#i used to go by she/they for lack of a better choice (now it's just they for lack of a “no thanks” choice)

[draw-you-coward]

might draw my durge next 👀 shey're (creative and sexy way of combining "they" and "she") a bit of a meme bc I don't take myself seriously after the first playthrough but I think will be quite fun to draw! that face has good angles

[coldfanbou]

Fair is Fair

We get to learn a little bit about Mina in this fic. Turns out she's a little needy.

Length 2.3K

Mina X Mreader

Previous Part

Once Chaeyoung had left your home, you lay on the couch, wanting nothing more than to relax when your phone began vibrating. It was a series of messages. “Why did Momo get a turn?” was the first one that got your attention. You wonder who would know about your night with Momo and Jihyo. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you open your messages. You scroll to the top and realize it’s Mina messaging you. The rest of her messages were her complaints about being left out.

“I’m not the one that decided that,” you reply.

“Well, I want a turn; it’s been so long since I’ve been with someone.” She texts back before she begins calling your phone. You pick up the phone and instantly hear Mina's voice come through, “It’s not fair that Momo gets to have fun with you. We share everything, and she shouldn’t be able to have fun with you alone.” she repeats, her voice high. Mina’s whines were odd to you. From the small amount of time you had spent together, she had acted much more like a lady, so her complaining like a bratty child was weird, for lack of a better word. 

“Mina, things just happened. What do you want me to do about it.”

“Tonight, you and I are going out, no ifs, ands, or buts.”

“Mina,”

“No, we’re going out.” Mina whines, the soft pounding of something heard in the background. On the other side of the phone, Mina kicked her feet against her bed, cheeks full of air as she pouted. “I want to go out tonight, and then we can spend the night at your place. Chaeyoung got to fuck you last night, why can’t I?” You question the last part, your mind working slowly until you figure out that the friend Chaeyoung had been talking about was, in fact, Mina.  “Chaeyoung was showing us pictures last night, and I couldn’t believe it was you. I want my turn now!” She whined, kicking her feet again. 

You reluctantly agree, too tired to put up a fight. “Alright, fine, but you plan the date.” 

“Really?” Mina almost shouts, the glee in her voice ringing out.

“Yes, give me the details, and I’ll meet you there.” You were already tired of the situation. You place your phone on the coffee table before shutting your eyes. 

When you wake up from your short nap you have several messages on your phone from Mina, including the time and place for your date. You check the clock and realize there isn’t much time left. You get yourself ready, already regretting giving in to Mina so easily. You head to the address Mina had sent you. Arriving at the address, you double-check to make sure it’s the right place. You question Mina’s choice of a Lego cafe, but soon enough, you see her arrive, standing outside the cafe and typing something out on her phone. Your phone buzzes a second later, “Where are you?” 

“Okay, guess this is the right place.” You say to yourself before getting out of the car. You walk up to Mina, who smiles when she sees you. She’s dressed casually, wearing oversized jeans and a hoodie.

“Let’s go!” Mina says, taking your hand and heading inside, grabbing a table for the two of you. 

“What kind of place is this Mina?”

“It’s a Lego cafe,” Mina says, stating the obvious.

“I know that, but why here? Why have the date here?”

“It’s fun,” Mina says, pulling out a set of legos from under her sweater. You feel like you’re in another world as Mina begins playing with the set. Looking at the box, you see it’s a car she’s building. You’re more confused than anything else; you never would have thought Mina would be interested in something like this. Seeing her pull a box set from under her sweater was another can of worms in and out of itself. You watch the young woman smile to herself as she puts the pieces together. It was cute, almost innocent. You feel out of place as she continues to build the car. “We’ll get you a set,” Mina says without looking up at you. 

As the waiter comes around, Mina takes charge, ordering coffee for both of you and a Lego set for you to work on. You sighed briefly, “I didn’t expect this would be our date. I thought you’d want to do something else.”  You pick at the set Mina had chosen for you; it was a set of flowers, something simple.

You build your set while watching Mina work on hers, “Do you do this often?”

She nods, focusing intently on the tiny stickers she had to place on the Lego pieces. “Yeah, I think it’s fun building these sets. Most guys don’t really like it, though; they think it’s childish.”

“It kind of is, but if you enjoy it, you should be able to share that.” You reply as you look through the instructions. “If they don’t like it and don’t want to date you because of it, that’s their problem.” Mina glances up from her set, looking at you before continuing to build it.

“Thanks,” she murmurs. “It’s peaceful building these,” Mina pauses as the coffee arrives, taking her time to sip from the hot cup before returning to her build.

“I thought you would just want to get straight to business. Not go on a date first.”

“I-well, I thought it would be rude to go to your house and do it.” Mina stammers, “I thought this would be better; besides, I wanted to build this set. I’ve had it for a month.” Mina says, trying to give another reason for the date. She hoped you wouldn’t see the price tag on the box. She had bought the Lego set before coming here. After your call with her had ended, she got flustered and went out to buy it. 

“So what else do you like?” 

“Games, video games,” Mina says, drawing out another question from you. “I like Minecraft; it’s a lot like Legos. I like building things more than going on adventures.” You nod along and continue asking Mina questions about herself. She slowly grows more comfortable as the date goes on, and once she finishes her build and you finish yours, the two of you decide to leave.

Mina places her little car in the back seat, with your plant, staring at them as you drive home, hoping nothing happens to them.

As you arrive in the parking lot, Mina slips a pill into her mouth and swallows it, preparing herself for a long evening. The effects are immediate as she feels her body begin to heat up. Walking to the door, Mina grows anxious, her body growing needy.

Reaching the door, Mina throws herself at you, wrapping her arms around your neck as she presses her lips against yours. “Let’s get started,” You struggle to open the door but eventually manage it, moving inside with Mina. She grabs your hands, moving them under her sweater. You feel her toned stomach as she drags your arms up her body until you reach her modest chest. Mina cranes her neck, letting you mark her body with hickeys as you lead her to the bedroom. Mina’s nipples rub against the palm of your hand, and she lets out a light moan as you squeeze her breasts. You push the door open and place Mina on the bed. You pull the hoodie off her before continuing to mark her body, her moans growing louder as you tease her nipples. Mina holds you against her chest, wanting to keep you there forever as you begin tugging at her jeans. 

Mina grabs your hands, stopping your advance. When you look up at her, her eyes are already on yours. “Before we keep going, I want to tell you something, but you have to promise not to tell anyone else.” 

“Okay, I promise,” You state to her, staring into her eyes and creating a sense of trust.

“Momo doesn’t know about this, but…” Mina’s face becomes flushed as she struggles to finish her sentence. “Can I call you Daddy? I like it better this way; please take the lead.”

For the second time today, Mina stunned you. “Uhm, sure, that’s fine.” This version of Mina was a lot different from the woman you had sex with a couple of weeks ago. Whereas when she was drunk, she degraded herself, Mina seemed more soft when she was sober. Mina giggles as she unbuttons her jeans and lets you pull them off. You become distracted, thinking to yourself how Mina has been the opposite of what you expected of her as she reaches down and rubs your bulge. 

“You’re so big,” Mina whispers, “Can I see it, Daddy?” You nod and lay back on the bed, letting Mina pull your pants off you; she slowly moves her head over your crotch, her long fingers pulling at your underwear. A smile creeps onto Mina as she tugs at your underwear, and your cock flops out. She grasps it gently, her hand moving along it slowly.

“Keep going, Mina, that feels good.” You groan.

The young woman drips her saliva onto your cock, spreading it out as she runs her hand along her shaft. “I want you, Daddy, in here.” She says, placing her other hand on her stomach. Mina stares into your eyes as she strokes your cock, her body growing hotter as she becomes more eager to move on. Mina flashes her gummy smile as she uses both hands to stroke your cock, rubbing the tip with the palm of one as the other runs along your shaft. You groan Mina’s name, the pleasure flowing through you as she leans down and kisses the tip. Mina smiles after, feeling shy. 

“Mina, I want you.” The young woman’s heart skips a beat after hearing your order. She straddles you, rubbing her lips along your cock and moaning as she prepares herself. The heat coming from your cock, makes Mina want more. She doesn’t wait long before lifting herself and rubbing the tip between her folds. Light moans escape Mina’s lips as she slowly sinks onto your cock, her walls squeezing your shaft as she slips more into her cunt. Mina places her hands on your chest as she begins to feel full. 

Mina rides you, her hips rocking back and forth as she leans back. “You’re so big,” she groans. The young woman bites her lip as she moves up and down your shaft, slowly putting more force into her bounce as she takes every inch inside her. “Mmm, Daddy,” Mina moans, her strength slowly leaving her body, leaving you to thrust into her. You roll Mina onto her back and lift her lower half, continuing to thrust into her. Mina’s moans only get louder; she grips the bedsheets, getting closer to cumming. She wraps her arms around you, holding you tightly as you ram more of your length inside her. “D-daddy, you’re so deep,” she whines, her legs wrapping around you. You kiss Mina’s neck and listen to her whimpers. Your hands grip the back of her thighs; they quiver as you push Mina closer to her climax.

“Cum for me, baby. Cum for Daddy,” you growl in a low voice. Mina’s body tenses, and she cries out as she cums. You continue thrusting into her tightening cunt, driving Mina mad. She continues to moan, “Daddy, wait!” She whines, her body becoming overrun by the pleasure. 

“I’m going to cum, Mina,” you groan. 

“I want Daddy’s cum. I want it inside me,” Mina moans, the pleasure breaking her as she feels your cock throbbing inside her. As you're about to cum you bury yourself inside Mina, your cum pouring into her cunt. “Oh, Daddy, more,” Mina moans. You kiss the young woman, shutting her up for a moment as you enjoy her body, her cunt milking you.

“Does my baby want more?” You ask, running your finger between Mina’s tits. 

“Yes, Daddy. Please give me more,” Mina says, biting her fingertip as she uses her other hand to spread her lips. “Please fuck me again, Daddy.” The sight of your seed leaking out of her cunt gets you hard again, and you slide back into Mina, gripping her ass as you begin thrusting again. 

As you fuck her to another climax, you feel something rub against your finger. Moving your hand just a little, you feel a plug. “Does my baby have a plug in her?” You whisper into Mina’s ear. 

“Yes, Daddy.” Mina says with a pout, “I want to save that for later.” she says softly. You leave it alone for now and continue fucking the young woman until you’re both exhausted. As you lay beside Mina, your chest heaving, you comment on her other side.

“This is a lot different from our first time together. So you have Sharon, and this is Mina?”

Mina looks away from you, covering her face. “It’s only when I’m drunk. I say a lot of things when I’m drunk.” She admits.

You laugh at Mina, “Oh yeah? Like ‘cum inside my slutty pussy’ or ‘fuck me like a whore’”  Mina’s mind flashes back to the first time you had sex, and she grows more embarrassed. “So, which do you like more?” You lean in closely to Mina’s ear and run your hand along her body, pushing two fingers inside her cum-filled cunt. “Or is it both?” You ask her, “Are you my slutty baby?” Mina gasps, and her body shivers. She bites her lip and nods.

“I like both,”

[thedarkdisgrace]

Ok, follow up post to the original cause I wanted to actually offer my analysis/interpretation on this.

I feel like this is a right/left brain analogy 🧵

Dazai covering his right side, the side supposedly responsible for the emotional & artistic things. It says alot about his mindset, accurate for that time.

It’s intriguing, then, Kouyou covers the “logical” side

I feel like this lends to why Chuuya & Kouyou do get along well. While both Chuuya & Kouyou are no doubt very intelligent (Asagiri literally refers to Chuuya as a genius) they both still lean very much into their emotional side as well. Even if Kouyou seemingly does so less.

Kouyou reveals herself, however, not only in her care for Chuuya but we mainly see it how she handled the situation with Kyoka.

