#ben hargreaves imagine

[itstheghostofmypast]

Five: If there is one thing I'm thankful for it's-

Diego: Your family?

Klaus: Bloodshed?

Luther: Alcohol?

Victor: Coffee?

Five:...

Y/N: Guys...can we please exchange our vows without interruptions?

Ben *hands Five a gun* arent you glad I'm your best man?

[mynicknameisgasoline]

Incorrect Quotes pt. 2/3???

1.

y/n: Why are Klaus and Ben sitting with their backs to each other Luther: They had a fight. y/n: Then why are they holding hands? Luther: They get sad when they fight.

2.

y/n's helping Ben out after he got injured, while the others are watching Diego (Bc he cant see Ben and only Klaus and y/n can) : How does Ben look? Klaus: A little better than you, actually.

3.

Klaus: Gently taps table Ben: Taps back y/n (doesn't know morse code): What are they doing? Diego (knows morse code since he's batman): Morse code. Klaus: Aggressively taps table Ben: Slams hands down YOU TAKE THAT BACK-

4.

Klaus: Am I going too far? Ben: No, no, no. You went too far about seven hours ago. Now you're going to prison. y/n (already in prison): PRISON BUDDIES!

5.

y/n: God, give me patience. Ben: I think you mean 'give me strength'. y/n: If God gave me strength, you'd be dead. Ben: ... y/n: OH SHIT I DIDN'T MEAN IT IM SORRY!!!!

[theprenderelliepalace]

Not Her

☆•Five x Reader•☆

TAU S4 AU

Summary: Imagine you're the version of Dolores that kept Five sane when he got stuck in the future for 45 years, but you died before Five could save you. So what will he do when your face is the first he sees on the infamous train of time?

Warnings: Grammatical errors, s4 spoilers(!), mentions of character death, no use of y/n, cannon divergence (thank gosh), mentions of self-h*rm, enemies to you know what, angsty central, fighting, swearing etc.

Words: 2.1k (enjoyed writing this a little too much)

•☆•

You could barely remember why you landed up in this neverending subway station anymore. Time after time, arriving at the same moment, it became numbing. The rattling of the train on the tracks an aching lull that pulled you into the darkest corners of your mind. Your dreams were fitful and strange, swirling shapes howled around you, calling you, shaming you.

You woke with a start. The train was at a standstill again, you could make out the debris of another apocalyptic timeline beyond the hazy glass of the cabin. The doors opened, you sighed, your head falling against your knees. You considered the end then. The blissful hum of death beckoned you more than you'd ever known before. The same moment over and over, you couldn't go on like that... It only took a moment, you thought, for it to be done.

Suddenly you heard a noise. A voice. You looked up, startled. It was a man's voice, calling out into the station. Your first instinct is to reach for the knife strapped to your boot. Your hand quivers over the handle, you duck under the benches, inching towards the door. You hide beside the door, waiting for intruder to take his first steps into the cabin. You'll surprise him, it'll be quick and painless.

You itch for the conflict, it's something new, something different from the mundane station to station. It's almost exciting. Being trapped down here for so long, you've forgotten the horror you used to feel for the art of killing. You almost laugh, but steal yourself. Your favorite person in the world used to say that. Like it was a sport. You used to hate him for that, the very notion disgusted you.

Except now, you weren't any different from the Five Hargreeves you'd come to love and hate in the tumbling pattern of a toxic relationship you'd run away from.

The doors slid open. You readied yourself, shifting on your haunches. He stepped fully onto the train, the doors sliding closed behind him, sealing his fate. You artfully stepped out from your hiding place. Your breath hitched, your footsteps dead-silent. You lunged.

Your opponent was too slow. His surprise would be your advantage. You slammed him against the opposite bench. Pressing your knife to his throat. You used your weight to leverage him, ensuring he was ensnared I'm your trap. You made to swipe your wrist, ending his life, but you faltered.

"Fi-Five?" You croak. Your eyes widened, your breath shook. He pushed you off him, sending you hurtling into the doors of the train. You slammed into them with a force that took your breath. You crumpled to the floor. The shock of the blow rendering you dumbstruck.

"Who the hell are you?!" He yelled. His eyes were the eyes you dreamed of so many nights, those loving eyes, those terrifying eyes. They looked at you with so much contempt now. "Talk. Now. Or you die." You hadn't registered him pulling out a small caliber 45 from the holster at his waist. He pointed it straight at your head, unwavering.

"Five..." You sounded desperate, you hated yourself for it, but the need to have him close to you, to be your Five, it was all consuming.

His eyes flickered. His hands shook. "Why do you look like her?" He whispered. You were sure the question wasn't meant for you, but in that moment all yours were answered.

You carefully raised your hands over your head, getting shakily to your feet. "I'm not your version of her." You lowered your head, the false hope that this man had been your Five was shattered, your heart became heavier than before, almost like you lost him all over again. "And you're not him..." You whispered.

"Dolores?" He sounded so confused, so hurt.

You glanced up at him. "I don't go by that anymore. It- it was too painful." You shouldn't be telling this Five anything about yourself, but you can't help it, he's that sick son of a bitch any way you look at him and he's also the man you'd die for twice on Sundays. You can't help the way your heart pulses uncomfortably in your chest as his gaze bores into your soul.

Your new name roles off his tongue like bile. He spits at you like he's angry you made him say it. His gun is quivering in his hands. You can tell his resolve is crumbling. His eyes are wild but still searching yours, willing you to be telling the truth.

You take a daring step towards him, suddenly feeling slightly braver. You shouldn't get involved, you should kill him and forget this ever happened. You should make him hold you again. You're so conflicted it's making your head spin. You reach his outstretched hands, he's watching you so closely it's making you squirm, but he's motionless save for his hands.

You place a gentle palm over the gun, lowering it. He watches you with overflowing sadness. You suddenly think that he must wish you were the right version of you just as badly. He must long for your touch in the same way, dream of your absence the same way you do. He's breathing heavily as your bodies touch, only for a moment but moments feel like lifetimes to you now.

"What is this place?" He chokes, eyes still boring into yours.

"It's a kind of waypoint. The same moment in time across an infinity of timelines." You pause, your hand still gently resting over his. "You need to get off the train Five." You say it like you don't really register the words leaving your mouth and then suddenly it clicks. You grip his hands hard, he pulls back. "You need to get off this train. NOW."

