what do you wanna do, Arthur?”

Arthur took a deep breath and to your surprise, a warm, gently confident smile began to spread across his face.

“I’m gonna go say ‘hi.’”

“Do you want me to come with you?” You wanted Arthur to feel completely supported. You knew that sometimes being supportive looked like coming along, and other times it looked more like hanging back and letting the other person take the lead.

“I think I should do this part myself,” he said. “But I’ll come get you if I need to.”

“I’ll be right here,” you squeezed his hand. “I love-”

Wait, what the hell were you saying? Had you completely taken leave of your senses?

“Uhm,” you cleared your throat. “I love…waiting!” you finished brightly, hoping he’d buy it. “I’ll wait as long as you need and I’ll be right here. Be strong, okay? And if they give you any trouble, call me and…I’ll beat everyone up!”

Arthur smiled, lifted your hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it, sending chills through your entire being. If he’d somehow picked up on your almost-love-confession, he didn’t show it.

Arthur already has enough on his mind right now, you chastised yourself as you watched him approach the gate. He doesn’t need you muddling it further with your irrational emotions.

You couldn’t tell Arthur you loved him now. First of all, it was way too soon.

Second of all…

Well, the second part was embarrassing. And more than a little crazy. You knew your feelings for Arthur were real, but that didn’t stop you from recognizing how intense they were after only knowing him a short time.

So why, then, did it feel like the most natural thing to say? The thing you sensed he needed to hear?

You meandered further up the drive, away from the entrance, giving Arthur his space but staying close enough so you could quickly run to his side if necessary.

It was startlingly quiet here compared to the endless cacophony of Gotham City. So quiet, it felt like if you stopped and listened carefully, you could hear the wind in the trees singing to you.

Despite the peaceful surroundings, however, bitter memories began to weave their way into your mind. You knew a good faction of your former GU classmates hailed from this part of Long Island - hell, some of their families probably even rubbed elbows with the Waynes themselves: probably got invited to their fancy Christmas and New Year’s Eve parties, toasting their continued privilege and fortune over a bottle of champagne that cost more than you made in a month.

You didn’t have anything in common with those people. So how on earth had you found yourself among them in the first place?

The answer was almost annoyingly simple: your parents had drilled the importance of getting an education into you since you were a toddler, telling you it would open doors, get you the better life you deserved…unlike the two of them who’d gotten jobs straight out of high school and lamented nonstop how much the lack of a college education had held them back from their potential.

“Potential,” you muttered to yourself under your breath. That was the word they’d always used and it still left a sour taste in your mouth.

“You have so much potential, Y/N,” they’d always say. “But you can’t let it go to waste. You have to work three times as hard as everyone else in order to realize it.”

You’d believed them - bought their promises hook, line and sinker and dutifully applied yourself like the good little girl you were. The truth was, you’d never quite fit in at Burnley High, either. Most of the kids there dropped out or phoned in the bare minimum to scoot by and pick up a diploma, but you’d been among the top five performers in your graduating class of over 400 students. You’d done the extra work, taken the hardest classes, stayed home and sacrificed any semblance of a normal teenage social life to mold yourself into the high-achieving student your family wanted you to be.

And it had paid off. At least for a brief moment in time. When the letter from Gotham University arrived saying you’d gotten in with a full scholarship, you’d cried tears of joy. Your mother had cried. Your father said he was proud of you. He never said things like that.

You remembered back to that day: the teary-eyed seventeen year old girl holding an acceptance letter in her sweaty, trembling hands like a golden badge of honor. That badge represented everything you’d worked your entire life for, everything you’d ever wanted: Validation. Recognition. Belonging.

Belonging. Yes, back then, that same girl believed she was finally being admitted through the golden gates to a place she belonged. You’d been naive enough to assume that at college you’d encounter more people like yourself, people who came from nothing but made amazing things happen through hard work and belief in themselves.

But Gotham U had been nothing like you’d expected.

Yes, the students were bright, but the vast majority were also spoiled and entitled. They seemed to take their enrollment at the school for granted, and the fact that their parents paid their tuition in full (were able to pay it in the first place) didn’t in any way accelerate their work ethic. These were kids whose parents owned country houses, summer houses and yachts. Kids who went to horseback riding camp every summer since they were six, learned how to ski when they were four, took vacations over spring break to places like Paris or Barcelona or the Hamptons.

You’d never even ridden on an airplane.

How ignorant that girl with the acceptance letter was, you mused. The dream of being a student at Gotham University had powered everything you’d worked for the first 17 years of your life…and all too late turned into a horrible nightmare.

“Potential.” What did it mean now? Of course, your parents were still holding out hope you’d eventually return to GU. But GU was just like the Waynes themselves: they wanted to portray themselves as a beacon of magnanimity and altruism, but when it came to actually stepping up and doing the right thing, their interests lay solely with themselves and their ability to maintain wealth and power. When the cards were down, a poor scholarship girl from Burnley High didn’t qualify for basic human consideration. And your biggest mistake was believing that they ever would.

After all the unpleasantness that had occurred towards the end of your first year - the school’s administration “generously” forcing you to take medical leave or be expelled - you’d started to believe you didn’t belong anywhere. You didn’t see a future for yourself anymore. And feeling this way not only made you incredibly sad, but it scared you.

But all that had started to change since meeting Arthur. Arthur, you imagined, who right now was probably feeling the same way you had on the first day of freshman orientation: Hoping, with the most optimistic part of his heart, that he just might find the love and acceptance he’d yearned for for so long.

But was life on the other side of those golden gates all that Arthur imagined it could be?

Suddenly, you felt extremely protective of him. You knew it was inappropriate to eavesdrop, but who were you kidding? Just the thought of Arthur going through something similar to your experience at that school was unthinkable. You tiptoed closer - not close enough to be spotted, but close enough to give yourself the best chance of overhearing…well, spying.

“Bruce! What are you doing?” Another man’s voice shot out accusingly over the quiet. “Get away from that man.”

Shit. Not good. Your heart started to race.

Please, you prayed, please don’t be assholes.

You realized almost immediately how useless such a plea was. These were the Waynes, after all.

“It’s okay,” you heard Arthur respond. “I’m a good guy.”

Resisting the urge to race to Arthur’s side took every inch of self control in your body. You reminded yourself that he’d wanted to do this alone. You wanted to respect that. Arthur could hold his own. He was a strong person, deep down. And dealing with rudeness was nothing he wasn’t accustomed to.

But if they were complete assholes to him, you didn’t know how much you could tolerate.

You crept even closer, still hidden behind the giant shrubs that surrounded the estate. The other voice couldn’t belong to Thomas Wayne, you reasoned. Thomas Wayne didn’t have an English accent.

“Can you tell Mr. Wayne that I need to see him?” Arthur asked.

At that moment, the wind picked up, compromising your ability to hear as clearly as before. You cursed under your breath, cupping your hand to your ear.

“...your mother was a sick woman,” you heard the other man say to Arthur in the coldest, most unfeeling tone imaginable. “She was delusional.”

Your jaw dropped. Your right hand fell from your ear and twisted reflexively into a fist.

“Don’t say that,” you growled under your breath.

Exactly who the fuck did these people think they were? Couldn’t they put themselves in another person’s shoes for just one fucking second? If the roles were reversed, wouldn’t they want the same answers? Didn’t everyone deserve that?

Deep breaths, Y/N, you told yourself. Deep breaths.

“Just go,” the man’s cruel, disdainful voice echoed up the drive. “Before you make a bigger fool of yourself.”

That did it. Fuck the deep breaths. Fuck taking the high road. And fuck this rude asshole.

The entire world blurred into raging red as you found yourself barreling like a fiery cannonball down the drive to Arthur’s side, ready to fight, to climb those gates like an acrobat and beat the living hell out of that asshole - any anyone else who wanted some, too.

How dare he talk to Arthur Fleck, your Arthur Fleck, that way?

When you rounded the corner, you were surprised and more than a little satisfied to see that Arthur had already reached through the gates and grabbed the dude by his collar, holding him in a semi-chokehold.

“Kick his ass!” you cried out. “Kick his motherfucking ass!”

The rude man’s eyes darted to you, filled with surprise, confusion, fear. And the inability to utter another word for lack of oxygen.

Good.

You pulled your right arm back and swung through the gates with all your strength, punching him square across the face while Arthur held him in place. The man’s nose started bleeding and you smiled. Your anger made you strong, increased your strength exponentially in the moments you needed it most. Though you’d never admit it to anyone, it was one of the things you actually liked about this part of yourself that you were supposed to reject, to work so hard to rid yourself of.

You liked feeling strong in a world where everyone was more than happy to step and walk all over you without a second thought. And you were tired of pretending you didn’t.

Arthur was a slight, diminutive man, but his anger made him strong, too. He had the asshole so tight by the collar, it looked like his face was turning red.

You were winding up, about to strike again when you suddenly registered the face of the sad little boy from before. Standing off to the side, he was now a very scared-looking little boy; frozen like a little Bambi fawn, eyes wide, terrified.

Terrified…of you. Of the both of you.

Those bewildered eyes were enough to stop you in your tracks. All at once, common sense and empathy rushed back into your heart like an ocean wave. As much as this surly jackass deserved a beatdown, you knew you’d never forgive yourself for permanently traumatizing a defenseless little kid.

Even if he was a Wayne.

As though he’d come to the same realization at the same exact moment, Arthur released the man just as you stopped yourself from throwing another, harder, right hook. The jerk fell backwards, clutching at his crumpled collar, and Arthur grabbed your arm. Without exchanging a word, you raced back up the drive together, running like two gazelles as fast as your feet could carry you.

The next few minutes were a continued blur. Wayne Manor receded further and further into the background as you drew closer to the train station. You’d been too afraid to turn back and see if anyone was chasing you, but by now the adrenaline was wearing off, and your legs felt like they could give out at any second.

“Arthur, wait!” you stopped, breathlessly, reaching out to grab him by the sleeve. Mustering up the courage to look back, you were relieved to see you hadn’t been followed. You’d managed to escape by the skin of your teeth.

“I think we’re in the clear,” you gasped for air.

Arthur stopped and turned to face you, panting. “Are you alright, Y/N? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” you shook your head. “I’m so sorry, Arthur. This is all my fault.”

A confused look came across his face and he took both your hands into his. “What do you mean?”

“I went crazy again. I werewolfed! I didn’t mean to, it's just…” your eyes filled with tears, realizing all too late of course, that the last thing you’d wanted in accompanying Arthur today was to do anything that would ultimately result in making it harder for him to get the answers he needed.

How could you have let this happen?

Arthur held up a hand to stop you. “I went crazy first,” he pointed out.

“Well, yeah, you grabbed the guy,” you conceded. “But I’m the one who made his nose bleed, for God’s sake! I never would’ve done it if I knew the kid was watching.” You shook your head, tears filling your eyes. “I shouldn’t have gotten involved…”

“No, Y/N,” Arthur squeezed your hands in his. “I’m glad you were there. I didn’t wanna scare the little boy, either. Seeing him brought me back to myself. I know what it’s like to be scared at that age…scared and helpless…”

Arthur’s words made the tears you’d been fighting swell over and you fell into his arms.

“It’s okay, Y/N. Shh, come here.” Arthur pulled you into a tight embrace against his chest.

“I didn’t mean to scare him,” you sobbed into his shoulder. “I’m a bad person, Arthur. I’m awful.”

“That’s not true!” he protested. “Why are you saying that?”

He stepped back and tried to look you in the eye, but you were too ashamed to face him. The mean, inner voice you’d suffered with in secret since you were a little kid had taken over and had you in its iron grip of shame:

You don’t deserve to be loved.

You’re defective.

You’re worthless.

You’re awful.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Arthur whispered into your hair. “I understand. I understand what you’re feeling. But it’s not true. Whatever you’re telling yourself right now is not true.”

You cried harder into his embrace. You might have known he’d understand. You’d found the one person in the world who felt what you felt - or at least the one person brave enough to admit to it.

“Please don’t cry, Y/N.” You could feel Arthur’s heart pounding against your ears. “You're not a bad person,” he murmured into your hair. “You’re anything but a bad person.”

“But I messed everything up. Like I always do.”

“You stopped yourself from taking things further,” Arthur pointed out. “We both did. That means something.”

“But how are you gonna find out if Thomas Wayne’s your father now?” you wailed. “How are you gonna get your answers?”

“We’ll figure something out,” Arthur reassured you. “I don’t want you worrying about that.”

Arthur brought his hands to your face, cradling it. You looked up into his shining, green eyes, tenderness emanating from them. His fingers gently stroked back your hair, wiped away your tears.

“You need to breathe, Y/N. Can you take a deep breath?”

He breathed with you. In and out. And in and out again. Finally, you felt your pulse begin to slow, the maddening blur of self-hatred and negative vitriol shift from a wild gallop to a trot. It was a small change, but enough to allow you to start feeling human again.

Arthur stepped back and a small, shy smile spread across his face.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said.

You wiped your nose, bewildered. “‘Thank you’? For what?”

“For coming here with me. For standing up for me the way you have. No one’s ever done anything like that for me before.”

“But, Arthur, I-”

“If you hadn’t been there for me, I’d be all alone right now,” he interjected. “Like I’ve been all my life. But I’m not alone anymore. Because of you.”

His shy smile shifted into a sly grin. He placed a soft kiss on your cheekbone.

“I love you, too,” he whispered, before tenderly bringing his mouth to yours.

Thank you for reading and for all the sweet, encouraging comments! I have struggled to write this as of late, but I'm committed to finishing this story and can't wait to share the rest of it with you. I hope you enjoy this latest chapter.

xx fleckficgirl

💗 Tag List (lmk if you want to be added!): @fallon779 @mama-ferret-art @cherryboss713 @lolwey @jokeringcutio @luckypurins @fruitcupsworld @skaravile @filmsandlovers @noctourneswallow

💗Master List

#arthur fleck #joker 2019 #joaquin phoenix joker #arthur fleck imagine #joker movie #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck fanfiction #joker #arthur fleck x you #arthur fleck x ofc #arthur fleck x y/n #arthur fleck fic #arthur fleck joker #arthur fleck smut #joker 2 #joker folie a deux

40 notes · View notes

ladykailitha · 5 months ago

Text

Well By Moonlight Part 15

Sorry for this being so late, I thought I set it up last night but hasn't been kind to me the last couple of days with the move.

This week we get all our old favorites back as I work through my backlog. The final chapter of Sweet Surrender will be out on Saturday.

This is another Nancy centric chapter as she tries to track down the wisp of her memories.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Nancy’s first stop was the library. Because as much as Steve’s comments galled her, she knew in his goofy, big-hearted way was right. She needed to find out about what happened fifteen years ago. Maybe even further than that. But fifteen years was a good place to start.

She drove into town. As strange as that was to think of, most of the pack had cars of some sort. Steve just preferred to travel in wolf form when he could and now she knew why.

She had met a couple of conspiracy nut jobs in her time as a reporter for their school newspaper, but there was something about this that felt bigger than it looked on the outside.

Nancy walked into the library and flashed her pack ID to the librarian. She was going to a specific part of the library, one only available to Domini, alphas, and Wayne Munson. The records of supernatural entities.

She strolled to a secure door that librarian unlocked from a button under her desk, and waited until the door swung open. It revealed a dark and winding stairway that with her enhanced vision she was able to traverse without issue.

She reached the bottom of the stair and smiled at the sight before her. Perched on a table like a gargoyle was Eddie, who was watching his uncle read. She cleared her throat.

Both men looked up at her in surprise.

“Nancy!” Eddie cried. “What brings you to the coolest place in the library?”

She raised her eyebrow at Wayne. “Is he supposed to be here?”

“Family. It’s allowed,” he smiled.

She neared the table to peer over Wayne’s shoulder. “What are you guys looking up?”

Eddie and Wayne shared a look.

“Steve told me everything,” Nancy said primly. “About Tommy, the attack on Patrick. His past. His fears about where all this is coming from.”

“Oh.” Eddie blinked at her a moment. “Wayne and I are trying to find which supe is scentless or as near to as a supe can get. Why are you here?”

Nancy thought about it for a moment and had to concede that if Steve trusted them, she had no reason to not to as well.

“I’m looking into the circumstances of Steve’s fostering and the events leading up to that,” she said, coming over to sit down across from Wayne. “There is something that I only vaguely remember about that time that sticks in my mind and I’m hoping that by going through the records I can find something that sparks that memory.”

Wayne scratched his chin. “I’m working on the angle that whatever it was that attacked Patrick was the same one that killed Steve’s parents.”

Nancy blinked at him a moment and then pulled the book over to her so she could see what they were looking at more clearly.

“I could smell it,” she murmured. “So it’s something that werewolves can scent, but harder for vampires to do the same.”

She turned the book around as Eddie and Wayne shared a glance. She went flipping through the pages.

“There are a few supernatural beings that it could be,” she continued. “We tend to forget about the ones that don’t transform in someway. We think of werewolves, sirens, gwyllgi, selkie and the like. Even vampires have a higher form that they transform into. But there are creatures like the cat sìth and djinn that don’t transform. What you see is what you get.”

“You’re thinking that whatever this beastie is, is a cryptid?” Wayne asked, watching her flip the through the pages faster than his slow, methodic research.

Nancy spun the book around. On the page there were three such creatures. The sphinx, the chimera, and the manticore.

“My bet is on one of these,” she said curtly, standing up. “Now that you know what you’re looking for, if you’ll excuse me, I have my own research to do.”

Eddie and Wayne just exchanged eye rolls before Eddie got up and pulled out books on the beasts, splitting the pile in half and handing a stack to Wayne.

Nancy pulled out this huge portfolio and it landed on the table with a horrid thud, sending up a cloud of dust.

Eddie waved the air in front of his face, not that it would make him cough or irritate his eyes since becoming a vampire, but it was annoyance nonetheless.

“Don’t they have those things on microfiche?” he asked with a glare. They were there first and she was acting like they were bothering her.

Nancy rolled her eyes. “Yes, but I want to see the originals.”

It took everything in Eddie’s power not to roll his eyes back at her and just buried his head into the research he was doing. He began jotting down things about the chimera that might fit the beast they were looking for.

Wayne had only gotten through two chapters of the sphinx when he shook his head.

“Not a sphinx,” he said gruffly. “They have far too many rules to want to ally with at cat sìth for anything short of an all out war between the fae.”

Eddie nodded, he had ruled them out based on DND rules, but didn’t want to say anything in front of Miss Snooty. He handed Wayne all the books he had on the manticore, his mind on the task in front of him.

Tat, tat, tat...

His pen flicked back and forth in his fingers as read about chimeras. There were different kinds but always a serpent tail, a feline body, and a capra head. The freaky thing breathed honest to god fire.

He thought about the beast that attacked Patrick, the one that Steve had apparently fought off by himself.

Neither of the two men had any indication that they had burn marks on them. Granted it was harder to tell with Steve. The transformation healed most wounds, going either direction. From wolf to human and vice versa.

Tat, tat, tat...

He looked up to see an exchange between Nancy and Wayne. She looked murderous, but Wayne’s steely glare kept her mouth shut. His glance darted back and forth between the two of them in confusion.

“His tapping is driving me crazy,” she finally hissed.

Wayne licked his lips nice and slow and leveled her with a look that could have curdled three generations cows’ of milk.

“And we were here first,” he said coldly. “You are here on a hunch. And probably a damn good one, but if we don’t find out what is stalking the streets of Hawkins, one of the pups could be next, so you will show him the respect you would give me.”

Her jaw that had been hanging open slammed shut.

Eddie snorted and tapped again just to annoy her. Nancy glared at him.

“She doesn’t respect you is the problem, Uncle Wayne. It’s why she wouldn’t let you watch their moon night. Something that if had been allowed wouldn’t have resulted in a brand new werewolf, the ire of the coven, and rampaging beast on the loose, because you would have been there to help Steve take it out.”

Wayne’s glare turned to ice. “Is that so?”

Nancy gulped. Hard. For all Wayne Munson’s down to earth looks and speech she had forgotten that he was a centuries old being with more experience in his left pinkie than she did in all her days on this earth.

She knew she didn’t have a real leg to stand on when she threatened Steve about either of these two vampires watching over her pack, but knew that he would go along with her because he didn’t understand pack pecking order.

But she held her chin high. “I have no reason to trust any vampire, but especially not a Bitten.”

“Do you know what happens when a vampire is turned?” Wayne asked her darkly.

“I know the technical aspects of it,” she replied haughtily. “But as I am not a vampire, I can only speak metaphorically.”

Again Eddie snorted, rolling his eyes. “You’re not bitten anything. You’ve got werewolf blood in you going back generations on both sides. Your privilege is showing, princess.”

“It’s not like werewolf biting either,” Wayne said ignoring them both. “Steve asked Patrick permission to bite him. It didn’t always used to be that way, but it’s so ingrained in werewolf society that they aren’t aware that they can turn a person into a wolf, provided that person is an alpha. But it’s a soft process. A healing one.”

Nancy frowned, chewing on her lip. “And vampire turning isn’t? I thought Steve asked Billy why he didn’t heal Patrick.”

Wayne nodded. “Because vampire turning requires blood to be exchanged. To just heal Patrick all it would have taken is for Billy to drink his blood. The venom in their saliva has healing properties so that their victims don’t go tattling to everyone and anyone they’d been bit.”

“So even if Billy had merely tried to heal Patrick and get his allegiance in exchange for his life, he still would have sprang the trap set for him?” she asked.

Eddie nodded. “Whoever is pulling the strings on this whole thing knows a lot about vampires, just not enough about Billy.”

Wayne hummed his agreement. “This person is wily and cunning, but their plans keep getting foiled by Steve, so unless you want your alpha dead, you’ll let us work in peace.”

Nancy looked down at the folio in front of her a moment before speaking. “What’s so different about a vampire turning over a werewolf one?”

Wayne turned to Eddie. “You’ve gone through it more recently than I have. You can tell her if you want, but I won’t make you.”

Eddie set his jaw. “It’s like a fire consuming you. Burning out your very blood, your very breath. It literally kills you. That’s why born vampires look down on us, because we’re not living. We will never live again. But unlike Wayne, I chose this willingly. Not because I was going to die anyway. Which is how it usually goes. They turn you and then turn you loose.”

She blanched and her eyes went wide. “Why would they do that?”

“Because, Miss Wheeler,” Wayne said fiercely, “because they got too careless and needed to make a quick getaway. Turn a person into a vampire, send the poor crazed bastard out on the populous, and watch the destruction from afar.”

“‘Cause, if the town’s folk are chasing a rampaging beast,” Eddie sneered, “then they won’t look too closely at the lord who left in the middle of the night.”

Nancy could barely breathe. “That’s awful. Why would anyone willing chose to go through all that pain and torment?”

“Because I would rather die,” Eddie said solemnly, “and going through the agonies of undeath than lose the one person in my life who gave a damn for longer than my use to them.”

She looked between them both and then nodded. She went back to her work without further comment or complaint.

Eddie waited a few more moments to make sure she wasn’t going to say anything else. Then he turned to Wayne. “It’s not a chimera, either. It’s got to be a manticore.”

Wayne looked down at his pile of books, his expression ashen.

“May god save us all.”

Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @fullpoetrybread @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookworm0690 @littlewildflowerkitten @just-a-tiny-void @potato-of-the-lord @thelittleclare

5- @goosesister @tinyplanet95 @she-collects-smut @irregular-child @y4r3luv

6- @fairytalesreality @anaibis @papergrenade @ravenfrog @blondie1006 @dreamercec

7- @thedragonsaunt @sadisticaltarts

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #werewolf steve harrington #vampire eddie munson #supernatural creatures

76 notes · View notes

heyimdove · 1 year ago

Text

Things of Note at @neil-gaiman ‘s NJPAC talk:

1. Do you people understand that he switches into accents when he reads? Do you people know he does a perfect Michael Sheen impression? did you know it’s also hot

2. He used to cold call publishers/mags to see if they’d publish his work. He’d lie when asked what other magazines he wrote for; they’d think he was more legitimate and would, therefore, be more likely to take him on themselves. “You couldn’t get away with that now” thanks to Google. Also, back then, “we had telephones and we used them,” but today’s publishers would not easily recover if you unexpectedly called them on the phone.

3. It was a personal point of pride for Neil to write for each of the magazines he’d claimed to have written for. He said “I didn’t lie. I was chronologically challenged.”

4. Neil made a deliberate effort to not be boxed in by publishers. He’d interviewed many authors who were unhappily boxed and did everything he could to avoid it, including declining big contracts from prestigious publishers (notably after American Gods). This is why he can write what he likes now. Comics writing spoiled him in this regard, as publishers mistook the medium for a genre, and therefore didn’t care what he wrote (so he wrote all the genres he wanted to in Sandman).

5. He hates Thomas Hardy thanks to being introduced to him in school. Regarding being forced to read Tess of the D’urbervilles, he said “I wouldn’t do that to a dog”. He hopes students, who might have liked him if they found him on their own, don’t encounter his work in school and hate him for it.

6. “The evil characters (you write) don’t possess you, you try to find the little bit of you in them….the little bit of you that is gloriously evil.”

7. “I touched the magic and passed it along” this was a line from Watching from the Shadows that especially moved me.

8. Terry was increasingly upset as the bidding on Good Omens increased (eventually reaching 150,000 - can’t remember if he said $ or £). For his part, when the book finally sold, Neil put on Iggy Pop’s Success and danced.

9. Anansi Boys should be out on Prime by the end of 2024!

10. Described Sandalphon as someone you want to “hit with a large oar”. (The woman next to me, who was extremely stingy with her applause, hooted like an owl at this and clapped til the last).

11. Pronounces Amazon as “Ama-zin” and Los Angeles as “Los Angelese”. This isn’t noteworthy, but I liked it enough to write it down.

12. “Being on a beach in bare feet” was the line that led Neil to realize David Tennant would be perfect for Crowley.

13. He is pictured on the ALA’s poster holding Wind in the Willows because, as a child, “it messed up my head.” He said he is “in love” with a chapter in the middle called The Piper at the Gates of Dawn where the characters meet Pan. It’s often left out of printings, which makes him sad because it is “strange, beautiful, luminous”.

14. TOATEOTL was originally planned to go to Broadway. Then, Covid. They did a “world tour” instead. Now that it’s wrapped, talks about Broadway are happening. He says all of adaptations of his work, this is his favorite.

15. “Disney’s Aladdin plays four times a day in Hell”

16. His favorite question of the night was “WHY did you think of the Other Mother?” He was tickled by the word choice of “why”

17. Asked the library in Sussex “What have you got in the way of really good horror for four year olds?” Obviously none existed so he wrote Coraline.

18. Talked about going viral for being in a falafel, seemed to marvel at the progression of the meme’s meaning.

19. “Tumblr is its own madness”

20. “Stephen King has fabulous stories about meeting fans in toilets, including being passed a book under the stall”

21. Read “The Day the Saucers Came” which I misheard initially as Sauces. Saucers is definitely better.

22. “You want to see me doing Dickens?” I laughed inappropriately at this. I was the only one.

23. I don’t want to say what pieces he read because I want you to buy tickets to his events. But it was very nice to be read to by Neil Gaiman.

It’s very worth it to go. I flew out from San Diego for this and would do it again in a heartbeat!

#neil gaiman

120 notes · View notes

anki-of-beleriand · 10 months ago

Text

Bad Liar ch. 18

Summary: Life is about lessons, and Wanda has been learning some harsh facts that had define her life and taken her to a place in which she was given a second chance. Then, all of a sudden, she meets you, and she realizes why it's easier to lie to yourself than to accpet what's right in front of her.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff/ Female!reader - America/Kate - Mentions of past Vision/Wanda - past Natasha/Reader - Some Female!Reader/Carol Danvers - Mentions of Natasha/Maria being married

Warnings: Slow burn - Enemies to friends to lovers - Mentions of abusive relationships - Toxic relationships - angst - drama - mentions of abuse - violence - mentios of abused and sexual assault - idiots in love - violence - suggestive themes - drama - angst - fluff

Author's note: The world had changed, and Wanda finally had a chance to show you and tell you how much she loves you and how much you had changed her life for the better.

Well, guys, this is the end.

I surely hope you guys like this chapter as much as I love writing it, and that in general you love the story. I wanted to give you a closure to what had happened and to how the story of both, Reader and Wanda would unfold, but I also wanted to give you a glimpse of the future so. Hope you enjoy the read! Thank you to all of you who stay to the very end, it was quite amazing to have you with me all this time.

Please rmemeber English is not my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes, hope you like this one.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Wishing upon a shooting star

Now and Forever

Time was a funny concept.

After the incident with Vision and Agatha, the world continued its slow travelled into a new year and the normality of life. But for you and your family, it became a painfully slow process in which you had to face many decisions and harsh realities. In the last couple of days, you had tried to make everything work, you made sure not only America but Wanda and the twins had the support they needed to continue on, while also dealing with the legal affairs involving Vision.

Everything had been a part of your life and how you were building up from scratch what had been put in jeopardy in a matter of hours.

Still, you and Wanda endure, and you couldn’t help but fell more in love with the woman that had been picking up her pieces while being everything you and her children needed. You massaged your neck tiredly, the house was completely alone and Wanda and the twins were still out somewhere with Natasha and Maria.

At least that was what she had said to you when you asked for her companionship to your appointment with the doctor. It had been a strange day, a very lonely day in which you had been left alone with your thoughts and emotions.

You whistled glancing around your living room before directing your attention to the stairs, America had long gone somewhere with Kate and you regretted not having agreed to her and her idea of joining you at the hospital. With a heavy sigh, and some tiredness you made your way upstairs ready to take a shower.

Of course, noting could had prepared you for what you found there.

The room was completely empty.

You stepped forward until your eyes fell upon the clothes that had been neatly organized on your bed. Right on top of your favourite trousers there was a single note with your name on it, you recognized America’s messy handwriting and you couldn’t help but smile at the words she had left written on the piece of paper.

Today is finally the day!

Wanda has been planning this for a very long time, and since I am very amazing sister, and sister-in-law, I decided to give her a hand.

I choose your favourite clothes and left everything ready for you to get dress and ready for your date with Wanda. You and her both deserve this time, and I think it would be the perfect time to just be yourself and talk about everything but what had happened lately. Please, be happy. I will take the twins to Kate’s place and you two will have the rest of the afternoon and the night for yourselves. Please, just write to me and make sure you enjoy the date.

Love, the best sister in the world (me)

Your smile only grew knowing in the last couple of days America had been completely secretive though always offering hints of how much you were going to love the surprised. Wanda had been holding her secrets just as tightly, and by the time Friday finally arrived you were really dying to know what Wanda had prepared.

“Very well, one hour before Wanda is here,” you mumbled to yourself letting your eyes wandered around to check your clothes. With a wince, you left your backpack and the jacket on a chair and went to the bathroom.

You couldn’t help but gasped at the sheer pain you felt running through your arm, leaving the sling to the side and helping yourself out of your clothes. Your reflection blinked back at you, the wound on your left arm was still red, and fresh, pulsating from time to time reminding you not only of the cold winter days, but of what had almost happened two weeks ago.

With a frown, and a shake of your head you turned around getting the bath ready.

Today was about you and Wanda and whatever it was she had prepared for you, there was no time to think anything sad or regretful. With a smile on your face, you put on some music and decided to get ready for the woman that had already captured your heart.