She could have insisted Kyoka come back without ever changing her mind but when Dazai presents her with a way to save Kyoka from dark, she agrees quickly.

Kouyou clearly cares & wanted to help & protect Kyoka even if she went about it poorly. She was trying to help based on her past experiences, lest we forget that she tried to leave the mafia herself once, for *love* no less. She also tends to get emotional when talking about her past or her wish to help Kyoka.

But once she was presented with another solution, a far better one, she didn’t do “what’s best for the mafia”. Kouyou agreed to what was best for Kyoka & that was definitely a more emotional choice.

This is an area where Chuuya & Kouyou align. So, of course they would get along.

Chuuya always seems to find the balance between his logic and emotion. However, he can easily & often does lean more into his emotional side first, then his logical side.

It’s similar for Kouyou, even if we don’t see it as much from her.

Back to Dazai then, when he left the mafia & the cover on Dazai’s “emotional side” was gone Dazai seemed to also move more towards that balancing of the two sides.

He started off heavily relying on his logical brain & struggled emotionally. Often feeling numb or apathetic mostly, hence his suicidal ideation.

Then he meets Chuuya & this shifts. Chuuya forces him to experience new feelings. As Chuuya is a living breathing example of most things Dazai felt the world lacked. It opened Dazai to the idea that there is more to the world, there is more to *people*. Chuuya intrigues Dazai enough to make him want to live a little longer again. Chuuya gave him a reason to keep going, a promise of more.

From the moment he met Chuuya, it was a process of letting more & more emotions seep into his mind & his heart. We see how he feared for Chuuya in 15 even after they just met, even though Dazai *knew* it was a plan.

I might even venture to go as far as to say Dazai may not have feared for someone else’s life that hard before. It was a burst of unrecognizable emotions to him. After this, he only had more & more emotion seep in as the years went by. In Storm Bringer he was ready to sacrifice the city to give Chuuya a choice.

That relationship opened Dazai up to others later, namely Oda & Ango. Which only further encouraged the intermingling of his logical brain and his emotions. Then reaching the point at which the bandages were finally removed entirely and then he, like Chuuya, moved to striving to find the balance rather than relying on one side.

Bringing us back to current Dazai as he is still attempting to find that balance.

He still leans more towards his logical side. This, of course, in contrast to Chuuya who, while intelligent, more easily leans into the emotional.

Yet another thing between them that completes & balances each other. Soukoku will always pull the other back when drifting too far.

So, of course, Soukoku complement each other & it benefits them both.

Having Kouyou on Chuuya’s other side I think also does help Chuuya stay grounded while in the mafia. Chuuya isn’t one to lose who he is but I think having someone else who he knows *cares* like he does helps.

Now, additionally, if we apply this to Beast, I think this also says alot about beast Dazai & why Asagiri says beastzai would be the hardest for someone to portray.

Because *this* Dazai, is perhaps *too* far into his emotional side. He’s always intelligent but in beast, his actions aren’t fully logical, they’re emotional.

He appears cold & calculating as always but he saw another version of himself suffer the great loss of a best friend & allowed his emotional desire to prevent that from happening take control. Thus, his emotional side takes over, thus him covering the opposite side from canon Dazai, he’s covering his “logical” side.

I feel like this is the main difference between all the various Dazai we’ve seen.

PM Dazai relied heavily on his logical side, especially before meeting Chuuya. He rarely took emotion into account unless it involved the 3 people he actually cared for. We see him make emotional choices when it involves Chuuya, Oda, and Ango. Dazai did seem to let more and more emotion seep in over time as a result of knowing them, however, leading to that moment the bandages are removed.

Beastzai is leaning far too heavily into his emotional side, getting lost in it even. Acting solely on an emotional desire rather than a logical one. His desire to prevent a tragedy. He only was using his intellect to further that emotional desire.

Canonzai went through a steady progression, meeting Chuuya starts to open him up, this extending over time to Oda & Ango, leading to the cover on his “emotional” side being taken off.

But beastzai skipped all of that, all the *progression* to that point for canonzai & so beastzai just got all these intense emotions he never experienced before all at once when he saw canonzai’s memories & therefore he sunk far too deep, too quickly into his emotions.

Now current/ADA Dazai is the balance of the two extremes, and seemingly the closest to happiness.

ADA Dazai uses his logical brain as always but he also actually takes emotion into account as well and has more people he actually cares for now.

I think that says alot to the theme of bsd, leaning into that “everything is grey” dynamic. Everything is about the *balance* of things. Showcasing that anything in extremes in either direction doesn’t work.

Anyway, just some thoughts I had and interpretations of mine. Take them as you want, as always.

Oh and just to be clear, I don’t think Dazai was ever “emotionless”, even at his worse. Even if he was numb and apathetic. He was also lonely.

Just saying the more people he came to care about (Chuuya, Oda, Ango then later the ADA) the more he was able to feel a variety of emotion.

My original post:

[the-kr8tor]

High on the Feeling

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Summary: Hobie goes to the dentist and you leave with a very giggly and sweet Hobie high on anesthesia.

Word count: 2.4k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, cw blood, cw food mentions, talks of marriage, lovestruck! Hobie, fluff.

Navigation

Octobie 🎸

You've practically flipped through every single magazine in the dentist’s waiting room while you wait for Hobie. He's been complaining about the annoying ache in his molar that has hindered him from doing his responsibilities for the past few weeks. And after some convincing on your end (and a lot of smooches and coddling), he finally accepted that he needed a tooth extraction.

Now, you'd think that with his abilities that a regular ol' anesthesia wouldn't even work on him. But judging from the lack of swearing and screaming behind the tooth shaped door, you and Hobie's hypothesis were dead wrong.

You pick at your nails while you wait, and listen to the cheery pop song that's starting to make you more annoyed than the hospital-like smell of the place. The walls are painted stark white with a bunch of Ikea bought shelves perched on it where a bunch of teeth related decor sits and a handful of picture frames filled with stock photos of smiling people. You feel unnerved by the choice in decoration. Couldn't they just put infographics on how to properly brush your teeth like a normal dentist?

As the thought passes by your mind, the tooth shaped door opens and out comes Hobie stumbling over his own feet. Boots stomp loudly on the tiled floors, and you immediately run towards him to catch his flailing body.

Thankfully, you catch him in time, his head falls on your shoulder as his arms fall limp on his sides. His muffled groans reverberate, making you turn towards the rushing dentist assistant with her hands frantically pushing a wheelchair that you surmise was supposed to be Hobie's ride out.

“Is everything okay?” You ask both the nurse and Hobie, who's basically laying his entire weight on you. You feel his drool leaking onto your shirt. Or his shirt for that matter.

“I'm sorry, he just launched himself out of the wheelchair!” She sighs tiredly. “He keeps saying that London needs him. And that he's Spider-Man.”

Your eyes widen for a second before fixing your expression. “...Oh,” you say, laughing nervously. You put your arms under his armpits to hold him better. But it doesn't make it any easier to carry all 6 feet and three inches of Hobie. “How did it go? Is he alright? Except for being a drama queen.” You joke so that the woman forgets what Hobie told her.

Fortunately, she chuckles. “Yeah, the procedure went well. Although, he was a lightweight with the anesthesia. Like he was out out.”

“Really?” You furrow your brows questioningly while you hobble towards the wheelchair to sit him down or your hold on him will fail since he's tethering to the side now. “I thought you might've needed more of it than less.”

“Us too, he's just a bit loopy but he'll be okay after a few hours.” She helps you put Hobie on the chair, he falls unceremoniously on it with a clatter of metal. “I suggest you drive him home.” She winces when Hobie mumbles something incoherent with a giggle right after. He looks like a happy camper.

“Yeah, for sure.” You think he looks adorable with him looking like he's high up in cloud nine. He seems fine except for his droopy eyes and mouth, and all the drool pooling in the corner of his lips. At least he's not in pain anymore. Taking a handkerchief from your jean pocket, you gently dab at the corner of his lips, to which he hums appreciatively. “Thank you, I'll take it from here.”

She smiles as she hands you the push handles of the wheelchair over to you. “Of course—oh, I almost forgot. We kind of promised him ice cream.”

“Coconut!” Hobie suddenly yells, perking up from his seat with wide eyes. The other people waiting in the room jumps from their seats. If something bad happens to him because of the anesthesia, you're going to sue this place to the ground. You place your hand on his shoulder, which he immediately calms down and looks up at you with stars in his eyes.

“Coconut ice cream to be exact.” The nurse gives you an apologetic look.

“Good thing I know where to get some.” You smile down at Hobie, only to find him boyishly smiling up at you.

“You're pretty.” He whispers breathlessly like you've taken the air from his lungs. His hand holds the back of yours, patting it softly. He looks as handsome as ever even with a cotton ball shoved in his mouth.

“Thank you, Hobs, you're pretty too.” You feel like melting on the spot as he smiles at you. “Let's go home first and then I'll get you a whole pint.” Hopefully he'll be sober by then, although you're loving his lovestruck gaze on you.

“Home?” He asks while you push him towards the exit.

“Yeah, we live together, Hobie.” You giggle, nudging the top of his head with your chin. The bells hanging above the door jingles when an attendant opens it for you. The cooling autumn air greets you and Hobie.

“Woah.” He sighs like he couldn't believe your words. “We married?”

You pause right next to the van, heart squeezing in your chest. “Oh, Hobie.” His question is the most adorable thing you've ever heard.

“Oh no,” he utters like he hurt you. Stumbling out of the chair, he turns towards you to rub your arms just like he always does whenever you need comfort.

“Sit down, Hobie, you might fall—” His hands cradling your cheeks stop you from continuing. You see his eyes well up with tears, pretty hazel eyes glimmering under the afternoon sun. “Oh, baby, don't cry.”

“We're not married?” His lips wobbles, “that's bonkers.”

“Do you want us to be—?”

“Yes.” He says before you could finish your sentence. You hold him by his waist, helping him with his balance.

You chuckle with a soft smile, hand reaching up to rub your thumb along his chin as you peck the tip of his nose. “Tell you what, we'll talk about it in the car.”

“Really?” Hobie's eyes light up. You've only seen him like this whenever he gets home early on patrol only to see you waiting for him happily.

“Yes really. We’ll feed our guests coconut ice cream.”

He drops his head back, chuckling deeply. You raise his head back up in fear of him choking on the cotton ball. Once his head is upright on his neck once again, he grins at you. “You know ‘m Spider-Man, right, love?”

Your guffaw echoes around the parking lot, “off you go in the van, Spider-Man.” Guiding him towards the van, you turn the corner to open the passenger door for him.

Hobie takes a big whiff, and you look on with an endeared smile. “I smell pine.”

“Yeah, it's the scent thing we bought at the gas station.” You point at the swinging 2d pine tree in the rearview mirror, other hand placed on the small of his back, making sure that he doesn't fall.

“I don't fancy pine.” He pouts uncharacteristically, making you clamp down your lips to quiet your giddy laughter.

“It was the only thing available. We'll get a new one, okay?” Kissing his shoulder, ready to guide him on the seat, he leans in for a proper one but you move away before he could. He pouts again, brows fully knitted together. “Sorry, but we're in public, Hobs, and you have a bloody cotton in your mouth.” You really want to kiss him, you really do, but he probably can't tell his right from his left right now.

Hobie scrunches his nose, hand reaching up his mouth but you stop him halfway before he could yank it out. “Why?” Swatting your hand away, he playfully fights with you.

You continue to fight with his long arms, you two must've looked like a couple of kids baby fighting in the middle of the parking lot with your hands slapping his own away. “Because, you can't— Hobie! You can't take it off!”

“But I want to snog you.” If it wasn't for his haze filled eyes, you'd think that he's playing with you.