You grab his forearm and begin to pull him towards the doors, they open as you get closer when suddenly he pulls away from you again. You turn to watch him shake his head, his dark hair falling into his eyes. "What about you?"

"I don't matter! Five, if you don't blink out of here now... you'll... you'll be stuck here forever." He's standing there as stubbornly as stone, brows furrowed. "Please Five. Please do this for me!" You gasp as you realize tears are streaming down your cheeks.

"But you-"

"I'm not her! Don't make that mistake. Please, if you ever cared about your version of me, you'll go back to honor her." You interrupt.

"What's honor without a little daring?" He smiles, like he's letting you in on a joke you don't understand.

The train begins to rattle beneath your feet. The strange echos of the voice over the loud speaker begins to boom overhead. You look at him pleadingly, begging him to listen to you. "Dammit Five!" And before you can tell him off, he's pulling you out of the train. You scream as you tumble to the ground but you can barely blink before a mass of energy sucks you into it. You're pulled and prodded and stretched and suddenly you're in the Umbrella mansion, panting.

"I'm gonna be sick." You keel over, Five catches you, pulling you into him.

"Shh. Shh." You almost laugh, to the untrained eye, Five seems to be helping you through your queasy spell, you however, know that he's telling you to shut your mouth.

"Five?" Someone calls from the upper levels of the house. Now that you're looking at it, it's a complete hazard. Floor boards are sticking out of the floor, dust coats the little art work that's still left, the windows are cracked and glazed over. No one's lived in this house for a very long time.

"We have to hide you." He panicks, shoving you out the front door and into the street. He leads you around the house and into a nearby alley.

You groan, your stomach giving a painful lurch. You stop in your tracks, leaning against the closest thing you can find, which happens to be a dumpster. "Two things. First, never, EVER, blink me again. Ever."

"I-"

"SECONDLY, why the hell do I have to hide if you're the one that brought me back to your timeline?!" You'd be angrier, but your queasy stomach and aching brain aren't making it happen.

He sighs, like you've just given him news that he can't wear his favorite suit. "Look, I saved your ass. A thanks Five would be great."

Arrogant little prick. "No thank you. I was fine where I was." You lie. "And you're changing the subject!" He averts his eyes from yours.

"I couldn't leave you, but we have history and well, my family can be rough around the edges when it comes to history." You feel your anger slowly ebb. You remember your Fives family, suddenly hiding behind a dumpster doesn't seem so bad.

"'Kay fine. Fine. Im here now and for what? Because you couldnt let go! God, all you Fives are the same!" He recoils as though you slapped him, you might as well have but what right does he have to bring you here against your will, to control you and pester you like he always does, to save you from suicide. You sigh, deflating. "I'm sorry. That was tactless. I'm angry."

"Thanks, I figured that out. Look, if you want to get back on that train be my guest, but I think I need your help. So, help me?" His voice cracks and you can't help the tug it has on your heart. "If your Five was anything like me, you know it's not easy for us to ask for anything." He gives you a look. "Come on, don't make me say it again..."

You stand up straight, giggling. "Okay Five. I'll help you. But then you help me. Deal?" You square each other up, measuring, testing, it's almost familiar to you.

"Deal."

•☆•

The next few days were, in your humble opinion, absolutely insane. You tried to do things off the books with Five, you really did, to hunt down this Jennifer girl, to help Five get on top of his reawakened powers and then it all went to shit, in other words his family found out.

Now you're driving in a busted up van full of people who hate you for reasons you dont understand all the way to some mystery town to find some guys missing daughter. It's uncomfortable to say the least.

Now that you've been puked on, you've about had enough. "Hey, uh, Diego, can we stop for a second..."

"Don't talk to my brother." Alison barks. You glance at her.

"Should I write him a letter instead?" You seethe. Klaus laughs from beside you which causes the others the groan bitterly.

Diego pulls the van off to the side of the road, allowing for a mass exodus of the Hargreeves family onto the snowy highway. There's bickering and moaning, but you're not really listening to them because Five is staring at you, burning holes into your head.

You sigh. "Something on my face?"

"Yeah. The bitch that almost got us all killed in the last apocalypse we stopped." Viktor answers, glaring, as if trying to make his words stab into you. If anything, he's just making you tired.

"Why you people can't listen, I don't know." You huffed exasperatedly. "I. Am. A. Different. Person. I don't know you people, I don't have your beef, I'm just helping because Five saved my life. End of discussion."

"Like hell you are! That's exactly what a Dolores would say." Alison shouts. Obviously their version of you pissed her off the most. You groan.

"I mean, Five hasn't exactly told us why he brought you here. And the name change? That's pretty suspicious..." Luther adds.

"Guys please. Hating each other is not going to save our behinds. This little lady here, new persona and all is probably going to keep us alive in the long run. If I know a her at all." Klaus chimes in, almost frantic. He reaches to pat your shoulder with a gloved hand, but stops himself midway, with an embarrassed little smile.

The siblings look about as confused as you but before any of them can chip in again, Five clears his throat matter of factly. "The reason she is here is because I trust her. Her powers are how we found this stupid girl in the first place."

"You heard Five. Stop whinging." Lila smiles, coming up behind you and wrapping and arm around your shoulder. "Water under the bridge sweetheart." She smiles sort of creepily at you, but you suppose she's trying to be genuine.

"Okay people. Pack it up, back in the van, if we want to make it on time we've gotta move it." Diego orders. Everyone files back to their seats, but you stare apprehensively at the puke infested floor.

Ben smiles evily at you as he passes, groaning as he flops into his seat. "Want to sit shotgun?" Five asks, smirking his stupid smirk.

"Desperately. But I don't take handouts." With that you climb over Ben and Klaus and plop down into your seat. Wishing you were anywhere else.

You watch Five shrug and clamber into his spot. Diego starts the engine and veers back onto the highway. You're not even on the road for 10 seconds before Ben shouts beside you. You turn suddenly to watch a car ram into the side your truck.

The screaming is unbearable, all you can think of are the flashes of your terrible life. Death and loss and heartbreak. You can remember calling out to Five as the van rolls, slamming into something hard. Your head throbs, your breath catches in your throat. Someone reaches out and grabs your hand and everything goes black...