A deep void of anticipation settled on your lower abdomen and you could hardly wait to see Wanda again.

You glanced at your reflection with a critical eye.

America had put together the suit your dad had chosen for your first official meeting in the company. Your lips curled lightly, it had been a while since you last used those Chino pants, or that blazer, but it was your favourite one because of how it made you look. How it made you feel. You smiled fixing your left arm to rest comfortably on your midsection, the blazer and pants tailored fit complementing your body form with the dark colours you favoured so much.

You found your eyes in your reflection, your body tingling with anticipation and a void expanding on your abdomen. Your heart shrank with emotion, when you recalled Wanda's eyes on you, her smile and the sweet timbre of her voice. If you were to be honest you didn't know when you felt for her, when you lowered your guard and allowed this woman and her children to take home in your heart. You just knew that one day, her smile took your breath away and her eyes on you made your heart fluttered with want.

The mobile on your bed vibrated several times, you furrowed your brows grabbing the phone while reading the message. You smirked, you turned around and went directly to the first floor making sure you had your wallet and keys on you. The moment you opened the door your throat went dry,

She stood by your door wearing a single, dark blue dress pressed around her horse but loose around the waist. There was a black coat on her, with her hair straightened up and light make-up glistening on her face. She smiled shyly at you, her eyes taking in your frame before they settled in your eyes, her cheeks wore a dust of red you were familiar with.

“Hey.” She greeted tentatively dipping her head while looking away for a moment.

You shook your head, blinking a couple of times before stepping forward.

“Hey.”

Wanda leaned back, her tongue playing with her lips with her hands closing tightly around the purse she had borrowed.

“You look beautiful.” You finally stuttered out, your face warming up when those green eyes fell on you once more.

Wanda put a strand of hair behind her ear, her smile softening leaning into the touch of your hand on her arm.

“You look good, too.” She replied and you were quite relieved you were not the only one incapable of speaking properly at the moment.

“Only good?” You asked teasingly, Wanda opened her eyes, shaking her head.

“You look amazing.” She finally stated, rolling her eyes when you just chuckled.

“Amazing, eh?”

“You always look good,” Wanda lifted her hand and put it on top of yours, “are you ready?”

You stepped out of your house closing the door behind you, you grabbed her hand placing a kiss on her knuckles with a single winked that made Wanda falter for a moment.

“I'm all ready for you, Princess. I'm also very excited to know where you are taking me, and what you have planned for today.”

You couldn't hide the excitement in your voice, you bounced on your feet while Wanda merely shook her head pointing to the car.

“It's still a surprise and as such, you are going to be asked to wear a blindfold.”

You cocked a brow at her, your lips curling playfully.

“Kinky.” You chuckled when Wanda slapped you playfully on the back, she rolled her eyes but you could tell she was blushing profusely.

“Come on, we have reservations.”

Wanda started walking down the lane but stopped when your hand closed around her forearm. She turned confused, her eyes finding yours and the seriousness of your expression made her turn completely to face you.

“We cannot go like this, you know?” You shook your head, but Wanda merely creased her brows tilting her head.

Whatever question she had, or whatever she was going to say was soon cut by your lips finding hers in a slow, tentative kiss. Her breath caught in her throat, and you just loved the way she tilted her head placing her hands on your forearms giving into the kiss while opening her mouth with her tongue teasingly playing with yours. You smiled into the kiss, sowing down until your forehead was resting against hers. Both breathing hard, flustered with lips swollen from the kissing.

“Are you…are you happy now?” Wanda asked and her voice, while still recovering, suddenly was huskier than ever.

You nodded, placing a sweet peck on her cheek, stepping back before you couldn't contain yourself.

“Yep, now we can go.”

____________________________

The ride to your destination was a silent event.

The silence was filled with music and conversation about your doctor’s recommendations for the physical therapy and Wanda’s care of her throat. You had leaned back against the eat, with a smile playing on your lips while you gave the woman sitting beside you a trust you rarely placed in anybody else.

When the car finally stopped, your stomach was squirming deliciously and your heart was jumping with anticipation of what was going to happen. You waited until a warm hand placed itself on your leg, your body tense leaning in to follow the voice of Wanda.

“I thought very hard on this, you know?” Wanda was speaking softly, with her voice filled with memory and something you couldn’t quite name, “I’ve been going through so many changes, and when I was finally getting to know myself I met you.”

You cracked a smile leaning your head without being able to see but sensing Wanda’s eyes on you.

“That was one hell of a first good impression?”

Wanda snorted, her hand clenched tenderly around your knee.

“No, I hated you.” This time around you could tell she was not joking, but her voice merely softened. “I hated what you made me feel, I felt vulnerable but at the same time there was this horde of butterflies on my stomach and my chest was always tight and throbbing…it was infuriating. It was confusing.”

You lifted your right hand; your movements were slow and tentative waiting to see if Wanda would stop your advances but she never did so. By the time you took off the blindfold, you could see the face of the other woman looking right outside the parking lot of a big, black building. Wanda let out a breathy sigh, it came right from her chest and by the time her green eyes found yours your heart skipped a beat.

“I wasn’t sure as to what I was experimenting until…” Wanda shrugged, “until I told Hope, then everything make sense.”

“Was it the first time you…” your question caught in your throat, there were many things you wanted to ask, furrowing your brows you realised there were certain details about Wanda you had yet to see, you had yet to know.

Fixing your position on the seat, this time around it was you the one facing her while the building stood like a shadow in front of you.

“Was it the first time a woman flirt with you?” You asked tentatively, Wanda nodded tilting her head until she was locking her eyes with you.

“It was the first time I actually admit to liking a woman, Y/N.” Wanda then softened her features, her hand seeking yours, “today I want to make it special, I want for you to know and to feel just how much you mean to me. I…I may be slow with words, but I don’t want you to think I am not experiencing the same emotions as you do.”

Your lips broke into a half smile, you leaned forward until your lips were on her ear. Wanda shivered her eyes fluttering close as you spoke.

“I love you.” It was a simple whisper, three words you had gotten used to tell the other woman with every single ounce of honestly you could show her.

“I know.” Wanda replied back turning her face until your lips and hers were brushing against one another, you snorted shaking your head.

“Very well, Han Solo, where are we?”

Wanda furrowed her brows scrunching up her nose the very same way the twins usually did when confused. You chuckled tucking her locks behind her ear.

“What did you call me?” She asked tentatively leaning back, you raised a single brow.

“You know? Han Solo? Star Wars? Princess Leia?”

Wanda shrugged shaking her head, her eyes twinkling in silent laughter at the face of pure mock disbelief you were wearing at the moment. It was as if you were genuinely offended by her lack of knowledge for what you were saying.

“God, as soon as this is over you and I are going home to see the movies, the original ones before I settled on letting you see the full saga.” You commented opening the door of the car.

Wanda followed your actions, but just before the both of you left the warmness of the car she decided to speak.

“Funny, I thought that after we left this place you and I could be doing something totally different once we were home. I was dying to know what else you could do with that mouth of yours.”

The young woman smirked closing the car door behind her and walking down the parking lot, her cheeks were a witness of her embarrassment but her heart fluttered happily when she heard your cursed and gasp. The door closing with a loud thud, while your footsteps hurried up behind her.

The night promise to be fun.

The main entranced had been decorated with silvery banners announcing the newest show, the doors were closed and a single sign to the left showed the place had been closed hours ago. You furrowed your brows; it was until the both of you had been standing closed to it that you realized you were in the Natural Museum and the Stark Planetarium. The place was huge and it had been built just outside the city to make it possible for the observatory to get easiest access to a clear sky. Your eyes lighted up leaning in to observed inside the glassed doors, Wanda stood by your side writing something on her phone while waiting patiently with you.

“How did you know?” You asked leaning back, Wanda shifted her weight from one feet to the other facing you with a soft smile.

“I did pay attention when you helped the twins with their homework, and I did my investigation to make sure I wouldn’t get this wrong.” Wanda stepped closer to you positioning herself on your right side so she could grab your hand in hers. “I want this date to be special.”

“Being with you is what makes this date special.” You pecked her cheek, and Wanda just shook her head.

“You’re such a sweet talker.”

“Nah, I’m just saying the truth.”

Soon the doors were opened and a single guard opened the doors, he smiled at the both of you while passing a set of keys to Wanda giving her silent instructions as to where they should go and which parts were off limits for the both of you. You observed as the young woman listened carefully, she took the map the man was giving her while also pointing to something on the tablet he was holding. Your heart skipped a beat thinking of all the things she had done, if only to get you to where you two were at the moment ready to enjoy the strangest date you had ever been to.

“Very well, we’re not allow to disturb the rest of the exhibitions so let’s see, I think it’s down here.”

“Lead the way, my lady, I am but a humble peasant at your mercy.”

Wanda chuckled grabbing your hand dragging you through the corridors, it was only the both of you and the sound of your footsteps disturbed the silent scene spreading before your eyes. You had been in that place several times through your youth and adulthood; it was one of your favourite places in the whole world and you had a sneaking suspicion this part of the date had been America’s contribution.

“No way…” you whispered this time around walking faster until it was you the one dragging Wanda behind you, your smile grew just as you turned around and found the planetarium had been fixed in such a way that right in the middle of the ground there was a single table with two chairs.

You had been there when your father was helping around on the renovations, at that time you were but eight years old, but the idea behind these new arrangements was to make camping-like scenario for some of the youngest people that would fill the place in the future. The idea was to make of this dome of the most accurate and real in the whole country.

Let’s make it feel as if they were actually outside, watching the stars above their heads on a nice, summer night.

Your face broke into a nostalgic smile as the words of your father filled your mind.

Wanda took a deep breath her hand squeezing yours tenderly, her heart beating fast just as you let go while strolling around the place. The planetarium was located on the west wing of the building, it was the biggest in the east coast and it usually held some of the most important films about astronomy and history in the whole country. The projection dome was done with neutral colours with a LED system that came along with the latest technology for audio and special effects. It had been a couple of years since you last were inside the Domo and finding yourself in the midst of such a place only brough a bubble of happiness that spread all through your senses.

Everything was already set up, and the lights that were lighting up the place were just centred on the single table with two chairs right in the middle of the room. Instead of the normal chairs that were placed around the theatre, you found yourself looking at a scene that never thought possible and you knew right there and there of all the effort that Wanda had taken that very first time to give you the perfect date.

“Do you…do you like it?” Wanda finally broke the silence approaching you with a tentative stare in her eyes, she approached the table signalling the cutlery with the table, the glasses of wine and the single bottle resting on a small side table inside a bucket filled with ice.

You turned to the woman standing beside you, it was quite incredible that even after all she had done there was still some trepidation in her features, the nervous picking of her fingers while she tried to offer explanations of how everything came to be. Of the careful planning she did to make sure everything would be ready, that everything would be there on time.

You stopped her tirade just as she was about to tell you she chose as the main course had been lasagne accompanied by a white wine.

Wanda got her words tangled in her throat, her lips trembling lightly until she lifted her arms to return your hug. For the very first time, after what happened in New Year and the process of recovery you and Wanda allowed the comfort of a single hug.

“This is amazing.” You whispered making sure she could feel everything you were experimenting at the moment.

Wanda closed her eyes, taking in the sweet aroma of your perfume and surrendering to the warm of your body. You leaned back, brushing your fingers on her hair while taking in the marks on her eyes and the tentativeness behind her stare.

“Nobody had done this before, you know?”

“Really?” Wanda asked right away, you shook your head. Wanda pursed her lips stepping back a little.

“You don’t have to say that, you know?”

You furrowed your brows seeking her eyes with yours until she couldn’t look away from you.

“I mean it, Wands. I’ve been in many dates some of them were unique in the way the presented themselves, but…well, this…” You lifted your eyes to the dome stretching your arms while twirling around, “having someone worry enough to make something I like? Not many did, and not in the way I was expecting.”

“Well, I just thought…” Wanda turned around when the gates of the theatre opened and there came a couple of waitresses bringing over the food.

You grabbed Wanda’s hand leaning in to place a single kiss on her knuckles, the young woman rolled her eyes at your gesture but took it for what it was.

“Let’s eat, and discuss this, my lady.”

“Let me help you out.” Wanda replied walking fast to the closest chair pulling it out waiting for you to sit.

You grinned taking the chair while Wanda too the one right in front of you, the two young men worked was placing the plates filled with food while also serving the wine and leaving two glasses of water as well.

Everything was perfect, the smell of the fresh lasagne filled your nostrils and it was quite evident you couldn’t shake the smile adorning your features. Wanda puffed out her chest, a sense of pride overcame her knowing she had made it possible for you to not lose your smile or relaxed posture.

“This is delicious,” you moaned while tasting the food, Wanda blushed glancing at the food while nodding in agreement. “God you bought it in Olympia, didn’t you?”

“Yep, Ajak was very kind to offer the services of the waitress and the food and actually all the things you see here.”

“You really outdo yourself with the date, Wanda.”

Wanda lifted her face taking in your frame, she smiled going back to her food.

“I really wanted to make this special for you.” Wanda grabbed her wine frowning her brows for a moment, “I never thought I could be this special with anyone, let out feel like this for someone else.”

You focused on the food, but soon you noticed the sweet melody of a familiar song playing in the speakers inside the dome. Your eyes lighted up turning to Wanda who was offering a tiny smile, she really had thought about everything.

“Very well, what’s your ideal date?” You asked all of a sudden, Wanda was taken aback for a moment blinking at the randomness of the question.

“My ideal date?”

“Yep, you just said you couldn’t imagine being this special, but you are special, Wanda. Perhaps, you were never given the chance, but I know you must have something inside your head that cold be define as the perfect one.”

Wanda chewed on her lower lip, narrowing her eyes for a moment before leaning in.

“I have always thought that a walked down a beautiful part, or forest leading to a lake is an ideal date.” She stated thoughtfully, “mom used to take Pietro and me to this beautiful forest near the city back home, she always told us the stories of her youth, and I always thought that would be the perfect place to have a date or a marriage proposal.”

You nodded pursing your lips impressed, Wanda then turned to you her eyes gleaming strangely.

“How about yours?”

You opened your eyes blinking a couple of times before leaning over, “I have to say, this one? It’s at the top five of my favourite dates ever.”

Wanda made a face of disbelief but you stopped her with a gesture of your hand, you drank some wine shaking your head.

“I mean it.” You declared strongly, “I love history, and I love everything that has to do with museums and books, if you want to win my heart, this is the perfect spot to start over. But I would say the perfect date would be on Prague’s Strahov library. Now, that would be quite the adventure.”

The conversation soon flew the same way it did before the incident, you caught Wanda giving in while leaving the stress on her shoulders ease out and her expression relaxed while the conversation grew around the topics she handled well. You never lied to her, while you had your share amount of dates usually they involved other type of activities that, why you liked them at a time, they hardly related with one of your passions.

Laughter filled the planetarium; the acoustics of the place made it easy for the sound to be enhanced. The conversation grew around different topics, and soon whatever happened in the past, whatever physical wounds the both of you carried still were forgotten.

And it was in that moment you remembered why you fell in love with Wanda.

“Thank you, this was delicious.” You glanced at the waitress smiling gently at her, the young woman flushed returning the smile until she caught the glare coming from Wanda.

“I will bring the desert.” The young woman picked up the last of the dishes and hurried out of the place.

You cocked a brow at Wanda who had not stopped following the other woman with her glare, when she returned her attention to you it was only to find your amused smile adorning your features.

“Jealous much?” You chuckled when Wanda clicked her tongue looking away.

“Should I be?”

This time around you did laugh at the absurdity of the comment, Wanda rolled her eyes sending you a withering stare before huffing and crossing her arms. You waited until the dessert had been served and another bottle of wine was brought, this time around the rest of the lights went out and there was only a single one left to create a foggy atmosphere around the centre of the room.

“I think you are adorable when jealous.” You stood up serving the wine, you knew Wanda was following you with her eyes but for now you focused your attention to the task at hand. “I still remember that time in which you saw me and Carol, there is something utterly cute about it.”

“I’m not jealous, and I don’t think being jealous counts as adorable. Or cute.”

You clicked your tongue shaking your head, the glass was soon filled with the red beverage on the bottle. You passed the glass to Wanda who received it, the glint in her eyes told you she was enjoying the changed in the topic. Or perhaps, what she was enjoying was your attention. You nodded to her mobile taking your glass in your hands.

“They give you control of the room, didn’t they?”

Wanda pursed her lips glancing at her phone while nodding.

“Mr. Stark taught me the basics, and how to make sure that everything was perfect for the show.” Wanda mumbled, she gasped when you grabbed the phone seeking the app where Wanda was trying to handle the dome.

“You took my playlist, didn’t you?” This time around there was a hint of affection tainting your voice, Wanda nodded as if it was obvious.

“I wanted this to be about you.” She mumbled well aware that your eyes were now on her.

“Let’s make this about you and me, then.” You ran your thumb around the playlist until you found the song you were looking for. Your mouth broke into a smirk, and the sudden glint of mischief that appeared in your eyes made Wanda winced.

“What are you thinking?”

You left your glass of wine, stretching your hand to Wanda who took it without thinking it twice.

“Dance with me, my love.”

Wanda looked away with a tiny smile on her lips, her cheeks burning up while she started shivering under your hold. You stepped closer waiting for the song to start, your body moulding perfectly against Wanda’s one.

“I trust you know how to dance, Wands?”

“I…I know the basics.” She replied locking her eyes with you.

“Then, let me stir you around the curves.” You winked at her, loving the sound of her laughter.

The sound of the trumpet was the first thing that came into the speakers, and soon the music formed around the voice of Elle Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong. Wanda snickered gasping when you twirled her around before pressing her body to yours, the dance started slowly with you just swinging around.

“Why that song?” Wanda finally asked, you shrugged with memory written in your eyes.

“Mom used to listen to it, America’s mom.” You clarified, “her mother used Elle to perfect her English when they first came here.”

Wanda nodded leaning closer, her arms sneaking around the nape of your neck. You wiggled your eyebrows bringing another chuckled from the young woman.

“And she taught you how to dance?”

“Yep.”

“Mom used to teach us as well,” Wanda rested her forehead against yours, “ours was more classical, but still it was nice. She was a little obsess of making me be a debutant, and Pietro a escort in the traditional sense.”

Wanda furrowed her brows at the memory, but whatever memory came with it soon was forgotten and replaced with a content smile.

“It was actually nice, and I enjoyed it greatly.”

“I would love to dance something classical, any song in mind?” You asked tentatively, Wanda opened her eyes a little taken aback by your inquiry.

“You want to? Really?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Wanda tilted her head thinking for a moment until the song finished and the both of you stood in the middle of the room just looking at one another. The young woman leaned in kissing you tentatively, when she parted from you your heart was already trembling under the sheer passion she shared through the kiss.

“No, perhaps later, right now I want to keep spoiling you.”

Not sooner had she said this, Wanda turned around making her way to the futons resting on the floor. She fixed them with care, full aware of your curious eyes on her; woman made sure to take her jacket off of her and fix everything so the both of you could rest comfortably on the floor.

“What else did you plan?” You finally asked approaching her with the same amount of curiosity, Wanda was smiling shrugging lightly.

“You’ll see, don’t be impatient.” Wanda hesitated for a moment before turning to you, “do you mind serving the wine and bring it over?”

“Not at all.” With one last glance you turned to the table ready to serve the wine when all of a sudden the lights went out.

You froze on the spot, lifting your head to see if perhaps it had been a malfunction in the system or there was something else involved. Soon, you could feel the breeze touching your heated face, the small resounding of drums that went increasing until music of ancient design filled the room and a single dot of white appeared on the far edge of the screen crossing the dome above your head like a shooting star.

You gasped turning around to see Wanda smiling at you, she had dismissed her heels and her coat approaching you while the music transformed into a soothing melody. She locked her eyes with yours, and while you couldn’t see it, you could feel her trembling hands on your blazer helping you out of it while fixing the posture of your sling.

No words were needed it when those fingers worked around the bottoms of your shirt and then she took you to the futons she had fixed on the ground. With a stretch out hand, you allowed her to direct you to the ground almost chocking on your spit when she knelt in front of you taking your shoes off of you.

“Wanda…” You couldn’t keep the silence, but your voice sounded strangled almost fearful to break the spell the both of you seemed to be in.

“This is about you.” She replied simply, crawling to you her lips found yours in the sweetest of kisses the both of you had shared so far.

You found yourself on your back, those lips dancing with yours in a silent invitation. Your heart was beating hard, you were sure the sound of the drums had long ago been replaced by the sound of your heart. Your put your open hand on the back of Wanda’s neck putting her closer until you were on your back and she was almost on top of you.

“I love you.” Wanda all but whisper in your ear, her face almost hidden in the crook of your neck while her warm breath caressed the skin behind your ear.

There was a moment of silence, your heart finally stopped while you registered those words coming from her. You never expected Wanda to say those three words any time soon, you understood the kind of pressure she had been in, and the life she had been living before meeting you. Hell, the amount of time the both of you had known each other wouldn’t give you both enough time to say such a deep declaration, yet you couldn’t deny what you had been feeling for the woman hovering above you at the moment.

Your eyes found those emerald ones, the affection she had always shown you was there gleaming with hope. She waited with her lips swollen, and a dust of pink on her cheeks; Wanda leaned in her nose playing with yours while her eyes closed to engrave the moment in her mind.

“I love you.” She said it again, this time around louder, stronger and you knew she meant it. Every single word.

Your eyes flickered soon to the screen above your head, this time around everything changed and it was as if the both of you were right outside. The night sky was gleaming above your head, with a million started twinkling merrily at you, the start gliding slowly until the movement of the starts start speeding up and soon everything changed and the first constellations came upon the screen.

Wanda could see the stars reflecting in your eyes, she was very careful with her weight always favouring your right side. Her lips curled into a smile when your face lit up with glee at the sight above your head; she remembered the first time she asked for help. America and Hope had been so sure about their proposal that Wanda couldn’t say no, but she opted to add some of the things she had learned from you in those conversations in the middle of the night.

“I love you, too.” You finally replied back, this time around those eyes were filled with affection and completely focused on Wanda.

The young woman dipped her head turning on her side until she was resting right beside you, her hand sneaking comfortably around your midsection.

“I’m sorry it took me this long to say it,” Wanda started but before you could reply she shot you a quick glance shaking her head, “you had been my saviour in so many ways. You can imagine where I was when I first met you.”

“I was a bitch on that meeting.” You recalled, but Wanda merely chuckled nodding.

“You were and I hated you for that.” Wanda turned to you never losing her smile or the affection in her voice, “and then I got to know you and I was…confused. You were making me feel so much, in so little time, and I was afraid.”

Wanda snuggled closer to you, “I’m not afraid anymore, and after thinking about it I realized I love you. As in, I’m in love with you, Y/N, and I don’t think I can stop my heart right now…”

“Why would you stop it?” You inquired turning on your side, wincing when you put some stressed on your left arm.

“I don’t know, what if…”

You leaned in kissing Wanda before she could finish her sentence, Wanda giggled welcoming the kiss before making sure you were back on your back instead of putting some unnecessary stress on your arm.

“Don’t think about the what ifs, Wanda.” You nodded to the sky above your heads, the music had changed into winds and cords, and the story of the first constellations came to be right in front of your eyes.

“I know it is too soon, still. That there is a lot to work on, but if you allowed it…I will be by your side until the last start in the sky had been consume by time.”

Wanda leaned closer to you, her face hidden once more by your neck though this time around you could feel her lips on your neck.

“How do you do it? How can you say such things and make me tremble until there is nothing else but you?”

“It’s a gift.” You chuckled when Wanda lifted her face rolling her eyes.

“I want to be with you, for as long as you want me, Y/N.”

“Then, let’s be together.” You sneaked your arm around her putting her on top of you, “let’s be a family and see where it goes.”

“I love you, and I just wanted to make sure you knew it.” Wanda insisted, you nodded pecking her nose.

“I know.”

“I wanted to make of this night something special,” Wanda said her hand lifting to cup your face and soon her fingers started dancing down your jaw to your neck to the open shirt. For you it was soon evident what she meant, and while she tried to look confident in what she was doing you could see the flash of uncertainty in her eyes.

Her hand was trembling, whatever expertise she had tried to show soon vanished when you realized she was getting closer to your chest.

“You don’t have to…you know?” You could see the glint of hesitation in her green eyes, Wanda clenched them closed in frustration. “Hey, Wands…look at me.”

It took a moment, but then she lifted her eyes and soon she was looking right at you.

“I don’t need sex to know I love you and that my heart is already yours, Wands. And I don’t need you to prove it to me; Wands whenever you are ready I’ll be here more than happy to make you scream in passion.”

Wanda gasped this time around her blush grew from her chest all the way to her cheeks, she tried to look away from you but you made it impossible for her to do so. Your wounded arm finding her face in a single caress.

“How can you be so understanding? God, I just…” Wanda leaned against your touch, “I feel foolish.”

“Never, Love, I just know… and I’m not in any hurry, whenever you are ready, I’ll be ready as well.”

Wanda sighed and whatever tension had been building around her left her body, this time around, when she kissed you she did it with the promise of the future. She laid down by your side, and soon she focused her stare on the stars above your head.

“I love it, this moment just you and me…”

“I thought we need it, you have been amazing with the twins but…” Wanda trailed off shrugging, “I think we were also needing this time to know one another. To actually share in an alone time.”

You smiled nodding your agreement, her hand found yours and soon your fingers intertwined with hers. The stars danced above your heads, and soon your voice joined the music and the different scenes playing with the constellations. You filled in the gaps with the stories you recognized, with Wanda asking questions or helping in the narration until soon you two were talking about mythology and reality.

“I wish this night would never end,” Wanda whispered glancing at the projection of the stars above her head, the show was about to end and she couldn’t help but voice what she had been experimenting in her heart.

“It doesn’t have to be over.” You replied turning to Wanda, the other woman furrowed her brows and you pressed your lips together turning on your side so you were facing her.

“Someday, right?” Wanda replied locking her eyes with yours.

“Someday.”

She smiled snuggling closer to you, “for now I wouldn’t say no to you sleeping with me, I mean without…I…”

You snickered placing a kiss on her forehead, “I know.”

“Did you imagine this will end like this?” Wanda finally asked, her eyes focusing on the sky above her head.

“No, I imagine it will start like this.” You glanced at the same stars, the same shooting star you saw at the beginning gleaming in the distance ready to travel through the sky.

“What do you mean?” Wanda scrunched up her nose, you placed a single kiss on her forehead nodding to the sky.

“I imagine this is how my relationship with you will start, and that after today we just ready to face the new challenges this relationship may bring.” You shrugged glancing down at Wanda, “I’ve been in love before, but…with you? It feels right, as if I was waiting for you.”

Wanda opened her eyes lightly before her expression softened.

“I realised that when…when you stood by my side regardless of my past.” Wanda rested her head on your shoulder, “I think this is the first time I have been in love and, I want you to be the only one.”

“well, love, you have a shooting star to make your wishes a reality.” You pointed to the screen and soon the shooting star crossed the dome and the show was over.

“what did you wish for?” Wanda inquired turning to you, you winked at her nuzzling her nose with yours.

“It’s a secret.”

“That’s not fair! You know what I ask for!”

“I do?” You furrowed your brows, Wanda nodded looking away for a moment before locking her eyes with yours.

“I wish for you to be my one and only love.”

You were shocked for a moment, but soon you answered to such words by kissing Wanda softly.

“And you?” Wanda finally said once you parted from the kiss.

“Me? Well, love, you will have to wait.” You smirked when Wanda seemed indignant at your declaration.

“Oh, come on!”

You pocked her nose, leaning in to kiss her pouting face away.

“Nu-uh, Princess, patience is a virtue, and I know you will know what I wish for with time.”

Wanda groaned in mock frustration, she was about to stand up but her hand grabbed her phone and soon a new projection started in the dome. You raised a single eyebrow when Wanda pinned you to the futon, her lips curling into a mischievous smile.

“Well, then, meanwhile I will just do the second part of my wish.”

“Second part?” Wanda nodded leaning in.

“Yep, I wish to kiss you, and show you how much I love you, how much I thank the skies for having me given the opportunity of meeting you.” Wanda then leaned closer to your face, “I wish to kiss you until the story above our heads is no more and the only option you have is to take me home and spend the night with me.”

“Then, my lady, allow me to make those wishes a reality.”

Their laughter soon filled the dome, and it came accompanied by a sudden gasp and the sound of kissing and playful banter.

Wanda never imagined that her decision to leave Vision would end up with her finding herself, while in the process getting a job and making new friends. Not even in her wildest dreams did Wanda imagine that she would come across someone like you that, for the very first moment create a lasting impression on her to the point Wanda decided to explore the relationship.

Her past had finally stayed in the past, with Vision in jail and her getting the full custody of her children, Wanda now was sure she could secure her future while at the same time seek out the peace and happiness she so desperately needed. Now, with you kissing her slowly while sharing a moment of pure, and unrestrained happiness, Wanda knew that every single decision she had taken had led her to that moment, it had led her to you.

And she didn’t regret it.

With you, Wanda understood that she didn’t need to lie to herself, that she didn’t need to hide or to run. With you, Wanda discovered she could be herself and finally give in.

To be loved, and to love.

That was all that matter.

**********

Three years later

Morning had arrived with a bright sun, and no clouds in the sky.

You served the coffee while glancing out the window, the sound of running footsteps brought a smile to your face knowing that the holidays were the perfect opportunity for the twins to break havoc. No sooner had you thought this, Billy and Tommy came through the door wearing the baggy pants and the t-shirt they had chosen to wear that day.

“Morning, Y/N!” Billy came to you wrapping his arms on your midsection before going to the fridge, Tommy chuckled sitting down on the stool waiting until Billy brought two glasses and set the orange juice on the table.

“You guys have a lot of energy for a Monday morning.” You hummed when they shook their heads innocently.

“Nu-uh, just…America told us she would take us to the lake.” Tommy said shrugging.

“And, we haven’t said anything about…you know.” Billy mumbled looking around the room before settling his eyes on you, “so we thought you would be happy to know we will be out of your hair today!”

You chuckled ruffling his hair affectionately, setting your coffee on the table while serving the orange juice to the boys.

They had grown a great deal and now at seven they were far smarter than you or even Wanda gave them credit for. Three years ago, you never thought possible to fall in love again, nor did you thought whatever started as a tentative relationship would end up being the best that happened to you. You glanced at the boys that started talking animatedly while mentioning the different places America and Kate were supposed to taken them to, you smiled knowing your sister adored them and was about ready to do whatever they wanted as long as she got to spend some time to them.

You sighed leaning against the counter taking a long sip from the coffee, in the last years a lot of things had changed in your life. America had finally found her passion, she had decided to pursue a career in international affairs and her path led her directly into one of the most important universities in Europe, which ended up with Kate studying a couple of miles away from her. Whatever had started as a school crush, it had developed into a serious relationship that both of them had dealt with maturity.

You had finally gotten the time you needed to organise the business, and while your presence was always required when important matters arise, you had taken it upon yourself to be in charge of the development section of the company. It was easier, and it gave you the time you needed to spend with Wanda and the children.

The sound of childish argument brough a smile into your face, soon you caught the well-known voice of your girlfriend and your heat melt right away when Wanda appeared behind the hall wearing a familiar frown while placing her hands on her hips.

“Okay, you two, stop this argument right now or there won’t be any outing with America.”