“I promise you can snog me as much as you want later when you're well aware of your surroundings—!” His hands manage to grab hold each of your wrists, braceleting his fingers around them. You fight a giggle, acting like you mean business but the amusement in your eyes says otherwise. “Get in the car please.”

“You promise later?” Hobie clicks his forehead against your own. Eyes fully closed, sighing quietly.

Rubbing his back, you let him calm down from his high for a moment. “Yes, I promise—” you hear soft snores. “Are you asleep?!”

After wrangling Hobie into the passenger seat, making sure that his seatbelt is properly settled, you finally pull out of the parking lot. Once you manage to get back on the road, you glance towards Hobie, who's looking out the window with his face squished on the glass.

“You okay over there?” Patting his leg, you get his attention, and you swear he looked like he just realized you were in the car with him when his entire expression lit up like a billboard in New York. “I wish I had a camera right now.”

“What for?” He places his head on the head rest, cheek smooshed on the leather, eyes sparkling as he looks at you softly.

“To take a picture of you.”

“I want to take a picture of you.” He says softly, “a million pictures of you.”

“Can one of those pictures be with you too?” You grin, trying to focus on the road ahead instead of looking at the adorable sight next to you.

“If you want to.” His eyes flutter close, but he's clearly fighting sleep.

“Well, I want to.” You stop the car when the light turns red, a perfect opportunity to hold his hand. “You can nap if you want. I'll wake you up when we're home.”

“I want to pick flowers for you.” You swear your heart jumps out of your chest. “But only your favourites.”

“And I'll get you coconut ice cream as much as you want.”

His eyes closes to the hum of the engine. “I'll share it with you.”

“I know you will, Hobs.” Kissing the back of his hand, you let him go just as when the light turns green.

Hobie has always been sweet on you, but this time, he's beyond just being sweet. Your teeth feel like it's rotting from how incredibly saccharine he is. And you love every second of it, but you wish that the meds wear off so you could be with the same Hobie who hogs the blanket at night and who wakes you up with his cold feet against your thigh.

—

You cuddle close to Hobie whilst you feed him spoonfuls of coconut ice cream on the sofa. The anesthesia has completely worn off, sobering up to his old self. You've given him his pain meds and you've lit up a scented candle for him to relax more. Crumpet sleeps next to him, face snuggled up against his side, unbothered by everything that's happening around her. Your head finds penchant atop his chest as his palm rests above your stomach after he casually flung your shirt over his hand to feel your warmth.

“How's the pain?” You ask, while he draws patterns over your soft skin.

“Throbbin’, a three right now. Nothin' I can't handle though.” He says while you scoop out another spoonful for him. “I think they took more than one tooth.” He says while he opens his mouth for you to feed him another dollop.

“Do you want me to check?” You tease, pointing at his bottom lip with the spoon, looking up at him with a smirk.

“Maybe later,” he squeezes your nose before letting go with a chuckle. “What else did I say other than tellin' people my secret?”

“They didn't believe you anyway, thanks to the meds.” A drop of ice cream falls from the bowl down to your hand, licking it off, you let the sweet treat melt in your mouth after giving it a taste. He looks at you like you're the dessert. Smiling, you perch both of your legs on his lap, to which he just grins wider at. “You really want to know?”

“Was I that embarrassin’?” Hobie nudges the crown of your head with his nose to tell you that it's his turn to be fed. Arm pulling you impossibly closer to him.

“Blackmail worthy,” you joke, you move to take another mouthful of ice cream but he beats you to it by taking your wrist to lead the spoon towards his mouth instead. “Rude.” You giggle and he pinches your side.

“C’mon, tell me.” He wipes away a bit of cream from the corner of your lips with his thumb, which he quickly licks away, flustering you in your seat. He smirks victoriously, eyebrows raising smugly. He knows what he's done.

“Fine,” you laugh, pushing at his chest lightly. “you asked if we were married. And you cried when I said no.”

“That's… the right reaction.” He tilts his head in the same way like he's hiding a surprise for you. The last time he did this was when he got you your favourite pasta from a restaurant across the city.

You narrow your eyes at him. “What do you mean?” Your heart thuds loudly in your chest.

“Even my high self knows about it.” He side glances at you, while you're left pondering what he meant, he takes the bowl of ice cream from your hands. “My turn to feed you, lovie.”

“Hobie,” your eyes shimmers under the cinnamon smelling candle light, you hug his middle with a shaking arm. “What do you mean?”

He makes a face, shrugging while a bright smile spreads across his face. “Nothin', love.”

You laugh giddily, waking up Crumpet from her nap. “Okay then—wait, you're fucking with me aren't you?” Narrowing your eyes, you shut your mouth as he tries to feed you a scoop.

“Open up,” Hobie holds the spoon up for you, winking as you gaze at him softly. You still don't open your mouth, so with a glint in his eyes, he leans close to you, smashing his lips to yours, tasting the coconut on your lips while you laugh against his lips as the kiss turns from a playful one to a gentle, loving kiss.

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[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

Astarion Very Happy Ending

So full disclosure, my Tav was a Selunite, and I can't stop thinking well if Bhaal can have a mortal chosen one, why can't Selune?

Also, spoiler warning, stop reading here if you don't want, but like damn girl I freaking turn a Shar priestess away from her god back to you, free a man from his devil's contact, high-key save the world, kill bhaals chocen, convince my vampiric lover to not sacrifice thousands of people, stop an entire goblin army from murdering Tieflings and druids alike, and literally free your daughter. A reward is in order!

This is that reward:

Astarion was slowly getting used to living in the shadows again, as loathe as he was to admit it. It was quite the transition, despite the fact that his time in the sun had amounted to less than a year. But what a lovely year it was. Nearly a perfect one in comparison to the rest of his life. And the promise of more of the same was a suitable balm to being cursed back into the darkness.

It was difficult, but with the love of his life by his side it was more than tolerable. Borderline beautiful in fact, to be able to live his life so freely despite the infuriating complications.

The money also certainly helped.

That was one thing Astarion always had over his brothers and sisters, his fantasies of a better life had always surrounded around Cazador's murder. Not his approval. He may have been completely unaware of the horrifying dungeon beneath their feet, but he did know where the deed to his estate and other properties were kept. And now had enough connections with the higher up's of Baldur's gate for some frankly exquisite forgeries. It had been a particularly satisfying feeling to sell all of his former master's possessions off, even more so when it came to the land. Almost like he was tearing apart his legacy and handing it off to the highest bitter, piece by piece.

Though, being there with you to find and settle in your own little corner of paradise was an even better feeling. Maybe it didn't quite reach his past dreams of grandeur, but it turned out settling in a quaint and poorly lit townhouse in the upper city was more than enough for him to be satisfied.

It was a good charming life, one that Astarion was sure he didn't deserve. But that certainly wasn't going to stop him from enjoying it. Though as much as he adored where he ended up, he'd be lying if he said it was perfect.

No, perfect would have been finding a way for him to ascend without becoming a monster, living in a world where he could be with you fully, completely, out in the sun like the kind of lover you deserved. It made him feel... startlingly inadequate. Everything you did had to be in accordance to his schedule. His lack of capabilities. And just because you always insisted it didn't matter didn't fix the feeling of inadequacy. He hated it, hated the fact that there were so many hours of the day that you couldn't share. He didn't regret his choice, not for a moment, but that didn't mean he was fully satisfied with the consequences.

But in his own defense, he did make up for it in other ways. Mildly frustrating and draining ways, if not a bit rewarding. It had been his own fault, falling so utterly and completely for such a goody two-shoes. A zealot to Selune, as fierce as she was compassionate, always trying to do what was fair and just. Always dragging Astarion on for the ride of her cleric duties.

But he couldn't blame you for all of his new do-gooder ways. Not when he was nearly the leader of a bizarre cult of repentant vampire spawn.

It was just the slightest bit exhausting to so often be playing the part of their heroic leader, fighting all of his murderous instincts to work for a better future for himself and the brethren he had personally damned. Though he'd be lying if he said he didn't get any satisfaction from it. It felt... good to teach them new ways to live. To give them the chance at the beautiful life he had managed to secure for himself.

He wouldn't do it forever, just until he was confident enough to be sure that his departure wouldn't lead to a massacre on either side. Then the two of you would be off to explore the lands, working to do your goddesses work with just a touch of hedonistic activities on the way.

Astarion was looking forward to it. He hadn't done all that work to be selfless forever. No, he was going to be forced to insist on a few years of having you all to himself, with only the occasional bits of volunteer work for the temple as interruption. Then the two of you could go back to galivanting about the lands being local heroes. But he had earned an extended vacation.

One that, luckily, he hadn't had to fight you on too much. That was just one other thing he loved about you, your complete understanding that Astarion would always be a little selfish, especially when it came to you. The one person who had ever really been his, who loved him, who understood him, who believed in him. Could he be blamed for wanting to have you all to himself?

And admittedly, he did have you more often then not. Even if on occasion he did have to share with your beloved goddess.

Astarion sighed as he watched you pray in the moonlight, completely absorbed in your quiet, mystical chants. Despite his distaste for the length of your prayer sessions, Astarion did like seeing your more ritualistic side. Just... maybe not for the morally correct reasons.

He was well aware that being so involved with a vampire was clearly against your religious doctrine. But it didn't matter. You still choose him, despite how the knowledge nearly made you an outcast amongst your own kind. But he mattered more than your reputation, more than the lessons you had been taught your entire life regarding love and evil.

You still had your faith, but you never let it shake the faith you had in him, something that he valued more than he could ever express. It was perhaps a sick thought, but it also made him feel exceedingly powerful, to know the true extent of your feelings. Even more connected. It was almost... like he was defiling you, corrupting a beautiful flower to turn away from the sun to something even brighter. A love that Astarion doubted most could ever hope to feel.

Perhaps that was not the best outlook on your religion, but oh well. He'd keep those thoughts to himself. What you didn't know wouldn't kill you. Besides... if anyone had been corrupted it was him, plagued with a new sense of loyalty and gods, justice. All from the beautifully strange woman kneeling in the moonlight.

Though, you sure were taking awhile tonight. Nearly twice as long as your usual nightly prayer. He hated to interrupt your worship but this was starting to cut into his time a bit here.

"My dear," Astarion called out, swinging his legs over your shared bed to stand, "Don't you think that you've been kneeling there for a touch too long?"

But you didn't respond, still muttering under your breath, even faster than before.

Astarion narrowed his eyes as he walked closer towards you, confused by your lack of response, "Darling-Tav?"

Astarion stopped, eyes wide as he got a solid look at your first. Your eyes were wide open, body rim rod straight as your irises glowed a vibrant blue light.

What in the nine hells was happening? Astarion kneeled next to you, his heart in his throat as he shook your shoulders, "Tav, love, can you hear me? What is this?"

You didn't answer, you didn't even acknowledge his presence. But you did start floating in the god damn air. Astarion stared, helpless as he watched you levitate, words that he didn't understand spilling from your lips.

Then just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. You fell unceremoniously to the floor. Astarion scrambled towards you, his heart in his throat as you started to come to. He settled your head in his lap, his hands shaking as he touched your face, lost on what he should be doing.

You blinked your eyes open slowly, that angelic glow still radiating from your irises. But you didn't look frightened, more... excited.

You grinned up at him, your voice slightly cracking when you murmured, "We've been blessed."

Astarion stared at you, brow furrowed. He was happy you were alive and speaking but...

"That's lovely?" Astarion tried, "But severely lacking in terms of an explanation. Are you okay?"

You nodded eagerly, suddenly sitting up with an unexpected amount of energy, "I'll explain later, we don't have much time."

What was it that compelled you religious types to be so cryptic? But you didn't give him anytime to question. Instead you wrapping your arms around his neck and smashing your lips together, kissing him hard enough to take his breath away.