•☆•

A/n Sorry not sorry for the cliffhanger!

Here's my masterlist if you like my stuffs

[lilieseance]

I need someone to write a tua x oc/reader ff whose power is foresight/clairvoyance (being able to see the future). it used to be seeing bits and pieces to have advantages in certain ways but not too much to change the storylines.

after not having the powers for 6 years they just get blasted with the full happenings of s4 and try to change the outcome.(and also, if it’s within your powers, save us from these plotholes 💀)

Klaus getting saved before he gets shot, preventing the car crash, knowing about what Reginald did etc i don’t care. Write your own version of the last 4 tua episodes we haven’t gotten. (since we only got 6/10) go nuts with it. I just want them to survive and live a happy life.

If it’s gonna be a x Five ff, make them at least same age physically and mentally as him. (And please make it that the godforsaken cheating arc never happend) 🫠

[thebearmage]

Reborn - Five Hargreeves x Dolores - Chapter One

Rated 18+/Mature

(Chapter One) (Chapter Two)

Chapter One - Awake "Do you trust me?"

"Viktor!? What are you doing!? Stop her!"

"Allison, don't do it!"

"Allison, wait!"

The entire universe goes dark as if someone turned off the power on an old TV - there's a beat, then two, then three. 

She startles awake with a gasp, breath filling her lungs, looking up at the white ceiling tiles. She's laying on her back, trembling, body working overdrive as it struggles to grasp its new mechanisms. 

Everything is too bright; everything is too loud. Her head hurts, her body hurts, and everything felt constricting and too loose at the same time. Before they can process what's happening, they turn onto her side and vomit. 

It's mostly bile, for her stomach has nothing in it, never has. She pants roughly as spots dance before her vision, black threads falling into her face as they attempt to push themselves into a kneeling position. 

A hand is on her back. She looks up to see a store worker - a kind-looking woman, pear-shaped, with gray hair and soft eyes. 

"Are you alright, honey?" She asks, "Did you fall?"

The words sound like gibberish for a moment, her neurons firing faster than ever before. They blink in confusion for a moment before the words finally register. 

"I…" 

She turns and coughs as soon as she tries to speak. Her throat feels like sandpaper; she grips it softly as she coughs, and the woman rubs her back. 

"Easy, now, take it slow. You must have passed out," 

The store worker helps her to her feet, and she has to grab the clothes rack next to them in order to stand properly. Her legs felt weak…unused. 

How…how did she know…anything? She didn’t know what a store or clothes were; she knew nothing 30 seconds ago. But now she has all this shit in her head, thoughts pounding against her skull as she tries to make sense of it all. 

"Oh honey," The worker helps balance her, "What happened?"

They don't answer her at first, looking behind her to see small platforms. Two nicely dressed mannequins occupied two platforms, but the third - the one in the middle - was empty. 

Thoughts come streaming together in a whirlwind, causing her head to hurt. They look down at themselves: black and white polka-dot t-shirt, black pencil skirt, pale skin. 

They look to the side to see a black beret and matching shoes near the base of the middle pedestal. Her breathing picks up. They grip her arms so hard they feel her fingers dig into her skin. Panic starts to rise within her, and the worker gently grabs her face to make eye contact. 

"Sweetie, look at me," she instructs softly, "Can you hear me? What color is my jacket?"

Her eyes flicker down to the woman's vest, "B-blue," her voice is raspy as if she's never spoken before.

"Good, what color is your skirt?"

"B-black?"

"Very good," the woman smiles as they slowly start to calm down, "what color is the floor,"

"Gray,"

The woman helps them take deep breaths, and soon, her pounding heart slows. 

"Now, what's your name, darling?" the woman asks again. 

She blinks before answering, "Dolores,"

»»————　★　————««

Dolores sits in the department store's break room. She looks at her reflection in a little mirror. She guessed the women used to correct their makeup during their breaks. 

Dark hair and green eyes looked back at her; her face was not too angular but not round. Her eyes lidded but not tried looking. Her cheeks were rosy, and her lips a soft pink. Dolores's dark hair stopped right at her shoulders, straight but with a slight wave. 

It's not what either of them imagined. 

Dolores breaks the intense eye contact with her reflection to look at the cup of a dark liquid in her hands. 

Coffee…right… it's called coffee. 

Dolores, curious, raises the drink to her lips and takes a sip, nearly spitting the bitter liquid out. 

"Not a coffee fan?"

They looked up to see the woman before walking into the room. Dolores tried to smile. Her mind was slowly piercing itself together, memories fitting back into place. She didn't know how it happened, but she was alive. Plastic was replaced with skin, and a hollow torso was replaced with organs and blood. 

"Not really," Dolores laughs softly, coughing a bit. Her vocal cords were still not used to working. Or rather, she was still getting used to having a voice.

"Well, it'll help either way," the woman sits in a chair across from Dolores, looking at them softly, "That was one nasty fall you took there,"

Dolores nods, "I remember…"

"What happened?"

Dolores takes a moment to answer, her newly born thoughts firing rapidly. What happened isn’t normal. She isn’t normal. She can’t tell the truth. She’d be accused of being insane and convicted. She had a lie. To hide. Protect herself.

"I was trying to see the hat the mannequin was wearing. I was too short, so I stepped up on the platform to see. I slipped," Dolores took another sip of the coffee, wincing at the taste again, "It was stupid, I'm sorry,"

The woman looks sympathetic, "Well, you're okay, and you learned not to do that again," she laughs softly. Dolores smiles. 

"Is there anyone I can call for you?" the woman presses. "Family or friends?"

Dolores shakes her head, "No,"

"Spouse? Wife? Husband?"

A face flashes in her mind - well, two faces: an old man and a teenage boy. But Dolores knew it was the same person. It was--

"No," she says, "I'm…alone,"

The woman looks concerned, "Are you--"

"Thanks for the coffee," Dolores gently cuts her off, "And for helping me, but I better get going,"

The worker sputters as Dolores exits the break room, walking down the aisles to the door. 

"Wait!"