“Yes, mum!” The twins said at the same time focusing on their beverages.

You locked your eyes with Wanda, your lips curling into a smile while the woman softened completely making her way to where you were standing casually. She leaned in pecking your lips while stealing your mug.

“Morning.” You whispered wrapping your arm around her hips, she giggled leaning forward before accepting a deeper kiss.

“Ugh, mom!”

“Y/N!”

You finished the kiss turning to them, “I will hold you to this moment when you guys bring over your partners home and decided to kiss them in front of us.”

“No!”

“Never!”

“I would never be this corny!”

“Never!”

You chuckled rolling your eyes, Wanda leaned in kissing you one more time before going to the coffee maker and serving another cup of coffee. You glanced at your watch knowing America would be there any moment now, your heart beating a tad bit faster while the heavy void you had felt on your lower abdomen increased and your chest tightened at what you had planned for the day.

Tommy and Billy glanced at one another before placing their hands on their mouth and snickering, you mock glared at them and the sudden exchanged didn’t go amiss to Wanda. The young woman narrowed her eyes standing right beside you.

“Okay, what is it?” She asked, and her suspicions only grew when the three of you answered at the same time.

“Nothing!”

You glanced at the twins, the three of you started laughing while Wanda softened her features. Even if she got curious, and a little wary, she couldn’t help but love these moments in which you and the twins would behave like a family. Once she had given in, you became the light of her life, your smile and your occurrences were always a source of amusement and tenderness, and the twins had come to love you in ways Wanda thought would be difficult to do so. They accept you faster than what she thought, and ever since that day after the planetarium you and her had been together in the good, the bad, the ugly and the pretty.

“You guys…” Wanda started but whatever she was going to say was cut short by a knock on the door.

“Save by the bell, guys! That must be America, love.” You gave Wanda a quick peck on her lips before running towards the door, once more the twins looked at one another before holding back their snickers.

“Okay, what is it?”

“Nu-uh, mom, it’s a secret!” Tommy said emptying the glass in a single sip.

“We promised not to say anything, mom.” Billy continued shrugging before approaching Wanda and offering her a hug, “but I love you!”

Wanda narrowed her eyes hugging Billy back, “I love you too, both of you.”

“Hey!! Where are my favourite guys in the whole world?!”

America stretched her arms to welcome Billy and Tommy, Kate rolled her eyes moving past them with a smile to greet Wanda. Wanda chuckled when their attention turned to Kate, America approached her wrapping her arms around the young woman.

“Ugh, I missed you so much, Wands! How’s everything? My sister still giving you trouble?”

“Hey! I never gave her any trouble, did I?” You pouted standing beside Wanda, the other woman shook her head putting you closer to her.

“Never, my love, you are a well-behaved girlfriend whenever you and the twins are not playing to break havoc.” Wanda pecked your lips turning to America. “Everything is perfect, but I have a feeling my girlfriend and my sons are planning something I should know about.”

This times around America opened her eyes with her mouth hanging opened, Kate gasped and the twins put their hands on their mouths. You snorted rolling your eyes, with this level of secrecy it was a surprised Wanda had not really discovered what you had planned for her that day.

“No, I mean there is no…Oh, look at the time, guys are you ready?” Kate babbled looking around while trying to evade any interaction with Wanda who had her eyes on her.

America snorted softening her stare while her girlfriend took the twins to their room, she then turned to Wanda who had a single eyebrow lifted waiting for an explanation she would not receive. At least, not from America.

“Don’t look at me, I’m just a passerby ready to take the twins on an adventure of a lifetime.” She said lifting her arms, Wanda snorted turning to you.

“You know, sooner or later I will find out your secrets?”

“I’m counting on it, Wands.” You whispered leaning in to kiss her, “now, how about you go and take a bath and I help America around.”

Wanda nodded dreamily, she gave you a quick smile before turning to America and giving the young woman another hug.

“It is good to see you again, America, see you tonight at dinner, right?”

“Yeo, we will be there!” America glanced at Wanda walking away, she waited until she was pretty sure Wanda had left before turning to you. “Well?”

“Well? You’re the one who should tell me if everything is ready!” You whispered harshly at your sister glancing down the corridor before settling your eyes on America.

The young woman rolled her eyes, but her lips played a familiar smile while she tapped something on her phone. Soon you were giving a fine idea of what she had prepared with the help of Kate and your friends; it had been hard at first to get what you needed to make of that day special. Your face lit up completely, and America could see the ghost of a smile on your lips while your eyes scanned the images she had store on her phone.

When you first shared with America your intentions, the young woman had been excited. In the last couple of years, she had seen the love between you and Wanda grow in something completely different. It was not the same relationship you shared with Shuri, and certainly it wasn’t the same type of relationship Wanda had shared with Jarvis. The both of you had been the best that could happen to the other, Wanda had learnt to love and be love, to trust in herself while also trust in the affection others held for her. You learnt to let go and to actually trust in the person beside you, you got to see how Wanda was ready to be a part of your life without losing her own little universe with the twins.

It had been a rocky path, there were fights, and sometimes it was quite difficult to fight against the demons of the past. But, America knew, if it hadn’t been because of the deep love you two felt for one another, the relationship would have been over years ago.

“I think she will love it, and I’m just…” America trailed off before offering you a quick hug, “I think this is amazing.”

You sighed putting your hand inside your pocket, the squared box resting inside your pocket.

“Thank you, this looks amazing.” You glanced at the hall before turning to America, “at what time you think we can go over there?”

“Mmm, I would say the best would be around 4pm, we will be there waiting for you so…” America waved her hands excited, “God, I can’t hardly wait, please tell me if anything happens.”

“I will, Kiddo, thank you.” You wrapped your arms around her, “I really missed you.”

“I missed you too.” America chuckled when she caught the excited chatter of the twins and Kate coming over, “now, I will take them off of your plate for a while, we will have time to get up to date, for now, go!”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You watched as they left in the midst of laughter and light conversation, your hand sneaking inside your pocket putting out the black box you had bought a long time ago. Your heart skipped a beat, your hand clenching tightly around it ready to give the next step in your relationship with Wanda. Your lips broke into a tender smile, the memories of the last three years filling up your mind with determination and love.

“Y/N?”

You put the box away turning to see Wanda approaching you slowly, the swinging of her hips and that flirty smile she wore made your mouth go dry and your lower abdomen tingled with anticipation.

“Yes?” You asked, Wanda came to you chewing on her lower lip playfully.

“Since the kids are gone, and you and I are alone, I thought…we could shower together, don’t you think?” This was said in a low, husky tone, her lips wrapping around your earlobe while her hands sneaked inside your shirt.

“I think…you have a wicked mind, Wands.” You replied, but before Wanda could do or said anything else you took her in your arms crashing your lips to hers.

Needless to say, you and she left the home later than what you should, but the both of you had satiated the thirst you had for one another. Love evident in your faces, as you walked around the city hand by hand.

_________________________________

The country of Sokovia was a beautiful land with a rich past and a colourful landscape.

Wanda had been excited when you announced the trip, not really believing you were going to comply with her wishes until you present her with the four plane tickets. By the time you four had arrived at the city of Novi Grad, Wanda had been completely excited telling you and her children all about her hometown. She spoke of the difficult times they had lived, and the wonderful things the new government had done to fix the mistakes of the past.

Billy and Tommy had been avid listeners, and they had started talking to Wanda and to you in sokovian while Wanda was just completely happy with the development on their vacations. You had been just happy to see her smile, to see the excitement in her eyes when she pointed to all the places she remembered.

“I still can believe you brought me here.” Wanda said sitting down on the table right outside a beautiful balcony looking at the far away mountains covering half of the city.

“Why not?” You replied taking the menu with a smile, “if anything, I should be sorry for taking so long, but you know? Life has been getting in the way, and I wanted for you to have time to enjoy this place.”

Wanda didn’t know how you did it, the way you were always giving it your all to make her happy. She leaned forward placing her hand on top of yours.

“This is perfect, and it’s the perfect time.”

You smiled back at her, looking at the menu while glancing at the watch on your wrist. You were getting restless as the time for the main event approached; Wanda was looking at her menu pursing her lips before returning her attention to you.

“Can I order something for you? There is something in here I want you to try out…” She trailed off glancing away for a moment, a shadow crossing her eyes, “it is something mom used to cook for me and Pietro and I just…”

“I would love to, Wands. Go ahead, you’re the expert so we will do as you said.” You replied closing the menu, you waited until the food had been ordered before leaning forward playing with Wanda’s fingers.

“You know? Now that you mentioned this about the food, I remember the story you told me once.”

“Which one?” Wanda furrowed her brows blinking away while trying to remember.

“The one about the forest, is around here, isn’t it?”

The way her eyes opened wide, and her whole face lit up made your heart skipped a beat. You couldn’t take your eyes off of her as she turned around trying to point out the direction in which the forest was located.

“Yes! Oh, I can believe you remember…”

“I remembered everything you tell me, love.” You replied, and it was the tone of voice you used what made Wanda turned to you with narrowed eyes, you softened your features offering a reassuring smile to her.

“I always make the effort to have it in my mind so I can make sure to bring happiness to you, to see the very same expression you are wearing at the moment.”

Wanda turned her head away, her cheeks burning bright red while she smiled tenderly at your words. Even after all this time you still got to make her feel so self-conscious of the love you profess to her.

“I love you for that.” Wanda finally said, and you smiled back at her winking.

“Well, what about you and I go over there after lunch? I’m pretty sure at this time of the year must be quite the sight.”

“You mean it?” Wanda exclaimed excitedly, you nodded and soon thank the heavens you were sitting down for the kiss she gave you made your knees trembled and your whole body tingled with anticipation.

******

The afternoon was falling slowly, the wind was cold so the burning sun above your heads was not as strong as it could have been in a dry weather.

You and Wanda walked down the city, your hand joined in a single embrace while conversation flew with easiness. The topics varied from school, to your work, to the recent happenings of the world, to the twins and America; soon you two found yourselves talking about movies and books, the places you would like to visit or the worlds you would like to be in.

Life with Wanda was never bored, and every single time you discovered something new about her that made you fall in love with her even more.

Her excitement at being in her country was something you would cherish forever.

She dragged you down the streets, and then down the pebbled road leading to the forest. The place had changed since she was last there, it was now a national park that had been taken care off with the strictest rules and cares a country could provide to such a beautiful setting.

You took a deep breath when the road spread before your eyes, your eyes lifted to the signs, most of them pointing to different sections of the forest. Your eyes finally fell on the word Lake, and you lifted your hand to point it out to your girlfriend.

“There, lake, can we go there?”

“Yes, of course!”

You chuckled when she just grabbed your hand again, she twirled around wrapping her arms around your neck leaning in to kiss you slowly.

“Have a told you how much I love you?” She asked playfully, you placed your hands on her waist helping her walked backwards while you advanced down the road with her in your arms.

“Mmhm, not recently, no. I think I need a reminder.”

Wanda giggled leaning in, her kisses were soft and tentative, “I love you, Y/N, every time I think this is not possible, I fall in love with you even more and I just…”

Your heart shrank at her confession, putting her to you with your lips moulding against hers you poured all the love you felt for her.

“I love you to, Wands.”

Wanda sighed standing by your side lifting her face to the trees above her, her eyes gleaming happily just as the both of you advanced towards the lake. The forest was located it twenty minutes away from the city, and the entrance had been built around a public parking lot where people could acquire all the necessary materials for camping or a nice picnic. Some of the different paths had been fixed to give easy access to the people that visit the place, but the road leading to the lake had been left untouched with the nature almost claiming it back.

You were admiring the huge trees surrounding the area, the sound of the birds and other animals running around to hide away from the humans. You lifted your stare to see the blue sky above your head, and the cold breeze touching your heated skin. Everything was quiet and peaceful, only the sound of your footsteps seemed to interrupt the sounds of the nature.

Your eyes lifted squinting them when you spot the opening right ahead of you, your lips curling slightly when you finally spotted something else. You had arrived to the lake, with a quick gesture you stood before Wanda stopping her advanced towards her destination.

“What is it?” Just like she did early in the morning, she narrowed her eyes with a glint of suspicion gleaming in them. You shifted your weigh from one foot to the other, your hand scratching the back of your neck while your eyes danced around instead of facing Wanda.

You stood before her, your hand sneaking inside your pocket until you brough forth a single blindfold. She cocked a brow, half-amused, half-expectant at what you had planned.

“I may or may not have planned something for you.” You said tentatively, Wanda snorted but all you could see in her face was love and amusement.

“Figures, and I bet Billy, Tommy, America and Kate are in it?” She already knew the answer, but there was something else she couldn’t pinpoint to.

“Yep.” You admitted lifting your hand, “there is something… I mean, it is a surprised.”

“And I have to wear the blindfold.” Wanda grabbed the piece of clothing, never losing her smile, she winked at you, “kinky, perhaps later on we can use it for other…kind of surprised?”

You laughed out loud shaking your head while helping the brunette put on the blindfold.

“I love how your wicked mind works, Mrs. Maximoff.”

“Well, I love it when you play along, Mrs. Y/L/N.”

You let out a deep breath, the sun was still high in the sky and now Wanda stood before you blindfolded. Her hand found yours, squeezing comfortingly with that beautiful smile you had come to love and crave.

“Are you okay?” She finally asked, you swallowed down your doubts nodding before you remembered she couldn’t see you.

“I am.” Then, as an afterthought, “I’m just nervous.”

Wanda brought your hand to her lips, never losing her smile.

“Whatever it is you prepared for me, I know I would love it and…Y/N…there is no one else I would love to be with right now, you are the love of my life.”

You chuckled loving the tenderness Wanda used when talking to you, the fact she had come to know your insecurities and was always ready to reassure you of her love and your worth.

“And you are mine, Wands, now let’s go…”

You grabbed her hand and without wasting any more time you led her down the road towards the lake.

The lake was a great extension of water that spread out before a small beach surrounded by the forest. It was filled with grass, trees and bushes, with a crystalline water that was reflecting the light of the sun and the colour of the sky at the moment. This part of the forest was usually used for light lunches, and some swimming but at this time of the year the place was emptied and you had taken advantage of your money to get this small spot for you and your family for a couple of hours.

There was a single bench that had been decorated with red and pink, there were some balloons with a bucket filled with ice and wine. You helped your girlfriend so she could sit on the bench, all around her there was nothing more than flowers, blue lilies and orchids, the full scene had been planned out and built with the help of America and Kate that had just come from their hiding place with the twins.

You smiled at them putting a finger to your lips, standing before Wanda you pulled your mobile out of your pocket and let a single song filled the silence around the both of you.

“Oh, that’s…” Wanda trailed off when she recognized the trumpets and the melodic voice of Elle Fitzgerald. “Y/N…”

Your name sound beautifully on her lips, you took a deep breath looking around the place knowing you had chosen right. The lake was gleaming to your right, while the forest stood to your left, the mountains wearing a white bald head projected a protective shadow on the valley. This was what Wanda had always desired, what she had harboured in her heart when she still believed in love.

“Y/N…” She repeated your name, this time around with a hint of apprehension in her voice.

You knelt before her, your left knee touching the ground while your right knee bend to hold your elbow up your hand opening the box you had been carrying with you for over a year.

“You can take the blindfold off, Wanda.” You finally said, and your voice trembled with the sheer emotion you were experimenting at the moment.

Wanda took her blindfold, soon her breath caught in her throat and whatever sight she had before her became a blurred of colours and familiar images. Right in front of her was the lake and the forest of her childhood, the very same she had visited in her mind and memory after leaving Sokovia behind. Her green eyes flickered around until they found your eyes, and soon they fell upon the box in your hand and the silver ring resting in there.

The music was still playing around the both of you, and Wanda wanted to see if there was someone else or if the both of you were alone. But she was incapable of looking everywhere but at you.

Your lips trembled, your hand trying to hold still as you cleared your throat lifting your chin to face her with determination and love.

“Wanda Maximoff, I have brought you here because I love you.” You stated taking a deep breath making sure you never wavered in your intentions. “I realized a long time ago I can’t even think of the possibility of not having you by my side, of not living and growing old with you.”

Wanda sat frozen on the bench, her heart hammering hard against her chest while her stomach drop and her body tingled all over until a heavy pressured settled on her chest.

“I have loved you from the moment I met you, I just didn’t know it yet.” You chuckled shaking your head, “and I would love to make you happy, to love you, to cherish you, and to be your friend, your partner if you allow me…so, today in this place and with my heart on my hands, I want to ask you…”

“Yes…” Wanda whispered, you furrowed your brows shaking your head.

“No, wait, I need to ask…”

“Marry me?” Wanda asked, her voice trembling and her lips breaking into a content smile, you frowned though your eyes gleamed with amusement.

“No, you marry me, please?”

Wanda threw herself at you, her arms wrapped tightly around you while you fell to the ground hugging her back. She was sobbing, her voice a mere whispered in your ear.

“Yes, yes, I will…Yes, I marry you.”

You laughed turning your head and kissing her deeply.

“Then, yes, I marry you too, Wands.”

America and Kate both rolled their eyes, but the twins were squealing excitedly no longer able to hold themselves the run towards you and Wanda joining in the embrace.

Wanda turned to them surprised, returning their hug while turning to you and stretching her left hand where you placed the ring on her finger. Your smile was huge, and it was matching hers with the twins hugging both of you while talking excitedly.

“That means I can call you mom now?!” Tommy finally asked with you almost choking on your spit.

Wanda rolled her eyes fixing his hair before lifting her eyes to glance at you.

“Only if she wants to, Tommy.”

“You want to, don’t you, Y/N?” Tommy asked pouting, you ruffled his hair putting him to you.

“Only if I get to call you Tommy bear!”

Laughter soon filled the lake, with everyone enjoying the rest of the afternoon while you alongside with Kate, America and Wanda toast to the engagement.

“I can believe you…” Wanda closed the distance tilting her head to taste your lips with hers, you smile into the kiss with your hands placing themselves on her hips.

“You remember…” She said softly, in between kisses.

“I never forgot, Wands. With you, everything is easier, you know? I love you, and I just…I want to make you happy.”

“You make me happy already.” She replied leaning into your embrace, “but I will be complete the moment I can call you my wife.”

You smiled placing a single kiss on her forehead.

“I will be complete the moment I can call you wife as well.”

Wanda turned in your arms, her eyes following her children while they talked and played along with America and Kate. You placed your chin on her shoulder, watching the same scene with a soft smile adorning your features. The young woman lifted her hand to see the ring you had placed moments ago, a green stone that matched her eyes and white gold recovering the ring.

Her life was finally hers, and her happiness was finally something she knew she deserved and that was right there for her to live it. Wanda never imagined the moment she made the decision of leaving Vision her life would change so drastically, she never even played with the idea of falling in love again or finding someone ready to be patient with her past and fall in love with her.

Wanda never entertained the idea of anyone wanting to marry someone like her, damage and with two kids that were still growing up. Then, she met you. And she couldn’t imagine being without you by her side.

With you, she learnt to love again, to trust and to give herself without fear.

“Tonight, America and Kate are taking the twins to a festival and then back to their Air BnB so…we have the house for ourselves, to celebrate.” You whispered playfully, Wanda leaned back placing her hands on yours.

She tilted her head with her lips teasing yours.

“Then, let’s celebrate with them first, before I show you my appreciation for all the wonderful things you do for me.”

“It’s a deal, Love.”

“Y/N.” She called your name with a serious tone, you turned to her welcoming her kiss before smiling goofily at her.

“What was that for?”

“I love you.” She said simply, you softened squeezing her hand comfortingly.

“I love you, now and forever.”

And, of that, Wanda didn’t have any doubt for she too love you now and forever, until the end of time.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wandaxreader #female reader #imagine wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #reader #Female reader #Wanda Maximoff

213 notes · View notes

cafeinthemoon · 11 months ago

Text

Ruins - Part XXI + Extra Content

Chapter 22

Wordcount 3,3k

Title Part XXI

Fandom Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Record of Ragnarok

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10 . 11 . 12 . 13 . 14 . 15 . 16 . 17 . 18 . 19 . 20

Symbols ⭕ . ➕ . 💛

Warnings: none

Tagging @holdyourwine @lilacshouko @shirayuki-ayumi @telvess (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: I'm glad I can share this chapter with you bc I couldn't wait to post it anymore! I wanted this moment between them to be special not only bc it is, you know, they honeymoon, but bc what it will mean for both of them in the future: the trust, the intimacy and the respect they have for each other can be sensed in each second, and it's expected to grow stronger. I really wanted to depict what a healthy relationship means when I had the idea for this story, and that's why I'm putting such effort in these things.

Also I wanted to include some humor in it as well, so I hope you enjoy the content by the end of this chapter as well haha

Your face warmed up when the god revealed his identity.

So, the doctor of the gods is Apollo’s son.

You would still need time to conciliate it, since Asclepius looked like a twin of his own father, but despite your surprise, you soon caught up with the good manners and greeted him with the owned respect.

– It is an honor for me to finally meet you as well, Asclepius-sama – you gave him a fainting smile – I apologize for my first reaction, but you really resemble the God of the Su…

Your last word was interrupted by a sudden decrease on your blood pressure, and your head fell back on your pillow. Hades rushed to your side.

– Y/n? – he helped you to sit and adjusted the pillow behind your back – Are you alright?

– I am – you sighed – For a moment, my body felt heavy again and my sight got dark, but it’s coming back again…

When your sight was finally reestablished, you looked at Asclepius and noticed he had a serious expression. He approached your spot and sat on the bed, placing the cane beside him and taking off the bag from his shoulder.

– These episodes of weakness… when exactly did they start?

You made an effort to remember, but even this was painful for you.

– One or two hours after I drank the ambrosia, I guess. But it was easy to handle... at least until I sensed the beginning of a headache. I passed out for the first time in our way here, on the corridor. But this isn’t everything: while I stood here, waiting for you, my Lord, I noticed my senses... increasing – you indicated the opened balcony with a frail hand – I’ve been hearing the nightly animals as if they’re close to this room, but they’re actually miles away, and all these sounds make the headache worst.

Asclepius thought of this for a moment, a hand under his chin. Then, he took out a strange instrument from his bag, something that resembled a portable mirror.

– Please, put your palm over the lens – he asked and you obeyed, putting your hand over the place where the glass would be if it was a mirror – Keep it there for a few seconds.

You sensed a cold upon your skin, as a glowing light appeared and vanished, little by little until everything was dark again. The exam was finished. Asclepius thanked your collaboration and analyzed the instrument. You glanced over the lens and noticed a purplish glow over them, in a shade that resembled the one of your hair now.

– It is just as Zeus-sama said – he started – You are on the growing spectrum. The blessed fluid is slowly assimilating your natural characteristics and expanding them beyond the human limits. However, your body is still mortal, and this is the cause of the uncomfortable symptoms: your immune system still views these changes as signs of sickness and it’s trying to fight it, but as the ambrosia takes over your cells, turning them into divine ones, they will become the majority, and your body will no longer react as if you were sick.

You swallowed. Knowing what was going on with your body was somewhat relieving, but you were still worried about the possibility of the symptoms increasing, and you exposed those preoccupations to him.

– About this, I might have a solution – he replied with a kind smile – Just give me a second.

He turned the instrument off and put it back in the bag and started searching for something else inside it. Finally, he took out a small bottle from it and handled it to Hades, who received it with a frown.

– Don’t tell me that it is what I think it is…

You leaned to your husband, trying to observe the bottle, then turned to the other god.

– What is this?

Asclepius had a curious expression that deepened his resemblance with Apollo: the grin of someone who had the undivided attention of powerful beings.

– Hades-sama may tell you this story later, when you have more disposition to listen to it – he replied – But to summarize, it is the medicine I created to cease a terrible plague that almost ended humanity in the past. I don’t want to brag about it, but its effectiveness was such that some men became immortal, and Hellheim lost potential inhabitants thanks to it.

Hades sighed by your side.

– Those were chaotic times, in fact, but I’m glad everything was solved – he gave the bottle to you.

You turned to the doctor.

– If this was the effect on human beings, how am I going to react to this medicine now that I’m already becoming a goddess?

– It will diminish the discomfort caused by the metamorphosis – he explained – And it will do this without interfering in the process, like other substances would do, which would be too risky. You see, you’re not really sick, y/n-san. You’re just changing. Then, I recommend you to take it only when you feel you’re not going to stand the symptoms for any longer. Small doses are enough to help you.

Asclepius’ last words sounded as comforting the ones of an adult who was trying to console his child about growing up. You didn’t find it offensive, though: being someone who was used to observe how the living beings’ bodies work, maybe it was exactly the way he thought of the situation; you were leaving the childish state of being a mortal and was now entering the adulthood of existence by becoming a divine being. Of course, the process would be scary and even painful at some point, but it was also a wonderful experience.

Suddenly, you remembered something you’ve been wanting to ask to the gods you were more familiar with, but haven’t had the opportunity.

– Ah, about this, there’s something I’d like to know, Asclepius-sama – you observed the bottle in your hands – Is it possible to tell what type of goddess I’m going to be?

He thought of the question for a while.

– According to what Zeus-sama told me, you’re on the growing spectrum. I don’t know how much he told you about this, but your side on the spectrum of transformations usually determines what types of power you might hold. Gods with the same process as you use to have familiarity with wildlife, the cycles of nature and rebirth. Demeter and Chloris, though they were divine since the start, are this type of goddesses. It’s too soon to tell if your powers are going to be similar to theirs, but they will work under the same principles.

You pondered for a moment, then turned to your husband.

– It makes sense when we remember our dreams about the ruins, Hades.

– Indeed – he agreed – A living human visiting the world of the dead really seemed to be a sign back then. Now we need to observe the development of your powers to reach a better understanding of it.

Asclepius, who was hearing the conversation in silence, stood up put his bag back around his shoulder and grabbed his cane.

– Hades-sama, y/n-san, my sincere wish is to see you reach the referred understanding. It will be a great achievement for yourselves and for the world of the gods – he bowed his head – Now, if you excuse me, other matters demand my attention.

Hades stood up right after him.

– Will you stay in Valhalla, then?

– Yes. Usually, I would visit Valhalla every six months to check on the girls’ health, but personal problems prevented me from coming in the last semester – the doctor explained; and, turning to you, – This is why you’re only seeing me for the first time now, y/n-san. Finally, try to take as much rest as possible. This is as important as the medicine I gave you.

You gave him a cordial smile.

– I will do this, Asclepius-sama. Thank you for everything.

The god bowed for the second time.

– It’s good to hear that. And, if you need me, I will be in the chambers besides Hermes’.

– Thank you for answering our call, Asclepius – Hades replied – I will accompany you to the door.

The two men left and your husband closed the door behind him. You observed the small bottle in your hands for a while before putting it upon the night stand at the left side of the bed and letting your head fall on the pillows.

***

Hades came back to your chambers after a few minutes, stating that he was going to take a bath himself.

– Are you going to be alright while I’m there? – he asked while caressing your hair.

– I am – you smiled, still lying your head on the pillow – If things get complicated, I’ll be following Asclepius-sama’s instructions.

– Good – he bent down to kiss the top of your head – I’ll be right back.

You never had a clear memory of what happened after he left you, but you were inclined to think you just stood in bed, in the dark, your consciousness slipping out as you listened to the murmur of the shower somewhere near you. You were tired and weak due to the transformation, but you were in peace: you had a medicine to lean on, the man you loved was close and your family was out there having fun.

Everything is in its right place.

It was impossible to measure how long you stood in that quiet, peaceful state, somewhere between asleep and awake, but it changed when your body began to feel cold; this cold appeared first in your feet and spread to your legs, then to the rest of your limbs as you pulled the sheets more and more against yourself, but your efforts to keep the warmth were useless, for the cold didn’t come from the outside, and soon you were taken over by successive shivers. You tried to move to your side, but felt your body heavy, as if your blood pressure got suddenly low again; this time, your head started spinning. You knew your situation were getting more serious, and couldn’t help feeling anxious.

You tried to move back to your previous position, to reach for the medicine on the night stand, but your attempt failed: your body barely obeyed you. Now you were really scared, and before you did anything to avoid it, you were already breathless and crying.

What’s going on? What’s happening to me? Am I going to...

A yellowish light appeared on the wall above your head, illuminating the headboard and the painting over it (you opted to keep the art with the fawn and the nymphs). With one last effort, you moved the sheets away and saw the bathroom’s door opened: Hades’ silhouette was stepping out of it, wrapped in a robe. You couldn’t keep looking, because the headache increased, forcing you to close your eyes.

Apparently, your bad state was evident from far, because soon he rushed to your side.

– What is it, y/n? What’s happening?

You tried to sit on the bed, but your body didn’t obey you. You only managed to change your position with his help.

– I don’t know... – you whispered, covering your forehead with your hand – My head hurts… And I couldn’t even reach for the medicine…

Making you look up to him, he moved your hand away and put his palm over your forehead, then on each side of your neck.

– You got a fever – was his worried answer – And a bad one.

Your heart jumped at those words.

– It explains this cold I’m feeling… It’s so scary… – you sighed and passed your arms around yourself as another shiver spread through your body; you raised your eyes to him, raising a trembling hand to hold the sleeve of his robe – Can you stay with me?

Hades stared at you for a moment, a glimmer of compassion in his eyes. Maybe he was thinking the same as you: that was going to be the first time you were sharing a bed; of course, none of you expected this moment to be like this, but it was there before you, and both of you sensed the importance of it.

Your husband sat by your side and wiped your tears, involving you in his arms and kissing your forehead.

– Of course I can, little one – he then grabbed the medicine and opened the bottle, holding it close to your lips – Take it.

You accepted the remedy and, after a small dose, he put it back on its previous place, then turned around the bed and took off his robe; he left the piece on the back of a chair beside the bed and finally took the place by your side.

– Come here – he passed his arms around your body and placed you between them, your head leaning on his chest, your legs folded between his.

You moaned when a new, stronger shiver spread all over your body.

– I’m so scared...

You felt the warmth of his hand massaging your back and curled yourself more on his lap.

– I know – he whispered – But I’m here with you – and, kissing your hair, – And if things get tough, we have a doctor nearby, okay?

– Okay – your voice faded as you replied; and, with an attempt to laugh, – You know… I’ve been wondering how our first night together would be like… And, among all the possibilities, I’ve never considered something like this… I’m so sorry for ruining it...

– What are you apologizing for, little one? – you felt his fingers fondling your hair – You’re turning into a goddess. The most beautiful one. There’s nothing to be sorry about.

– But I wanted to give you… to give us better moments… It’s our honeymoon, after all…

He strengthened his grip around you and kissed you again.

– Each moment, and each night we will spend together will be better than the other. This is just the first one. You don’t have t lose your head over it.

You spent a moment in silence, gathering strength to reply.

– I see…

In fact, you were anxious about that night for weeks, so when it finally came, it was only natural that you felt frustrated, even disappointed with yourself, to see things happening in an uncomfortable, unplanned way. But another thing you weren’t expecting was to find relief while speaking about your feelings and then being understood by your husband: perhaps you’ve been putting so much expectation in your own part in this that you forgot you weren’t going to take care of it by yourself; yet counting on each other was a golden rule of relationships, even more in romantic ones.

I still have too much to learn.

Fortunately for you, you had a reasonable partner, one who have learned the art of patience for centuries and who would teach you in this sense for the next ages. Ages… when you remembered that this was going to be your lifespan, your heart ached, and more shivers hit your body, but guiding your thoughts away from it would calm them down, and with effort you trained yourself in this sense.