He wrapped strong arms around your back, pulling you in closer, always helpless but to return your affection. But something about this was different. He could feel it, holy magic spreading through him through your lips, down throughout his veins, changing something inside of him. It wasn't unpleasant per say, but it certainly was startling. Startling enough for him to almost push you away, if it wasn't for the fact that he trusted you with everything inside of himself.

Neither of you pulled away until the blue fire in your eyes had died out, and Astarion was left with the intense sensation that something had changed, irrevocably inside of him.

You stared at each other, Astarion in confusion while you looked nothing short of gleeful, "Do you feel it?"

He felt... strange. A warmth still spreading through him that was settling. Astarion raised a brow at you, exceedingly impatient when he asked, "First, how about you explain to me what in the hells that was?"

But you didn't answer. Instead you stood with an adorable hop, lending a hand out to help him up, "Do you trust me?"

Astarion almost rolled his eyes as he took your hand, annoyed that he fell for someone that had just as much of a flair for the dramatic as he did, "You know I do."

You helped him to his feet before you started to mumble again, a startlingly familiar incantation seeping from your lips. It was the spell for daylight, the very same that you had used to help defeat Cazador. The kind that could now kill Astarion in mere moments.

He was too shocked at your audacity to even protest, believing for a split, terrifying second that he was about to die a fiery death. Sunlight suddenly filled the room, bright enough for Astarion to tightly shut his eyes.

Then...nothing. No burning, no pain, nothing but the sounds of you both breathing.

That didn't-how was he-what did you just do?

Astarion stared at you, absolutely flabbergasted with his mouth hanging open, staring at the borrowed daylight like a simpleton, "But how?"

You were still grinning ear to ear, looking happier than Astarion had ever seen you before. You grasped his hands in yours, your smile gentle as you explained, "I told you. We were blessed. Our Lady of Silver gave me one gift, and this is what I choose."

If sunlight wasn't already staring him in the face, Astarion would never believe it. But here he was, alive and standing under it's warmth. A gift from a goddess, spent on him of all creatures.

"It can't fix everything," You clarified with the slightest frown, "But it can fix this."

He could feel the truth in your words. He was still... wrong. A creature born of something awful, doomed to eternity and a life of bloodlust. But part of that wrongness had been culled, curling up and dying from Selune's holy magic, from your enduring love.

It was a dream he never thought possible. One that he had accepted never having. But here he was, here you were, continuing to give him the impossible.

It was enough to bring tears to his eyes. Astarion reached up, cupping your face before confessing the truth he couldn't quell.

"I don't deserve you," He whispered, voice hoarse, "I'll never deserve you. Words can't express my thanks. You have given me everything, while I have nothing but myself to give in return. But it's always yours. Everything inside of me."

He meant every word, he always would. Until his last breath.

You shook your head, gentling cooing at him, "This is a time for celebration my love, not for doubt. You've earned this."

He hadn't. And he doubted you'd ever be able to convince him he had. But he'd still take it. Gladly.

"I love you," Astarion murmured, helpless to say anything else. He pressed his lips against yours, the gravity of his new life just starting to settle in his mind.

He was free, as free as he could ever hope for. You had achieved what Cazador could not, all without a hint of malice or horrifying sacrifice. But through kindness, love, and perseverance. You had already freed him once from his own mental shackles, his last remaining ties to the tyrant that made him.

And now you've done it again, saving him from at least a portion of the taint on his soul.

It was beautiful, wonderful, and Astarion would never waste a moment of it.

[ur-local-anti-hero]

Back to december

Remus Lupin x reader

Summary: Remus feels like he will regret that night the rest of his life, the marauders convince him to do something about it.

Genre: Hurt/comfort, Second chance romance

CW: Remus being self-destructive and questioning his worth.

Word count: 1.8K

This is part of my Speak now (Marauders' Version) collection.

“So this is me swallowing my pride standing in front of you, Saying I'm sorry for that night. And I'd go back to December all the time

It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you. Wishing I'd realized what I had when you were mine”

Remus sighed, his eyes were fixed into someone across the great hall. He was sitting with the marauders at their usual place, his fork was playing with the food in front of him, he hadn’t been able to eat ever since that night. 

“Come on mate, tell us what’s wrong. You’ve been sighing the whole dinner.” Sirius’ voice made him turn to him, seeing his three friends looking at him with worry written in their faces. 

“Nothing is wrong, I’ve already told you” Remus replied with the same excuse he had been using for days.

“Yeah and that’s why you’ve been looking at Y/N like a kicked puppy for the last week” James retored. “Tell me again, why did you two break up?” 

“How many times are you going to ask me that?” Remus sighed, tired of repeating the same conversation over and over with his friends. 

“Until you tell us the truth” Peter urged. 

“I’ve been telling you the truth, we wanted different things, the relationship wasn’t working” 

“Remus” Sirius’ voice was stern, and the lack of a nickname while referring to his best friend was jarring. “You two were the epitome of love, I had never seen you smile as much as you did with her, like, never.” 

“It’s hard to believe you, not even a day before you broke it off you were looking at her like she was the best thing that had ever happened to you. Your words, not mine.” James insisted. 

And he was right, Remus had never been as happy as he had been while dating you. The choice of breaking things off had been all his. He loved you so much it was terrifying, at some point all he could think about was how long he had left before you realised what he really was and you left him for someone better. You deserved someone better. 

“I really hope this has nothing to do with your monthly problem.” Peter’s voice was low, only for the four of them to hear. 

Remus couldn’t help it, he stiffened. Peter had nailed it and he wasn’t ready to let his friends know about how deep his insecurities really run. But, they noticed his frame changing from exhausted to on guard, Remus didn’t even say anything before the rest of the marauders understood what had happened. 

“Is that true Remus, did you break up with her because of that? I thought she already knew?” Sirius asked quietly, his previous anger now replaced with symphaty.  

“She knows now, and it doesn’t matter, just drop it. I’m done with the interrogation” Remus snapped at them before getting up and leaving the great hall, leaving his friends with dumbfounded expressions behind. 

───✥───

Lily meant well and you knew it, but if she kept asking you if you were okay you might explode. 

“How are you, Y/N?” Lily asked you, for the fourth time in the last hour. 

Ever since Remus had broken up with you Lily had been sitting next to you through all the meals, leaving her boyfriend's side, and afterwards she would walk you to your dorm. You appreciated her company and her friendship, but she was also a constant reminder that things were not as they were before, and therefore she was a constant reminder of your heartbreak. 

“I’ll be fine” was the answer you settled for every time she asked.

“I talked to James.” Lily hesitated before speaking “Are you really okay? He told me why you and Remus broke up…” 

Your eyes widened at that, if James had really told Lily about your break up that meant Lily knew about Remus being a werewolf, and as far as you were concerned he had never pushed her out of his life as he had done when you had been the one to bring it up. 

“You knew about…that?” you decided to keep it as vague as possible in case James had made something up to stop Lily from asking more details. 

She nodded “Ever since fourth year” 

“Did he tell you?” You needed to know, your hands were now shaking and your heart was racing. 

“No, I figured it out. Just like you did '' Lily's words calmed you down a little, if he had been able to confide in Lily but had never felt safe enough to tell you it would’ve made you feel awful. 

“The moment I brought it up he cut me off, we didn’t even have the chance to discuss it. He just broke up with me.” It was the first time you were being honest about it, and it just made everything hurt like if Remus was breaking up with you all over again. 

Lily stepped closer to you before wrapping you in a tight hug, her arms stroking your back in an attemp to comfort you. 

“I think you should talk to him, try to make things right again.” she whispered. 

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, he probably doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.” 

“Somehow I doubt that.” 

Maybe Lily was right, but you would never be brave enough to even try to prove her right.

───✥───

After storming out of the great hall Remus had locked himself in his dorm, he didn’t want any of the marauders to give him a speech about how he couldn’t let his lycanthopy affect his relationships. Because it had already affected the most important one he had. 

But of course his friends wouldn’t grant his wishes. 

“Remus, let me in, I want to talk with you. Please” Sirius was nothing but persistent. “Come on Moony, you know I’m not leaving.” 

Remus sighed, he’d been doing that a tad lately, but decided to let Sirius in. He wasn’t going to give up anytime soon, and he preferred to talk with him alone and not wait for James and Peter to join Sirius. 

When he opened the door Sirius didn’t waste a second and barged in, going directly to sit on Remus’ bed. 

“Oh, yes of course, make yourself at home on my bed.” Remus scoffed at him. 

“Come sit, Moony” 

Remus didn’t have the strenght to fight him, so he walked towards his bed and sat next to Sirius.

“What happened when she found out?” He wasn’t going to waste any more time. 

“She confronted me about it, asked me why I hadn’t told her.” Remus said sadly 

“Was she judgemental, was she scared or disgusted?” Sirius inquired, he knew you well, and you weren’t anything but lovely and understanding, being disgusted by Remus’ lycanthropy was not something he pegged you to be. 

“I didn’t give her the chance to really express what she thought of it” Sirius gave him a look of encouragement for him to continue. “I broke up with her before she could say something.” 

“Why?” 

“I think that if she had rejected me at that moment I would have never recovered from it, I was terrified.” He said, his words showing a rare vulnerability. 

“Do you regret it? Not giving her a chance. Do you really think she would’ve hated you?” 

“I regretted it the moment she walked out of the door, but I couldn’t risk it” 

“I think you should give her the chance, talk with her.” Sirius patted his shoulder

“If she didn’t hate me then, she defintely does now. She deserves better.” 

“I believe it’s not your call to choose what she does or does not deserve, give her the chance.” 

Maybe Sirius was right. 

───✥───

The Gryffindor common room was not very crowded after curfew, usually only a few seventh year students were spotted working on their class work after being kicked out of the library. 

But these days you would only find comfort on the couch in front of the fireplace, even if it was not a substitute for Remus’ warmth during the cold nights of december, it was the best you found. 

The quiet crack of the wood being burned and the weight of your blankets lulled you to sleep, your eyes were closed and your breathing slow, you were finally falling asleep when the weight of another body made the couch shift. 

“Y/N '' your name was called very quietly, barely above a whisper, but you could recognise the voice anywhere. 

“Remus” your eyes opened and you sat up, straightening yourself

Remus was sitting right next to you, far enough for his thighs to not touch you, but close enough for you to be able to read his expression in the dark room .

“Can we please talk?” He was fidgeting with his hands, clearly nervous of how this conversation was going to go. 

You hugged yourself before nodding. Then a beat of silence 

“I’m sorry.” you both said at the same time. Another silence took over the room before you both chuckled awkwardly. 

“I’m really sorry Y/N, I shouldn’t have cut you off like that. I was scared and I was impulsive, I know I can’t excuse my behaviour, and you don’t have to forgive me but I needed you to know.” He took a deep breath before continuing 

“I have never felt what I feel for you before, and only the thought of you leaving because of my lycanthropy terrified me. And the moment you confronted me about it I thought it was better if I was the one leaving. But I regretted it the moment I saw the tears in your eyes, and when you walked out of the door all I wanted was to take my words back. And I regret it every time I see you across the great hall instead of next to me. Words can’t begin to show how sorry I am.” 

Remus was now crying, he wasn’t the only one, your eyes had started to water the moment he started talking. You took his hand on yours before speaking. 

“It’s okay Rem, I forgive you. And I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I would hate you for being you” you said sincerely. 

There was a brief moment of silence in which you looked each other in the eyes, they were filled with tears, but also love. You swore no one had ever looked at you like that before.

"Can we try again, please?" He asked 

You didn't even answer, throwing yourself at his arms, which embraced you with the familiar warmth you desperately craved. 

"I've missed you so much, please never leave again" you sobbed into his chest 

"I won't, I promise" he said, placing a kiss on your temple. 