Dolores turns back around to see the woman hobbling after her, "Are you sure you're okay, honey? I can call someone to help you,"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Dolores tries to smile, "Thank you again,"

The woman looks like she wants to protest, but Dolores turns away and slips out of the store. 

»»————　★　————««

Dolores doesn't know how long she's been walking. Her feet were starting to hurt, but she felt like she couldn't stop. She's never been able to move, walk, or pose independently; she's always been guided by someone else to pose silently, frozen. 

What was she going to do? She had some understanding of how the world worked; he would keep complaining about it to no end, and he sometimes brought her to different places, riding around on the back of a wagon…or was it a bike? Maybe both?

Should they go to him? Ask him to take them in?

Dolores shook the thought away. No. Hell no. They were not going back. Every time they were around him, they got shot at, thrown, used as leverage, or abandoned. Yeah, no fucking thanks. 

So what are they to do? They need a job, a place to live, food and water. 

Dolores noticed that it was getting dark out. In a slight panic, they looked around, seeing they were in the…darker parts of town. 

The only establishment nearby was a club, and there was nowhere else to go. Dolores crossed the street and entered. As soon as the door closed, she felt eyes on her. Most of the patrons were men, with scarcely dressed women dancing on poles, serving drinks, and even sitting with them. 

Dolores felt uncomfortable but knew she couldn't back out—not with how the men looked at her. Most were older, with graying hair and crooked teeth. Some were younger, middle-aged, and handsome, with evil glints in their eyes. Dolores felt like…she…they were looking at her as if she were a doll again. For a brief moment, Dolores thought she had turned back, only to snap back to herself when a voice behind her went. 

“You going to walk in, missy, or keep blocking the door?”

Dolores paused; she also didn’t have anywhere else to go. So, holding her head up high, she walked to the bar at the end. 

"Hey, sugar, what can I get ya?" The bartender asks, looking happy to serve someone other than a sleazy older man. 

"Just water is fine," Dolores answered, and the woman nodded and walked away. 

Dolores nurses her water for the next hour, ignoring the men talking and staring at her. She needs a job, but what sane person would hire a woman with no history - no birth certificate, no social security number, no driver's license, no fucking proof of identification. 

This…was going to be a lot harder than they thought. Dolores sighs, racking her head. Many of her memories were fuzzy and incomplete, but a few were vivid and clear. On top of that, she had a lot of information flowing into her head like a river, as if someone had activated the default settings on a video game character. 

She knows what a video game is…?

"Hey, princess!" A gruff voice calls out. Dolores looks up to see a nicely dressed older man in a crimson suit looking at her. He was big, with graying hair, flushed skin, a double chin, gold bracelets and necklaces, and a golden tooth. He beckons her over. 

"Come sit next to me, darling. I wanna get a good look at you," 

Dolores' eyes narrow, and she sips her water without breaking eye contact or moving. The man's smile is full of false warmth. 

"Oh, come on, princess. I won't do nothin' honest! Just wanna get a closer look at you,"

Dolores was about to refuse when she noticed the fear on the bartender's face. They made eye contact, and the woman gestured for her to go over. With a sigh, Dolores took her water and plopped down beside the man. 

"There we go. That wasn't so hard, right?" The man leans closer to Dolores, who leans back a bit, "You're a pretty one, all right. What's your name?"

"Dolores," Dolores answers shortly, "Yours?"

"They call me Mr. Higgins. A pleasure to meet you, Miss. Dolores," 

Higgins takes Dolores' hand and kisses it. They want nothing more than to rip it away. They steel her expression and sip her water. 

"So, Miss Dolores," Higgins speaks casually, either not noticing or ignoring her discomfort, "What does a pretty thing like you do?"

Dolores sees the trap before it's laid, but they also see an opportunity, "I don't have a job right now,"

Higgins has the decency to pretend to be shocked, "Oh? Well, that's a shame. How do you pay for your house?"

Dolores starts to wonder if this man has been following her, "I don't have one,"

Higgins gasps in fake horror, "You're homeless? Oh princess, that's not right," he retakes her hand, "Let me help you, darlin'. I can help you get back on your feet! Work for me. I'll let you stay in one of my backrooms," Higgins's smile is full of malice. Dolores can also see the sharp teeth, "Nobody like you should be wandering around alone, I'll take good care of you,"

Knowing this was a bad idea but desperately needing the money, Dolores struggled with her decision. She knew she was walking into a trap, but the allure of a job and a place to stay was too strong. She plastered a grateful smile on her face and nodded, "Thank you very much! I'd like that!"

As she agreed to Higgins's offer, she felt a surge of anger and frustration. She wanted nothing more than to punch that wicked smile off the man's face as it grew in triumph. But they knew they had to play along, for now. Dolores was determined to find a way out of her current situation, no matter what it took. 

[swanimagines]

THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY AO3 SERIESES

EVERYTHING FOR THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY

Luther Hargreeves

Diego Hargreeves

Allison Hargreeves

Klaus Hargreeves

Five Hargreeves

Ben Hargreeves

Viktor Hargreeves

MISC

Preferences

(Any of the other characters don't have any requests written nor pending as for now, so I'm unable to have serieses for them as AO3 requires you to have at least one oneshot written to be able to add it to a series, and I can't promise serieses for characters who don't have requests pending/I have no ideas of my own for them)

For anyone who's concerned, THESE ARE NOT ONESHOT COLLECTIONS, they are made using AO3's "series" feature.

If you want to be informed about new fics for TUA or its individual characters, create an AO3 account and subscribe or bookmark any of those serieses listed above. There are buttons at the top right corner for those, or on top on mobile. I do not do Tumblr taglists anymore.