That night was long. You spent all of it in the arms of the King of the Underworld, alternating between moments of dreamless sleep and tired consciousness; this extended as the transformation went on, and the fever diminished as the hours passed. During those painful hours, Hades was always there with you, whether talking or just caressing you; as you got used to his warmth, you noticed the cold ceasing, and as the metamorphosis became more tolerable, your body relaxed more and more in his embrace. Slowly, as the new day approached, you were recovering the sense of control over yourself, and the fear of the future diminished, until it completely disappeared.

***

The first hours of the next day were something between dream and reality, for you witnessed – well, you listened to – curious things, but had no ways to decide if they indeed happened or if they were just your imagination.

At some point, you woke up, but didn’t open your eyes. You sensed you were alone in the bed, but it was still warm, and you supposed that Hades might have left moments ago. Though the room was quiet, you had the impression that your husband was in the living room with a visitor – paying close attention, you recognized Poseidon’s composed tone. They had a brief talk when most of what was said was in a foreign, ancient language that, thanks to the lessons given by your husband, you identified as Greek.

Apparently, Poseidon was going to leave Valhalla that day and came to see his brother before the travel. Besides the rapid, murmuring exchange of words in Greek, there was some chuckling, so you had no idea of what was being said (and you'd rather remain oblivious to it).

But then the conversation turned to a language you were able to fully understand.

– You don’t need to worry about that – Hades was saying – She wasn’t in conditions anyway. The changing is being successful, but it has been taking too much from her mortal body. She had a bad fever during night, but it was gone last time I checked.

– Did you call Asclepius to see her? – Poseidon inquired.

– Yes. He gave her a potion for her discomfort, but she wasn’t really medicated – your husband replied – The process of having your biology rewritten, according to him, can take longer or shorter depending on your body’s conditions, and cannot be interrupted or altered by the ingestion of medicine. Besides, as the altered cells become the majority in one’s body, the process becomes easier, and their immune system no longer recognizes the mutation as a problem. I talked to him moments ago to keep him in touch with the situation. He believes that she will be one of us by the end of this day.

– I see – his brother said – If this is the case, then she has suffered less than Heracles, who almost had his body swallowed by fire.

Hades laughed at this.

– Yes, but, please, don’t say this in front of her next time you see us.

– Alright – Poseidon’s voice softened – Send my regards to her when she wakes up.

They exchanged a few words in Greek, then said their farewell in the common language.

– I must go, now. Goodbye, brother.

– Goodbye. Be well.

A door was opened at the distance, a few steps were heard beyond it, then the door was closed, followed by utter silence.

***

Extra content

This is part of what was said between the brothers in ancient Greek, alternated with laughter and inner jokes that are impossible to translate:

– Good morning, elder brother. I came to say farewell. Some things demand my immediate attention in the Seas.

– I see. Truth is that I was expecting to have your company during our breakfast, but I knew that it wouldn’t be possible.

– You and your not-so-subtle way to call me antisocial. Anyways, I would have communicated my intentions sooner, but we haven’t the chance to speak yesterday and I didn’t want to interrupt your moments together. So... I am not interrupting anything now, I hope.

– Absolutely not. But if you’ve showed up earlier, you would’ve found the doors locked.

– I wouldn’t judge you. Not after what we saw at the party. You would be a fool if you didn’t take measures to keep your runaway bride safe.

– Please, don’t say these things about her. With that gaze of yours upon me, I would’ve run if I was a human girl too!

– Watch your mouth, old man! She only ran after she saw you. She was perfectly fine with us.

– Hey!

– Speaking of this, how is she doing?

– A bit tired, but well. Sleeping like a little lamb.

– Hm... You already reached the phase of the ridiculous nicknames, brother?

– Everyone reaches that phase, sooner or later. Just wait.

– Hmpf. I won’t have you cursing my fate, old man.

– It’s not a curse. You’ll thank me later.

Part XXII

#snv x reader #ror x reader #snv hades x reader #ror hades x reader #record of ragnarok hades #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie hades #record of ragnarok x reader

76 notes · View notes

missbubblesoda · 1 year ago

Text

early in the morning, especially when it rains, and a little before noon. (18)

erwin x fem!reader

chapters: (1) | (2) | (3) | (4) | (5) | (6) | (7) | (8) | (9) | (10) | (11) | (12) | (13) | (14) | (15) | (16) | (17) | (18) | (19) | (20) | (21) | (22) | (23) | (24) | (25) | (26) | (27)

summary: I basically took Isayama’s work, forced it into a romance story, and made Erwin the love interest. Commander meets cadet and they fall in love (not instantly though)

notes: very berry canonverse (but some events were modified to fit my narrative), wasn’t intended to be this long, but it all is in the details right?

content warnings: smut where it fits (or where I make it fit. Also, reader is NOT underage, so likewise, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, please.) slow burn (I really mean it. I’m not olympic diving into any form of smut for the first chapters.) no angst. I dislike angst. I would never. I could never. (Although angst can be somewhat subjective so take it with a grain of salt?)

wc: 3.1k

You opened your eyes slowly, the gentle glow of the nearby fireplace making your eyelids feel significantly heavier, and leading you to wonder if you had woken up too early. You tried to find the answer in a nearby window, but it didn’t tell you much, as the sky was an ambiguous, dark shade of blue.

“Morning.” Never mind. The answer came to you in the form of a pleasant, raspy voice that also explained why the window you had been staring at didn’t look like the one you were used to wake up to.

“Morning.” You replied, the hoarseness present in your voice contrasting the soft smile you were sending his way, as well as the gentle peck you planted on his lips. “How are you feeling?”

“Better than I was three weeks ago.”

“Good.” You cupped his face with both hands, unable to erase the smile from your face as your thumb lovingly stroke his bottom lip. It had been a tough month, but his arm had finally healed. Almost. “The doctor said you can go back to work next week.” You meant officially, because he had been sneaking into his office late at night. You knew because things on his desk had mysteriously started to shift positions during the night. And you suddenly wondered if this had been one of those times as well. Had he even gotten any sleep at all?

“Since when are you awake? It’s still so early.” You glanced at the window. There wasn’t even the slightest tinge of orange, or pink, or even light blue in the sky.

“Not long ago.” He replied, and you found yourself wondering if you could actually believe his words. But you didn’t entertain that thought for long, his tousled bed hair was way too distracting. It was artfully messy; chaotic in the most endearing of ways. And it made you think of how rare this sight was. Almost as if the well-groomed 13th Commander of the Survey Corps was a completely different person from the one you had beside you right now. And those long, golden strands that were falling on his face, as well as the way they framed those hypnotizing blue eyes you were staring into… it all made you think about how much you wanted to see him like this more often, about how much you would like to wake up next to him more often. Would the rest of your life be too much to ask?

“Did you know sometimes you talk in your sleep?” He suddenly asked.

“I didn’t. Do I? I hope I didn’t say anything inappropriate.” You wouldn’t be surprised if you did. But in all honesty, who could blame you for that? Because even right now, in full possession of your faculties, you were finding it significantly difficult not to react in a very unladylike way at the sight of that broad, well-muscled, and most noticeably, very shirtless chest you had woken up to.

You studied the way the fireplace flames delineated his features, and decided to follow them as they traced his defined jawline, before gliding down his bare chest, lushly covered with light-brown hair. You then contemplated the intricate shapes they drew on his tight abdominal muscles, before parting ways a little below his navel, where you found yourself wanting to follow that trail of thick hair that continued way beyond the waist band of his pants. And you saw nothing stopping you, so why would you get in your own way?

Feeling your heart wake up inside your chest, and anticipation, between your legs, you climbed on his lap, straddling him before even explaining yourself.

“You can’t just sit there, look like that and pretend I won’t ask for morning sex.” You said, and without wasting a second, sneaked a hand into his lose pants, holding him firmly. The doctor hadn’t mentioned anything about abstaining from strenuous activities during his last visit.

“I never pretended such a thing.” A complicit smile decorated his lips, as they released a pleased hum at your touch. And you smiled too, feeling him harden against your fingers.

“So what? You were just sitting there waiting for me to wake up?” He nodded, and his eyelids, heavy with pleasure, were threatening to fall shut. “What a gentleman.” You leaned forward, taking his lips in a slow, decadent kiss, the type that you had learned you both enjoyed.

It was as if your tongues were dancing a waltz they were already very familiar with. And, if the hums he was chanting against your lips were anything to go by, it would be safe to assume your hand wasn’t performing so bad for its first time pleasuring him. Your fingers were diligently learning about his personal preferences, about the way he liked to be touched.

“However.” You interrupted a couple of strokes later, satisfied with the way he was now standing proudly, menacingly poking the fabric of his cotton pants. “I’m not going to pretend I can take something that size without some sort of preparation first.” You smirked before climbing back down and sitting on an empty space in front of him. Then, spreading your legs wide, you invited his eyes under the skirt of your nightdress.

He watched you attentively, lips slightly parted and eyes having a hard time choosing between your face and your panties. But, determined to help him decide, you slipped off your underwear, clearing any doubts about where his attention should be going towards.

Then, scanning his face as if reading an instruction manual, you brought your hand between your legs, where you started to stroke your folds gently, running your fingertips up and down your drenched slit.

“I’m so wet for you, Commander.” You could tell by the look on his face that, in his mind, he was already doing all sorts of things to you. And you had to admit that even if he wasn’t touching any part of your body, his eyes on you, completely devouring your pussy, were enough stimuli. “Look how wet you got me already.” You said, taking your glistening fingers to your lips and completely stuffing your mouth, just like your dripping hole dreamed to be in that very moment. “Commander, I can’t wait to feel you inside me again.” You licked your forefinger slowly, eyes closed and brow furrowed as you imagined it was him instead. Meanwhile, your other hand delicately caressed your slick folds, soaked with both arousal and anticipation. “Commander, please. I need you inside me.”

“I think you need to stretch it more first.” He said, mouth hanging slightly open, and eyes held captive between your legs.

“Like this, Commander?” To your own ears, you suddenly started sounding compliant and even submissive. Maybe it was your words or the tone of your voice. You didn’t know. But, at this point, you actually didn’t know anything. Just that it all felt so good. It was delicious, to touch yourself in front of him, with your legs wide apart, your head thrown all the way back, and your eyes closed, as if asking him to guide you.

“Just like that. Good girl.” His husky, deep voice was already a compliment in and on itself, and inspired your hand to start working harder, causing your movements to grow more and more violent, and your moans, louder with each desperate rub of your fingers on your clit.

“You don’t know how much I wish you were the one touching me, Commander.” You confessed, pushing your middle finger inside; and even though he seemed to be nothing but a mere spectator, you had no doubt that he was the one controlling you, because there was no way your own brain could. It was totally out of it, too overwhelmed by the sensations that your fingertips were so assiduously creating inside, and as a result, you were barely able to speak or think beyond the lewd sounds escaping from between both your lips and your legs.

And, truth be told, your own touch didn’t even feel that good. It was the thought of him watching you the one arousing you. It was the fact that you were touching yourself in front of him, on his bed, your juices dripping down your slit and soaking his bedsheets.

“So tight.” He said, his voice almost a growl. “You have the tightest little hole.” You couldn’t help but moan loudly at his words, his compliment reaching your ears and caressing them like the softest of velvets.

“Can I take you now, Commander?”

“Didn’t you hear what I said? I don’t want to hurt you, princess.” You had in fact heard him, but it’s just that, it was such a lonely place without his dick. “You’re still so tight. Take your sweet time.”

You listened and obeyed, adding a second finger to join your lonely digit, as it slid in and out of you. You knew this was as ready as you would get, and you suspected he did too. He most probably knew, and just wanted to watch you pleasure yourself. But, who were you to refuse your Commander’s orders?

“Just like that.” You felt like he was whispering straight into your ear. “You have no idea how beautiful you look right now. I can’t wait to be inside you.”

“You don’t have to wait.” You reminded him, in case the ungodly wet sounds filling the room, as your fingers desperately slid in and out of you, weren’t enough indication. “Do you want me to come for you now, Commander? Because I’m so close right now.” You released a louder and even needier moan. “I- I’m so c-close.”

You felt your muscles tensing, gearing up for the delicious orgasm you had created together. But that was before he yanked your hand away, abruptly pulling your fingers out of your clenching hole.

“I guess that means I’m ready for you.” You concluded, eyes smirking mischievously as you let him guide you to his lap, where you pulled down his pants in one swift, desperate motion; just enough so his massive cock could spring out free.

“Goodness.” You groaned, unable to keep your brow from furrowing in desperation, admiring that perfect curve, as well as that thick, glistening tip, and especially that deliciously prominent vein that you suddenly felt like tracing with your tongue. “Can I take it now? Please.” You had never heard yourself sound so whiny and needy, and you would have felt embarrassed, you really would have. If you cared, if you weren’t that wet, and if his dick wasn’t that beautiful. “Please fill me up now, Commander.”

Please fuck me now.

“Anything for my princess.” You couldn’t stop the sudden urge to kiss him. He was so sweet, so gentle. Always so kind… generous… and giving. Even letting you sink into his perfect dick.

As your lips tasted his, you positioned yourself, one hand grabbing his hard erection and aligning it with your entrance. Then, you pulled away so you could stare directly into each other’s eyes as you became one for the second time.

And then, you let it happen.

You let yourself fall onto his generous cock slowly, your mouth opening wider the lower you sank. And so did his. The way his brow furrowed harder the deeper he got, told you that he too had forgotten how good it felt.

“You’re so damn handsome. I think I can come just from that look on your face alone.” You said, almost out of breath.

He chuckled, eyebrows still locked in a frown, as he helped you out of your silky nightdress. And after that, when you were completely bare in front of him, and him fully buried inside you, it didn’t take long for your breasts to start bouncing up and down, and your moans to grow louder and louder, as you started to fall into an addictive rhythm. And, as the smell of sex infused the cold morning air, you found yourself wishing this would never stop.

“Goodness, I could spend all day inside you.” He grunted, keeping a firm grip on your ass.

Good, because you could spend all day riding him.

“Fuck, Commander I’m-”

“Just call me Erwin.”

“Erwin. You feel so good. You’re already making me come.” His name on your tongue felt just as good as he did inside you. It felt so right that for a second you thought you were going to cry, but maybe it was just due to the big intrusion now present between your legs. “Oh fuck!” You didn’t remember your first time together feeling like this. “Yes, just like that. You’re so-” There was a new element to this. “Big.” And maybe it was the euphoria, or the fact that your thoughts were all over the place, jumping around your head the same way your breasts were in front of him. “Erwin, you’re going to make me come.” Or maybe it was his name on your lips, and the fact that you were now allowed to use it at will. But something about the moment reminded you of the conversation you had with Hitch not so long ago; more specifically, about a certain question you had failed to provide an answer for. And, while you still didn’t know how to respond, you knew a few other things.

You knew that you really wanted to move to a secluded cabin in the woods with him, somewhere quiet, where you had nothing but the trees for company, where you heard nothing but the occasional birdsong sailing in the breeze, where your day changed directions according to the weather… somewhere you could fuck like this all day, every day.

“Fuck! I think I’m in love with your dick. I love it so much.”

“That’s it?” He asked, nails buried in the flesh of your ass, the same way yours were in the tight muscles of his shoulders. And his lips, now sucking at the tender skin of your breast, were making you delirious.

“No, you too! I’m in love with you too.” The moment those words left your mouth, his lips left your skin. And you noticed, of course you did. Of course you would notice the absence of his tongue on your nipple. You threw a quick glance his way to see what was wrong, but all you saw was his deep blue eyes staring back at yours.

At any other moment, you would have tried to read him, you would have tried to guess what was going on inside his head, but now, you were too busy riding his cock to pay any mind. Him inside you, hitting that one spot over and over, was way too distracting. So you just closed your eyes, head thrown back, your breasts bouncing violently now that his lips weren’t there to support them. “I love you, Commander.” You repeated, completely forgetting you were supposed to use his name now. “So fucking much it hurts.”

You were aware of what you said. At any other point in time, you would have been crushed by the weight of those words, but he was so big and so was the pleasure, and there was no space to entertain any other thoughts. So, with the help of his strong hand on your ass, you just kept riding him.

You buried your head in the crook of his neck, enjoying the sensations he was so generously providing, or rather filling you up with. The scent of his skin reminded you of a fresh, aromatic bubble bath, after a long day. It was hard to put into words. He smelled so sweet. So sweet it was almost tangible, like the spun sugar your parents used to buy for you in the town fair all those years ago.

“I’m so close.” You nodded eagerly at his announcement, and although sudden, the words spoken in that deep, smoky voice of his didn’t interrupt the stream of sensations you were currently drowning in. If anything, they contributed to the fireworks exploding all over your skin, because you were already salivating at the thought of his warm, sweet cream filling you up. You would take it all. Gladly. It was like the dessert you had eaten the whole meal for. That one piece of cake you would enjoy even if you were already impossibly stuffed. Because it would be the only thing that could make this moment even more perfect, and this pleasure even more intense.

“Did you hear what I said, princess?” He repeated.

“Yes, yes, come inside me.” You said without hesitation. “Please. I need you to finish inside me. Comman- Erwin, please.” You kept moving your hips, slowly closing the distance between the present moment and his release.

“We can’t. You know that.”

“I don’t care. Just come inside me, Erwin. I want it. Please.”

I need it.

You felt his hand trying to fight against the rest of his body, against his desires, as it tried to lift you up so he could pull himself out. But you refused to cooperate, deciding to maintain the rhythm of your hips instead.

But then in one firm, desperate movement he pulled himself out, just seconds before his seed spilled all over your belly. You looked at him as he gave himself some final strokes, with your mouth slightly open, both in hunger and in disbelief. All your hard work, the release you had so diligently created for him, going to waste like that, and his hand being the one getting to finish the job you had seen through with such perseverance. You couldn’t help but feel it was unfair, like accidentally dropping the cake you had spent all afternoon baking.

You stared in silent, and you were sure he could see the disappointment in your eyes.

“I won’t apologize. You know it’s too dangerous.” He said, and you reluctantly let him pull you to his chest.

You did know. You were very logical, in fact. So you understood. What you didn’t understand, however, was why you were struggling to explain such a simple biological fact to yourself.

The rhythmic beating of his heart against your ear was persuading you into falling asleep again. And so was the warmth of his chest. And maybe you would have, if your mind hadn’t decided to wake up in that exact moment, actively creating thoughts you weren’t particularly excited about entertaining. But now that the high was gone and all was said and done, your busy head was the only one left to keep you company for the rest of the day; which by the way, would be starting soon, because somewhere between you saying some big words and him giving you an unclear response, the bubble had bursted, and the sky had turned a mellow shade of yellow.

next chapter

taglist: @elnyrae @mchlist @angelaevangelion @depitaangeline @ynackerman9499 @afatalheat @pumpkin-toffee @velouria17 @gassytritis @goddessinsweats @nube55 @jeanboyjean @crazychaoticizzy @braunsbabe

72 notes · View notes

finnsbubblegum · 2 years ago

Text

Best First Date I’ve Ever Had (Joel Miller X Reader)

Pairing: no-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: 18+, fluff, sweet joel, domestic joel, rom-com, smut

Summary (Series): reader as Joel’s neighbor. Joel’s wife left him so Joel asked his neighbor for help in babysitting Sarah.

Summary: Pov: You had an unforgettable first date with Joel Miller.

Words count: 2.7k

A/N: I’m trying to make this as a rom-com, hope you like my new series! This is part 10 of Where It All Starts. But it can also be read as a standalone. I'm so grateful for all of you! Thank you for your comments, reblogs, and likes ❤️ There are still more chapters for this series so stay tuned! Love you!

It’s been a while since I wrote smut. I hope you like it. Lol.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

“So when can I take you out for a date?” Joel asked you on a date as he chewed his dinner.

“Aren’t we always on a date?” You mumbled as you munched.

“Sarah’s always third wheeling.” He directed his eyes to his baby daughter.

“Oh..” You nodded.

What Joel meant was a real date with only the two of you. He loved spending time when there were the three of you. But he wanted to have a moment when he felt like there were only you and him in this world.

“I guess we’ll have to find a babysitter then?” You raised your eyebrows.

“Can you ask Flo?” He only trusted Flo to babysit his daughter.

“Ask her if she’s free on Friday night?” Joel added.

“I’ll ask her tomorrow.” You nodded.

The next day at the cafe, you asked Flo to babysit Sarah and she said yes. Flo was always willing to help you and she loved babies.

It was finally Friday and it was the day of your first real date with Joel since you dated him. You dressed up for him and he dressed up for you. Even though both of you had seen each other's morning faces, the two of you wanted to look good for each other. It was a special day and it was your first date after all.

You tidied your hair one more time and put on more lipstick before you knocked on Joel’s door. You inhaled and exhaled. Then you knocked on his door.

“Hi.” You waved your hand nervously.

“Hi-you-uh-” Joel was tongue tied.

You looked so beautiful and he ran out of words. His hand was still resting on the door, jaw dropped and froze in front of you. You raised your eyebrows and let out a chuckle.

“Sorry, I-uh-You look absolutely gorgeous.” His cheeks redden.

“Thank you, Joel. You look handsome, too.” You kissed his cheeks and it made his cheeks red even more.

“So, Flo isn’t here yet?” You walked in the house.

“Yep.” Joel answered as you heard a knock.

“That must be her.” You pointed at the door.

Joel went to open the door for Flo.

"Hi, am I late?" Flo was panting as she walked inside the house.

"Only 5 minutes. That's okay." Joel took her jacket and hung it to the coat hanger.

"Thank God. Where is she?" Flo washed her hand on the sink.

"She's sleeping in her room." You answered her.

"Okay. I got this. Don't worry. You two enjoy your date." Flo dried her hand with a towel.

"Go on." She shoo-ed the two of you.

"Okay. Call me if you need anything." You turned your head to her as you walked to the door.

"I will." Flo opened the door.

"Have fun. You know what I mean." Flo raised her eyebrows up and down as she whispered to your ear.

You gasped and slapped her upper arm.

"Ouch." She rubbed her upper arm.

"What's wrong?" Joel turned to look at you and Flo.

"Nothing. Come on, Joel. Let's go." You held his hand and walked to the car.

"Have a great night, you two!" Flo waved her hand goodbye from the porch.

At the restaurant

"Thank you." You sat as Joel pulled the chair for you.

"Okay. What do you want to eat?" Joel read the menu.

"I think I'll get the chef's menu." You closed the menu book.

"Okay." Joel closed the menu book on his hand too.

Joel and you both ordered the chef's menu for the night. It was a good choice. You liked the meal. It was delicious.

"Hmm. It's really delicious." You chuckled.

"Yeah, this is amazing." Joel nodded as he chewed.

"Oh!" You gasped as you dropped your fork to the floor.

"Nuh-uh. I'll get you new ones." Joel stopped you from reaching down the table to get your fork back.

"Excuse me, Miss." Joel raised his hand to get the server's attention.

One of the waitresses saw Joel and walked towards your table.

"What can I help you, sir?" The waitress asked.

"Can we get a fork, please?" Joel asked the waitress.

"Yes, of course." The waitress went to get you a new clean fork and brought it to your table.

"Thank you." You and Joel said it at the same time.

The dinner went amazing. You enjoyed the food, the vibe, and the place that Joel had reserved for your first date was beautiful. You appreciated him for choosing a beautiful restaurant. You offered to pay but he insisted that he paid for the dinner. Joel was a gentleman and he said "a gentleman pays on the first date.".

"Wanna take a walk?" Joel offered to take a walk as he opened the door for you.

"Yeah, I'm full. A walk sounds good." You rested your hand on your tummy.

You walked slowly side by side with him. Then Joel suddenly put his hand on your left upper arm, pushing you gently to the right so he could walk on the outside of the sidewalk. You felt butterflies in your stomach at his chivalrous gesture. Pouting a few times, holding yourself to smile every second.

The two of you talked as you walked but then you had a quiet moment. Your heart beat faster as your hand and his hand brushed on each other's as it swung when you walked. You had the urge to hold his hand but you were too nervous to make the first move. But before you knew it, Joel's hand was already on yours. Your fingers and his were now intertwined. You looked down and smiled. You didn't want Joel to see you blushing. Little did you know, he was blushing too. The two of you just walked on the pavement enjoying the night breeze under the street lights. No conversations, just fingers intertwined, swinging your hand, and smiling while looking in the opposite direction to hide your butterflies.

“I remember you told me you love ice cream.” Joel suddenly started a conversation and looked at you.

“Yeah, I love ice cream.” You smiled because he remembered what you liked.

“I know a good place around here. Want some?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Of course. I always have room for ice cream.” You chuckled. Joel chuckled.

You chose chocolate ice cream just like you always did. Your love towards chocolate was so big that you never chose any flavor beside chocolate. And Joel remembered that. The two of you spent an hour at the ice cream place and talked again. Even though you met Joel every day, there were always things to talk about. The connection between the two of you was so strong that you had never run out of topics and neither did Joel.

“Is this the last stop?” You asked Joel as you walked near to the car to open the door.

Joel smiled then he took your hand, spun you, and pulled you closer to him. You chuckled as you bumped into his chest.

“One more.” He kissed your forehead.

Then he let you go and opened the car door for you.

“Where are we going?” You put on your seatbelt.

“It’s a surprise.” He started the car.

“Okay, Mr. Miller. I trust you.”

After a few minutes of driving, you recognized the streets. You guessed he was bringing you to that hill with the beautiful view again.

“Joel Miller’s favorite place.” You smiled and shook your head.

“It is. You told me you’re in love with me at this place. How can I not like this place?” He chuckled.

“Uh-huh.” You nodded.

“Do you wanna go outside?” Joel took off his seatbelt, his hand on the car handle, ready to go out.

“Let’s just stay here for a while.” You held his wrist.

“Okay.” He let go of the car handle.

You closed your eyes, rested your head on the headrest, and took a deep breath in and out.

“I’m so happy, Joel. Thank you.”

“Me too. It’s all because of you. So, thank you.” He took your hand and rested it on his thigh.

“It’s because of you, too.” You opened your eyes and faced him.

Joel and you looked at each other with admiration, affection and love. Joel leaned in closer and so did you. Both of you smiled before you shared a deep kiss with him.

“You taste so sweet.” He sneaked in a compliment in between the kisses.

“It must be the ice cream.” You smiled and continued the kiss.

You were caught in the moment. And you started unbuttoning his shirt as you kissed him because you were so madly in love with him.

“Are you sure?” Joel stopped your hands from unbuttoning his shirt.

“Uh-huh. Isn’t this why you brought me here?” You smirked.

“What do you mean?” He didn’t catch up.

“I remember the last time we were here, you told me this “We’re not *peck* done yet.”.” You did the same thing he did to you the last time he brought you to the place for the first time.

“When did I do that?” He acted dumb.

“Don’t act like you forgot about it. I know you’re lying.” You booped his nose with your index finger and he blinked.

Joel chuckled in embarrassment. He didn’t mean to have sex with you by bringing you to the hill. But if you wanted to, of course he couldn’t refuse your offer. You were so beautiful and he had imagined a million times making love to you.

“Make love to me, Joel.” You whispered to his ear.

Joel got shivers from your whispering voice. Then he dragged your head closer to his. Kissing you so passionately like he was hungry to eat your lips. You kissed him back while your hands moved to unbutton his shirt. He threw his shirt to the back seat after you were done unbuttoning him. And you crawled to him on the driver’s seat. He helped lift you to sit on his lap facing him.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waitin’ for this. Watchin’ you takin’ care of my daughter. Actin’ like her real mom. Actin’ like my wife under my roof. I couldn’t wait to make you feel good.” Joel cupped your cheeks.

“Me too, Joel. Tonight is your chance.” You put your arms around his neck.

Joel continued the kiss and his hand started to move around you. Caressing you, adoring every curve your body had. He suddenly lifted your dress to your waist and snaked his hand to cup your pussy.

“Already wet for me darlin’.” He mumbled in your mouth. You chuckled.

Joel’s hand now sliding inside your panties to find your clit and started rubbing it in circles. Slowly and passionately while he was still kissing you. You gasped at his touch on your sensitive spot.

“Do you like it slow or fast, baby?” Joel asked while his fingers were still inside your wet panties.

“Fast.” You answered while panting.

Joel listened to you and did what you liked. He wanted to make you feel good. Just like he had told you, he had been waiting for this moment for a long time. This was his chance. After he started to find his pace and a few moves, you felt you were reaching your orgasm. You moaned in his mouth and he swallowed it. Your fingers gripped the headrest behind his head and squeezed your eyes shut. You pulled away from his lips and rested your head beside his while you panted. You caught your breath and kissed his hairy jaw. Then you looked through his eyes and took his hand.

“Touch me.” You brought his hand to your breast and he cupped it.

The two of you kissed again, licking each other’s tongue and lips while his hand kneaded your breast. You were too aroused and you wanted him to touch you bare. So you pulled your dress up and took it off. You threw your dress away to the back seat while Joel helped you take off your bra and put it away.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Joel took a moment to admire your naked body before he buried his face to your chest. His hand held your breast and brought it to his mouth so he could suck your nipple. You moaned at the feeling as you put your hand behind his head and slightly pulled his hair. He moaned as he kept sucking, licking, and kissing your breast. You could feel his cock hardened under you so you started grinding on him. Feeling his hard cock under his jeans. He groaned at your tease.

“Let me ride you, Joel.”

You begged him as you took off your wet panties hurriedly while he undid his belt. You helped him pull his pants down and free his cock. Your jaw dropped when you looked down to see his cock poking out under you. He smirked and you cupped his jaw to kiss him. His hand moved his cock to your folds gathering your juices before he slowly slid himself inside you. You gasped as he stretched you wide.

“Fuck, baby. You’re so tight.” He buried his face on your shoulder.

You started to move your hips grinding on top of him with his cock inside you. Both of you moaned, feeling each other skin to skin. You rode him moving your hips in circles feeling him touching every inch of your walls.

“That feels so good.” You whispered in his ear again.

Joel moaned at your voice. He loved every part of you including your voice. So you were giving him an ear orgasm by whispering to him. Of course you didn’t know about that, but you felt like you hit the jackpot when you realized he enjoyed listening to your whispers. Joel wanted to make you feel good and you wanted to make him feel good too. You two loved each other so much.

You wanted more so you braced yourself holding on to the shoulder of the seat and started to bounce. Joel groaned at your sudden movement. He rested his hand on your waist adoring your bouncing tits. You leaned in closer to kiss him while you still bounced on him. Then he started to thrust into you too. The two of you moaned feeling one another but you swallowed each other’s moans. You gripped his hair and bounced faster.

“Fuck baby. I’m close.” Joel groaned.

“Cum inside me. It’s okay. I’m on birth control.”

“Fuck!” You kept bouncing on him and you felt close too.

You clenched your fist burying your nails on the headrest behind him. And Joel groaned, releasing his seed inside you painting your walls. Then he buried his face on your chest and you rested your chin on his head.

“You’re amazing.” Joel mumbled on your chest and kissed it before he looked at you.

“You’re amazing, too.” You caressed his hair.

“What time is it?” You remembered you promised Flo you would be back before midnight.

“2 am.” Joel looked at his watch.

“Shit.” You cursed as you pulled back and bumped to the steering wheel.

*car honked*

You let out a little scream as it startled you.