Maybe Remus should listen to Sirius' advice more often if they were going to help him get the love of his life back. 

Author's note: I'm so proud of this one I think it's super duper cute. I'm also dying with uni work at the moment, wish me luck, love u all <33 Thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed and very appreciated To be part of the taglist Dm me or send me an ask <3 Series' taglist: @feral-posts @izuoyarmin @aremuslupinsimp @yourfavgay @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo 

[hellishjoel]

off to the races

6.3k / dbf!joel x f!reader

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4

series summary: You and your parents rent a lakeside cabin, Joel and Sarah Miller are your neighbors. You’re all grown up, and you’ll do anything to prove to Joel you’re a woman now. 

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), NO OUTBREAK, neighbor!joel, age gap (reader is in their early 20’s while Joel is in his 40’s), alcohol consumption, slight daddy issues lol, cursing, use of pet names, dominant!joel, maybe a lil brat tamer!joel, oral sex (m receiving), a lil praise kink, a lil degradation kink, facial, etc. you know ;)

A/N: needed to get cool slutty daddy out of my system. He’s just a Lana coded man!! I plan on turning this into a series, I hope it get's some love! let me know what you think by sending me an ask!

Your desperate eyes met his, trying to gauge what he thought. You hated how you looked like you wanted him so bad. He was your neighbor, your friend’s dad, but you wanted him to be something for you too.  “I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doin-”  His words made your chest go tight and your eyes filled with pure horror. What have you done?! “But you need to be the one to walk away, because I don’t think I can.”

Summers in Danbury were what you looked forward to all year long when you were younger. You would love the long drive to the lakeside cabin, swimming in the dazzling blue water all day, and catching fireflies at night before ending it with roasting s'mores over the campfire. 

Now, all Danbury reminded you of were your parents stripping your feeling of independence as soon as you stepped in their embrace and the lack of cell service. 

It wasn’t all that bad, though. Who were you to complain about an all-expense paid vacation on the water? Your parents were fine, you just graduated from university, everything was just.. good. It almost made you a little bored, thinking about the impending summer. 

The warm sun’s kiss on your skin was a welcomed greeting after spending the past 9 months away at school out of state, your eyes twinkling below your sunglasses as you stepped out of the car. It was good to be back in Texas.

“Look, there she is!” Your dad cooed as he was eager to point out the sign that sat beside the entrance of the cabin that read ‘Life is Better at the Cabin’. Cheesy. It wasn’t your choice of decor since it was just a rental property, but still. You also despised the ‘The Secret Ingredient is Always Love’ sign in the kitchen. 

You plopped your bags down at the end of your bed, the one just down the hall from your parents, quick to plug in your phone charger though it made little difference with your lack of a strong signal. 

You turned your head to the window, seeing an old, beaten pickup truck turn onto gravel, a small smile peaking on your lips. 

“Hey, look who it is!” Your dad cheered eagerly from the living room, appearing to also be gazing out the window at the sight coming down the road and pulling into the house next to yours. 

The truck in question belonged to Joel Miller and his daughter, Sarah. Sarah had been your close friend each and every summer since you were little. You two were attached at the hip once your family started vacationing here, despite her being a fair five years younger. You two got along nonetheless. 

You stepped outside to greet them, as your mother and father were already out doing, your face lighting up as Sarah made a b-line to your embrace. “Oh my god! Look at you!” She praised, her eyes lighting up at your appearance. 

You two didn’t get the chance to spend the past few summers together due to business with school or internships on your part, so her surprise in seeing you a few years grown up was warranted. 

“Look at me? Look at you!” You said through punched lungs as she hugged you so tight you were losing your breath. 

If you thought Sarah’s tight hug was bad, you weren’t prepared to see what was waiting on the other side of the pickup truck. 

Your lips parted at the sight of Joel Miller. He was sort of… handsome. Was that wrong to think that? I mean, he was so much older than you, someone’s dad, Sarah’s dad. You tried not to let your eyes linger for too long but his voice pitched into the conversation and you had been caught. 

“Hey, Skids.” Ugh. That dreaded nickname you had yet to wear off. “Haven’t seen you these past few summers. Happy to be done with school?” Joel’s southern drawl was a shock to your system after being up in the Midwest for school. 

He was tall and rugged, so unkempt. His hair was tousled everywhere and his beard was growing with salt and pepper stippling through the landscape of his jawline. He looked hot, the faint glisten and stain of sweat marking the collar of his shirt and at the sides of his biceps. 

You blinked a few times before a graceful smile fluttered on your lips.

“Hi, Mr. Miller.” You gently cooed. What? If he could call you by that horrid nickname he had given you when you were barely ten, you could call him by his surname. Your eyes caught his own shift, his jaw twitching at his name being called like that. It was just his name after all, right? 

“Joel.” He corrected with a raised eyebrow, your eyes finally dragging themselves away from his handsome character as they turned to your parents, who were obsessing over Sarah. She was about to go into her senior year of high school, so of course, they had all of the basic questions to ask her. Are you taking any advanced classes? Are you still on the swim team? Do you know where you want to go to college?

You tried to look interested, but you could still feel Joel’s gravitating stare in your direction. 

You were just imagining things, right? He was looking one foot over, to Sarah and your family. Except he wasn’t. You know because you snuck a casual glance over to him, and he was still on you. His gaze alone made a shiver travel up your spine. 

While Sarah and your parents were nestled in their own world of conversation, you take a few subtle steps away and join him by his truck. It still felt warm, the engine relaxing after a good drive in the Texas heat. 

“You need a new truck. She looks like she’s on her deathbed.” You point out, the one corner of his mouth tugging up as he kept his eye on Sarah and your folks with his arms crossed in front of his broad chest. 

“She’s just fine.” He retorts nonchalantly. You hated that about him. You could never figure out what he was thinking, unpredictable but not exactly chaotic. 

“She?” You asked with raised eyebrows. “I always knew you had a special woman in your life. Didn’t know she was so old, though.” You egged him on, your favorite pastime in the summers; Grinding the gears of an old man who had a bigger attitude than you most days. 

“You still have quite the mouth on you. Glad to see that hasn’t changed.” Joel said sarcastically as he pushed himself off the front of the truck with his hip, his head nodding off to the side in a silent way of telling you to follow him. You watched as he pulled down the tailgate, rust screeching until it stopped with a generous thump. 

“Supposed to be Sarah helping me with this, but since she’s busy being Miss Danbury, you can help me.” He said as he pointed to some firewood and other bigger pieces of wood in varying sizes. 

“What do you plan on doing with all this wood anyway? I think the Amazon is looking for it.” You huffed but climbed up into the back of the truck bed without him asking you to. His protective hand instinctively guided your hip for stability, and you felt a rush of air pump through your lungs. “Thanks.” You murmur before you start reaching for stacks you could handle. 

“Sarah wanted to throw y'all a bonfire with it being your first day back for the summer or what have you.” Before you could stop yourself, you were already cooing at him as you jumped down from the tailgate, watching as Joel gave a tight face of annoyance. Don’t do that, you’re gonna get yourself hurt. 

It took Joel all of two seconds to grab two of the larger cut pieces, throwing each of them onto his shoulders. You couldn’t help but stare at his biceps that cradled the wood, the tan skin and muscles popping out of the dark green t-shirt he wore. Focus, focus, focus, focus, focusfocusfocus. 

“And the bigger pieces? What are those for?” You asked out of sheer curiosity now once he threw them down in the back of his lawn, the sight of your parents and Sarah long gone. 

He shrugged and shook his head, his hands on his hips as a layer of sweat started to build up around his hairline. “Just carvin’ projects. The rest can be used for scrap lumber around the lake properties.” His head finally turned to look at you, his eyes raking you up and down for a moment before nodding to your lake house rental. “Doin’ property maintenance over the summer on the houses ‘round here.”

“So if we need maintenance, we call you now?” You asked with a dubious face, to which he nodded. 

This man never stopped. It made sense, you supposed. You reflected on the summers in the past, knowing Joel to manage his own contracting business and picking up odd jobs around town. You remember one summer, he redid the flooring of an old bakery in town and then built custom shelves for the loaves of bread and bagels. Another summer, he repaved people’s driveways with blacktop. He was a laborer, a blue-collar man through and through. 

“That’s right, Skids.” The nickname made you scowl at him again, but you wouldn’t mind seeing Joel Miller laid under your kitchen sink or repairing the window in your bedroom so it could finally let in some fresh air. Frankly, you just wouldn’t mind seeing Joel Miller. 

After Joel reclaimed his daughter from your parents with a snarky yet subtle, Thanks for all your help, kiddo to Sarah, he said goodbye to you and your family as everyone parted ways back to their own homes. 

-

You were tired from the drive, but you didn’t lack attendance to the bonfire Sarah was putting together specifically for you in a welcome back to Danbury! sort of celebration. She invited the other nearby neighbors, so by the time you finally joined, it was packed with people sitting around the fire. People who lived on the lake loved a good party, anything with beer to keep them occupied. 

It was a lot of talking and bottles clinking, marshmallows on sticks, and a crackling fire blazing at the center of everyone. You weren’t one for beer but Sarah insisted on feeding you bottle after bottle. 

She liked sharing secrets with you, away from her dad. She considered you someone she could tell anything to. And you felt the same way. So not more than half an hour later, you two were giggling and sitting on the tailgate of Joel’s old pickup truck when you saw him start to saunter over.  You saw him coming first, snatching Sarah’s bottle out of her hand and taking a sharp inhale as you hid away your own. Sarah’s secret, right? 

“Dad,” she playfully whined when he came over to bust their little party. 

He was silent for a moment before he looked at the dwindling flames. “Fire’s gettin’ low.” He pointed out, looking between the two of you.

His face was lit up in a mix of gold hue from the fire and silver from the moon. His face had this intensity, a bucked-out jawline, cheekbone, and nose. It was like he was carved from stone. 

Sarah was silent, not wanting to leave behind her friends at the bonfire to shuffle over more wood. You softly nodded as you took a swig of her beer bottle in your hand before setting it down once you hopped off the truck bed. 

“I can help.” You offered. Joel looked down at you hesitantly, sneaking a glance to where your parents sat around the growing circle of people.

“Yeah.. yeah, ‘lright.” Joel said as the two of you walked off to the dividing line on his property, the wood you had dropped carelessly earlier in the day now in a neat stack. You certainly weren’t drunk, but slamming Sarah’s beer along with the other ones she ushered you before was now messing with your head, the edges of your vision a little fuzzy, especially in the dark since the glow of the bonfire was at such a distance. 

Before you knew it, you were stacking the wood into your arms, too much maybe. Joel called out your name in a warning tone. 

“No, I got it! See?” You tried to reason with a cocky smile as he shook his head. 

“You don’t like to listen.” He gruffly said as he started picking up the smaller pieces as they fell out of your arms. 

You couldn’t help the playful scoff that left your lips, still insistent on stacking more in your arms, going as far as tucking some in your elbows but all they did was drop at your feet once you went to reach for more. 

“Stop bein’ so damn difficult.” He piped up again as he snagged your wrist, halting your movements. 

“Yeah? I thought you liked difficult women.” Your words were fast like a whip, your eyes challenging his own as the two of you shared unnecessarily long eye contact. 

“Drop-- the wood. Stop bein’ a-” 

“A what?” You challenged. The distance between you two suddenly felt like it was becoming air-tight, his eyes narrowing on yours as his features hardened. He didn’t look mad, lord knows you’d never want to actually make Joel Miller mad. He just looked-- provoked. 

“A brat.” He finally bit, your teeth clenching at the name. The shock of it all made your arms finally burst open like a dam breaching with water, all of them falling to your feet as you let out an involuntary squeal. God, you did not want him to hear that noise leave you like that. 