[insidekatmind]

P links p.2

Marcus hargreeves

You cream on his dick

uses you as an outlet

he teases you with his cock

you like taking it from behind

five forces you to distract Marcus and you have a plan

he fucks you into a fool

Ambrose Spellman

Blowjob

such a beautiful pussy that wants to fuck you without a condom

you ride him on the couch at his house

thanksgiving blowjob

Ambrose told Prudence that you're just a "friend"

secret relationship because you are Sabrina's best friend, her cousin

[intothemultifandom]

𝐓𝐔𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐊𝐄𝐘: angst - 🗡️ || fluff - 💞 || romance - 💋 || multi - 🫂 || family - 🍀

☂️ 𝐌𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐈

Even at the End (Allison, Five, Viktor) - Based on this prompt: "Coming from a complex family means dealing with complex emotions. Fortunately, you’re not the favourite sibling without reason. Or, even at the end, you’re there when they need you most." // 🫂 + 🍀

☂️ 𝐁𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒

Titles - The thing about Klaus Hargeeves and the titles he had was that, for all the bad and bloodied ones he’d accumulated over his weirdly-long-but-should-have-been-shorter lifetime–nothing hurt more than becoming a stranger. // 🗡️

First Impressions - You meet a different version of your Ben. It makes for one hell of a first meeting. // 🗡️

🐦‍⬛ 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒

First Impressions - An immovable force and an unstoppable force meet before the end of the world. // 💞

[lizzielikeborden]

can you please make a sparrow ben hargreeves imagine a fluff if that’s okay :)

2.3k words

“God, do you have to be so annoying!” Ben waltzed his way around the furniture in the room picking the chair nearest the couch you were sitting on. 

Scoffing and rolling your eyes, you just ignored him. He had been doing this all week, the annoying, obnoxious, and negatively talkative towards you act was getting really old. You had tried everything, being nice, throwing the same energy back at him, and acting like it hurt your feelings but none of those had worked. If there was one thing you could call Ben that could possibly be considered kind it was persistent. 

“Excuse me, did you just roll your eyes?” Leaning forward out of his chair he put his elbows on the armrest, his forearms didn’t touch the chair, but his hands linked with one another as he sneered in your direction as if you had done anything other than mind your own business only to be insulted. 

“You’re looking right at me, you saw me do it, that’s a really stupid question.” You didn’t even look at him as you talked, rather you focused on the task at hand: relaxing. You had decided to just take a nap, that’s all you wanted to do. Your pillow at the end of the couch facing Ben’s chair, you already had your blanket on your body since the house was frigid. 

“Do you always have a bitchy attitude?” Getting comfortable on the couch you still paid him no mind, but you could hear the condescending tone in his voice getting stronger, even though he had no right or reason for his behavior. It was easier to just close the eyes and lay down. 

“I didn’t know you had a mirror over there.” Sighing into the comfort of your pillow you got into a comfortable position hearing  Ben scoff. 

“What did you just say to me?” You had told yourself you were gonna ignore his never ending presence, in fact that’s what you had told yourself all day long up until this point. But it was just so hard to not get involved in his banter. 

“Did you not understand the comment or did you not hear it? So either your subpar physically or mentally you pick.” Digging at his ego would almost always get him to fuck off, even though it was the meanest way to strike at him it usually got him riled up enough to not wanna be around you. 

“Is this how you treated other Ben?” And suddenly your closed eyes became wide ones, the only thought in your head was “what the fuck did he just say.” 

2 times. 2 entire times you had someone extremely close to you die, once in front of your eyes, and once from the echoes of other voices explaining the situation. Neither of which were under normal circumstances but both stung just the same, the shock was like accidentally touching a pan that just came from the oven bare handed, then not being able to take in air afterwards. Like touching a hot pan quickly the scar stayed mostly internal, more  fearful and careful of what you were doing remembering what happens when you don’t do those things. But why was he digging all of that back up? Did he know what he was doing or was it just a coincidence that his dickheadedness had finally struck the wrong bundle of nerves. 

The nightmares were the worst part, but could you even call them nightmares? Memories of your Ben. Of trying to teach each other to slow dance because you saw it in a movie you weren’t allowed to watch, but somehow managed without getting busted. Of reading in a book, each of you getting a character and sharing space to read the lines of your characters back and forth. Of playing tic-tac-toe on a handmade board the two of you constructed so you wouldn’t get caught with the papers covered in them. Of drawing back and forth on the same picture until it was done and then hiding them. Of the late night talks when neither of you could sleep, whether that be out of fear from a threat Reginald made earlier, actual nightmares, or just pure energy. Especially the way Ben’s words would always be that of intelligence and to lighten the mood you’d point at a blinking plane and call it a moving party planet, then ask him what he would do if he could jump up there and be on that planet. Of watching your siblings argue and or fight, then taking bets on who would win with specifics. Of watching them talk to one another and adlib what they were saying. Of sharing a seat next to his no matter what you were doing. Of hiding in each other's rooms when that dark looming cloud of an angry old man rushed down the hallway, holding each other taking deep breaths in sharing air knowing that it would all need to be held the moment that dark cloud struck. Of Klaus always making eyes and assumptions on your relationship with one another that was dead silent, not even noticeable enough to blow out a candle. 

You would think that your brain would notice that these dreams gave you nothing but negative emotions. The crying, the screaming, the internal anger that couldn’t be resolved, and the silence that held you captive. But every night you got a peaceful night of sleep where there were no other concerns. That's where your mind went instantly. As much as you blamed the others for certain aspects of Ben’s passings that wouldn’t bring him back, but neither would the constant reminders that you loved him and never once got a real chance to tell him. There was no way in hell you were gonna tell this asshole how everything used to be. God no, what would he even do? Just laugh, make fun of it, bring it up as a weapon to use against you in verbal disputes. 

 The house had always divided into little groups, like sibling pods of who was more like family than others to each other. Then others of you were friends but not like siblings, and then there was the oddity, you and Ben. You weren’t at all in a sibling pod, you were always friends but the older you got the more it became prominent that wasn’t the direction you were supposed to take. But now he wasn’t even in the Umbrella Academy he was with an entirely different group of siblings, raised by the same rude ass old man. That really struck deep, that Reginald could get your Ben taken away from you then have another chance with Ben and turn him into someone insufferable. 

Thanks to Reginald neither of you had ever heard someone genuinely tell someone else “I love you.” No, not the way it was meant anyway. So, you opted not to say it, every swallow of spit when the air was hot because with the letters falling out of your throat onto your tongue stung. In fact you were allergic to them the way they made your throat tighten ever so slightly. Had anyone, just one person in your physical life had said to literally anyone “I love you” and meant it the two of you would’ve had no excuses at all. One of you would’ve said it before, well before Ben died the first time.  