“Sorry.” You shrugged.

“Don’t worry. No one’s here.” Joel giggled at your clumsy actions.

“We need to go back.” You chuckled.

Joel chuckled as you moved back to the passenger seat. He saw his seed dripping out from you. Then he took some tissues and leaned in to clean your inner thigh.

“You made a mess.” You chuckled as he cleaned you.

“I did.” He chuckled and gave you a peck on the lips.

Then he extended his hand to the backseat to grab his shirt and yours.

“Here.” He passed you your clothes.

“Thank you.” You put on your clothes and tidied your hair.

After the two of you finished putting all of your clothes, Joel drove home.

“Thank you for tonight. You planned it so perfectly. I really appreciate it.” You rested your head on the head rest while facing him.

“Glad you enjoyed it because I did.” Joel took your hand and kissed it.

“This is the best first date I’ve ever had. I love you, Joel.” You kissed his hand back.

To be continued…

Taglist:

@lovelyygirl8 @skysmiller @moonlightdivine @crocodiile @angie2274 @pulchritudinousrogers @peqchsoup @msecho19 @happinessinthebeing @nyotamalfoy @nakedmoondiaries @dzaga890 @pa1g3-t0mm0 @prettysbliss @wanniiieeee @one-sweet-gubler @x-ap0llo-x @feministfanboi @ordinarylokix @afterglowsb-tch13 @padgraysonssram8re @tomorrowseverything @hummusxx @iranispunk @mrsyixingunicorn10 @likeanimagepassingby2 @mediocrewallflow3r @pedr0swh0r3 @mxtokko @dorck26 @cascactus28 @cheyxfu @stupidthoughtsinwriting @undermoonlightwalk @bigmoodyjoody @humanbug @sarahhxx03 @krisviciousx @quixscentsposts @dgct2 @dgraysonss @heybabyshae @fluffyspaceprincess @toottmblr @avengersfan25 @xixxala @dianaffddz @onzayhe @violetwitchmcu @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @kelh27

579 notes · View notes

fiveisnumber1 · 1 year ago

Text

Timeless - Five Hargreeves X Reader

Main story parts:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36

A/N: I know it's taken some time, but this chapter is finally here! Sorry for taking so long to update with a main chapter, two of my grandparents died, I had to quit my job because they kept leading me on about promoting me to full-time, and I had some really bad burnout from it all. I'm going to try my best to upload more frequently, but my chapters run pretty long so they still will take some time, but hopefully nothing crazy happens that pulls me away from this for that long again. I worked really hard to get this chapter done by the Hargreeves' birthday so I hope it's good! Thanks for understanding and I hope you enjoy! <3

______________________________________________________________

Pt 37 - Facing Your Mortality With Friends And Other Ways To Cope With The Inevitable

With a flash of bright blue, the sharp chill of cold wind whipped across Five and Lila as they arrived at their destination. Five looked around as frustration filled his system. All that the eye could see was a dark, snowy landscape. They botched it. They fucking botched it. And now he was stuck in a snowy wasteland with the last person he'd want to be around with no answers and a slim chance of getting back.

"Oh, brilliant idea, Lila!" Five remarked sarcastically, "Welcome to the Ice Age!"

Why? Why did he always have to jump back into some type of chaos when all he wanted was peace? He looked around before him for any sign that could give him an idea or clue on what to do. But all there was, was snow.

"Shut up and just look." Lila retorted

Five turned, finally looking behind him as he saw the dark, looming shape of a building across the snowy field.

"The Commission." He said under his breath "Shit."

With the briefcase still in his hand, Five began to walk as quickly as he could through the thick snow toward the building. Lila followed closely behind wrapping her jacket around her tighter to stave off the cold as she wondered how Five was not feeling the chill. The wind and snow were unrelenting as the pair arrived at what seemed to be the ruins of the Commission building. Frustration faded as concern now took over Five's brain. There were no lights, no sound, and no sign of life. The front door was broken in allowing Five to quickly step into the building, his eyes going wide as he saw the rubble and decay inside the main foyer. What happened here?

Walking in after him, Lila looked around at the remnants of what was once a very familiar building for her. Broken tile and dirt covered the floor and ruined furniture was scattered about the place as she glanced around the building's entrance.

"Holy shit. I was just here. How long was I bloody gone?" Lila asked aloud

"It seems the grandfather paradox is affecting everything." Five replied placing the briefcase on the ground "Even places out of time."

"Is that possible?" Lila questioned

"I stopped tracking what was possible a long time ago." Five commented back

As Five looked around once more, he nervously fiddled with the watch on his wrist. The one that you had gifted to him. He wondered where you were since he wasn't able to find you before leaving. He wondered what you were doing and if you were alright. He hoped that another wave hadn't hit and that you had someone around to take care of you while he was gone like Klaus or maybe Viktor since Diego seemed not to care since Stan showed up. Being here was leaving him with more questions than answers and he wanted nothing more than to get back to you as soon as possible. Seeing Lila move forward into the building, Five picked up the briefcase and began to follow her. But then the sound of something breaking could be heard as ceiling tile began to fall down from above. Both Five and Lila jumped back in time so as to not get hit, but this building felt more unsafe to be in at the moment. They needed to find answers and they needed to go.

"We better get moving." Five said as he walked toward the foyer staircase "I'll check the Infinite Switchboard."

"And I'll check Herb's office." Lila responded before commenting "Little cockroach would survive anything."

With the briefcase in hand, Five turned away from Lila and began to make his way up the steps heading toward the Infinite Switchboard when from down below he could hear as Lila called out,

"Bye."

"See ya." He replied curtly

"Miss you." Lila mentioned

While she couldn't see it as he was already too high on the staircase Five gave her a confused side-eye as he awkwardly stated,

"That's weird."

However, no response was returned to his comment and all that could be heard was the sound of her footsteps walking away. With a shrug of his shoulders, Five continued his journey to the switchboard. He had walked these halls plenty of times before but they were never this empty. There was always some type of hustle and bustle of the hundreds of workers that were employed here. Back then he hated it because he couldn't stand this place, what it stood for, or the power they held over him while he bided his time, but now it just felt eerie being so empty. The sounds of his footsteps echoed in the halls as he approached the room he was looking for. Entering the broken doorway, the lights in the room and on the machines were off and the windows on either side of the room were shattered into pieces. The cold wind and snow fell in from the outside as Five placed the briefcase down once more. Leaning over the switchboard he fiddled with a few of the knobs and dials managing to get one of the screens to illuminate.

"Okay. Okay. That's good." Five said to himself

It wasn't much, but it was a start. Tuning the large dial on the control panel a fuzzy image of Herb came into view and with a little more tuning the image became clear as a recording began to play.

"There's been a rip in the space-time continuum. It's swallowing everything." Herb explained, an urgent panic lacing his tone "Oh, my sweet Dot, Iris, Josh from accounting, they're all gone. I've tried everything! I don't know what else to do. The timeline is collapsing."

As Five watched the video, each word Herb spoke was more concerning than the last. The timeline itself wasn't just facing some unusual flux it was completely collapsing in on itself. The sounds of screaming could be heard in the background of the recording as Herb looked away for a moment before looking back. With a solemn face, he spoke his last words,

"This is... the end."

And as a flash of light came across the screen all that could be heard was the sound of Herb's painful screams before the switchboard screen went completely back. Five stood up from leaning over the board, a slight look of sadness could be seen in his reflection on one of the switchboard TV screens. As he placed his hands in his pockets, he took a moment to reflect on what he had just seen. The room was quiet but then from behind him he could hear Lila's voice call out,

"I could kill for some scrambled eggs right now."

"This is bigger than the timeline, Lila." Five said flatly

"What's bigger than the timeline?" She asked

"The entire universe." Five stated seriously turning to look at her, "The missing dogs, people... It's the opposite of the big bang. Instead of the universe expanding, it's now collapsing in on itself."

"Like a prolapsing rectum," Lila replied

Five blinked his eyes a few times both perplexed and disgusted by her statement. Technically, she wasn't wrong but what an unusual connection to make. Slightly disturbed, Five replied

"That's a weird analogy, but yeah."

"Here, then. This might give us some answers." Lila mentioned

Lifting up an old green book, Lila presented it to Five for him to look at. Taking the book from her, Five wiped off a thin layer of dust before reading the title on the cover,

"The master handbook."

"The one and only!" Lila commented as she sat on a nearby control panel

Flipping through the pages Five looked for anything that could be of use to the situation they were in. Things disappearing, waves of energy, grandfather paradox, really anything that could point them in the right direction. He quickly glanced at the words as they flew by on the pages only stopping to backtrack when he saw the bold letters spelling out EMERGENCY PROTOCOL. Flipping back to that page he scanned through finding something that seemed reasonably useful.

"Here we are. Okay, protocol." Five said as he began to read "In the unlikely case of the grandfather paradox, the founder and any essential personnel should-"

As he read Lila jumped up from her seat on a control panel quickly moving to his side as she leaned over the book. With a pencil in her hand, she pointed to the rest of the sentence finishing,

"...be immediately remanded to the operations bunker."

The two of them paused as they thought over the words they had just read. The master handbook was never really something of use to them because they were never upper-level enough to access it. They had both heard it referenced in passing before but it wasn't until now that they were actually looking at it. But even if the emergency protocol was giving them a helpful clue into what to do now, there were now even more questions to be had.

"The founder. What founder?" Lila asked

"I don't know." Five replied

As they stood in silence for a moment, once more part of the ceiling came crashing down. Placing a hand on her shoulder Five pushed Lila back as he took a step back himself. This place was falling apart by the minute and the last thing he needed was to be crushed under rubble. Again. He needed to find this founder, get his answers and get out of this decrepit structure before it came down on him before he could get back to you.

"We need to find that bunker..." Five stated

"ASAP." Five and Lila said in unison

"Jinx! A-B-C-1-2-3, personal padlock!" Lila exclaimed

Rolling his eyes, Five picked up the briefcase with one hand as he started to walk out of the room, now determined to find the bunker mentioned in the book. Lila following closely behind with a childish grin on her face at 'blocking' him from speaking. Trying to remind her of the seriousness of this investigation Five began to protest,

"Can you not-"

"You can't speak!" Lila shouted once more

Five let out an annoyed huff as he rolled his eyes once more. Whatever. The bunker is what mattered and that is what his goal was now. He only hoped that whatever you were doing was better than his situation.

And it was. You were surrounded by a peaceful blackness. Wherever you were right now, it was comfortable, you were cozy. The quiet of the dark void was soothing. This place, it was loving, it was safe. If it was possible, you would stay here forever surrounded by the comforting stillness of it all. However, that was not the case as a fit of shouting broke through your peaceful void. Quickly your eyes opened, as a voice yelled something but you couldn't quite make out the words.

You looked around at your surroundings. You were in Kenny's basement, laying across the couch. Sitting up you got a better lay of the land as you noticed Dean was sat upright fast asleep leaning against the front of the couch, his bow wrapped in his arms as if he was guarding you. Viktoria was in the corner of the room laying on the floor as she used her viola case as a pillow and a throw rug as a blanket. And then there was Bren, sprawled facedown and shirtless under the air hockey table. There was something written on his back but you could not tell what is said from where you were.

As the yelling from upstairs continued you could see the rest of your friends begin to groggily wake up. You all looked around at each other, sleep still in your eyes when words finally rang clear as Kenny shouted from upstairs,

"Are you guys shitting me?!"

"Well, this is sure to be interesting," Dean commented placing his bow down on the ground next to him as he stretched

"What's going on?" Bren asked groggily as he slid out from under the air hockey table

As he finally stood up, you could see ASSHOLE written across his back. You, Dean, and Viktoria all began to snicker at the sight only to be met with Bren's confused face as he turned around.

"What are you all laughing at?" He questioned

The three of you looked at each other for a moment before all of you released the laughter you were holding back. Bren looked at all of you even more confused before the shouting from upstairs pulled your attention as you all heard Kenny shout,

" Can't you two get intimate somewhere other than my bedroom!"

You stopped laughing as you all looked at each other with wide eyes. Jumping up from where she lay on the floor Viktoria ran towards the basement stairs as she called out behind her.

"Oh, I gotta know more!"

You, Dean, and Bren all looked at each other before bolting up the stairs after Viktoria and stopping on the first floor right at the bottom of the staircase leading upstairs. You all only stood there for a moment as you saw Lucas and Addison doing the walk of shame down the stairs. Their hair was both a mess, there were smudges of tinted lipgloss on Lucas' face and both of them were blushing profusely. Neither of them met your eyes as you all smirked and snickered with Dean going so far as to whistle at the pair. As they awkwardly stood off to the side away from the group Kenny came tromping down the staircase calling out,

"How dare you desecrate the sanctity of my bed chambers with your unfiltered hormones!"

You shot a look over to the pair.

"Did you guys-" You began to ask

"No! No!" Lucas exclaimed

"We were just making out!" Addison chimed in

"Pfft, making out." Kenny mocked before loudly complaining "You were eating each other's faces like wolves on a deer carcass. And in MY BED nonetheless."

"I don't get why you're so upset. You're like the resident slut of this group, shouldn't you be like pro-intimacy or something." Bren commented

"Listen while I appreciate being called the resident slut here, I don't appreciate having unwanted saliva and sweat on my pristine bamboo bedsheets." Kenny remarked back "And I'm not going to take any criticism from the guy whose back says asshole on it."

"My back says what?" Bren questioned attempting to look over his shoulder at his back

"Don't worry, he's lying," Dean interjected

Bren however was unsure of who to believe and continued to try and look at his back to see if something was written there. As he did so, Lucas piped up from the corner of the room,

"You could just have (Y/N) use her powers to remove any traces of us."

"No." You stated firmly

"Oh c'mon (Y/N)," Addison whined

You shot the pair a death glare. Something like this had happened before on a group camping trip where the pair had snuck far away from the campsite and back to the parking lot of the campground to Dean's backseat. However, unlike this case, things had escalated at that time. You were surprised Dean didn't kill them for desecrating Veronica when he found out but at his request, since you owed him a favor, you used your abilities to restore Veronica's backseat to its former state. It was gross. You couldn't look them in the eye for a good week, but it was fine because they couldn't look at you either. But from that day forward Dean implemented a new rule in his car and you implemented a new rule on what your friends can and cannot ask you to use your powers for. And this, while not as bad as that last incident, still fell under cannot.

"I did that shit once but never again." You strongly reaffirmed before looking at Kenny and stating "Kenny, stop being a baby and just wash your stupid sheets."

"Fine." Kenny grumbled, "But they owe me some type of favor."

"Yeah, that's fair." Addison replied

"Okay, deal," Lucas added "How about I start by making breakfast for everyone."

"I hope it's not a whole carton of scrambled eggs again." Viktoria quietly mentioned as Lucas walked away, "I couldn't even stand to look at eggs for like a month afterwards."

It seemed the small amount of tension that had been in the room had fully faded away as the group began to make their way toward Kenny's kitchen chattering about what you all should eat for breakfast. But as they walked ahead Dean pulled you odd to the side and asked,

"Can you help me grab something from my car?"

He sounded slightly nervous, but you had no clue why. Wanting to find out what was going on though you replied,

"Yeah, sure man."

You followed him to the front door, but as he opened it Bren asked from behind you,

"Where you guys going?" Bren asked

"Just out to the car to grab something, we'll be back." You replied

"Wait can someone please tell me if my back has something written on it?" Bren called out

But by that point, the front door was pretty much closed behind you two. It wasn't a far walk to Dean's car as it was parked in Kenny's driveway, but you could see more and more of Dean's nerves. He was rolling his shoulders back and flexing his hands whether he noticed it or not. As he stood in front of the driver's side door you could see him take a deep breath before turning to look at you. You stared at him waiting for him to say something but it seemed like nothing was coming. Trying to prompt him you inquired,

"So what do we need to grab?"

"Actually, I- um...I wanted to give you something." Dean replied softly

Your head tilted to the side as you looked at him slightly confused. You had no clue what he would want to give to you that would make him so nervous to do so. Your brother was like an open book to you just like you typically were to him so it was unusual to have him be nervous and you not know why.

"Oh?" You asked, "You do"

"Well yeah...y'know how last night I said I was going out to get food but it took a while for me to come back?" He asked back

"Yeah, I recall," You answered, "...Kind of."

You relatively recalled the night prior. There was Just Dance, karaoke, fanfiction reading, and overall fun. But things did get a little blurry with each drink you consumed. You could remember when Dean left to go get some fast food from a 24-hour diner but when he came back wasn't as clear.

"Well, it took me so long because actually, I made a bit of a side trip to get you some stuff that might help you feel a little better about everything."

You looked at him curious as to what he may have gotten you that would make you feel better but would also cause him to have such nerves. Perhaps he had somehow found Five and he was knocked out in the trunk of the car. That would make sense, but there's no way Dean would win a fight against Five. And even if he did, the minute Five came to he would just teleport out of the trunk. Besides that, you couldn't think of any grand gesture that might have him feeling this way, but you sure were willing to find out.

"So what are they?" You replied

"Oh right." Dean exclaimed as he realized he hadn't actually given you the items yet

You watched as Dean turned around and opened the driver's door to his car. He leaned over the center console and opened the glove compartment before pulling out some items. You could see the movement of him placing some of the items down on his driver's seat but you couldn't tell what they were yet since his body was blocking the view. As he turned back around though he extended a set of folders to you to take. Taking them into your hands, you smirked as you joked,

"You got me manila folders?"

"Look at the labels." He replied softly

You looked at Dean. There was a caring gentleness in his gaze and you could see saw the insistence on his face. Looking down at the labels on the folders, your smirk dropped. Your eyes slowly blinking in confusion as you read over the words again and again.

The labels had your parents' names on them.

Slowly, you looked back up at Dean and quietly asked,

"Dean what are these?"

"I wanted to get you something of your parents so I searched up articles about what happened and found out their names and the university they went to," Dean explained, "and so I may have broken in and stolen their old admissions and enrollment files."

"Their old university is like half an hour away Dean." You stated not fully believing this was real

"It's only ten minutes if you drive at 80 miles per hour." Dean replied before pointing at the folders and adding "The files have their applications including the essays, classes they were enrolled in, and their grades."

You looked down at the folders in disbelief before carefully opening them. You looked through your mother's first. Everything for her application was filled out in her beautiful cursive handwriting. She wrote so in-depth about why she wanted to major in both architecture and interior design. Why pursuing both for a future career was the best path for her. Why this school would be her perfect fit. You could almost hear her voice speak to you as you read her essay. It was familiar and comforting. And then there was your father's application. Besides the portions where things had to be written out, everything else was typed. You knew it was because his handwriting was just barely above chicken scratch, but when you looked over his essay you could see his sunny passion for the structural engineering work he wanted to do shine through. The warmth that your father exuded was just bursting off the page. You then flipped through the folders to look at their classes and enrollment profiles. Your dad of course had more courses listed as he was a year above your mom, but your mom was maxing out her credit limits every semester taking double what your dad would. And they were both exceptional students earning high marks in all their classes. How they managed all this work plus extracurriculars was astounding. Although you had managed to do the same for years so perhaps your family just had a knack for it. You lingered on the pages, your fingertips gliding over the words as if you were reaching out and feeling your parents for the first time in years.

"Your parents were really smart." Dean commented as he saw you look over their grades "Just like you."

You looked back up at Dean with tears beginning to form in your eyes. This was real. These were your parents. A part of them at least.

"Dean- I-" You tried to speak but you struggled to find the right words "This is incredible."

"Actually there's more," Dean responded,

"More?" You questioned

Although it had the inflection of a question, it was less of one and more so a request. A request for anything else he had. EVERYTHING else he had. You wanted it all. You wanted to see it, to read it, to feel it. You wanted to have and hold whatever tangible piece of your parents you could.

"Yeah." He answered, "As awful as your parents' deaths were they kind of got memorialized at the school and so I was able to take these."

You saw as Dean turned around once more and picked up the items he had put on the driver's seat. Turning back toward you he held out two things for you to take which you slowly reached out and took from him. In one hand there was a framed photo of your dad with a wide smile standing in front of the door to his old philanthropy fraternity house and in the other you held the Phi Kappa Theta yearbooks for 1988-1989 and 1989-1990.

"That's your dad's photo from when he was president of his fraternity and also the fraternity yearbooks. Your dad has more photos in the earlier yearbook, but there's a whole memorial section in the other one with pages from other members writing about how great your dad was. so I took both." Dean explained as he handed each item over "The fraternity was having a party so it was really easy to just uh- walk in and take stuff."

Before you could even begin to process how meaningful these were though, Dean added,

"And then for your mom, they actually had a little display for her in the architecture building so I got these photos too."

Carefully, you took the photos of your mom from him as well. There was one of her drawing a building plan, another of her putting together a miniture model of a designed interior, and then a picture from her time on the school dance team. Of course that had nothing to do with either of her majors, but it was nice to see that aspect of her reflected as well. You could vaguely remember your dad taking you to the sporting events where she would perform with her team. You two sat in the seats closest to the field and cheered her on, and when she was done performing she would meet you two on the event center concourse as you ran on your little legs to her shouting 'Mommy! Good job!' and 'I love you!'. It was bittersweet to remember those times but it was better than forgetting completely.

You looked at your parents' faces. They were familar, but different. Your parents weren't old when you disappeared, but you could see their youth reflected in the photos. They had smile lines and the beginnings of dark circles which you could only assume were the result of college all-nighters. You were older than they were in these photos. It was only by a few years, but something about it felt wrong. Children are supposed to outlive their parents, but not like this. You looked at the photos of your mom once more, your eyes lingering over every detail on her face. It was like looking in a mirror. Everything of hers was yours and everything of yours was hers.

"You look just like her, y'know." Dean commented

You looked back up at him, the corners of your lips turning slightly upward as you mused,

"Reading my mind again?"

"No, just stating the obvious." He replied

You looked back down at the photos of your mom once more, the corners of your mouth surprisingly staying in their upturned position. It was comforting to have someone tell you that you looked like her after so long of not hearing it. It meant that when you looked in the mirror, some part of her was looking back.

"Yeah...everyone always said that I was her carbon copy," You wistfully reminisced "Except for my smile. Everyone said I had my dad's smile."

Dean stepped away from the car and over to your side. Looking down at the photo of your father in front of his fraternity house he saw the smile he wore on his face. If someone had shown him the image of that smile and asked him to identify it, he almost certainly would've said it was yours. It was practically identical.

"I can see it." Dean recalled "When you smile it's the exact same."

You looked over at Dean who looked back at you with a kind smile on his face and slowly your smile reflected his own. You saw as Dean looked down at the photo he had handed you of your dad once more before looking back up at you again and commenting,

"Yeah, that's the same smile."

The words began to form in your mind on what you were going to say to thank him for such a gift but before they could even leave your mouth you saw as Dean's eyes shot wide and he recalled,

"Oh I almost forgot, this was in the display too."

Walking back over to the front seat of his car once more he grabbed what looked to be some type of spiral-bound book. Gesturing to the stuff in your hands, he carefully took the pile from you before handing you the item. As you finally got your eyes on it though, you finally recognized what it was.

"Mom's sketchbook..." You said under your breath

You traced the cursive of your mother's name written on the cover and the number one she printed below it. It was her first sketchbook. What should've been the first of many. Opening the front cover you slowly turned through the pages filled with different sketches of building plans and room interiors. It was a jumbled mix of rough drafts, doodles, and final works, some of which felt familiar as you realized they were the concepts your mother had adapted to fit the floor plans of your old home.

You recalled the way in which you would sit at the table with your mom over the years and just watch her draw in her sketchbooks. And when she was having a mental block she'd pass the sketchbook and pencil over to you and let you draw an idea of a building or a new concept for a room. And when you finished, she would always smile and thank you before flipping to the next page and turning your idea into a reality. When she didn't have any inspiration, you became her inspiration. And over the years, while you never became quite as good as your mom was, you developed a knack for drawing buildings and interior rooms too.

You flipped through the pages until you arrived at ones that were blank. Ones that should've been filled with ideas and drawings and eraser marks, but never would be. Slowly, you closed the book and you picked up the rest of the items that Dean had taken from you to hold. You stared at the pile as a bittersweet feeling washed over you. Gently, you held the items closer to you as you closed your eyes. A few streaks of tears rolled down your face as the water that had stayed in your waterline was forced out. You knew you were never going to see your parents again, but the items in your arms made them feel real and tangible in a way you hadn't felt in years. These items wouldn't change the fact that they were dead, or the fact that you never got to say goodbye, but they were much more healing of a keepsake compared to the newspaper clipping announcing their deaths. And for that reason alone, they were more than enough. You hugged the folders and books and photos tighter against your chest as if trying to send a message across time and space, life and death, that you loved them. You still loved them. You'd always love them.

There was a silence for a moment as you held the items in your arms, but then softly Dean spoke,

"I know it's not much and I'm sorry for kinda desecrating the memorials of them, but I just thought even if there's not that many days left, you still deserved something of them."

You looked over at him with a smile forming on your face. You couldn't care less about the mini memorials the university had. He had found and brought these items to you on the thought and hope that it would make you feel better. And it did. He took a risk just to make you happy. And he did. You didn't expect these items, but now they were yours and you'd never let them go.

"Dean besides the locket around my neck and my diary back at the hotel these are the most tangible pieces of my parents I've had in years." You replied "You don't how much this means to me."

A smile began to creep onto Dean's face as he realized he had succeeded in what he wanted to do. It was a risky decision that he made on a whim at like 3 a.m., but it was all worth it to see you just that little bit happier.

"That's good." Dean mentioned as he lifted up his hand "At least it means busting up my hand was worth it."

You looked at his left hand to see that it was bandaged around his knuckles with stains of dried blood on the gauze wrap.

"Oh my god, I didn't even notice that!" You exclaimed concerned "What did you do?"

"My lockpick broke so I uh- I had to break the glass of the display case your mom's stuff was in." Dean replied with a shrug "But hey uh- twins, am I right?"

You looked over at the pile of items he had given you down at your own bandaged left hand from the night before. While his gauze was a little more haphazardly done compared to the neat bandaging Kenny had done for you, they were both wrapped on the same hand in almost the exact same spot. When you called Dean your twin you didn't think it would also apply to matching injuries but here you were with fucked up hands all around.

"Huh yeah. Twins." You commented back, a smirk playing on your face

Throwing his left arm around your shoulder, Dean leaned you towards him as he placed a kiss on top of your head. He couldn't fix the world for you, but if he could do his best to make these last few days just a little better, then by the time the world ended he would be satisfied.

"C'mon, let's go see what's for breakfast." He suggested

Feeling your stomach slightly rumble, you nodded your head at the suggestion and the two of you turned to head back into the house. As you walked down the path back up to the stairs together, you looked over at Dean and said,

"You're an amazing brother."

Dean looked at you softly as he took in what you said. While he would never admit it out loud, he also would feel highly accomplished if, between him and Diego, he was deemed the better brother. The BEST brother. Of course, he would keep these feelings to himself out of respect for you, but amazing was pretty close to best and he was going to do his best to get there.

"I promised I'd take care of you." Dean responded cheerfully "I'm just doing my job."

As you walked back up the front stairs and into the house you could hear the sound of your friends conversing in the kitchen. Walking in with Dean, you saw as Kenny, Viktoria, and Addison sat around the kitchen table while Lucas had his back turned as he cooked something on the stove.

"Where did you two go?" Kenny asked

"Dean broke into my parents' old university and stole stuff of theirs for me to remember them by." You replied as you placed the items on the table

"Aww, that's sweet." Addison cooed before pointing at the images and questioning "Is that them?"

"Yeah, it is. My mom was 18 in those photos and my dad was between 19 and 20 in his." You explained pointing at each of your parents "Although there are probably some of him at 18 if you look in the yearbooks, I haven't had a chance to look yet."

Tilting the photos so they could see them better, your friends at the table took a look at the images. They had never actually seen a photo of your parents before. You would only talk about them openly on rare occasions and even then it was more so memories or facts about them rather than their appearance, so it was interesting to actually see what they looked like. However, as Kenny looked at the picture of your father, a smirk came to his face as he asked,

"Damn (Y/N), is your dad single?"

"No." You retorted unamused

"Is your mom single?" Viktoria chimed in

"No!" You exclaimed, "First of all, they're dead, and second of all they're married in the afterlife."

"How do you know?" Kenny questioned

"I just do!" You shouted back

Viktoria reached up a hand and patted your shoulder in an attempt to ease your annoyance as she stated,

"Calm down, we're just teasing."

You let out a frustrated sigh as you pulled out a chair and sat down at the table with the group. You pulled the pile of items Dean had gotten close to you as you took a moment to look through one of your dad's yearbooks. You listened as the group chatted about random events from the past before Addison broached the topic of 'what now?'

"So what do we do today?" She asked, "I mean the world is still ending, so how do we fill the time from now until doomsday?"

You looked up from the yearbook and saw the rest of your friends looking toward you for an answer. Carefully shutting the book, you placed it back on the pile with the rest of the items and gave your attention to your friends. But just because you were the smartest in the room didn't mean you always had an idea.

"Honestly, I don't know." You replied, "But I'll take any suggestions that don't end our existence earlier than a few days from now."

The group was silent for only a moment before the sound of Kenny clearing his throat could be heard. The rest of you turned your heads to look at him, and with a wide smile on his face he announced,

"I have a suggestion."

"Go on." Dean implored

"I just so happen to know of a very special boy who had an 18th birthday a few days ago, twice, but also it sucked, TWICE, so he should definitely get a do-over." Kenny explained enthusiastically, obviously insinuating that the very special boy was himself

"You want to go bowling again?" Viktoria asked confused

Kenny's face immediately contorted into a grimace of sorts as he retorted,

"What? No. I suck at bowling."

"Personally, I don't mind bowling." Dean chimed in

"Of course, you don't mind. You always win." Addison remarked

"It's not my fault you all can't keep up with my accuracy expertise." Dean bragged

"(Y/N) could." Viktoria mentioned

"Not without cheating." Dean jabbed

Turning your head to look at him, you shot him a displeased look. This had been a minor point of contention before, but he just couldn't seem to let it go.

"Uh excuse me ya dickhole, I have held my own in bowling without my powers on many occasions." You remarked

"Still cheated." Dean asserted

"I only cheated ONCE!" You loudly proclaimed "And it was because I was on my period and my ibuprofen wasn't working and I was upset because you were rubbing it in my face that you were winning. So really it was your fault I cheated at bowling."

"Stop talking about bowling!" Kenny interjected "We're talking about me getting a birthday do-over!"

"Why do you get a birthday do-over? My 18th birthday was a little over 2 weeks ago." Bren questioned

You saw as he stood there with an unpleasant look on his face, but it seemed he had finally managed to find his shirt. As the rest of the group turned to look at him though, Bren's eyes landed solely on Dean. Annoyance laced his tone as he mockingly commented,

"Thanks for lying to me Dean. My back did say asshole."

"I told you so." Kenny reminded

"Haha, yeah it did." Dean laughed

Lifting his hand up slightly, Bren smacked the back of Dean's head at his comment.

"Ow." Dean said as he rubbed the back of his head

Turning his back to the group, he lifted up the back of his shirt to show off where the word had been written. You saw that he had managed to scrub off both A-S-S on one side and the L-E on the other, but that left the unfortunate message of HO still there. Once again the group snickered at the message on his back causing Bren's face to contort into an even more annoyed expression.