You finally tugged away your wrist from his hand, your eyes leaving his daggered gaze to examine your palm that had a decent size splinter plunged into the center of it. 

“Shit,” You swore, feeling whatever heat you had left in your body pooling to your stringing finger. 

You heard Joel let out a debated sigh before he took you by your wrist, much more gentle this time, and tried to bring it up closer to his eyes to examine it. 

“Can’t see for shit out here.” He grumbled. You couldn’t see it either but you could feel right where it spread searing pain through the rest of your hand. 

“I got some tweezers in my workshop, I’ll get it out.” Joel offered as he started walking a few paces but you let out an involuntary whimper at the sound of him taking it out. 

“You don’t want that to get infected, do you?” He asked with a true voice of reason, to which you let out a sigh of agreement and followed him to his workshop.

You had only been inside Joel’s workshop a handful of times. You remember once your dad dragged you over so he could talk to Joel about his truck, and you had to wait there and wait there until they finished gabbing. Another time was when you explored it on your own, your eyes fascinated by the little world he surrounded himself in. It wasn’t all wood like you’d expect it to be. He had old guns mounted on the wall, ladders hung up in the rafters, and dusty old fishing plaques that made you disgusted at the sight. It housed his tools, the same ones he had been using for years. He knew where they were by heart, not even looking when he reached for something. Everything had its place, down to the tweezers he immediately found in an old little toolbox. 

“Here,” he said as he pointed to an old metal stool as tall as your waist. You sat down on the cold metal, a little hiss of discomfort leaving you as he sighed. “Always somethin’.” Joel shook his head and offered you a spare dusty blanket, shaking your head. 

“Just-- fix my hand. Please.” You said as you displayed your palm to him, now seeing it in the light for the first time. Okay.. it didn’t actually look as bad as it felt. Joel actually smiled as he looked at the tiny sliver shoved into the skin. 

“..Might have to amputate it.” He said with a half-serious tone, as joking as Joel could sound. But there was a little glint in his eye, one of satisfaction from his own joke.  

“Joel Miller has a sense of humor? I’m surprised. And pleasantly delighted.” You teased as he huffed and shook his head, the smile that graced his lips already came and gone. Sort of. He just looked down at your hand so you couldn’t directly see it anymore. 

It took you until now to see that he changed out of his dark green shirt from this afternoon and into an old 80’s rock band shirt with a worn dark navy flannel over it. He must have showered after laboring in the Texas heat. The thought made your stomach churn in excitement. 

You shivered at how cold you felt all of a sudden, no longer by the warm fire and on this damn metal stool. You shifted uncomfortably on it, cursing yourself for wearing jean shorts. 

Joel let out an exasperated sigh as he stood up straighter and shoved off his flannel, your eyes softening at the sight. 

“You want me to take tweezers to your hand but you keep... shiftin’ around. Stand up.” He directed, and this time you didn’t debate with him. You hopped off the metal stool and he laid down the flannel. It was a nice gesture and you were grateful. You hoped the goosebumps were from the temperature, not how close he was. 

Joel pulled up another metal stool so he could steady himself, reeling himself in as close as he could and holding your palm open in his as his eyes squinted a little bit. 

You felt frozen in place, your lips parting as you slowly looked down to one of his knees that parted between your own legs. Fuck. You weren’t sure if it was the little buzz of beer still in your system but something drove you to have enough courage to gently lay your hand just above his kneecap. 

His eyes flicked up to yours, trying to read what was behind your thought process right now. He looked so confident, you feared you looked all shifty. 

You could feel the worn denim of his jeans under your palm but underneath, he was warm. He was as hot as a furnace as your body craved it. 

“The sliver.” You pointed back out, your voice smaller since you two were in such close proximity. You watched his chest heave as he took a deep breath, grumbling something under his breath before he focused back to his initial task. 

You pursed your lips as you both watched and felt the tweezers line up to the red and irritated skin, his movements precise and patient until you watched him clench the tool closed. 

You let out an involuntary breath of both relief and anticipation, just wanting it out already. 

“Hold on, just gotta make sure I..” Joel’s voice trailed off as he slowly pulled the tiny sliver from your palm, an uncomfortable whine leaving the back of your throat. 

His thigh twitched under your palm at the sound, not even realizing your hand had sunk higher up his jean-clad thigh. 

“Got it.” He finally said, swiping the tip of the tweezer on the table to display the nasty little piece of wood that had caused you all this grief. You let out a breath through your nostrils and nodded. 

“Thank God, no amputation.” You joked, to which he awarded you a small smile. 

“I’ll call the surgeon and tell ‘em to turn around. We’re good here.” Joel said as he gently released your wrist. You watched his features carefully, seeing his lips part as he glanced down to his leg that your hand still held for balance. 

“What’er you doin’?” He finally asked, his voice dropping an octave at the question. Shit. 

Don’t read this wrong, or this will be the most awkward interaction you and Joel have had to date. This is worse than when he saw you fall out of the inner tube while boating, worse than when some kid tripped you at the town barbeque, worse than when you fell off Sarah’s scooter so hard that he gave you the nickname Skids. 

“Woah, Skids! Better slow down!” God, that was so many years ago. His chuckle still echoed in your ears.

Now you were older, you were a woman. You had long legs and glowing skin, and a smile that knocked guy’s out of the fuckin’ park! But he was older too, older than you, younger than your dad but god, not by much. You were so close to him, you could inhale the distant smell of the bonfire, the one he probably made instead of Sarah. He also smelled like an old spice deodorant and fucking cigarettes. 

He was stingy, and greasy, and hot, and Joel. 

Your years of anticipation thinking about him like this was over. 

You bit down on your lower lip, your mind was foggy with the rushing in your heart,  feeling your ears pound and your palm still seared. He was a head taller than you while you sat together, and before you could stop yourself, you were leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his pulse. 

Your lips lingered around his neck for a moment, the sensitive skin of your mouth feeling beard stubble and tasting distant cologne. Your breath fanned over the skin, clammy but sweet with his sweat. 

He didn’t stop you, his eyes merely watching you carefully. 

“What’er you doin’?” He asked again, but this time, his words sounded more-- goading. Do it, I know you won’t. You’re chicken shit. If you know what you want, do it. 

Your heart raced as you nearly leaped off the stool, closing the distance between you two as you stood between his legs. Your hand moved higher on his thigh, so close that you were nearly touching the leather of his belt. Your mouth returned to the sweet spot of his pulse while your injured hand reached up to the opposite side of his neck to gently hold him there. 

“Joel,” you whispered his name breathlessly, asking him for more, feeling his head drop down beside yours. You feared you embarrassed yourself, he wasn’t reciprocating, he wasn’t--

The thoughts brewing in your head bubbled down to a boil as his firm arm wrapped itself low around your waist, keeping you to his front as he pulled down to look at you with a stern look on his face.. You were so fucked. 

Your desperate eyes met his, trying to gauge what he thought. You hated how you looked like you wanted him so bad. He was your neighbor, your friend’s dad, but you wanted him to be something for you too. 

“I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doin-” 

His words made your chest go tight and your eyes filled with pure horror. What have you done?!

“But you need to be the one to walk away, because I don’t think I can.”

His words surprised you. He didn’t think he could walk away from you right now? Holy shit. 

Your heart was pumping so hard under his watchful gaze, seeing his eyes look from yours to your parted lips. But he didn’t kiss you, you don’t think you would let him. It felt too intimate. You just didn’t want another boring summer in Danbury and you were determined to have a fling. 

Who knew it would be with Joel Miller. But you wanted him. 

Your brave hands took him by the chest of his shirt, your mouth moving to his jawline as you balanced the tightrope of kissing and nibbling on the skin before your hands moved south to find his belt buckle. 

His legs naturally parted for you, catching a brief smirk on his lips as you took control of the situation. 

“Dirty girl goin’ right for my fuckin’ cock.” He whispered against the shell of your ear, a desperate nod leaving you while your cheek involuntarily rubbed against the stubble of his beard. You didn’t know he talked like that.

You initiated more space for yourself, nudging the inside of his thighs with your own legs as you had his back up against his drafting table with you no longer on his side but standing in front of him. 

Your quick fingers desperately undid his belt, feeling the old leather under your fingers. You didn’t have the balls to look at him and frankly, you were afraid you would lose your nerve if you did. 

His hands were encouraging for your nervous system, firm palms planted into your hips and even going as far as to squeeze the flesh that sat under your jean shorts. His body warmed you up, his eyes admiring you as you plucked open the button on his jeans. 

You pushed your tongue against your cheek in concentration, all of a sudden desperate at the thought of having him in your mouth. You dragged down the zipper, the relaxed denim exposing the black briefs he wore underneath that hugged his tan hips. 

You slowly sunk to your knees before him, as if you were worshiping a God. Maybe you were, it was Joel Miller, after all.

“This what you were learnin’ off at school?” Joel belittled, your head doing a few quick nods as a flush stained your cheeks. God. Something about Joel calling you a slut had you in a tailspin. You couldn’t wait anymore. 

Your fingers delicately felt over the impressive growth that his briefs held down, biting down on your bottom lip as you let your pointer finger make the outline of his girth. 

He let out an audible grunt at the action, his jaw jutted out, and his eyes filled with lust. “Lemme see that pretty mouth.” He practically purred, your chest rising and falling in anticipation as you slowly opened your mouth for him. You felt the intrusion of his thumb, a guttural moan leaving your throat as your big eyes stayed on his. He pinched at the inside of your cheek for a moment, your eyes twinging closed and opening back up with twinkling tears on the brim of flowing. 

“Good girl, keep that mouth open for me.” He encouraged as he pushed two fingers past your lips, testing you. And you were more than willing to accept his little challenge. His fingers pushed on the back of your tongue, feeling your lips graze all the way to his knuckle as you worked on breathing through the feeling of his fingers shoved down your throat. 

You were determined for him not to get the best of you, to prove how you had some experience under your belt. Your tongue willingly swirled around his digits, humming softly as you suckled. Now it was his turn to look like he was ready to fold. You felt him swell in your hand, the hand still stroking over his erection in his briefs. 

He ripped back his fingers, leaving them with a pop to your lips. Holy shit. You took a few deep breaths and swallowed, blinking back the tears that his fingers provoked from going so far down. 

“Damn, baby, look so pretty down on your knees for me. Don’t make me wait ‘ny longer.” Joel’s breaths were heavy, his southern drawl exaggerated in his lust-filled state. 

A proud smirk laced on your lips, his eyes on you as he watched you pry down the material of his briefs, watching as he lightly lifted his hips off the stool and using the drafting table behind him as leverage to let his jeans and boxers rest comfortably around the top of his thighs. What you had been craving slapped eagerly into the palm of your uninjured hand, an unexpected little moan leaving you. 

You studied his cock with anticipation, the glowing pinkish-red tip glistening with pre-cum from all the anticipation. He was generous in size, he would be the biggest you had ever taken. He was just… grown. You let out a satisfied little mmm, smirking up at him as your fist wrapped delicately around the base as you pumped over just the bottom half of him. 

Your hand came up to push some hair behind your ear but Joel was quick to handle that for you, stroking the stray pieces back behind your ear and then planting his palm right on the top side of your head. He tried to guide you closer but you just continued to smirk at him, a desperate grunt leaving the back of his throat. 

“Don’t play with me, kitten.” The nickname had you fawning, much better than the other nickname he had given you in the past. Maybe this new one would replace the old, the girl he dismissed before now a woman whose attention he craved. 

You guided his tip to gently tap at your flattened tongue, using his base to guide him until you generously wrapped your mouth around his leaking head. He let out a satisfied hiss which made you smirk, knowing you were the one making him dance on the line between pain and pleasure. 

You let out an involuntary mewl as the fist he had made in the back of your hair forced you further down his rigid member, feeling wet tears threatening to spill over your waterline as his tip nudged against the back of your throat. He said not to play with him and you disobeyed. 