The second time you hadn’t been there, you had been busy helping the other half of everyone figure things out, you had missed him. Even though these weren’t your powers by any means it almost felt like when he was truly dead in sacrifice of Viktor you felt him go. Nausea struck you and so did the feeling of crying. No not crying, falling to your knees and balling. But you didn’t, not until the others explained the circumstances you were alone. No one knew a damn thing about what the two of you had, except Klaus who was too fucked up in his own right to come and check on you. But just like the first time you had to push through and move along. 

You thought that losing him was hard? No. What was hard was getting him back physically but missing him in every single goddamn way possible. They could’ve been somewhat similar but you refused to see any of it. 

“You wish I talked to you the same way I talked to other Ben.” Swallowing your feelings you gritted your teeth and spit the fire right back at him, he wasn’t about to just bring that up and then pretend like it was okay or right by any means. 

“Why is that?” You could’ve sworn he was being genuine or at least as close to genuine as was physically possible for him. Which by nature made you roll over onto your back and out of being in a comfortable position because whatever he just did took you out of a comfortable position by all means. 

“No, you know what, it doesn’t matter because he’s dead. There’s nothing I can do about that and you don’t need anymore ammunition to fire at me.” Tears, not tears, at least you didn’t want them to crawl out from your eyes but they were burning in the ducts waiting for you to miss a blink. 

“Do you really think that low of me?” Your brain was screaming at you that this had to be a trick, that you needed to get up and run the hell away from him. But you couldn't. He had found your venom and gave you just enough to paralyze you. 

“You know what I think of you? I think you’re mean, I think you’re nasty, I think your attitude problem has a lot to do with your daddy issues and the fact that someone basically forced you to be a walking second place metal. I think that you like to fight with me because the universe hates me and absolutely loves to see me suffer. And before you say anything mean like “you’re not that important to the universe” I know that okay? I would just rather blame anything else but you for your own actions because you look just like him. And I cannot stomach the idea of blaming anything on him.” Word vomit, way too much of it. There was no getting out of it now, he was going to hang this over your head for the rest of however long you were gonna know each other. 

“You are a headache, you showed up and started being nice to me even after I spoke to your siblings in a way I’m sure you didn’t like.  You continued to show me kindness no matter how mean I was to you. Then you started being a bitch, then you started getting sad. You went in circles around me and I never changed. Yet everytime I come around you’ll talk to me no matter what I say. I could scream at you and even then if hours later I spoke to you you would respond. Do you know how hard it is to be mean to someone you feel you can actually talk to?” He stood up, you could hear him standing up and it sent a panic through your body, you didn’t have a single idea how to take the comment he had just made. 

“Even worse, I was drinking a bit and your idiot brother Klaus went on a rant about how hard this must be for you. How close you were to the other Ben.” Klaus. It was always Klaus. You wished your peripheral vision would just give out because you could see him sitting on the table directly in front of you. You just couldn’t turn your head knowing he wasn’t sneering at you. He was actually looking at you and it was like Ben had come back to life and that’s the last delusion you needed to have. 

“I’m sorry, you win, Klaus is an idiot, you’re right, I won’t fight with you anymore, I’ll get them to stop fighting with you, I’ll get them to stop talking to you. Whatever you want me to do, whatever you want me to say to get this over with I will say it, I will do it, just leave me alone. I know you don’t care, but I can’t handle having him hung over my head.” There were the tears, but why not? You had just given in, admitted defeat, told him everything you assumed he would love to hear, and offered him anything he could ever want. 

“No.” Ben just shook his head, stayed seated. 

“What do you mean no?” You mimicked his voice in the best way you could. 

“I’m not gonna leave you alone, you haven’t left me alone, apparently you have never once left me alone until I died. I’m not a monster by the way, I won’t hold my death over your head.” Ben was staring bullets into your head. Waiting for you to respond to that, wondering how many times he was going to have to explain himself and rephrase what he had said. Just this once he was being dead serious, not sarcastic, not with an evil ulterior motive. 

“If this is all a sick joke, I don’t wanna hear it. It’s not funny.” You were more than serious, this was the last thing you needed to be thrown at you. But then something touched your arm, gently, awkwardly, kindly. Ben’s hand. It was on your bicep. 

“I’m not making a joke, I want to start over.” It was almost like he was saying words that he was being forced to say, in his defense he was forcing himself to say them. He had planned this conversation in his head. At least a little bit if not all the way Wondering what you were gonna say…

[itstheghostofmypast]

*At Luther's wedding*

Y/N: Bet you three shots he'll cry.

Five: I bet you four he'll throw up.

Y/N: I bet you two shots we'll pull through this too.

Five: seven that we'll all die, love.

Lila: Do they realise this is called alcoholism?

Diego: Shhh...just watch

Y/N: Two shots say you'll be kissing me tonight.

*Five takes two shots, smirks at her blushing face*

Lila: wtf?

Diego: It's giving love.

[just1riqht]

okkkkkkk yalllll I just finished watching Umbrella Academy season 3 and I know I always ask you guys for fanfiction for like a million different characters but I need Sparrow Academy Ben Hargreeves smut please and thank you

[yourmomxx]

M A S T E R L I S T

* · 　　 . .　 ★ 　　 ✧　 .. ˚ 　 * · . .　 ★·　　 ✧　 .

… no imagines yet

Incorrect Quotes. ⊹　 °. * ✧ . ✦　 . • ✺ ° ★ . °

Adoption

KIssLL

At Loss for Words

Inventory

Shitposts. ⊹　 °. * ✧ . ✦　 . • ✺ ° ★ . ° .    ⋒

The Footlose Scene

Reginald

Unpopular Opinion

Luther and Sloane

Season 3 Finale

[thebearmage]

Reborn - Five Hargreeves x Dolores - Chapter Two

Rated 18+/Mature.

TW: Coercion, mention of sex, attempt at rape 

(Chapter One) (Chapter Two) (Chapter Three - coming soon)

Chapter Two - Fight or Flight

“Dotty, honey! We got another beer at table three,”

Dolores massages her temples behind the bar before turning to face one of the older women in Mr. Higgin’s establishment, Rosa, with a tight smile. 

“Got it, Rosa,”

Dolores returns to the tap, takes a glass, and fills the pitcher. She watches the golden liquid fill the glass, her thoughts running just as fast. 