"You're gonna help me get the rest of it off you prick," Bren demanded

"Alright ho." Dean teasingly joked

Rolling his eyes, Bren pulled down the back of his shirt as he finally took a seat at the kitchen table with the rest of the group. When he was fully seated, Kenny turned his attention toward him as he responded to Bren's prior question.

"To answer your question my dear Brennyboo," Kenny began

"Hate that nickname..." Bren mumbled

He said he hated it, but you all knew he didn't. The small smile he always tried to hide was a good indicator of his true feelings as Brennyboo was the earliest nickname Kenny ever gave him, so as much as he complained about it, everyone knew he actually loved it.

"I get a birthday do-over because my birthday is closest." Kenny finished

Things were quiet for a moment as everyone processed his reasoning. But as the words settled in, and the message was getting through, you all began to realize that his reasoning was kinda bullshit. Being the first to speak up, Dean replied,

"That's not fair. Viktoria and I's 18th birthday passed a while ago so we should be more qualified to get birthday do-overs."

"Well Lucas and I won't even get to see our 18th birthdays so I think we should actually get pre-emptive do-overs." Addison suggested

"Not to throw my hat in the ring, but I did have four birthdays without you guys which means four times the do-overs." You chimed in

You guys began to debate the logistics of who was the most qualified to have a do-over party. Granted, was it a very stupid and unnecessary debate? Yes. But by god were you going to die on this trash opinion of a hill? Also yes. Who would you be as a friend group if you weren't willing to die on the stupidest of hills every once in a while? But as you continued to debate each other, Lucas chimed in from over by the stove asking,

"What if we just all had a group party?"

The rest of you stopped for a moment before a collective of 'oh yeah's came from you all at the table. But with the debate laid to rest by the easiest and what should have been the most obvious answer, another question arose.

"Okay, but now we're back to square one of what do we do. If it's all our party who picks what happens." Addison asked

Confused looks came to the faces of those who sat around the table as you all tried to think of a solution that would work. But then, it was like a lightbulb came on in your head as an idea shot straight to the forefront of your mind. You just had to consult the ultimate decision-maker. Turning to Bren you inquired,

"Bren, do you still carry DND dice on you?"

"Yeah, of course." He replied matter-of-factly "I'm not THAT different from the last timeline."

"Hand me your d8." You requested, reaching out your hand

You watched as Bren dug through his pants pockets for a moment before pulling out a small drawstring bag and dumping out the set of seven dice on the table. Leaning in Bren looked over the dice trying to find the right one.

"Uh...percentile...no that's my d10..." He mumbled before exclaiming "Ah here it is! d8!"

Picking up the d8 die, he placed it in your hand as you brought it over to yourself. You rolled the die between your fingertips and for a moment you reminisced on the times you had played dnd with your friends. They were good times, but right now you needed the die to help you make a decision. You looked up and around at your group of friends, all of them looking back waiting for you to explain why you were asking for dice.

"As we all know, a d8 is numbered one through eight, and although I have never fully agreed with it, we all know what our numbers are." You explained holding up the die "I am going to roll this die and whoever's number it lands on gets to pick what we do. If it lands on 8, I'll roll it again. But no matter the outcome we follow the birthday rule that the answer is always yes. Okay?"

Looking around at everyone they either nodded their head at your explanation or verbally agreed to the terms you had laid out. With everyone's acknowledgment, you took that as your sign to roll. Shaking the die in your hand, you hoped for a reasonable outcome, but you would have to see what fate had in mine. Rather than it being the heart of the cards, it was the heart of the dice and the decision was in the hands of the dice gods now. Letting the die leave your hand you watched as it rolled on the table. You could feel the tension as everyone that sat around the table stared at it with the same intensity of a d20 death roll. Slowly the dice came to a stop and when it lay still you all leaned over the table to see the number on top.

Four.

A chorus of fucks and no rang out from most of you at the table as you realized this meant Kenny got to choose what you all were doing. The dice gods had turned their back on you and now you were dealing with the outcome.

"FUCK YEAH!" Kenny shouted as he jumped out of his seat excitedly "WE'RE SNEAKING INTO A CLUB AGAIN GANG!"

As Kenny began to take a victory lap around the kitchen table, Bren pointed down toward the die on the table as he scolded,

"That's it, you've failed me for the final time. You're going to dice jail."

As Bren shoved his dice back into the small drawstring bag and into his pocket again, the rest of the group sat back down, besides Lucas who had only chimed in once as he had been cooking the whole time. You all were slightly defeated but slowly came to accept the fact that the die rolled what it rolled and you just had to go with it.

"Okay fine, sure, whatever, we're sneaking into a club again." Addison mentioned "But might I remind that we don't even have clothes for that."

Looking at yourselves, you were reminded of the fact that you were all wearing the clothes you had on yesterday. Granted, you all could attempt to go home and get more clothes but that was risky and time-consuming. Both of which you weren't looking to do with the world ending so soon.

"We could go thrift shopping." Viktoria suggested

"Oooh thrifting!" Kenny exclaimed excitedly before adding "I need a new wardrobe, my current one isn't 'me' enough."

"I wouldn't mind doing that, I need more modern clothes anyway. Most of what I have is from the 60s." You added

"That dress doesn't look like it's from the 60s." Addison commented

"Well, I have it on loan from Sloane Hargreeves," You explained "aka Luther's girlfriend."

Still, by the stove, Lucas looked over his shoulder toward you and asked,

"If Luther becomes my dad, can she be my mom?"

"I don't see why not." You replied

"Hell yeah!" Lucas cheered before turning back to the stove

"Well if we have plans settled, then I guess we should head out." Dean stated

"Nuh-uh. Not without having some breakfast first!" Lucas replied as he finally turned away from the stove

You saw as he walked towards the table with a pan in hand. Placing it down on the table you saw a giant pan's worth of scrambled eggs sitting in front of you all. Like father, like son. Apparently, large portions of scrambled eggs were just built into the DNA of both Luther and Lucas. Honestly, it became more surprising how Lucas wasn't his son given the similarities. Nevertheless, none of you wanted to disappoint Lucas, given how hard he worked on making such a large pan, and so you grabbed some plates and forks from the kitchen before digging into the mountain of scrambled eggs.

It didn't take long for you all to feel either full or secretly disgusted by the amount of eggs you consumed. But with breakfast out of the way there was nothing else to do other than get your shoes on, grab the things you needed, and head out to the thrift store.

The drive wasn't a long one, but the city sure wasn't reminiscent of the one you had known. There were random items scattered all over the sidewalks and streets. Some businesses that you remembered to be popular were desolate and dark. Tow trucks could be seen on the roads pulling abandoned cars away and there were missing signs on every street corner. The people who were out and about either held flyers in their hands or looked around with unease as they walked. You couldn't blame them though, the world was in disarray and there was no explanation. Well, there was no explanation for them. For you and your friends, there was some comfort in the fact that you knew how and when it would end. There was no need to wonder what was going on because you already knew.

But still, you couldn't help but look at your friends for their reaction, but they had none. The boys were too occupied singing at the top of their lungs to How Far We've Come by Matchbox Twenty on the radio while the girls talked about the type of clothes they were hoping to find at the thrift store. None of them seemed to notice the world outside. They were all distracted by being with each other. You smiled a little before looking back out the window. You could only hope that you too would be able to become as distracted from the tragedy as they were.

As you arrived at the thrift store, you and your friends all exited Dean's car and walked to the entrance. This was your favorite of the local thrift stores to go to as all of you were always able to find something to take home when you came. You were slightly concerned that the place wasn't open given the lack of cars around, but with Lucas being able to open the front door with ease, it was maybe just a slow time for them. It was a Thursday at around 1 pm so probably not the busiest of times.

As you walked in with the rest of your friends you took a look around the place and noticed that it was filled to the brim with items. Clothes, furniture, books, music, movies. Anything and everything was there. Now that wasn't a surprise, all those items had been there the last time you came years ago. But it was the sheer volume of stuff that shocked you. The store itself wasn't large, but it also wasn't small either, so for it to be this full meant a lot of donations came their way, and you had some suspicions why. Nevertheless, you all started to make your way into the store. Addison quickly managed to grab both Lucas and Viktoria and drag them over to the women's clothing section, most likely to get their opinion on what she should wear. If she had four other hands she would've dragged the rest of the group with her too, but alas she only had two, and Lucas and Viktoria were the closest. Kenny and Bren slowly worked their way over to the media section leaving you and Dean near the front door. Glancing over at your brother, you wondered why he wasn't moving like the rest of the group and asked,

"You good?"

"Look over there." He mentioned tilting his head toward the corner of the store

You leaned forward slightly and peered around him to see what he saw. In the corner of the store were the cases by the cash register where jewelry or other valuable items were typically held. However, unlike normal, the cases were covered in cardboard with writing in Sharpie that read 'Broken glass. Do not remove.'

"The cases are broken." You stated

"It was probably a robbery." Dean suggested "Maybe we should look into it."

No, no, no. You weren't going to do this. It was not your responsibility to look into the petty crimes that were happening around the city. Sure, you all used to do so, and perhaps it may have been a bit of a pastime to "bring justice" to your hometown. But not now. As the black hole sucking up the earth progressed towards consuming time itself, things were going to get more chaotic. You had told Dean and the rest of your friends that you were not going to bother with saving the world anymore, you just wanted to have fun. And that included minor things like this. Was it a little selfish not to help? Maybe. But you weren't going to overextend yourself like you had before. You had 5 or 6 days left give or take and you were going to spend them how you wanted. This was better left to whatever was left of the police force in the city.

Even so, you saw the way that Dean looked at the broken cases and could feel the overwhelming sense of justice coming off him. But that was okay, you had a way to shut it down quickly.

"Pfft, you sound like Diego wanting to investigate." You mocked

Dean's head whipped toward you as a mix of shock and disgust resided on his face. How dare you compare him to that awful, uncool, stupid traitor, bad brother that he definitely never looked up to. He was nothing like him.

"Ha. Gotcha." You jabbed playfully

"That's not funny." He complained "I'm not like him."

"Oh, you're better?" You questioned sarcastically

"Uh yeah. I'm way better." Dean emphasized

You rolled your eyes at him and let out a little laugh. Whether he liked it or not he spent most of his formative years modeling himself after Diego and therefore had many similarities to him. Without Diego, he would've never taken up archery and perfected it to the extreme accuracy he had. You knew so given that he didn't do archery in this timeline before you made him remember you. But Dean was very ride-or-die when it came to you, especially after Diego and Eudora split. And if you were mad at Diego then he was going to be mad at Diego tenfold and there was nothing you could do about it. Except tease him of course. You had to get at least some entertainment out of his ego. Giving his shoulder a bit of a shove you picked up one of the reusable totes the shop kept by the door and began to walk over to where Bren and Kenny were.

"C'mon, you grump. Come look at shit with me." You teased

"I'm not a grump." Dean mumbled as he followed behind "You're just being mean to me."

Walking into the media section you looked around at all there was to offer. Shelves were lined with books, DVDs, and CDs while a line of crates were filled with records. You of course were only glancing over everything, but in a way, it felt nostalgic. You were surrounded by media you had lost to time by being stuck in the 60s and now here you were looking it over again. Slowly, you scanned the shelves hoping to find some stuff that you could watch, read, or listen to in the coming days. You knew that there wasn't much time left, and you probably couldn't do it all, but it was more so the memories from the first time you experienced them that you wanted to feel again. And if Five came back before you were all dead, and gave up on saving the world, then maybe you could share those things with him too. As you walked the DVD aisle with Dean, you ran a finger carefully over the back of each case making sure to read the titles correctly.

"Oh shit." Dean said aloud

You turned your head to look at him as he held some type of box set in his hands. Looking down at it he excitedly exclaimed,

"All four seasons of Big Time Rush on DVD?! Oh yeah, this is coming home with me."

"Nice find." You complimented as you opened the tote for him to place the set in

Continuing your search you pulled some DVDs off the shelves as well. Ferris Bueller's Day Off, The Princess Bride, the complete Teen Titans series. But as you went along there were some more sentimental choices. You found a copy of the movie Cars and a DVD of the first Princess Diaries movie. You were genuinely pleased with your choices, recalling the good memories they had brought you, but right as you were about to turn the corner to go to the music section you were stopped by the sight of a very familiar superhero.

"Spider-Man." You whispered

As you took a closer look you realized it wasn't just Spider-Man. It was YOUR Spider-Man. Snatching the case off the shelf you looked at the cover intensely as you quickly read every word on the front,

"The Amazing Spider-Man Saga: Full Movie Set. Includes The Amazing Spider-Man, The Amazing Spider-Man 2 and-"

You stopped.

It couldn't be.

This couldn't be real.

But the words were right there on the package.

"The. Amazing. Spider-Man. THREE?!" You slowly read aloud, emphasizing each word

Looking away from the DVD shelves, Dean looked at you and nonchalantly replied,

"Oh yeah, we got a third movie in this timeline."

"YOU DIDN'T TELL ME THEY MADE A THIRD!" You yelled, genuinely appalled no one told you

"I don't think about Spider-Man the way you do so it didn't cross my mind." Dean replied shrugging his shoulders

"Unbelievable." You complained as you placed the box set into the tote bag

Walking around the corner away from the DVD aisle you ended up in the music section and saw Kenny and Bren browsing through the selection. Kenny stood looking through the shelves of CDs while Bren flipped through the boxes of records. This was always their strategy. One would look through the shelves of CDs for stuff either wanted while the other did the same with records. As you approached the pair you could hear Bren comment to Kenny,

"Damn, what teenager died and had all their shit donated?"

You winced for a moment at his comment. Whoever it was, all their things were now here in some thrift store. You couldn't imagine having your whole life, all the things you valued and cherished, just given away. Maybe it was because you had a tendency to cling to your sentimental items, but it just seemed wrong.

"I don't know. More stuff for us though." Kenny replied "Also I found Welcome To The Black Parade. Do have this one in this timeline?"

"I do. Try looking for Fall Out Boy, for some reason I didn't get their stuff this time." Bren replied "Also I found a Vance Joy record."

"Is it Dream Your Life Away?" Kenny asked

"Yeah." Bren stated

"Oh give me that one. That's my favorite and I don't have it this time around." Kenny eagerly replied

Your moment of pain subsided as you saw how happy the two of your friends were. You really needed to try and focus on being in the moment and not the overall picture. Every time you thought about the inevitability of the future it drove you a little mad and pulled you away from what mattered. Your friends. Deciding to walk over, you approached the pair and asked,

"Find any good stuff?"

"Yeah we've been finding some stuff we like," Bren answered "Speaking of good stuff though I found you some records."

"Oh really? What are they?" You asked intrigued

You watched as Bren pulled out two records from the small pile he had resting on top of one of the boxes next to him. Holding one up in each hand you recognized them immediately.

"Hozier!" You said excitedly "Holy shit, what a score."

Bren reached his hands out for you to take the records from him, which you did immediately. You had both of these albums in the first timeline, but they unfortunately got crushed when Viktor blew up the house. And then of course there was no time to go get new copies before the world ended and you ended up in the 60s. So to have both his self-titled album Hozier and Wasteland, Baby! was a major find. Looking up at Bren you pointed toward the Wasteland, Baby! album and asked,

"Didn't this one come out like a month ago? Why would someone get rid of it?"

"Maybe someone's uber-religious parents found out that Hozier's worship-sounding songs are about y'know- a different kind of worship." Dean commented from behind the group

You turned around to see Dean who seemed to have had a sour look on his face. He was so excited about finding the Big Time Rush box set only a few minutes ago that you wondered what could've brought his mood down so quickly. Nevertheless, you responded to his comment saying,

"Well, whatever the reason may be, they're mine now."

Dean nodded his head slightly before Bren turned his attention away from the records toward him and questioned,

"So where have you been?"

"In the DVD section looking for the Big Time Rush movie." Dean answered

"Did you find it?" Kenny inquired

"No. All I found was the One Direction movie..." Dean complained, annoyance and disappointment evident in his tone

Walking over to Dean, Kenny gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and opened to say something, but before any words could get out you could hear Addison's voice call out,

"What are you guys doing?"

Down the aisle of CDs and record crates, she stood there with a pile of clothing in her arms. Lucas and Viktoria stood close behind her with their own smaller piles of clothes in their arms as well. The three of them looked at you with confused looks as the other four of you looked back with confused looks of your own. There was a silence between the two confused groups before Addison reminded,

"We are here to get clothes for someone's idea of what a birthday party is. So maybe the people who don't have fabric in their hands should go and get some."

"A please would be nice." Dean remarked

"Go." Addison emphasized "Now."

There was a moment where you all tried to resist the convincing nature in which she said 'now', but like all other times she had pulled her weird mental manipulation it did not work and you all were convinced to go.

"Fine." Dean replied as he walked towards the men's section

Looking between Bren and Kenny, you gave them a shrug before putting the records Bren had found you into the tote and walking off to the women's section. Like you had mentioned at breakfast, besides an outfit to go out tonight, you needed to find some new clothes. Your clothes from the sixties were a few decades outdated and although you looked good in the clothes Sloane had lent you, you wanted your old closet back. You didn't need a lot of clothes, just enough to get you to the end of the world, but if the Hargreeves somehow managed to finally stop the apocalypse, then you'd probably come back for more. But that wasn't likely given that they'd have to stop a literal blackhole and their track record of working together wasn't great.

But that wasn't your problem!

As you searched the aisles you started to pick out items that resembled the style of clothing you used to wear and to be honest, it was quite comforting. It was like regaining a piece of yourself that you knew you couldn't be in the 60s. Of course, you were able to be a bit more of yourself when it was just you and Charlie, but it was still a whole different world than what you had grown up used to. When you were stuck in the 60s you needed to blend in as best as you could. You couldn't risk having the people around you find out the truth, so you had to hide a lot of who you were to keep yourself safe. Back in the present though, that wasn't the case. You were you, the you that you knew yourself to be, and these clothes were one step in the right direction to get back to that place fully. It didn't take all too long for you to find enough outfits to last you til the end of time, but right as you were about to start searching for what to wear tonight, Addison quickly approached you. You looked at her waiting for her to say something but instead, without a word, she grabbed onto your wrist and dragged you behind her.

"Addison, where are we going?" You asked confused

"I found something you need to try on." Addison emphasized

With her response and the direction in which you were being dragged, you could tell that she was taking you toward the dressing rooms of the shop. Addison on previous shopping trips had presented you with things she wanted you to try on, but never had she been so adamant that you NEEDED to try something. Her insistence concerned you a bit.

"Need?" You questioned aloud

Before she could respond to your statement though, the two of you stopped as you saw Kenny and Bren step out of some dressing rooms in highly contrasting outfits. Kenny was sporting an outfit that consisted completely of neon green articles of clothing. He had on a neon green mesh tank top, a neon green leather vest, neon green pants, and somehow both neon green bedazzled boots and a neon green bedazzled cowboy hat. How he found that much neon green to create the brightest, gaudiest outfit known to man was honestly impressive. Bren on the other hand went in the complete opposite direction sporting all-black attire. A black hooded leather jacket, plain black t-shirt, black skinny jeans, and his own black Converse. The two boys took a look at each other's outfits for a moment, to see what each other considered the perfect outfit.

"Dude, you look like a rave cowboy and a traffic cone had a baby." Bren commented

"Thank you, Prince of Darkness, that's what I was going for." Kenny replied

Bren smirked a little at the nickname. Of course, the little punk enthusiast of the group would enjoy being deemed the Prince of Darkness. Stepping around Bren, Kenny looked at the mirror on the wall outside of the dressing rooms admiring his striking outfit, but as he did so he could see you and Addison standing behind.

"Oh do one of you need a dressing room?" Kenny asked

"No, I'm good. I found the prettiest sparkly jumpsuit from the bridal section over there," Addison explained before adding "But she needs one."

"I'm not your personal Barbie doll, Addison." You interjected "If you want to play dress-up with someone why don't you grab your Ken doll of a boyfriend?"

"Because I'm done playing dress up with him. Lucas is going to wear an open, tan, short-sleeve button-up, with a white t-shirt underneath, and a nice pair of black, seven-inch inseam shorts with some white sneakers. He even got aviator glasses as an accessory," Addison explained "You however have no outfit."

At this point she was just being ridiculous about this whole thing. What was so important about this outfit anyway? Why was she practically dying over getting you to try it on? Trying to explain yourself, you began to reply,

"Well if you gave me the opportunity to pick-"

But you were quickly cut off.

"Will you just shush. I know what I'm doing," Addison interrupted before putting a ball of fabric in your hands and pushing you into a dressing room "Now put this on."

"But-" You tried to protest

"Put it on," Addison commanded "NOW."

You stared each other down as her command seeped into the farthest recesses of your brain. You didn't want to do what she said but something within you felt compelled to do so. You hated when she did this and how easily she would win. But the only way the feeling would subside is if you gave in. So you did, and relented,

"Fine."

Grabbing onto the clothing item she had put in your arms, you stepped back into the dressing room more and closed the curtain. Placing the tote bag from over your shoulder on the ground, you finally undid the ball of fabric in your arms to see what it was that Addison was so insistent you try on. Once the clothing item was fully unfolded, you held it up in front of you as you took a look at what it was.

"Oh no." You said aloud

"Oh yes!" Addison said excitedly from the other side of the curtain

The item that you held in your hands, the one your friend was so dead set on you wearing, was none other than a little black dress. Nevertheless, you said you would try it on and so you did. Slipping off the white dress Sloane had lent you to wear, you now put on the black one Addison insisted you try. As you suspected from looking at it, the fabric hugged tightly against your figure, but not in a way that was uncomfortable. Quite the opposite, the dress felt natural on you, like a second skin against your own. You also were a bit surprised with how supportive the dress was given the thinness of the spaghetti straps it had. Addison and you typically had different tastes, but this selection you kind of liked.

As much as you were beginning to like it though, you weren't fully sure of how it looked on you as there was no mirror in the dressing room. And how it looked was almost as important as how it felt. Therefore, the only way you were going to get the full scope of the dress was if you left the dressing room to use the mirror right outside. But that also meant you were going to get the full scope of your friends opinions on it too and your friends could be...unfiltered. You really didn't have a choice though if you wanted to see the dress in full and so after a moment of working up the courage you opened the curtain and stepped out.

Before you could say anything about the dress, you were immediately hit with the reactions of your friends. Kenny whistled that recognizable whistle to signify someone looked good towards you, while your other friends let the intrusive thoughts win when it came to their compliments.

"Damn (Y/N), if I wasn't straight nor your friend I'd ask you out." Addison mentioned

"Y'know what? I get why my ex-girlfriend was jealous of you now." Bren commented

"Nice tits!" Viktoria stated excitedly

You stared at them in disbelief. Why in the world did you choose these people to be your friends? Oh right, you didn't. They chose you and you loved them for it no matter how ridiculous they were.

"Thank you." You replied flatly as you playfully rolled your eyes

Walking past your friends, you stood in front of the mirror outside the dressing rooms and actually took a look at yourself, and honestly...

You looked hot.

Just as nicely as the dress felt, it looked even better on you. The fabric hugged you in all the right places, accentuating your figure in the best way. The hem of the dress went to right below your knee but the slit on the left side exposed your leg up to your mid-thigh. And although you would not acknowledge it verbally, Viktoria's comment was spot on. It was a really good dress on you. But there was one criticism you had with it.

"It's nice but I just don't feel like this is something I'd wear to a club..." You mentioned, turning to look at your friends, but specifically Addison "Don't get me wrong, it's really nice, but personally, I wouldn't pick it for a night out with friends."

You stood by the mirror waiting for Addison to protest your criticism but were surprised when instead she replied,

"You know what? You're right."

"I am?" You questioned

You were surprised by her admitting fault so easily. Granted, you were right about a lot of things a lot of the time, but you thought she would've at least tried to argue with you on it a little more given she was so adamant about this dress. However, the smirk on her face made you think that she still had some thoughts about it.

"Yeah. You're right, it's not something you'd wear on a night out," Addison explained before suggesting "But it would be perfect for a night in with Five."

Your jaw dropped slightly in disbelief. The audacity of this bitch. Of course, you meant that with love, but her desire to try and "assist" in other people's relationships was a flaw that she was continuously oblivious to. You knew this idea in her head was coming from a place of care. She just wanted you to be happy, but the ins and outs of your relationship were not something she needed to have a hand in.

"Oh my god. This was a ploy to play wingwoman?" You confoundedly stated before gesturing around "Like bestie- he's not even here."

"He'll be back." Kenny affirmed

"Oh yeah? How do you know?" You pressed

"Those bruises might've healed already, but his name was on your neck." Kenny elaborated "That's the work of a man who's coming back to finish what he started."

Turning your face towards the floor to hide it, you could feel a heat rise to your cheeks at the comment. And while he was correct in the fact that the marks on your neck from the night before had healed by this point, that didn't stop you from bringing your hands up to cover the sides of your neck. You weren't typically one to get flustered, but between trying to suppress thoughts about your boyfriend and the slight embarrassment at your inexperience in relationships you couldn't help but try to hide your reaction. All those years of teasing or making comments about your friends' relationships had finally come to bite you in the ass.

"Listen- while appreciate your attempt to- I guess- get me laid before the world ends-" You stuttered flustered before remarking "I can handle my own relationship without intervention from you all, thank you very much."

"Can you?" Bren asked

"Yes! I can!" You exclaimed just a little louder than speaking volume

The group stared at you with playful smirks on their faces as you walked over toward the dressing room you were just in and proclaimed,

"Now, I am going back into this dressing room and I am taking the dress off and actually finding something I want to wear tonight."

"But you're still gonna get the dress, right?" Addison asked

"No." You responded flatly trying to end the discussion

"But you have to!" Viktoria remarked

"(Y/N) pleaseeeeee," Addison begged

You closed your eyes and scrunched your face as you tried to get your thoughts and feelings in check. Why did your existence have to be so overwhelming in a variety of ways? Letting out a sigh, you replied,

"I'm still not wearing it tonight, but if I buy it will you all stop complaining?"

With wide smiles and collective nods of your friends' heads, you relented,

"Fineeeee,"

"Thank god you said yes," Kenny mentioned "My next threat was that I was gonna wear it and seduce your brother."

"Uh, no thanks." Dean replied as he walked up behind the group "If I were to date a dude you would not be on my list of choices."

"I meant her older brother," Kenny corrected before adding "You'd be lucky to get me."

"You're not my type!" Dean retorted "Also, you think sleeping with her older brother is a threat? That's a shame my guy. Have some self-respect. You're better than that."

See as you didn't want to be a part of this conversation nor the conversation that led up to this point anymore, you stepped back into the dressing room and as you closed the curtain you stated,

"Okay. I'm done. I'm going now. Goodbye."

With the curtain fully closed you slipped out of the dress you were tricked into and back into the one you were wearing before. Placing the black dress in your tote bag of stuff, you were still a little annoyed and flustered, but you couldn't be fully mad. It was a really good dress on you. But you still had no clue what type of event in the foreseeable future it would even make sense to wear it to. With your original clothes back on and all your stuff in your tote bag, you exited the dressing room and walked back over to the women's section to try and find something you actually would want to wear tonight. Something casual but also good enough to party in since Kenny had decided that's what you were doing. After a bit of searching you had managed to find a cute floral two-piece set to wear. The set was a warm cream color with a pattern of green tropical leaves and white flowers across both the short-sleeved blouse and shorts. As you placed the set into the tote bag, you could see Dean approaching.

"You find something for tonight?" He asked

"Yeah, I think this'll do." You replied gesturing to the set you had just placed in the bag "I'm going to head up to check out though."

"Okay. I think I'm going to try and see if I can find a pair of shoes to go with what I picked out." Dean replied holding up his clothes

In his hands were a pair of black dress pants and a silky, short-sleeve, maroon, button-up with a subtle rose pattern on it. The outfit he wore to prom was similar, but of course that had a suit jacket and a tie to it as well.

"I'll meet you up there soon." Dean added

"Alright, cool." You replied as you turned around and walked to the register

As you turned the corner and stepped out of the aisle, you caught view of the register by the broken glass cases. There was someone standing there talking to the employee behind the register. At first, you assumed that it was just another customer and so you stood off to the side waiting for them to go, but as you took the time to focus on the other person, it was as if time stopped. You recognized that voice. You recognized that face. You knew who that person in front of you was.

Eudora.

It had been years since you had seen her alive. And yet here she was, or at least a version of her was, living and breathing just as much as any other person. You could feel yourself becoming overwhelmed at all the emotions that were building up inside you. Disbelief. Joy. Confusion. Grief. Your brain felt overloaded and your body reacted as such. Tears built in your eyes that you tried your best to blink away. You balled your hands into fists to prevent them from shaking, but it only made the shaking more evident. The feeling in your chest went back and forth between clenching and feeling like it was about to explode.

And then she looked over at you. There was no semblance of recognition on her face. She didn't know who you were. But you knew her and you recognized the look of worry that she had. She turned to look at the cashier for a moment before turning back toward you and walking your way. You were still stuck in place, unable to move. She at you with such concern in her eyes as she spoke,

"Hi, I'm Detective Patch. I work with the city's police department. Are you okay? Do you need help?"

You looked at her. Really looked at her. It felt unreal to see her.

"It's you..." You whispered

"Huh?" She replied curiously

Why did you say that? What were you thinking? She doesn't know you. To her you look like some young girl on the brink of crying. You can only imagine what scenarios she thinks are going on right now, all of which would probably sound insanely more probable than the truth. You needed to pull yourself together.

"I'm sorry...you just look exactly like someone I know-" You said before correcting "Someone I knew."

"Knew?" She asked

"They- they passed away four years ago..." You replied quietly

You looked at her with tears ready to fall from your eyes. You never saw what had happened. Diego never mentioned it and you knew he would've never told you even if you asked. But the pain and the loss was still there. And while you had done some of your grieving in the 60s, this whole mess with Diego and Lila cut open that wound and filled it with salt. It hurt.

"Oh no. I'm so sorry." Eudora spoke before softly asking "Do you want a hug?"

And with those five words, the tears began to fall heavily from your eyes. Dropping your bag to the ground, you rushed to her and wrapped your arms tightly around her waist. You fought against your feelings as you tried to hold your cries in but it only helped to exacerbate the sobs. God how embarrassing it was to be physically and audibly sobbing in the middle of a thrift shop holding on to someone who just met you. But nothing in you was allowing you to let go. You felt as Eudora froze for a moment when you first hugged her, but quickly after she wrapped her arms around you too. As she held you, one of her hands ran gently through your hair as she attempted to soothe you. It felt the exact same as when she used to comfort you and as she held you, you let yourself believe this was your version.

"It's not fair..." You cried "I- I didn't even get to say g-goodbye..."

"No, that's not fair." Eudora comforted "You shouldn't have had to go through that, especially so young." It felt so relieving to hear her tell you that you shouldn't have gone through what you went through. To have her agree that it was unfair and painful. You had so many things you wished you could've said to her. So many things that your Eudora would never get to hear. But perhaps this one could. Pulling yourself together as best as you could, you took a step back and looked at her.

"I- I know this m-might sound awkward b-but can I-" You stuttered out "Can I say goodbye to you?"