Your palms flattened to the front of his thighs as you pushed yourself off of him, gasping for air as you swallowed the mixture of your spit and his leakage that clogged your throat. 

“So fuckin’ pretty chokin’ on me like that, such a pretty face.” He sneered, referring to your teary eyes. But the compliment made you blush and the choking and sobbing was all of a sudden worth it for the praise. 

After that, you craved to take all of him just like he wanted. Your head worked in subtle bobs, taking inch by inch of him at a time. Sometimes his hand in your hair guided you, allowing you to take him with confidence as he let out disgusting groans and low moans. 

Your gluck, gluck, glucks filled the shed, hot pants leaving your mouth around him but not willing to let your head up. Trails of your saliva attached themselves from his balls to your lips, the sight being a trophy for your hard earned deep throating. He was already so close, you couldn’t bear not to taste the prize you had worked so hard for. 

All of a sudden, Joel stood up from his seat at the drafting table and you couldn’t help but show a look of disappointment. You thought he was done, going to leave you like a mess on the floor with bruises on your knees from the cold concrete and your slobbery mouth feeling his loss. 

Your wet eyelashes fluttered as he returned to fist the hair at the top of your head and angled your face upward, watching as his other hand yanked on his member. The sight made your jaw drop. 

“Where do you want me to finish?” His words were pained, stretched thin as he tried to hold out for an answer from you. But you wanted him to finish, you wanted to watch his face contort from the wake of his orgasm that you helped create. 

“Mmm,” you hummed out as you purposefully prolonged his finish, watching as his chest puffed and his skin grew rosy from the heat flooding his body. Your cockiness was punished by a tighter grip in your hair, yanking your head closer to his shaft to force a real answer out of you. Your scalp stung but only a smile was on your face. 

“You wanna cum on my face, Mr. Miller?” You asked in the most innocent tone you could muster, your mouth parting at the sight of him. He looked heavenly. The glow from his shed lights made him appear as if he had an angelic glow. But you knew he was hellish, nothing close to an angel. 

Joel let out a scoffy little grunt at your question, a wicked smile gracing his lips as his hooded eyes slowly fell completely closed as the shock of his orgasm coursed through his body. 

You eagerly watched and you hated how hungry you knew you looked right now. You licked your lips, eager for his taste, eager to make the Joel Miller cum. You were desperate. 

His cock began twitching in his hand, watching as he methodically yanked out his own orgasm. His eyes lazily glanced between his shaft and to your large eyes, slowly smirking at the sight of you holding out for him. 

“Let me see that tongue, darlin’.” His words were breathy, just on the edge of no return. You obeyed, dropping your jaw and flashing him your tongue as you fluttered your eyelashes. At the sight alone, he finished himself off with eager grunts and short moans, you swore one of them was your name. 

His hot cum landed on your face, your eyes closing in satisfaction with a cocky smile. Most landed on your tongue, a few piping hot white strands splattered like paint on your cheeks and nose. All the air in your lungs left you as he tapped his pulsing tip eagerly against your tongue, watching with his jaw slack as he let the rest pool onto your tongue and down your throat. 

You swallowed knowing he was watching, his hand in your hair relaxing. He tasted better than you expected, a new craving. 

Instead of fisting your strands, he started stroking them away from your messy face, praising you as he tucked himself back into his pants.

Both no longer in the hot fantasy you swore you imagined once, you tried to collect yourselves. You shakily stood up from the ground, your knees cold from the concrete. You wipe off any dust or dirt they may have collected, sneaking glances at Joel as he fastened his belt around his waist once more and popping the button of his jeans back into place. 

You glanced around for a tissue, your back to him as you cleaned up your face. Oh my god, you were wiping Joel Miller’s cum off your fucking face.  As the two of you pieced yourselves back together, he reached for his discarded flannel that he had given you still resting on the metal chair you previously abandoned before settling between his legs. 

“Said you were cold. Take it.” He said as he fisted some of the material and looked at you expectantly. You sighed before gently taking the material and wrapping yourself in its warmth. 

As he placed a bandaid on your palm to cover your futile wound, you admired the flannel in all of its unknown beauty. 

It was one of his older ones, you sort of felt bad because you could only assume it was one of his favorites. It adorned a few minor holes and rips, some of which were badly stitched back together in an attempt to salvage it for another few years. Despite its appearance, you melted into it because it smelled like him. It smelled smoky like his cigarettes or maybe that was just the residual smoke from the bonfire. As you walked outside, you could smell it clearer.

Sandalwood with a hint of cinnamon, you wondered what cologne he used. 

Your head was lost in thought as you began to wander back towards the bonfire, a sharp clearing of his throat bringing you back to your senses. You whipped around, seeing as he pointed to the stray wood you had dropped from earlier.

“Oh-” you said bashfully as you returned to the pile with him, both of you knelt down picking up stray pieces. Once you started piling the wood in your arms again, he let out a short chuckle from deep inside him as he held your wrist from stacking more. 

“That’s enough for now, just go.” You liked seeing his face lit up like that, knowing you were the cause of it being even better. 

“Okay, Mr. Miller.” You cooed quietly, his face hardening at the name of adoration you had given him. 

“Okay, Skids. I’ll be seein’ you.” He said with a tight nod of his head, his eyes directing you back to the fire. You set down the firewood by the rocks surrounding it as a barrier, clearing your throat as you returned to the tailgate. You could still taste his cum on your tongue. 

No one seemed to notice your trip taking unexpectedly longer than necessary. Your parents were both swaying their heads and laughing, empty bottles by the legs of their folding lawn chairs to explain their obvious lack of awareness. 

Sarah had joined up with other friends in your absence, but you didn’t mind. 

You finally had a moment to reflect on what had just taken place in Joel’s shed. You let your vacation house neighbor cum in your mouth. Your older, stoic, stubborn ass of a neighbor. 

As if on cue, Joel returned to the side of his truck with his body leaning against the tailgate. His jean-clad hip lightly grazed your thigh, glancing over to see him offering you a beer. 

“Since you’re all grown up now.” He said with a little spark behind his eyes. You nodded and took the opened beer with a growing smile. 

“Cheers.” He offered as he held out his bottle to clink with yours. 

“Cheers to another summer in Danbury.” You tell him. 

He cocked his eyebrow and glanced over to you one more time before he focused his eyes on the growing fire. 

“This one ain’t quite like the rest.” It almost sounded like a promise from him. You hoped it was. Because you were wearing his flannel and you were on his knees for him tonight, you wondered what experience of Joel could offer you this summer. 

---

read part 2 - dark paradise!

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[starkwlkr]

Hey can I request a Ruby fic where she’s visiting Charles to one of the races and paps have unintentionally scared her so Charles goes into protective father mood. Thank you. I love your ruby universe very much.

mean | charles leclerc

I’m just going to make this take place during the miami gp idk why but i just think since there’s a lot of celebrities and influencers (🙄) going to miami there’s more paparazzi (I THINK IDK IF THAT HAPPENS) so yeah <3

Charles was proud of Ruby’s outfit choice, mainly because he had picked it out himself. Ruby had her hair in two braids, some shorts and Charles had gotten her a Ferrari baseball jersey so they could match all day. Y/n decided to stay behind a bit in the hotel with Mathéo so he could take a nap before they joined them in the paddock.

“Is Jack coming?” Ruby asked her father as they walked into the paddock. She loved playing around the paddock with Jack and always asked if the boy was going to be at the next race.

“I’m not sure. But we can always play together. There’s a big field and I can ask someone for a ball.” Charles explained to the girl. There was not doubt that finding a ball for Ruby to play with was going to be hard to find. They were inside a stadium after all.

Several photographers saw the father and daughter enter so they took out their cameras and started taking pictures of them. Charles didn’t like the idea so he took off his sunglasses and placed them on Ruby’s face even though they were a bit bigger on hers. He then lifted her up into his arms and tried his best to shield her away from the photographers.

“Papa, why are they taking pictures?” Ruby questioned. From under then sunglasses, she saw flasses of light.

“It’s their job, Ruby. I don’t like it either.” He admitted as he continued walking to the Ferrari garage.

“Charles! Charles! A picture with your daughter please!”

Ruby could hear her father’s name being yelled more and more. She didn’t like it. She saw the men with the cameras follow them. To her, it was like the monsters from the fairytales in her books were following her and her papa. She snuggled up to Charles’ neck causing the glasses to fall from her face. In that moment, every photographer tried their best to take pictures of the young girl.

“Papa!” Ruby yelled as she was blinded by the lights. (I promise this is not a musical reference oops)

“Can you back up?! No, don’t take pictures of her!” Charles raised his voice at the men.

Still, they ignored him.

“Hey!” A loud voice was heard from behind the group of men. “Leave them alone. Go bother someone else.”

Charles watched as the photographers backed away once they heard Lewis yell at them. He stayed with Charles and Ruby until the last photographer left. “You okay, man?” Lewis asked Charles.

“Yeah, I wish they could just leave us alone all the time. Y/n hates them.” Charles said. He then pressed a kiss to Ruby’s cheek. “Are you okay, Mon chéri?”

Ruby slowly nodded. Her attention was on her papa’s glasses on the floor. Lewis noticed and grabbed the glasses. “I believe these belong to you, Miss Leclerc.”

“They’re papa’s! They’re big on me!” She laughed when Lewis tried to put them on face.

“You sure? They look much better on you.” Lewis laughed.

“Thank you.” Ruby smiled at the Mercedes driver.

“Thanks Lewis. We have to leave, but I’ll see you later.” Charles nodded at the driver.

“No problem. Bye, Ruby.” Lewis waved goodbye to the girl.

“Bye! Say hi to Roscoe!”

As the day went by, Charles kept Ruby close to him until Y/n arrived. If he wasn’t available to look after Ruby, Pierre and Kika took care of her. Charles wasn’t going to let the photographers ruin Ruby’s day.

Now in the Alpine hospitality, Kika sat next to Ruby coloring on a piece of paper with the girl. Charles and Pierre sat next to each other across from the girls talking about the lack of security. Ruby managed to understand some of the words they were saying.

“They were mean. They yelled at papa.” Ruby added.

“They did?” Pierre asked, gasping a bit.

Ruby nodded. “They are so mean! And loud and scary! What if they yell at mama and Théo?”

“I’m going to make sure mama and Théo don’t get yelled at by the mean scary men. Don’t worry.” Charles assured his daughter.

“Kika, can I tell you something?”The girl said to the woman. She then cupped her hands and whispered some words into Kika’s ear. Both Charles and Pierre watched, wondering what the little girl could’ve told Kika.

Kika then gasped just like Pierre had done. “Really? Then he’s the best papa in the world!”

Ruby nodded and giggled. “He is!”

Kika saw the confused faces on the drivers and asked Ruby if it was okay to share the information she had just told her. Ruby nodded and grabbed her crayon to continue coloring.

“She said that her papa was protecting her from the mean scary men and that he was very brave.” Kika said and watched Charles’ lips turn into a smile.

No matter what, Charles would always protect his little girl from anything. (Even in the future when she would start dating, yeah he would never be ready for that.)

[tocomplainfriend]

I am mad

Yup!

Bro shut up, she is white - being Latina is not a race, is an not the same as color skin. And she is a second generation immigrant too. So like... this isn't like a Salvadorian person doing a cartoon, is a daughter of Salvadorians... That grew in the USA. Being Latino doesn't mean you aren't white, you can be any race and Latino. Still wouldn't make up for the lack of representation or the existing racism. In the piece of media that's "diverse".