Eleven months, two weeks, two days. That’s how long Dolores has been working at this shithole. Mr. Higgins kept his promise; he gave Dolores food, shelter, and a steady income of cash, but it was not enough, not by a long shot, for Dolores to get her own place. 

Dolores hated it, every goddamn second of it. Mr. Higgins was ‘kind’ enough to let Dolores stay on waitress and bartending duties unless asked for specifically by a client. Those nights were the worst. 

“Just lay there and look pretty,” Rosa told Dolores one night after she returned from her first night with a customer, “They don’t want a partner. They want a toy. So, be the toy and get them off so you can be done,”

Even with her little social knowledge, Dolores knew it was wrong. She felt like a doll again: manhandled, squeezed, told what to do and how to act. 

“I am a real person…I am a real person…I am a real person…I am a-”

Dolores’ thoughts are cut off by the feeling of the beer overflowing onto her hand; she quickly wipes everything down before carrying the drink to the table, trying not to trip.

Mr. Higgins forced all the women to wear skimpy outfits that barely covered anything. Dolores wore a white crop top over a black lace bra that everyone could see, tight jeans shorts, matching lace panties, and white Stiletto heels. 

Dolores had no idea how other women could walk in these hell shoes. 

Teetering slightly, Dolores makes it over to the table and serves the man his beer, but as she turns away, she feels a sharp smack right on her butt. 

“Hey!” She cries, angered, “What the fuck!?”

She turns to find him leering up at her in a very lewd and unashamed way.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie. It just looked so appealing. Lighten up.”

Dolores feels her face twist into a scowl, but knowing this job was all she had, she holds back, actually biting her tongue to keep herself from talking. 

“Is that everything, gentlemen?” she says, trying hard to keep her face in check.

“Not quite,” said the man, “Why don’t you come and spend some time with me. All work and no play makes-” he squints at her nametag, “-Dot a dull girl.”

“No, thank you,” she says stiffly.

“Oh come on, girl,” The man bites his lower lip, “You’re asking for it, come on, spend a night with Daddy,”

Dolores tries not to vomit but lets her disgust show on her face, “Ugh, fucking gross,” she starts to walk away.

“Hey!” The man gets up, “I’m talking to you, bitch!”

Dolores turns around, “Yeah? Well, I’ve taken your order and served your drink, so this discussion is over,”

The man fumes, “Oh you fucking-” he reels his hand back to slap Dolores, but another hand stops her. Mr. Higgins.

“Now, now, son,” He grins, “Hands off the merchandise. I have a special customer looking forward to seeing her tonight; I don’t need that milky skin marked up now, do I?”

Dolores folds her arms over herself, tray under her arm, trying to seem smaller. Higgins didn’t value any of his workers as people; they were just pretty cash cows for him to exploit. He talked about the girls as if they were works of art for him to sell off to the highest bidder. Or, more accurately, pieces of meat.

“Go get ready, dolly,” Higgins orders Dolores, “Your man will be here soon,”

Dolly. That fucking nickname. Dolly or Doll. Dolores hated that name with a burning passion; just hearing it sent waves of fury curling in her gut. It takes all she has not to hit Higgins around the pudgy face with the tray in her hands. 

Though the thought has helped her sleep many nights. 

“Sure,” she responds, before walking away to get ready. 

By getting ready, she means taking everything but her bra and panties off and waiting for the guy in her room. It was so different from before, where he would wrap her up in layers of clothing to ensure she was warm, that she’d survive. Now, Dolores was actively removing her precious clothing to appease a man in almost the same way. 

“Wait, what guy am I even thinking about? When did this happen?” She shakes the thoughts away and reapplies her makeup before sitting on the bed. “You can do this. Just be the toy for a few hours, get the extra money, then go home,” Dolores tells herself, “Be the toy. Get the money. Be the toy, get the money,”

It doesn’t take long for the man to knock, and Dolores looks up, “Enter,”

The man was tall and older, maybe in his mid-40s, with graying black hair and brown eyes. He wore a three-piece suit and matching fedora. He looked fucking ridiculous, like a wannabe prohibition-era gangster. It amused Dolores as well as disgusted her. 

Dolores puts on her best fake smile and greets him, running a hand up his arm, “Heya, baby, how can I be of service tonight?” The man breathes a sigh of relief and instantly wraps his arms around Dolores's middle, “Oh baby, the list of things I wanna do to you tonight,” he whispers into her ear. Dolores could smell the beer and tobacco on his breath, “I got a list,”

Dolores giggles, “We’ll show me, mister, and we can discuss it,”

The man looks at Dolores, “Discuss? No, no, no, I’m doing all of these…” he pulls out a folded list and lets it fall open in front of Dolores’s face, “...to you tonight,”

Dolores scans the list, and the alarm bell rings in her head. Not even two words down, and she’s already seen one of her hard nos.

Anal Fisting 

“Oh fuck,” Dolores tries to smile again, “Baby, limits and boundaries must be discussed,” she laughs awkwardly, “Otherwise, I’m going to have to turn you away,”

The man’s grip on Dolores tightens, eyes full of lust due to her fear and smile predatory, “Did you not hear me, babe?” he asks, “I said ‘I’m doing all of this to you,”

He pushes Dolores backward, causing her to trip on her heels and sprawl out onto the bed, and she scrambles to get away, only for the man to grab her arm and force her under him. 

“Come on, baby, you’ll love it, I promise!”

“HIGGINGS!” Dolores screams, “HIGG-” The man claps his hand over Dolores’ mouth, “Shh, shh, shh. No, no, baby, we’re going to have fun,”

The man moves his free hand down to Dolores’ panties, and something within her…clicks. 

Without thinking, Dolores grabs one of her shoes and jams the heel right into the man’s ear. He cries out as blood spurts from the busted eardrum as Dolores rolls off the bed and onto the floor. 

“What the fuck!??” The man shouts, blood leaking through his fingers as he holds his ear, “You fucking psycho! You busted my ear!”

The man attacks again, but Dolores blocks his three hook punches before jabbing the man in the kidney once…twice…thrice before punching him square in the jaw.

The man drops like a rock, crumpling to the ground with Dolores standing over him with a bloody shoe. 