"Sure," She replied gently "Go ahead." You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths as you tried to fully calm yourself. And when you felt ready enough you opened your eyes and spoke,

"You were an amazing woman and I miss you so much everyday. I miss the way you'd smile at me when you were proud and I miss the way you would get annoyed when I'd try to eat ice cream before dinner." As the memories came back though, your composure started to fail. The choking feeling in your throat started to return as did the tears in your eyes. You tried to push through the feelings as you continued,

"I miss seeing you in the crowd of all my achievements a-and the way you'd hold me when I was sad or scared. You helped raise me into the person I've become and it h-hurts to know that I never got a chance to thank you for that." It was too much though and your once confident voice was again reduced to sobbing stutters as you finished,

"I-I-I love you so much...I will n-never stop loving you and I swear I-I will never ever forget you." Eudora smiled at you. Gently, she pushed some hair that had fallen in your face behind your ear before wiping some of your tears away. Looking you in the eyes, she comfortingly stated,

"You seem like a lovely young woman and I'm sure that she loves you just as much and is so proud of you."

"I can only hope so." You replied quietly

"I know so." She responded You moved in to hug her once more. She was proud and she loved you. Even if she didn't realize the impact of what she had just said, it still meant so much to hear. You tried to pull yourself together, but it was so hard. You just loved her so much.

"Things are going to be, okay." She soothed "You're going to be okay."

It took a moment but you managed to calm yourself down. Stepping away was difficult but you couldn't hold on forever. She was Eudora but she wasn't yours. You couldn't keep her.

"Thank you." You sincerely stated

"If I only do one good thing today, then I'm glad that it could be to help you." She said with a smile before her face dropped slightly "But unfortunately, I need to go get back to work, there's a lot of trouble going on around this city."

"Yeah, I understand..." You quietly replied

"I know it's a bit of an ask, but you do think you can try and have a good rest of your day?" She questioned "For her and for me. I'm sure that neither of us would want you to be sad."

"I can try." You replied, trying to put on a brave face

"Good." She replied with a smile "Take care of yourself, okay?" You couldn't find the strength to speak so instead you opted to nod your head at her. She smiled once more at you although there was a tinge of sadness in her eyes. Giving you a nod back she said,

"Bye sweetie." And with that, you watched her walk away and out the front door of the building. She was gone, and there was a very high chance that was the last time you'd ever see her in person. At least she seemed happy.

"Goodbye Eudora..." You quietly replied You looked down at your hand and the item that was now in it. It was Eudora's detective ID. Was it wrong that you took it? Sure, but she had misplaced it so many times in the first timeline that you knew she would never think you took it. And if you couldn't get your Eudora back, you at least wanted something of her to remember her by. Her ID had a photo of her and just like in the original timeline, she had a smile on her face. She wasn't really supposed to smile in the picture but she was so happy that she had made detective that it was impossible for her to take one without it. It wasn't the same as having her, but it would suffice. You let out a sigh as you turned around and went back to pick up your tote bag. But as you looked at the space behind you, you could see all your friends standing there. They held their items in their hands, but there were sad and concerned looks upon all their faces. The group looked at Dean, who then stepped forward and began to ask,

"Are you-?" You put your hand up to stop him. He and the rest of your friends already knew the answer and this store was not the place to talk about it.

"Later." You stated flatly "Let's just pay and get out of here." Dean looked at you for a moment before looking back at the rest of the group. They looked between each other concern still on their faces, but none of them was going to be the one to press the issue right now. If you said later, then the answer was later. The group gave Dean small, cautious nods. Turning back to look at you, he quietly replied,

"Okay." The seven of you quietly went up to the cash register and paid for all of your items before leaving the store and getting back in the car. There were still a lot of hours in the day before the club would even be open, and so for now you all drove around in the car figuring out what to do next.

As you were carrying on with your day, Five was carrying on with his investigation to find the emergency bunker and this mysterious founder. For the past hour, he and Lila had been going through the entire building trying to find where the bunker could be. And with each passing minute, Five grew more and more annoyed with the situation. Besides having trouble locating where he was supposed to go, he was also subjected to the ramblings of the mad woman he was stuck with currently. Lila would announce whatever thought popped into her mind without thinking it through or caring about what it was she was saying. And because of that, Five had been subjected to a rant of how her back hurts, her thoughts on poultry farming, her craving for scrambled eggs, and a vivid description of his brother's performance in the bedroom. He felt like he was beginning to hit new lows in his life, which was surprising given how many lows he had experienced thus far.

In an attempt to ignore her, Five handed the briefcase over to her as he reopened the master handbook looking for more information on how to deal with an issue like the one they were facing. However, as he flipped through the pages there was nothing to be found. Continuously, he searched the book for anything but all he came up with was nothing. Five's pace quickened as a surge of frustrated anger welled within him. And as the pair rounded a corner and headed up the stairs Five burst out complaining,

"This is just like a bunch of bureaucratic bullshit. There's no clear directives in here about crisis management!"

Harshly closing the book Five looked around at where he was. The fucking commission. He wanted to distance himself from this place and his work here. He was supposed to retire. Doing what he did back in the 60s was supposed to be the end of it all. He thought he was free but look at him now. Right back where he started.

"You know, Lila, I shouldn't even be here. I was- I was out. I was done. And yet here I am, swept back into the chaos!" Five ranted angrily as he scratched the back of his neck "Why can't I just escape this hellhole?"

"Because you love it." Lila replied flatly

Making it to the top of the stairs, Five walked through the nearby doorway into the planetarium sector of the commission building. But as he turned back to address Lila's inaccurate remark he let out some unexpected gas. Forgetting what he was going to say and feeling slightly embarrassed all Five could come up with was,

"My bad."

Turning away, Five began to walk across the room scratching vigorously at the back of his neck once more. God, why did his neck itch so much? Had some of the debris that nearly fell on him have materials that caused irritation in them? Was the material of his shirt not comfortable and he didn't notice until now? Whatever it was he was going to keep scratching as with many of his other problems he wanted it to go away.

"Face it, Five, apocalypse problems are the only things that get your heart pumping." Lila remarked from behind him

That wasn't true. The only reason he got so worked up over apocalypses is because of the real thing that got his heart pumping. You. God forbid he'd want to keep you safe. Was it so difficult to understand that he did not want to be dealing with an apocalypse? That he was only doing this to protect the people he loved? That if he had a choice this is the last thing he'd want to do? It didn't make sense why most people thought he wanted this. Who would actively want the world to end? What he wanted was to do normal couple things with you and perhaps find a way to circumvent Klaus' continuous untimely intrusions.

"I don't know why people keep saying that. I don't actually like chaos. I don't want disorder." Five ranted before adding more softly "I... I want retirement. I want to be with (Y/N) and everything keeps getting in the way of that."

Lila rolled her eyes at the response. From what she knew of him, he had spent his entire life trying to solve and fight the apocalypse. He was the best agent during his time at the commission and he had dedicated all of his time during the past two catastrophes to fighting what was originally deemed to be the inevitable. And he was saying he wanted to retire? Bullshit. Five Hargreeves was not the type of person who would actually enjoy the day-to-day of civilian life.

"Yeah, right. A normal life of groceries and taxes? You would die of boredom." Lila scoffed

"I wouldn't." Five responded as he continued walking, "Not with her."

Lila didn't get it. For some reason, Five thought he could honestly give up the fast life for what? A 'happily ever after' with you? It seemed ridiculous. You were annoying, a smart-ass, rude, and a little sadistic. And he wanted a life with that? Sure he was a little bit of all of those things too but it was impossible to tell what he saw in you.

"What's so special about her anyway?" Lila questioned condescendingly

Five stopped walking as he heard the question come from Lila. Her tone was filled with copious amounts of judgment. It was as if the snark lingered in the air. Five didn't want to deal with many things right now, but snidely belittling his girlfriend shot its way to the top of his list. Turning to face her, his eyes narrowed on her as he firmly stated,

"You know Lila, I'm so tired of your attitude toward my girlfriend who you don't know."

"I think I know enough." Lila remarked

Five did not have a lot of patience for Lila to begin with but, throughout this whole endeavor, since they worked on the briefcase back at the hotel, she had been wearing down what he had left more and more. And this right here was the final straw. She could make her little comments about him, his motives, his past, and his family. But not you. Absolutely not you.

"You may like to think you know her, but you don't. You don't know her the way I know her. You don't know her the way Diego knows her. And you don't know her the way the rest of my family knows her." Five ranted "She was in our lives first. YOU are the outsider."

Lila's face contorted into a frown. So what did it matter if you came into their lives first? That meant nothing to her. It's not like she wanted to be part of the same group as you or anything.

"Pfft I don't want to be part of your weird family circle-jerk anyway." Lila scoffed "Like what's that even supposed to mean?"

"What that means is that you have no right to be condescending about her because you don't share history with my family like she does, okay? (Y/N) has a heart of gold. All she does is care for others. My siblings and I could be far worse than the dysfunctional mess we already are but were aren't because she came out of nowhere and changed the course of our lives." Five snapped back

Five rolled his shoulders back trying to reel in his demeanor before looking at Lila pointedly.

"For the better, might I add," Five continued "Something I can't quite say the same of you."

Lila crossed he arms over her chest and rolled her eyes at Five. What a brat he was. If he was trying to hit her where it hurt well...it wasn't working. It wasn't working at all and she was completely unfazed. She didn't care about you or Diego or the rest of the family AT ALL. And nothing Five was saying was going to change her mind.

"If this is your way of trying to get me to apologize or whatever, I'm not going to." Lila mentioned

"I don't want your apology, Lila. I want to be back home with (Y/N)." Five replied his annoyance growing again "She's kind, and smart and strong, and beautiful, and even after every one of my screwups, she still manages to love me."

"So? Who cares?" Lila replied

"I CARE!" Five shouted

Five's hand ran through his hair frustratedly as he began to pace back and forth. All of the feelings that he tried to keep below the surface so he could focus on the world began to bubble up and boil over. He hated all of this. This was not the life he wanted to live when he made the decision to jump to 2019 and stop the first apocalypse. He was fortunate enough to return to a young adult version of himself but he couldn't even do anything worth wild with it because he kept being dragged away. He couldn't stand it. It drove him crazy. Turning to face like Five began to rant,

"Can't you see I don't want to be here with you? I don't want to be here at all! I want to be with HER. I want to be able to love HER! She is the one and only reason I'm here trying to save the world, with YOU no less, because if she's not in it- if I-"

Five stopped. His face dropped as his thoughts changed from the anger of not getting to be with you to the fear and sadness of losing you. His eyes became glazed over as he looked off into the distance. The sound of you screaming in pain and the image of your lifeless body in his arms flashed across his mind causing him to visibly wince. He shut his eyes trying to shut the image and sound out but it was burned in there as a reminder of what happens when he fails.

Lila saw the change in Five's demeanor. She had never seen him this helpless. It confused her a little. He was always so stand-offish and acted like a know-it-all that she didn't even think it was in him to be vulnerable like this. Everyone had a weakness though and just like Diego was hers, you were Five's. She honestly felt a little bad for the guy. Not a lot but enough for her to approach him and try to grab his attention calling,

"Five?"

"If I lose her again..." He said, his voice strained and his eyes not meeting Lila's gaze "Then there's nothing in the world worth saving."

Lila's head cocked to the side. She heard what he had said but she was unsure if she was hearing him right.

"What are you saying?" Lila asked

"I'm saying I can't live without her again. No. I refuse to live without her." Five replied finally meeting her gaze "You wanted to know why she's so special Lila? It's because she is the only thing keeping me going. If I don't have my world, then there is no reason for there to be a world."

"What? You'd just let the world end if something happened to her?" Lila asked, slight concern in her tone

Five however didn't acknowledge the concern only the question. And that question had only one correct answer. The pain in his face washed away as a stoic expression took its place. Five's composure returned after his brief moment of weakness and in a steady tone, Five stated,

"Lila, I'd end it myself."

Lila silently blinked at him a few times. She definitely had heard him right the first time but the way he responded the second time sent a chill down her spine. She knew he meant what he said and she could see in his eyes the way he would scorch the earth if something happened to you. She didn't have to like you but it was in the best interest of both her and the rest of the world to make sure you stayed alive.

"But I don't know if you'd understand that because you're not exactly cut out for domestic bliss." Five said before turning around and walking towards the door on the opposite side of the room

Lila watched as he walked away before realizing what he had said. For a moment a sharp pain shot through her but quickly she pushed past it. Domestic bliss sounded so boring. Where was the fun in that? It was overrated and boring and the thought of it definitely made her want to puke.

"Course I'm bloody not. Thank God!" Lila shouted behind him

Following Five through the door, the two of them walked down a set of stairs into a dark hallway. Tipped-over filing cabinets and broken furniture littered the hall as they maneuvered their way around.

"I mean, maybe it's a tone thing? I don't know, but you could really work on, like, the way you speak. It's very... It's irritating." Lila commented as she followed behind "I'm just saying it's something you can work on, you know? For the future."

Five was not listening though as he spotted what they had come for up ahead. A sign that read Operations Bunker. A slight smile came to his face as he read it. He was getting closer to an answer. He was getting closer to fixing this and saving you. Noticing his smile, Lila asked,

"Why are you smiling, you little pisspot?"

"Cause of that." Five said gesturing to the sign

"Well, you could have led with that," Lila replied

The two of them looked at each other briefly before heading down the hall towards the door leading to where their answers may lie.

You and your friends however were on your way to sneak into one of the local clubs. After the incident you had in the thrift store, you all had driven around for a bit before deciding to go bowling at Super Star Lanes. It was of course a little odd being in the same place that you had last said goodbye to your friends before the world ended, but it also felt somewhat like a neutral ground. With some overpriced fries and lukewarm cans of soda, you finally let your friends comfort you from what had happened before as you all took turns bowling. Dean of course was in the lead, because he always was, but even so, you managed to have a nice time. Eudora asked you to have a good day and you were going to do so. Once, you had finished bowling and Dean inevitably won, you all hopped back in the car and headed back to Kenny's house to get ready.

All the clothes from the thrift store that could be thrown in the washer and dryer were, and for the ones that couldn't you used your powers to try and remove some of the grime that was probably in the fabric. When the washed clothes were dry though, you and the rest of your friends took to different rooms in the house to change into your outfits. As you stepped out of the guest room in the outfit you had picked from before, you saw Viktoria step out of the bathroom at the same time. She wore a flowy, long-sleeve, light blue blouse with a matching pair of flowy, light blue pants.

"Aw you look cute!" You complimented

"You do too!" she replied

Together the two of you walked downstairs to find everyone but Kenny waiting around. As you approached the group though, you took notice of the fact that Dean made the decision to keep the top 3 buttons of his shirt unbuttoned.

"What happened? Did you not pay for the rest of the buttons?" Viktoria asked sarcastically

"Ha-ha. You're so funny." Dean replied unamused "For your information, I happen to look good like this."

"Oh yeah," Viktoria stated sarcastically once more "I'm sure some lovely girl with parental issues will adore the distinct lack of chest hair."

Placing his hand over his chest, Dean looks shocked at her comment and looks to you for some backup, but instead, you turned your attention toward Bren and asked,

"Where's Kenny?"

"I don't know. Probably getting ready still." Bren answered, shrugging his shoulders "I'm his best friend, not his keeper."

"Are you sure about that?" You retorted

Bren looked at you before letting out a small sigh. He knew you were at least a little bit right. If he didn't keep track of Kenny then no one would. At least not to the same extent that is.

"I'll go get him." Bren stated as he walked back upstairs

From upstairs, you could hear Bren bang on a door and then say some words that you couldn't quite make out. However, whatever he said seemed to work as not even a minute later him and Kenny came back down the stairs. With the whole group together and ready to go, you headed out of Kenny's house and drive over to the club that you had snuck into back on Kenny's 16th birthday.

While the club wasn't in a bad part of the city, across the street and a few buildings over there was a very questionable bar nearby. The patrons there didn't take too kindly to anyone who wasn't white and the only reason you knew about it was that on occasion Diego would walk himself in there just to pick a fight with people. You wondered if Diego would head there again in this timeline, although you doubted it given he seemed so preoccupied with watching his "child". However, that didn't matter. You had no intention of worrying about Diego because it seemed he was having trouble worrying about you.

As you put your thoughts aside, Dean had finally stopped and parked the car on the street behind the club. Taking one quick look back at Kenny, you asked,

"You're sure this is what you want?"

"Yes." he answered confidently "My 16th birthday was the second most exciting day of my life. I want to relieve it."

"What was the first then?" Addison questioned

"My 18th birthday. I got to meet Klaus Hargreeves and we got shot at by time mercenaries. Very exciting." Kenny answered proudly

"Okay." You interjected "Let's just go before this conversation continues."

The rest of the group nodded their heads in agreement as you all stepped out of the car. The sound of pounding music could faintly be heard as you made your way to the back of the building. Up high on the wall, you all could see two small, rectangular, frosted glass windows. Although it was a while ago, you still could recognize these as the useless windows that were in the bathrooms of the club. The one on the left was shut, while the one on the right was open, and from inside it you could hear the sound of a few girl's voices seemingly giving someone a pep talk. You waited for a moment to hear the door open and shut before turning to your friends and quietly stating,

"We're going to do what we did last time. I'm going to check to see if the girl's bathroom is empty if it is. I will pull Viktoria, Addison, and Kenny through. Viktoria and Addison will go get us some booth or seating while Kenny is going to go into the men's bathroom and check if that is empty. If it's empty he's gonna jump and slap the window and I'll do the same thing for Dean, Lucas, and Bren. Then I show up and we're all together, got it?"

There was a cacophony of affirmations and head nods at your instructions.

"Good." You said before turning invisible and walking through the wall

Taking a look around the women's bathroom there was no one in the main area nor could you see any shoes on the floor inside the stalls. Seeing that the coast was clear you made yourself visible and stuck your arm through the bathroom wall you came through. You could feel as someone grabbed your hand and with a firm hold on them you pulled them through the way. Viktoria was the first to come through and after repeating the process twice both Addison and Kenny came in as well. You watched as the three of them walked out of the bathroom and with the door shut you went back outside the hang with the other three boys. It took a few minutes, but finally, the sound of Kenny's hand slapping the glass window came. And so one by one, you pushed the last three boys through the wall of the men's room.

With everyone else inside, you went invisible once more as walked through the wall into the women's bathroom. Instead of immediately becoming visible though, you walked through the bathroom door and over to the bar. Looking around you spotted the table where your friends sat and with the knowledge of where they were, you walked behind the bar and began to sneakily transport a few bottles of the high-shelf alcohol over. No one even knew you were there as you placed your hand on your choices and quickly made the bottles invisible. And after doing the same to a few glasses you floated them all over behind you before making them reappear on the table. While most would not consider it a point of pride, your ability to steal was beyond compare.

Your friends were slightly shocked at seeing the drinks appear but not surprised and within a few seconds of the drinks reappearing, so did you. Sitting down with the rest of your group, you began to let the drinks flow. Dean restrained from having too much to drink as he was the designated driver and he encouraged everyone to drink water like he was. And while most of the others relatively listened to his request, you felt less inclined to do so. You had a lot of up and down moments today and you wanted to take your mind off of them. And with each drink you consumed the more go with the flow you became. You were fine and it was just some harmless fun. You dragged your friends to the dance floor and as the music you loved and missed in the 60s played you were having the best time. The bass from the blasting music pounded through your system and for the first time since you found out that the world was ending, you felt good. You had your friends and you were having fun and all the drinks you were consuming were free. Time didn't matter and things literally couldn't be better.

As you continued to party though, things began to get a little fuzzy for you. You were aware of your surroundings, but things also became a little hazy. Maybe you were just tired from dancing. Deciding to take a seat for a bit, you started to walk back toward your group's table, but as you made it off the dance floor you could see a guy and girl off to the side. The guy was uncomfortably close, trying to offer her a drink while she continuously pushed it back. This couldn't be good. Turning on your heel, you walked over to the pair, putting yourself in between the two as you looked back at the girl and asked,

"Are you okay? Do you know this guy?"

"No. He's been following me for the past 20 minutes." The girl replied nervously "I've been trying to leave but he keeps following."

"Okay. You see the girl in the really sparkly jumpsuit and the guy that looks like a traffic cone over there," You say gesturing to the other side of the dance floor "Those are my friends and they can help you. I will deal with this creep."

The girl looked across the floor towards where Kenny and Addison stood before looking back at you. She hesitated for a moment, but as she did so the creepy guy grabbed at her wrist and tried to pull her toward him. And with that action, one of the "side effects" of your immense intoxication kicked in. When you got drunk, your impulse control typically lowered with each drink and right now it was at an all-time low. Without a second to think about it, you decked the guy right in his throat causing him to let go of the girl's wrist. You watched as she fled off across the place toward your friends but you had no intention to follow.

Instead, you turned back to the guy who was now doubled over and gasping for air and decided that one punch wasn't enough. There was no signal in your brain or body that this was a bad decision to make, but as so you turned away from making sure the girl got to your friends and back to him, he swung a fist up at you, upper-cutting your jaw.

You let your head lean back for a second as you could feel the impact still vibrating through your head and the taste of blood in your mouth from biting your cheek. Even if you weren't looking at him you could sense the smugness that seemed to radiate off of this guy. With your head still tilted back you began to laugh at the guy. He picked the wrong girl to fuck with and you were going to wipe his smugness away.

"What are you laughing at you bitch?" He demanded

Your head slowly tilted back down like that of a monster in a horror movie. A wide smile was on your face but the malice was evident in your eyes.

"You," you answered, your tone calm and collected "because you're going to die."

The guy looked at you disturbed for a moment before a flood of anger rushed through his system. The guy attempted to reach out and grab you, but instead he right through you. Quickly, you turned on your heel to look at him with that wide, creepy smile still on your face. He looked back at you confused but before he could rush you again, you took both of his hands in yours and used your powers to break them completely. Any bone that could break, did break. The guy dropped to his knees as he screamed in pain. Looking back up at you, the creep asked terrified,

"What are you?"

Your eyes began to glow a bright blue, and with that same malicious smile you stated ever so kindly,

"Karma."

While a sober version of you probably would've stopped at this point knowing that the guy was thoroughly terrified, currently you had no such restraint. And just like you had done to the Sparrows in your battle with them, you began to suck all the oxygen from this guy's body. Particle by particle, the guy began to wither and choke. The fear in his eyes was evident but as you continued, things started to get a little hazy. You shook your head a few times to try to clear things up, but it didn't do much to help and as you opened your eyes again you saw Dean standing in front of you with concern on his face. Looking down at the ground once more, you saw as the guy was beginning to crawl away as he gasped deeply for air. But before you could return to what you were doing, Dean grabbed ahold of your wrist and stated urgently,

"(Y/N). We need to go. NOW."

You looked around to see horrified faces on the people nearby where you were. Before you could react, he was already dragging you behind him as he ran through the crowded dance floor. But as your heart began to race, your vision began to blur. And as your friends ran out of an emergency with Dean dragging you along behind them, everything went black.

Following the corridors that ran underneath the Commission, Five and Lila made their way down an ever-winding series of hallways. It was quite tedious having to make their way to wherever this bunker was. Whoever this founder was, they sure didn't want anyone to find them unless it was absolutely necessary. Unfortunately, absolutely necessary was the situation they were in right now. The pair continued to walk until they were stopped by a sliding metal door. The sign above it read Operations Bunker, the same way that they had first seen leading this way. Five hoped that it was actually behind here and not another maze of hallways because he could feel himself getting thirsty from all the walking and with every step he could feel himself getting more and more paranoid. He didn't know why though. Nevertheless, Five grabbed onto the handle of the door and tried to pull, but god, it was heavy. Grabbing the handle with two hands instead, Five slowly managed to slide the door open, but once there was enough of a gap, Lila pushed her way past him curtly saying,

"Exsqueeze me."

Pushing his way through the door after her he replied annoyed,

"You're excused."

"Operations bunker," Lila said as she looked at the giant circular metal door

This had to be the place they were looking for, but as much as Five wanted to see for himself he couldn't focus because of all the itching he felt. His nails ran up and down the back of his neck as he leaned against the brick wall behind Lila, digging deeply as he tried to relieve the irritating sensation.

Stepping up closer to the door, Lila looked into the small darkened window. As she did so, a bright blue light shined and rotated in a clockwise motion scanning her. However, as the device beeped and the light faded away a loud buzzer sounded from the speaker above.

"We're screwed," Lila commented

"Unauthorized access." a robotic voice stated over the speaker

"Oh shit." Five replied as he continued to scratch his neck

Turning to look at Five for an idea of what to do next she noticed the state he was in. He paced back and forth, scratching the back of his head and neck as if his life depended on it. Loads of sweat covered his face giving it an uncomfortable shine under the dingy lighting.

"Jesus. You're sweating like a dodgy shrimp on ice. What's wrong?" She questioned

And with that question, something in Five clicked. The sweating, the thirst, the paranoia, and the occasional gas all started happening the minute they got close to this room. And the closer they made their way down the winding halls to where they were now, the worse it got. His eyes went wide as he quickly stepped forward towards the door and looked into the same opening that Lila had. The blue light, just as before, lit up and circled in a clockwise motion over Five's face before beeping. But instead of a loud buzzer over the speaker, it was instead a simple chime followed by the robot voice stating,

"Access granted."

"I guess you're essential personnel." Lila commented slightly disappointed

The two could hear the sound of the door unlocking before watching as it rolled off to the side allowing them to see into the room. The floor was all black tile that was clear enough it reflected the image of the room. The ceiling looked like it was entirely glass with lights behind it while the walls were made of all-white squares with light interspersed between every three rows. Immediately to their left, they could see three white globe-like seats with red insides that looked like they came from a 70's furniture catalog with a glass side table and white fur carpet to match. Bottles of alcohol sat on a serving tray on top of the table between the three chairs while a singular silver floor lamp stood behind in the corner. However, the main item of interest was some type of tube in the back of the room.

As Five and Lila stepped in, the lights on the ceiling became brighter, illuminating the entire room. The white walls and reflective floor making it that much brighter inside. But as Lila walked ahead and the door closed behind Five, he could feel his need to itch and his thirst and paranoia slip away.

As Lila looked in through the glass panels on the tube at who was supposed to be the founder of the commission, Five placed the briefcase and Master's handbook down on the side table.

"That's him, huh?" Five commented as he walked over toward Lila "The founder."

"Looks like tinned beef. I was expecting more man and less..." Lila stopped before tapping on the metal tube and commenting "...can.

Walking closer to the metal tube Five began to better see the man who lay on the table of the tube. The face stopped him in his tracks for a moment as his eyes went wide. Slowly, he inched closer and closer to the founder but as he stood next to them, Five's eyes blinked in confusion as he softly said,

"It can't be."

"What's wrong?" Lila asked

"It's me." Five replied quietly

This was him? The old, decrepit man being kept alive by some sort of commission contraption was him? There was a silent pause between the two of them before Lila broke out in laughter. She looked between the Five she was with and the one who lay on the table as she clapped in hysterics.

"No way. This whole time you've been complaining about the Commission, and you're the one who founded it. Classic." She snickered amused

"If I did, I have no memory of it." Five replied uneasily as he looked at his older self

"So here I was thinking you were a maverick, but you're a company man, down to the bone. I mean, you..." Lila continued to laugh "You literally cannot breathe without this place."

"Something's not right. I don't have paradox psychosis. I could feel it outside," Five said gesturing to the door before looking around the room "but in here, it's...nothing."

"Never were too bright, were we?" The sound of a rasping voice suggested

Both Five and Lila turned to look toward Founder Five as he looked back at the pair. His skin was wrinkled from years of age and his beard was long, gray, and unruly signifying no one had taken care of it in a while. The man on the table did not look well in the slightest. He looked like he was hanging by a thread in terms of his life left and with labored breathing, he continued to explain,

"The operations bunker is paradox-proof. I constructed it as a panic room in case of a collapse in the time continuum. In this room, all permutations of yourself can exist. You must be here because of a... Kugelblitz."

"Is that like a cheese blintz?" Lila asked confused

"It's German for ball of lightning." Five explained, "It's an extra kinky kind of black hole."

"The kind that can suck up entire timelines," Lila commented

"Or worse." Founder Five choked out

Five looked down at the ground. It was worse than just the timeline being sucked up. It was the kind of black hole that could cause strong energy disturbances. Granted any black hole that close would probably do so but this was on such a larger scale than that. Five felt like an idiot for not thinking of it as a possibility but at least now that he knew what it was he could finally figure out how to stop it. With a sense of renewed energy Five quickly asked,

"So, how do we fix it?"

"You don't." Founder Five replied raspily "You shouldn't have left."

"What?" Five questioned annoyed

Don't fix it? He shouldn't have left? That's ridiculous. Of course, he should fix it. He needed to fix it. He came all this way for answers on how to fix it! This didn't make sense. Out of all the people in the world to tell him not to fix it he never expected himself.

"No. If you created all of this, then you must have created a solution." Five snapped through gritted teeth

Founder Five coughed and gasped for air as he worked up the ability to reply to his younger self. Oh, how unaware he was. How easy it was for him to have a sense of purpose at this time. If only he knew what the future held and how painful it would be.

"All that will be left is...oblivion." Founder Five wheezed out

"Oblivion?" Lila asked leaning over the man, "What do you mean?"

With that question, the locks on the metal tube Founder Five was unlocked as the table he laid on slid out. Five and Lila looked at him in frustration and shock respectively. He looked frail and malnourished, his rib cage showing through his skin. And he was missing the lower part of his left arm.

"This is what you have coming. You are running out of time to change things." Founder Five said desperately

"Then tell me how to change it!" Five lashed out

"Go home." Founder Five answered weakly

Five had enough of this. He didn't know why this older version of himself was acting this way, but he wasn't going to tolerate it. Every second his older self spent beating around the bush about how to save the world was another minute he wasn't actively working on saving it. This version of him was being a prick and Five was tired of not having is answers he came so far for. Approaching the version of himself on the table, Five leaned in very close. With fire in his eyes and in a low, intimidating tone of voice, he ranted,

"Listen to me, you ass. I just spent the last 20 days running around saving the world from apocalypses, only to keep trying to save the world. I am losing my mind, my hormones are raging, and all I wanna do is go out and buy a 1970s Corvette Stingray that I can drive around in with my beautiful girlfriend."

For a moment, Founder Five's eyes went wide at the mention of you. And it was that quick action, that note of recognition that caught Five's attention and gave him an idea. If he wouldn't give the answer on how to save the world from destruction willingly then perhaps he would do so with a little emotional manipulation. Pulling out the Polaroid photo he had brought along with him from inside his jacket pocket he held it up in front of his older self's face.

"(Y/N)..." Founder Five whispered

"That's right, asshole. Look at her. Look at that beautiful woman. I had to leave her to bring my ass here to try and find out how to stop this thing. So if you love her the way I do, which if you're me then I KNOW you do, you will tell me how to stop this to save her!" Five yelled

There was a change in the man that lay on the table. Blinded by his anger and frustration, Five could not see it but Lila could. The minute young Five pulled out the photo of you, the light immediately disappeared from the eyes of the older Five. And although his face was mostly concealed by a long scruffy beard, it was easy to see the emotion that overwhelmed him, none of it positive. Lila could see slight tears form in his eyes as his chest began to heave. It was as if Five had broken through some type of barrier with his older self, but all it was doing was causing things to fall apart. Just minutes ago Five was expressing to her how if you didn't exist there would be no reason for him to go on, and now here lay an older version of him who looked so ready to let go seeing your face. Taking a step forward Lila reached out to put a hand on Five's shoulder as she commented,

"Take it easy on him, Five."

"Lila, this is between me and myself, so stay out of it." Five snapped at her before putting on a faux polite smile and adding "Thank you."

Turning back towards his older self, his anger didn't fade. Instead, it grew just as his frustration had been growing since the first time he had tried to fight against the end of the world. He wanted the cycle to be over. He came all this way for answers and by god he was going to get them.

"This Kugelblitz, it is not some tiny leak that we can simply fix by patching a couple of pinholes. It is a giant trash compactor that is grinding up the universe and consuming it whole. So tell me how you stop it!" Five shouted

"Whatever you do..." Founder Five began to choke out

The sound of the heart monitor began to beep rapidly and the sound of his breathing became ragged as Five and Lila watched in confusion.

"...don't save the world." He finished

For a moment the heart monitor beeped more rapidly before stopping altogether. The light of the room began to fade as the sound of the machines powering down could be heard. Five looked at his older self with wide eyes. He could feel his own heart begin to race at the sight before him. He still needed answers. Grabbing onto the metal of the table Five looked over the man who now lay still and hoping for some reaction pressed,

"What do you mean, don't save-"

But when none came, he shouted,

"Five! How do I fix this?"

Trying to cut short the inevitable realization that his older self had died, Lila placed two fingers on Founder Five's neck to try and find a pulse. As she expected though, there was none. Pulling her hand back, she knew she needed to rip off the and-aid and bluntly announced,

"He's dead, Five."

Dead? No. He couldn't be dead. This couldn't be happening. He- Five had survived so long it seemed impossible for him to die. And for him to die in such an unremarkable way? He had been through so much worse. So many other instances that could've killed him and yet they didn't. Not the terrible conditions of the apocalypse, not a bullet from a gunshot, not the end of the world. He just died. Of old age. Alone. Five looked on with a mix of sadness, and confusion, and fear. It felt almost impossible that this happened. His whole life it felt like he couldn't seem to die, not that he wanted to, but it didn't feel real. But there in front of him, another version of him lay dead. It was a lot to take in and he couldn't do this, at least not in front of Lila. He didn't meet her eye as he quietly asked,

"Can I have the room?"

"Er... I don't think I should leave you two alone." Lila responded

"Lila, I need the room." He emphasized

Lila stood there quietly for a moment. She didn't want to leave him, he had just witnessed himself die. That was a terrible thing to have hanging over you. She knew from experience watching the video of the handler shooting her over and over again. It still haunted her to see her lifeless body and that was through a screen on the infinite switchboard. It could only feel that much worse witnessing it in person. But as much as she thought it would be better to stay he would not be okay until she left, so without another word, she turned away and walked out the bunker door.

When the door finally closed once more Five let out a breath that he was holding in. His eyes turned up to the ceiling in an attempt to stop the water forming in his eyes from falling down. It took a moment, but with some semblance of composure he looked ahead once more mumbling under his breath,

"Son of a bitch."

Sadly, he looked over the corpse in front of him when he then noticed something on the chest of his older self. Stepping forward he quietly asked,

"What's this?"

Taking a closer look at it he saw it was a tattoo inked onto the skin. It was odd. He never saw himself as the type to get another tattoo, especially after how awful the first one was. But there was something about the odd symbol featured prominently on his chest that he felt he needed to look into. Pulling out the switchblade you had gifted him early he cut off the tattooed part of the skin to take with him.

Rolling up the cut-off skin, he placed it in the pocket inside of his jacket that didn't contain your photo. He knew it wasn't the best place to keep it, but he really didn't have any other option. Letting out a deep sigh, Five looked at the corpse of his older self. Wrinkled, alone, dead. Was this his future? And if it was why was it this way? What would cause him to spend the end of his life in as Lila described, a tin can surviving off of the place he despised most. He didn't understand but whatever this was, he couldn't let it be his future. He was going to change things this time. He had to. But as Five began to turn away, to leave this place and the sight of his lonely cadaver, he saw a glint of something.

Turning back to the body, he looked to try and spot what had caught his eye but with the main lights now mostly off it was a little more difficult. However, after a moment the emergency light caught just right and he could see the shine was coming from his older self's hand. Reaching out, Five opened the hand fully to find a key inside it. Picking up the item he inspected it closer. There was nothing too unusual about it. It looked just like any other key you would see for a house or safe or whatever except for one detail. On the part of the key that would not be inserted into a lock, there was an engravement, faded by time but still visible that read clé du monde.

Key to the world.

Five could feel a slight spark of hope reading the inscription. Key to the world. Maybe this would lead to the answers he was looking for. Perhaps his older self did not want to reveal how to stop the apocalypse with Lila around but knew he would find this with her gone. Looking away from the key, he searched for where this would go. If he had held onto this while stuck in this room then the lock it went to couldn't be far. As his eyes scanned the four walls he saw something different in the back corner, a cabinet with small frosted glass doors built into the wall. Leaving his older self's side he walked towards them and just as he expected he found a lock to slide the key in. Without hesitation, Five inserted the key into the lock and clicked it open with a single twist. Opening the doors, Five expected to find piles of documents, reports, or any information relating to a kugelblitz and how to stop it, but the sight he was met with caught him off guard.

Instead of information, he was met with a cabinet full of items related to you. As he looked about the cabinet he saw things he recognized instantly. On the lowest shelf sat your diary, the teddy bear he had given you on your friendaversary, and the music box he gifted for your 13th birthday. But as he continued to look at the items, he saw stuff that confused him. Sitting on the middle shelf were a watch and knife that looked exactly like the ones you had gifted him earlier. Lifting up his wrist he looked between the watch on the shelf and the one he currently wore before pulling the knife out of his pocket and looking at it too. Back and forth he inspected the items until he could no longer deny that they were the exact same.

Five's heartbeat began to pick up slightly. Why were these items here? Looking back to the middle shelf he then saw six distinct Polaroid photos. Grabbing at them he looked through them one by one, his heart sinking more and more as he realized they were the same photos from earlier today. Dropping the photos in shock, they scattered the floor below. His eyes darted across the objects as he tried to come up with some type of explanation, one that avoided the terrible thoughts forming in his mind. And as his eyes searched the cabinet for some type of rationale, he finally noticed an envelope taped to the inside of the door.

Snatching it off the door he immediately opened it. This had to have some explanation. Something that would elaborate on why these things were here, but surely not for the reason he thought. Pulling the paper inside out quickly he opened it up and began to scan the words on the page.

Dear Alternate Self,

I can only assume that it's you as I would never willingly let anyone else access this cabinet and especially since the rarest of people would be able to access this room to begin with. If you are reading this that means I must have finally been released from the torment that is my existence. As you know, these objects you find here are the most important in the universe. They are the key to the world. My world. Our world. I don't know if you will recognize each item yet, but I promise they hold more value than anything else. You may be confused, but they are the reason this building, this organization, exists. I built this place to fix my mistakes. To try and make things right this time. And this bunker was made to keep me safe from any apocalypse but more so these irreplaceable items safe from harm so they will never be lost to time the way I let her be.

Five's hands began to shake as he processed the words on the page. He could feel the fearful adrenaline course through his veins as he read over what his other self had written to him.

"No." Five said in disbelief

This couldn't be real. It couldn't be true. There had to be something else here. Something that negated all the words above. Something to make the letter a red herring of sorts. Quickly, his eyes ran down the page as he read on.

However, if by some chance the person reading this note is you my beloved (Y/N), probably as a version of you from a different timeline than my own, I want you to know how much I loved you. I didn't realize it then but I loved you from the minute I met you. I loved you every moment of my life. I loved you til your last breath. And I continue to love you every minute beyond that no matter how painful it is.

"God. Please. No." Five silently begged in the empty room

I have many regrets that I cannot fix, but my biggest is not asking you one very important question. But I won't because it's not my place to do so now. I failed you in my time, and I will never forgive myself for it. Although it may not make sense, I feel this, the Commission, is the only way now that I can hope to fix something. Although I'd still prefer to keep them forever safe here, you can take any of the items if you like. My physical and mental state have deteriorated more and more each day without you but I hope that by the time you are reading this, I'm with my version of you dancing together among the stars. It seems this world wasn't made for us to be together but perhaps the next one will be.

The shaking Five had felt in his hand spread to the rest of his body. His chest began to clench as his breathing became labored and erratic. It felt like the world was spinning. His legs shook under him as the weight of the grief overcoming him pulled him to the ground. His knees gave out as the letter and envelope both fell from his hands. But as the envelope hit the floor, he could hear the tiniest clink from it.

With his mind still in overdrive, he immediately snatched the envelope up and flipped it over, but as the item fell into his hand everything stopped. Time was frozen and for a second he forgot how to breathe as he stared at the pristine golden locket in his hand. He knew this was your locket. Not only because of the condition it was in but inside it held a very young picture of him. He recalled you explaining how you had cut it out of a newspaper article about the academy's missions. But he also knew that between this and the letter from his older self, his worst fears had come true. He failed somehow. And you died because of it. But it wasn't the locket itself that had made him stop.

It was the ring that hung on the chain that stopped him in his tracks.

Gently undoing the clasp of the necklace he slid the ring off the chain and held it in his other hand. It was perfect. The ring was made of a sturdy metal that wouldn't tarnish easily and the diamonds on it sparkled brightly even in the dimmer lighting. It was exactly how he had envisioned it. Exactly how his now-deceased self envisioned it. He was going to ask his version to marry him. But he didn't. He never got the chance.

However, the longer Five stared at the ring he could feel the temporary numbness wear off and his adrenaline return. He was going to change things. This scene before him was not going to be his future. He was not going to make the same mistakes as the man who died before him. He was going to save the world, he was going to keep you from harm, and he was going to change his future.

Picking himself up from the ground, he put the ring in his pocket before walking over to the body on the table. Placing the locket in the hand where he had first found the key, he slowly closed it, making a tight fist that would hold onto it forever. With one last look at his dead counterpart, he tried to push all the terrifying thoughts that wracked his mind out of his brain. Turning on his heel he made his way to the door worried about if you were currently safe but also determined to make things right this time. As the door to the bunker opened, Five grabbed the briefcase off the table before he quickly walked out and past Lila who was leaning against a wall.

"You good?" Lila called "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Get your powers warmed up." Five demanded as he continued walking "We need to find a power source and we need to go."

"A please would be nice, y'know." She remarked

"Now, Lila." Five snapped

"Fine, you little twat." Lila grumbled

Lila didn't know what had occurred in there while she was outside, but whatever it was, it was affecting Five greatly. Although annoyed, she let it slide. Everyone grieved differently and if he was going to be rude then she wasn't even going to try to help his feelings right now. Not that she really cared about his feelings. With a small huff, she began to follow behind him as they searched to find a power source to get home.

As for you, the sounds of the world started to come into focus just as your eyes adjusted to your surroundings. No longer was there the sound of pounding music and screams nor the sight of flashing neon lights. Instead, it was replaced with the dim shine of old lightbulbs, mild chatter, and old rock music. Your head felt heavy and as it tilted downward you saw you were sitting on a chair. The last thing you remembered, you weren't sitting down. Dean grabbed your wrist as you all fled the nightclub you snuck into after getting into a fight. Your head felt like it was spinning as you took in the surroundings. There was a dusty bar across the way and a pole dancer in the middle of the room you were in. A line of motorcycles sat in a row outside the building and as you forced your head to look up you saw a ceiling filled with metal rafters. Where were you? As your vision cleared fully and your head stopped pounding so much you managed to look around and see Viktoria standing next to you. Grabbing onto the fabric of her romper you tugged at it as best as you could to get her attention.

"Yeah?"

"Where are we, Vi?" You asked

"Remember how when we left City Hall we decided we wanted to do something that connected us together?" Viktoria asked

You went to City Hall? When? It was around 8 pm when you went to the club and you were there for some time so City Hall was definitely closed. Did you all break into a government building? Why? For what? What did you need to do in there that was so important it had to be done at the latest hours of the night? Confused and hoping for some elaboration you answered,

"No."

"Well, Kenny brought us here to this bar where they ask no questions and will tattoo minors since Lucas and Addi aren't 18 yet," Viktoria explained "So we're all getting matching tattoos. Thematically matching, at least."

That was not the elaboration you were hoping for. You were all getting tattoos? What were you getting tattoos of? What was the theme? What the fuck was going on? You had no clue where you were or how you got there. It was almost like time travel except for the fact that you could actually remember the times that you time traveled. If you could just get some clarity then maybe you would feel a little better about where you were now. Trying to understand the situation you asked,

"Did we just get here?"

"No, we've been here for a while now silly," Kenny commented placing a hand on your shoulder "Seems like someone had a bit too much to drink at the club, eh?"

You looked towards Kenny to shoot him a look but as you turned your head you saw an image on his wrist that extended up a part of his forearm. It was a skull surrounded by Red Spider Lily and Gomphrena flowers with two snakes coming out of the eye sockets twisting together like the Caduceus medicine symbol. The tattoo was wrapped in saran wrap with tape to stop it from opening. It was a little jarring seeing it since only a few hours ago he didn't have it but it looked cool as hell though.

"That's dope as fuck." You complimented pointing at the tattoo

"Thanks! The people who tat here might look scary but their art is beautiful." Kenny replied "I had a girl named Queenie do mine. She liked all the symbolism I told you about."

"Sorry, I don't recall." You said giving him an apologetic smile

"Ah shit, right." He replied before pointing at the image on his skin

"Red Spider Lilies symbolize death while Gomphrena has been known to symbolize immortality. The skull kinda adds to the life and death motif but the snakes intertwining are just for the health symbol because ima little medicine boy." Kenny explained

"Cool, so is it just you or did anyone else get tattooed yet?" You asked

Your friends, minus Kenny who had already clocked your semi-blackout state, all looked at you confused.

"Don't you remember Dean asking if you would hold his hand while he got tattooed because he felt a little nervous?" Addison inquired

"You make it sound like I was nervous because of the tattoo. I'm not a loser who is scared of needles." Dean interjected, "I was nervous because in the first timeline, I beat that guy in a street race when he challenged me and then he threatened to kill me when I won."

"Well, he doesn't know you in this timeline so you were fine," Addison remarked

"Yeah, well, having my super-powered sister made me feel a lot better." Dean replied back "The tattoo is dope though, I'll give him credit for that. But also we had a whole conversation with the guy about ways they could improve sunscreen to make it feel less gross when you apply it which I did find odd."

You held Dean's hand when he was getting his tattoo? And had a whole conversation about sunscreen? These felt like things you should've remembered but right now those memories were hazy at best. You could only hope that somehow your brain would move them from short to long-term memory so when you woke up tomorrow you would know what the hell has happened.

"Oh yeah, Axel has always been passionate about that." Kenny mentioned, "At least from what I recall the last time around."

"So how many of you have gotten your tattoos?" You asked

"All of us but you (Y/N)," Lucas answered holding out his wrist

On it, you saw what looked like a Grecian vase depicting Hercules slaying the Hydra. Between Kenny's tattoo and now Lucas' you were starting to get the theming that Viktoria didn't clearly mention earlier.

"Y'know I still think you're a coward for not letting Herc have a dick and balls," Dean commented

"How many times do I have to explain to you that you literally wouldn't see it from that angle!" Lucas exclaimed "And anyway it's MY tattoo on MY skin. If I don't want a dick on there, then there won't be one!"

"Lame," Kenny replied

"Oh fuck you guys," Lucas remarked

Dean and Kenny snickered with each other. You knew that their teasing was meaningless and based on the smirk that Lucas was trying to hide, he knew so too. Looking around you wanted to see what everyone else had gotten embedded into their skin.

"What about you guys?" You said gesturing between Dean, Addison, and Viktoria "What did you get?"

You could see Dean's eyes light up as he stepped in front of Addison and Viktoria and held his wrist out toward you stating loudly,

"I got this sick ass bow and arrow!"

He was correct. It was a sick ass bow and arrow that was overlaid on top of a circle target. And with your brother's reveal, you could definitely solidify the fact that the connecting theme the group was going for was tattoos symbolizing each of yourselves but more specifically your nicknames. Necrotic, Hercules, and now Marksman.

"Very cool, Dean." You said smiling before adding "Now can you please get out of the way of the girls."

"Fine." Dean huffed

Addison and Viktoria stepped forward as they held both their wrists out to you as well, albeit a little less aggressively than Dean just did. On Addison's, you saw three minimalist sparkles all in a row. It was simple, elegant, and a nice nod to her nickname Spotlight. And then on Viktoria there was a nice image of a viola with a small line of sheet music underneath. As you read them your hand instinctively moved as if you were playing the notes on the piano. D, A, G sharp, G. You stopped. You recognized those notes.

"Megalovania? Really?" You asked disappointed but unsurprised

"Yeah," Viktoria answered proudly

"Why?" You pressed

"I thought it was funny," She responded

You put your face in your hands for a moment as you laughed. Your friends could be so dumb but you loved it so much. And hey, if that's what she wanted to represent her nickname Sonata, so be it. As you looked around though you realized one of your friends was missing.

"Where's Bren?" You asked

"Right behind you!" Bren exclaimed, "I just finished my tattoo!"

"Congrats, you survived," Dean replied

"What did you get?" Lucas asked

"Nothing crazy. Just two whips, one above the other." Bren replied as he held up his wrist

The group looked at it, and while it was true that it was just two whips he failed to mention that the actually whippy part of each spiraled into cursive that spelled out half of his nickname. The top whip spelling out, well, whip, and the lower one spelling out lash. As you were about to compliment the creativity of Bren's tattoo though, The most stereotypical biker-looking man walked over with a woman and another man behind him. As he approached Kenny you could hear him say,

"Hey, Kid. Me, Jet, and Queenie are done. We wanna drink."

"But what about my friend, Axel?" Kenny questioned, "She's the only one of us left."

"And we gave you money for all of us!" Addison chimed in

"Stop your whining." The guy who you could only assume was Jet remarked "We might look shady to you from your ivory tower but fair is fair here. Your friend will get her ink."

You could see that Addison was slightly annoyed by the comment but kept her mouth shut. The last thing you all needed was for Addison's attitude to cause her to try doing some of her psychology shit here. As Lucas wrapped an arm around his girlfriend's waist to calm her down, the woman named Queenie stated,

"Yeah, we got another guy who just finished up and can take your friend. Down the hall, behind the employees-only door."

"Oh okay," Kenny said

"And Kid, don't ask me for anything else." Axel added

"Yeah, I won't." Kenny replied, "Enjoy your drinks."

With that, the three biker adults walked away from your group of friends and across the place to the bar. Your friends then turned to look at you.

"Alright (Y/N), you heard the man." Bren commented, "Down the hall and then behind the employees-only door."

"Um...okay I guess." You replied slowly standing up from your seat

You looked between the group and then down the hall toward the employees-only door. You weren't nervous to go get a tattoo but you also didn't quite know what to expect. When the Umbrellas had gotten their tattoos it was forced upon them and it seemed like they were all in pain when you found out about them. You still were a little hurt that Five made his siblings lie to you about their tattoos even existing because he knew it would upset you. But these tattoos were by choice, they were meaningful in a good way and it looked like everyone here did so well. But you couldn't remember anything up until recently so you couldn't be sure. Turning away from your friends you looked down the hall once more.

"Do you want me to come and hold your hand?" Dean asked placing a hand on your shoulder

You looked back over your shoulder at him. You could do this. Whatever hesitancy you had was nothing compared to all the things you had faced before. With a little more confidence you replied,

"No. I think I'll be okay."

Stepping forward, Dean pulled his hand off your shoulder and you began to walk down the hall to the door. From behind you, you could hear Viktoria call out,

"Ask for us if you need us!"

You looked back and nodded your head but continued on. As you walked your eyes shifted between all the people at the place you were at and while they gave you a passing glance they didn't really seem to care either. Making it to the door, you pushed it open and entered the room. As you did so you saw a chair to sit in, in the middle of the room but couldn't see the person who was supposed to tattoo you. Nevertheless, you walked toward the chair and sat down waiting for the person to show up. As you sat down, the metal of the seat squeaked followed by the sound of a door opening and closing behind you.

"What are you looking to get?" The voice asked as it approached

But as they stood beside you, you cocked your head to the side in confusion and quietly asked,

"Pogo?"

It had to be Pogo you had never seen another walking, talking, primate before. They looked exactly like him and sounded like him too. It had to be. You didn't speak as you processed your thoughts staring at him while he looked back. But after a moment you tried to explain,

"It's been so long I don't know if you recognize me but I'm-"

"Ms. (Y/N)," Pogo interjected taken aback

"Yeah." You replied quietly

Just as you were in disbelief so was Pogo. To him, you were like a legend more than you were real. Of course, he had remembered you briefly throughout his early days. You would read to him or play beautiful music on the piano. But more so he recalled you from all the times that Sir Hargreeves mentioned your name and the portrait that hung on the wall over the fireplace until it was switched after Master Benjamin's incident. It was impossible to forget who you were.

"So it was true then when Sir Hargreeves said you would come back one day?" Pogo questioned softly

You grimaced slightly at the question. You didn't like the way that Reginald had used you as some type of god to worship in an effort to control the Sparrows. How they had to work harder because you would come back and be better than them. Sure you were better than them, but the perspective he instilled in everyone was wrong. It wasn't who you were. But that wasn't the question you were asked though and so you stated,

"He's been wrong in many ways but in that instance, yes, he was correct."

Pogo looked at how your face contorted when he asked you about Sir Hargreeves. Even at his young age, he could remember sensing the placated animosity. All along you had known how awful Reginald was. If only he could've seen the truth sooner. However, feelings about Reginald aside, he wondered why you would be here at the bar of a notorious biker gang requesting a tattoo. You didn't seem the type.

"What are you doing in a place like this?" Pogo asked

"I could ask you the same thing." You replied

You never expected to see Pogo dressed in a leather jacket and jeans working as a tattoo artist for a biker gang. And yet here he was. You could see the way he now grimaced and his body tensed at the thought of whatever led him to be here.

"Sir Hargreeves and I had some disagreements over his treatment and training of the Sparrow Academy and when I voiced them he kicked me out. It was tough at first but I found a home here with the Mothers of Agony." Pogo explained, the resentment obvious in his tone

Once again Reginald Hargreeves was the sole cause for so many people's misery. He was like Ronald Reagan except instead of ruining an entire country he managed to ruin entire timelines with his actions.

"And yourself?" Pogo asked

You let out a deep sigh. Typically you told your story with such candor, and a level of humor in your tone as you explained every detail. But the story, your story, it wasn't funny. You only tried to make it sound funny because then you didn't have to deal with how awful it truly was. But you were tired of it now. So tired of the cycle of loss and misery and trying to rebuild your life. Could you not just fully be happy? Were you cursed to build your happiness back up only to have it come toppling down again?

"That bad, huh?" Pogo asked

"I won't bore you with the details as it's far too long and a bit too sad of a story to tell. But in short, I found out that a black hole is consuming the world, my boyfriend went god knows where with someone who was trying to kill him two days ago to try and stop the black hole, and everyone I loved has either died or left, minus those six kids outside this room." You explained sadly "And now I don't even know how I got here but I guess I'm here to shove ink into my skin in some meaningful way.

You saw as Pogo looked at you, although he looked like a hardened biker, that there was sadness and sympathy on his face. It was the exact same look that the Pogo you had grown up with gave you on occasion. Somehow there was a comfort in knowing that although the timeline was different he was still himself.

"I'm sorry that you've faced so much misfortune recently," Pogo said

"Same to you." You replied, "It seems like neither of us has expected to be where we are."

"Life will never be easy for those who are different, like us. No matter how green the grass may seem..." Pogo replied

He paused for a second, a grimace upon his face as he reflected back on his own life.

"...or how rose-tinted our glasses are." He continued "The best we can do is survive."

"I don't want to keep surviving. I want to live." You emphasized "But when I envision the future right now all I can see is well...a black hole."

You used to have plans for your life. Things to look forward to, things to work towards, things to hope for, but since the night at the consulate, your hope had been continuously dwindling. It was starting to feel reckless to hold onto hope especially since it was in such short supply. All you seemed to have to hold onto were the people you surrounded yourself with and even then some of them were harder to keep around than others. Leaning your head back on the headrest of the tattoo chair you looked blankly at the ceiling. But then you felt a gentle hand rest on top of your own. Looking over you saw that Pogo gave you a sympathetic look as he calmly stated,

"Dear child, as much as we want to, we will never know what comes next. The future will always be a dark void that we like to hang pretty pictures of what we're expecting in front of to stop it from scaring us."

"So what am I supposed to do?" You asked, "Just conscientiously object life itself?"

"No, you don't do that until you know in your heart it's the right option." Pogo replied, "Focus on what have now, not what you don't yet."

You stopped for a moment and thought about his words. He was right, all you could do was focus on what you had now. And that was your friends. It was already your intention to focus on them but the advice solidified it even more. You needed them and you were theirs because each other is all you had left in this world that was heading for the meat grinder.

"Thanks, Pogo." You thanked quietly

"You know Ms. (Y/N), even though I was young, I still remember how kind you always were. Your love is your strength and I only hope you don't let what you've faced take that away from you." Pogo stated "I already watched the Sparrows lose much of their light to this world and what it put them through. It would pain me greatly to find you facing the same fate."

You gave him a small smile, one that was reminiscent of acknowledging an old friend even though you didn't have much in common anymore. That knowing smile that someone cared even if they didn't play a major role in your life anymore.

"I'll give it my best as long as you promise me you'll do the same." You answered

"Then I'll give it my best too, Ms. (Y/N)," Pogo replied, his small smile reflecting yours "Now, you came here for a tattoo so the least I can do is give you one. It is my current profession after all."

"Oh, right," You said surprised

You had almost forgotten that was the reason you were here in the first place. You and your friends were all getting spontaneous thematic tattoos. As you watched him start to fully set up his equipment you thought about what you would want. Everyone had their tattoo related to their nickname but you wanted it to mean more than just that. As Pogo finished setting up his equipment he turned his attention back to you as he asked,

"Do you have anything particular in mind or just a concept?"

"I do think have an idea," You replied "Do you have something I can draw it with?"

Pogo nodded as he pulled out a small notebook and pen before handing it over to you. You were still a little tipsy from the events of the night thus far but you managed to draw down your idea. Although, not as neat as you would've liked. Handing the notebook and pen back to him you gestured to the drawing and said,

"That, but with y'know with crisper, neater line work."

"Of course. It's an interesting drawing," Pogo commented "Does it have meaning?"

"Yeah. A lot." You softly answered before asking "Can you do it?"

"Of course, I can Ms. (Y/N)," Pogo replied confidently

"Let's get started then." You said

Sitting back in the chair, you looked at your left wrist where for years no image had been placed upon it, not even a drawing in Sharpie. Somehow every time you thought about the possibility of getting a tattoo your mind went right back to all the Hargreeves and the idea turned you off. But now you realized that you didn't like their tattoos because they were kids and didn't have a choice. It was like an impersonal branding that was shoved into their skin against their will. But you, you had a choice and the image you chose had meaning. You loved the Hargreeves but this was different. You were different. And the drawing actually stood for something good. Something personal and filled with love. You looked at the blank skin one last time as the tattoo needle pressed into your wrist leaving the beginnings of your image. It didn't hurt, maybe because your senses were already a little numb or maybe because you weren't afraid. Either way, the vibration of the machine felt neutral and so you closed your eyes and let Pogo do his work as you let your hesitations fade away.

Darkness turned into clarity as you blinked your eyes rapidly to focus on what was happening. You could feel the wind blowing in your face as some of your hair brushed against your skin. The sounds of your friends' joyful screams and shouts echoed around you as you looked around. With a large smile on his face, Dean was flooring the car down an empty backroad loudly complimenting his car Veronica for how fast she was going. Kenny and Bren shouted happily as they both leaned themselves out of the back left window. Lucas and Addison were making out as if the world was ending which, you had no problem with because it was. And Viktoria was laughing like a maniac even though it looked like she was about to be sick. You smiled as you took in the sights and sounds of your friends. They were so happy. You all were so happy together.

As you looked around you looked down at your wrist to see the tattoo you had drawn on the paper for Pogo now embedded into your skin. You remembered the needle pressing into your skin but after that, it became a blur. You couldn't remember anything else you might have talked about. You couldn't remember if you thanked him. If you said goodbye and gave him a hug. If you told him that he mattered to you still and for him to be safe.

You hoped you did.

Looking at the image, it was a circle with two smaller circles intersecting it on either side kind of like a Venn diagram. The large middle circle had eight equally distant lines sticking out of it with the two lines at the 9 and 3 positions going through the side circles cutting them in two. The three interlocking circles were reminiscent of a three-ring circus a reference to your nickname Ringmaster the way the others had gotten tattoos representing their nicknames.

But the tattoo had more meaning than that as each part represented someone in your life. The large circle in the center was you. The two intersecting circles on the sides represented your parents while the four smaller sections within those circles represented both Umbrella Academy Grace and 1960s Grace, and Eudora with a spot left open that you were unsure if you were going to assign yet or not. You were still working on those feelings. And then there were the 8 lines. ^ represented the friends you were with now, one was for Charlie, and the last was for Five. Although you hoped one day that perhaps the lines could also represent the seven umbrellas plus yourself. But that didn't seem likely and you were far happier with the thought process you had now.

You were happy now.

Overall, things weren't perfect. There was a lot that was wrong both with you and the world. But that didn't matter because at least the moments you were in right now were perfect and you wouldn't change them in the slightest. And so you were happy.

You had no clue what was going on at this point but honestly, it didn't matter. You were with your friends and you only hoped that these last five days of existence with them would feel like a lifetime.

______________________________________________________________

Taglist: @xplrreylo @joebob15274 @insatiable-ivy @fruitsaladtree @angelpeachamber @academy-umbrella @lizziel1410 @ir3neeee @faith-quake @aliens-with-colas @sunsetcurve-1995 @lady-celeste25 @im-dead-and-hurting @nerdypinupcrystal @cherry-ki-d @anapocalypseinmymind @vicassa @2cuteforyourlies @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @shadowycreationcupcake @emily-hargreeves @metor-showers1994 @fivehargreevesforthewin @rinko-san @supernovavision @cicilisthebest @flickbix @hi-v-juice @magykal-777 @zosiaduda @thethirdwheelfriend @mysticracoon @isnt-it-loverly @officiallydarkgeek @lady1505 @always-the-very-worst @tinypandagirl @libidinexx @lemongrabbuns @itwasallred @deadandoverit @shlokage @keksi249 @theoriginalkat @we-stan-fiction @bi-idiot-fanfics @annnagennnie @izzyjojo4 @megasimpleplan4ever @flowertoty @grabthemoneyandletsgo @itsametaphorbriansblog @vanillacaramelhoney @satvaldiva @disaster-magician @margotsfandoms @emily-b-m @bluechildrenlickmytoes @soft-slytherin-sweetie @oceanspray5 @im-here-for-fanfics @thebloodrobin @freestarlight @starcurrent @lilacs-lavender @moatsnow @give-the-boy-a-hug @narikyuwu @whenyouregrungeaff @gabriella-aesthetic @xxtwizztedxx @instabull @emma-jopeth @justsomecreaturewandering @wifeofcamillamacaulay

#the umbrella academy #tua #umbrella academy #tua five hargreeves #five hargreeves x you #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves #five hargreeves fanfic

79 notes · View notes