Hearing the commotion, Rosa bursts into the room, “What in the blazes is going on-”

She cuts herself off, seeing the prone man and Dolores. 

“Honey?”

Dolores was panting, her eyes wide as she stared at the man, the shoe, then back at him.

“What the hell…?” she mutters, sitting on the bed, “What the hell!?”

“Dotty, what happened!?” Rosa drapes a robe over her, “Did…did he try something?”

Dolores nods, “He tried…” she takes a harsh breath to keep the tears from spilling, “...he tried to rape me, Rosa,”

Rosa gasps softly, “Oh baby,” she hugs Dolores, and the younger woman breaks down in her arms, sobbing into her shoulder. 

The other girls, hearing Dolores’ sobs, come in and crowd around, one sitting on Dolores’ other side and rubbing her back. Rosa mouthing the word ‘rape’ to them had them all gasping in horror. 

They all start whispering encouragement and comfort to Dolores, one girl gently petting her hair while another rubs her back. They all stayed with her until her sobs turned to sniffles. 

One goes to get Mr. Higgings, and the unconscious man is dragged out. Another makes tea, and the girls stay with Dolores. They talk about random things—how their day was, comments about the men who remained at the bar too long—until Dolores is ready to speak. 

Dolores tells them the story, all of it: him coming onto her, her saying no, him insisting, throwing her on the bed. 

“It’s like I…snapped,” Dolores holds her head, “I just…suddenly knew what to do,”

“Maybe it was an old memory springing forth,” Jenny, a waitress, says, “You said you lost your memory, right?”

Dolores nodded, remembering the cover story she had told the girls when it became clear that Dolores didn’t know things that would typically be common knowledge. 

“Maybe you were some kickass cop-in-training or something,” Cassy, the bartender who’d initially served Dolores her first night, comments, smiling, “That would be cool!”

Dolores, despite knowing it wasn’t true, laughs, “Yeah, maybe,” she sighs, “I just hate when I’m forced to be a toy for them,” Dolores rests her chin on her hand, “I’m not…into it, as one would say,”

Jenny thinks for a moment, “Dotty, have you ever considered being on top?”

“Top?” Dolores sniffs, “Top of what?” Cassy laughs, “Top of others, silly! You know women don’t always bottom, right? Why not be the one who's in control? That way, you could hit men - which you're clearly good at - AND they'd pay you for it,”

“Yeah, yeah!” The second bartender, Myra, adds, “Oh my god, Dotty. That’d be perfect for you! You seem to do better when you’re in control, and I know quite a few men who love being dominated by women,”

Dolores looks around, seeing that all the women agree, “But I…I wouldn’t know how…I’ve never,”

“Oh girl, no one does it at first,” Cassy scoffs, “Here, little secret…” she leans in as if to whisper, hand by her mouth, “I moonlight at a club…” she pauses as if looking for eavesdroppers, “...a sex club, downtown! They cater to all kinds of people there! I bet one of their experts can teach you a thing or two! Maybe you can even get a job!”

Dolores feels hope surge in her chest, “...Really?”

Cassy hits her arm, “Yeah, girl! Tell you what, I'll get you an interview, and then you can hook the rest of us up when you get the green,” Cassy cheekily rubs her fingers together, “Deal?”

Dolores nods, beaming, “Deal!”

The girls squeal and all hug her, Rosa looking at the group fondly. 

»»————　★　————««

Dolores walks briskly down the city streets, dressed in the attire Cassy helped her pick out. She hasn’t said anything to Higgins in case this doesn’t work out. 

Dolores was nervous; she’d never done an interview before. The girls helped her practice, but it became clear Dolores knew nothing, so they had to run her through standard social practices. 

The only thing they told her to do was be there early. Her interview was at three p.m., and it was currently two forty. She would have to sprint to get there at least ten minutes early. 

Dolores was in such a rush that she didn’t notice when she ran smack-dab into a man. His coffee, luckily, only hit the concrete instead of their clothes. 

“Shit!” he curses, backing up, “Watch it!”

Dolores pants, looking at the man. He was shorter, with black hair that fell over his green eyes, “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking. I…”

Dolores looks around to see the C.I.A. building right next to them. The man has clearly started walking up the stairs, crossing her path. 

“Oh fuck, I ran into a C.I.A agent,” she curses herself, “I’m so sorry, I have an interview and I…”

The man holds out his hand, “It’s okay,” he smiles politely, “I have one today, too. I get it,”

Dolores gets a better look at the man. His hair was shorter but just tickled his nape in a way that said he was growing it out. He wore a three-piece dark gray suit with a white button-down. He had a sharp, handsome jawline and a slightly hooked nose, and he was looking at her with a little line between his furrowed eyebrows. His posture was professional and tall, speaking wonders about his confidence.

Dolores smiled, “He’s kinda cute,” she couldn’t help but think before shaking it off, “I’d offer to get you another, but I really have to go,”

The man shakes his head, still smiling, “No need. Good luck, by the way,”

“You too,” Dolores smiles before brushing past him, “Have a good day!”

The man starts up the stairs, sending her a wave. Dolores hurries the remaining block before reaching the building.  It was a giant black house with a rather intricate staircase leading to giant black wooden doors. It looked odd with the city buildings on either side, but Dolores liked it. 

With a shaking hand, she knocks on the door. After a moment of waiting, a younger man with bleached white hair, eyeliner, a band T-shirt, black skinny jeans, and Converse opens the door. 

“Dolores Smith?” he asks, smiling when Dolores nods, “Alright! Come on in!”

Dolores takes a breath before stepping inside, following him, “Here we go,”

[eb-is-hot]

guys! I’m back :D

if anyone has some rlly angst Harry Potter or AWAE or TUA ideas send em in!! 🫶🫶🫶

[insidekatmind]

P links p.1

TUA: MARCUS HARGREEVES

after a long day he needs to relieve his stress

sex in his bedroom

after a fight

sex in his car

a blowjob after you answered him wrong

CAOS: AMBROSE SPELLAMAN

Halloween costume

he fucks you like a slut

he's trying not to get caught by his cousin

Blowjob

Angry sex

[petaldoom]

maybe I didn't know this since I didn't read the comics, but it seems we're ignoring that Reginald Hargreeves is an ALIEN?!??