Salvadorian is not a race, LMAO. That's crazy- you think someone from Argentina who is white, is not white cause of their nationality??? Being Latino and having that culture does not equal a race. It's in itself a racist thing. This Latino = Race is terrible, It also comes from the idea of the "You are not Latino because you are not brown", assuming all people from Latino America are brown by default. You know how much has that happen to me? -AND MANY OTHER PEOPLE.

(I'm Latino btw)

I already have an older post about it, but - you can really see the lack of diversity in the show a lot. (Will talk about it even more other day).

Again the main thing you get is MEN, hypersexual skinny queer men (cis). You won't get to see female characters being well written, thought all the season 1 and all the episodes we got rn of season 2. All characters are skinny and similar body types and repetitive design choices. Funny enough, shows that lack of human characters still have better race-coding that helluva. (and well in hazbin you'll get POC characters that are gray, lack all ethic features... even when they are humanoid. So that is great.)

Bro you could, you imagine a character being black and having different textured hair, and you go to hell... AND EVEN THO YOU ARE HUMANOID- your hair became straight and spiky, and you are now a light gray? If you build a world like that... it just seems like the perfect racist excuse to delete ethic features out a POC character because you don't want to draw them. "Not going to a single hint of their race/culture unless it revolves on their death"... If the character became a fucking coin with dot eyes, maybe (not really, shows with no human/humanoid characters still are capable to race-code their characters). But all of these characters are humanoid- why do none of them have their different characteristics? Also, this is about a real person in the real world choosing how to design a character.

This tweet also implies that a black character when they were a life they had ethic features, but lose them when they go to hell. Which is even more fucking stupid.

If a white person with straight hair goes to hell, and their hair remains straight (assuming it has nothing to do with their death), why wouldn't there be black people with textured hair? This is dumb. This goes back to the fucking thing of "No black people in fantasy media", In the same way, it's stupid for fantasy stories to revolve around white people characteristics in fictional species and people in that world- not including all the rest of diverse human characteristics POC people have it's crazy. The biggest problem here is why the fuck all Viv's sinners characters (main characters designed by her) that are supposed to black (or mixed like Alastor) have 0 characteristic. THEY ARE HUMANOID, THEY AREN'T EVEN ABSTRACT OR AN ANIMAL OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT. She didn't want to draw that nor change designs, and wanted to justify the whole concept of Alastor even using Voodou.

HOW ARE ALL THE ANGELS THAT VIV WANTS TO BE BLACK (black voice actors specified, or are race specified) HAVE NOTHING??? LIKE HELLO THE 'I'm such a nice angel character girl' HAS SPIKY STRAIGHT HAIR??? SHE IS AN ANGEL AND BLACK, WHY DIDN'T YOU DID HER HAIR TO BE CLOUDS- It's THE EASIEST SHIT YOU COULD’VE DONE.

BOOM! A FUCKING TROLL FROM A KIDS MOVIE WITH DIFFERENT HAIR. BOOM! THE FUNK TROLLS ARE SO EXPLICITLY BLACK CODED.

---

-

Bro, you know this whole thing of people with textured hair have to forcefully straighten their hair or wear wogs to a job... because people consider it ""Unprofessional"" cause racism? The erasure and discrimination of POC people and their features is a problem. That's why it is important to people represent all of those things:

(Marvel's Moon Girl and Devil Dinosaur)

The only reason of why Alas tor is even mixed is purely cause Viv used the Voodou symbols because she thought they were creepy and edgy. It's sucks that all the angels and sinners that are supposed to be black have nothing.

[sukunasun]

may i pls get some alpha sukuna… he’s so nasty (affectionate)

sukuna's every bit the perfect alpha on paper. ask the potential omegas lining up to fix a nest in his home and watch them salivate for a knot so large and a bond so deep. an alpha they'll present and prostrate for. there are rumours about the sheer weight and size of his cock, the heady pheromones, not to mention his week-long ruts. call it an impossible excursion—a breeding fuckfest with only one thing in mind. to be used and bred full of his pups. a litter or two or more. fucking without care—brutal, relentless, and insatiable.

but forget that his reputation precedes him. sukuna's true value as an alpha stands solely on his capability to hunt and chase, to capture a coveted mate he keeps...or lack thereof.

contrary to the rules of ritual, courting is by far the least of sukuna's priorities. turning his nose up at romance and the like when he's had potential mates eating out the palm of his hand since the beginning. there's no need to make a song and dance about it when he'd have his pick and fill of omegas without needing to try. much less convince them of his oh so superior traits.

he's attractive, you'll give him that. most alphas are. but there's something extra special about a tall man with tattoos and a mean side. such callousness. oozing masculinity and hot-blooded need. like an impending storm. too intense, too forthcoming, and way more than you're prepared for. after all, an unmated alpha is an available alpha and you're not one to compete.

'she's so inadequate for a mate. he'll reject her soon.' they say. any time now and some other needy thing might just swoop in to take her place. someone who's deserving of it.

what a waste, you've gotten the attention of the most powerful alpha you've ever met and want nothing to do with it—a self-righteous omega who believes alphas should know better. why give in to such baser instincts, how primitive, how primal. moreso in this day and age when suppressants are readily available and cycles can be tracked to a T.

which is why you don't look back when his gaze lingers a bit too long. adding distance when he not-so-subtly attempts to leave his scent on you. going as far as to turn him down the first time he cages you in and offers—upfront and blatantly—to 'help you out' with your next heat. as if you were some charity case. "promise i won't bite," he teases you about your barren neck and inexperience, unable to hide the smirk on his face.

"i'm not interested," you scoff, leaving him there with a hard-on in his pants and no relief. he might be a prized alpha but you won't entertain the idea of proving yourself. stroking his ego and preening for him. you were just as valuable of a partner despite being beyond your prime years with zero experience and still unmated.

••••••••••••••••••••

the only problem is that he won't take no for an answer.

he's made his choice among the other blurred faces and dull scents. been waiting a long time for someone as irresistible as you. "do you fear me?" he asks the moment you bend over his kitchen counter. he allows himself a peek at a round ass and soft hips, also to sniff at your scent permeating the air. omega. he knows as much. you make it pretty obvious with your distaste for alphas. but the sweet-scented slick between your legs is as telling.

geez. he thinks. those suppressants of yours are next to useless if you're already dripping this much within proximity to an alpha. not just any alpha either, sukuna's well aware you're beginning to fall for him. you want him so bad and it's so unfair. he's barely even touched you. but only because he's wondering if your underwear would survive the rest of the day. 'what if she's wearing a thong and her thighs get drenched too.' he grins like a wolf at the thought.

you admit with a heavy heart, "i'm more afraid of what i'm like with you." because how does one resist his advances. sukuna pushes the envelope just enough to make your knees buckle. his domineering aura makes everyone else cower in fear under a cold gaze but watch how it turns into a dreamy one when you push his face away after a kiss gets heated. his incisors poke you slightly like a teasing taunt and you find yourself fighting the pleasure.

"it's natural," he'll justify. how your body longs so desperately to belong to this alpha. succumbing to his...ferventness. his large, heated hands roaming over your breasts hidden underneath his shirt. the collar's too wide but it gives him room to wrap his fist delicately around your neck. you bite back an excited squeal when it feels so right.

••••••••••••••••••••

there's something off about him when sukuna returns home late that night. an unfamiliar scent lingers on his clothing and your stomach twist with a possessive feeling. the same one that eats you alive to the point of guilt. you smell it the moment he walks through the door of your bedroom. 

nothing like yours, it's not sharp enough to be daunting nor is it reminiscent of an alpha's scent. but it's potent. almost as if they were doing it on purpose. releasing their pheromones so he'd pick up on it, or worse, that you'd notice.

you try not to jump to any conclusions and you don't want to be jealous, but it's hard having your boyfriend come home with the smell of another omega on him.

you straddle him against the headboard with a hardened look on your face. involuntarily snarling as you peel his suit jacket off. shirt buttons coming apart under your rushed hands.

he grins at your ferocious display. reminds him of an angry kitten. he grinds his hips upwards, keeping you in place with steady hands. bouncing you on top of his clothed cock wasn't in the plans tonight, he thought he'd shower off the stench. it's not like it was strong enough to affect him.

but he tries to get you off instead, while he tries to get himself some self-control. "feel good?" he dares to question when you're practically losing your mind, a sudden spike of lust spurs in your belly, incited with just that little bit of friction. hoping feverishly that the scent of fresh arousal will be overridden by heat and breathy gasps through gritted teeth.

you're hardly in a headspace to reply but an eager nod shall suffice. "didn't think you'd be the jealous type," you feel him nipping at your ear, trailing sloppy kisses down your neck, the slight graze of teeth against freshly washed and oiled skin,

"i'm not jealous—" you lie. holding back a moan when he rocks a little faster, writhing atop him in pleasure. your nipples have risen taut against your nightgown and it makes an incredibly lewd sight. sitting in his lap so compliantly.

“i'd want them to watch us,” he whispers and you'd never do such a thing but the idea turns you on. he tells you that back in ancient times they used to partake in mating rituals and bonding ceremonies. privacy was more a privilege then and so was having an audience. that other omegas and betas would know of their place. how insignificant they are, if only they could watch you now, pussy fluttering and juices leaking all over their prized alpha.

••••••••••••••••••••

sukuna watches your face as you come undone for the fourth time. shushes your sobbing cries with a gentle hand caressing your back. "you don't have to worry," he's too busy holding himself back to find another.

says he wants to do things on your own terms and timing. swears that he won't easily fall prey to the lingering sweet-scented air around you, perfumed syrup and sugar. gently skimming his lips and tongue over a soft nape, a supple shoulder. he'll settle for merely licking the flesh he wishes to sink his teeth into. a caress, a chaste kiss, but never bruising or breaking.

he swallows the protest to earn your approving smile in return. it's enough of a struggle seeing you prancing around unaffected while he's been dying to fuck you senseless. to do what's natural to him. "it's wrong for an unmated couple to live together," seems to be everyone else's motto and he'd like to laugh but there's a shred of truth to it. he realises that it's impossible when he wants to fuck all. the. time.

gritting his teeth and forcing a smile when he's hit with a waft of your scent, he knows you're turned on. you want it just as much—every heat spent away from him in separate rooms. he smells your slick calling out to him. hears your moans poorly muffled and overshadowed by the sounds of you fucking yourself. your pussy bare and gleaming, he'll get on his knees for a taste. prying your twitching thighs apart, forcing them open if he has to, his lips nibbling and sucking your clit til you're crying from the pleasure, thrumming his tongue so fast it drives you crazy. all for the tang of your squirt staining his tastebuds and mussed-up sheets below.

but he shouldn't live life by the balls. no matter how full and heavy they get with the need for release. preferably inside you, so deep and plenty he finds himself picturing it at random times of the day. zoning out in his office, in the middle of traffic. how full you'd look with your belly bulging out. would it drip between your pussy lips or should he plug you with his cock instead, refusing a single drop to leak.

still, he wills himself to stay within your bounds. being lustful and possessive isn't anything to be ashamed of. it's part of his makeup but he's more than that. two people are perfectly capable of looking beyond their sex and desires—or so you tell him.

••••••••••••••••••••

his rut arrives when his symptoms not-so casually appear in the middle of the week. pheromones and a temper not even you can subdue. he's biting into his knuckles from the arousal spurred on by great timing and comically predictable circumstances—just the smell and sight of you there, happily unaware and otherwise tempting.

maybe your expectations have been exceedingly high. you can't change his nature. but how dare he forbid you from entering the home you shared, spare keys hidden and passcodes altered. "leave—" he warns, then breathes a frustrated sigh, "—it's not safe."

not that he feels particularly sorry about his tone, but what separates him from you is but a door and a razor-thin resolve. he's at his limit. he won't survive this on suppressants alone. not with you looking the way you do. "how can i help?" you ask worriedly, wrecking your head over him. wanting to comfort and coddle. for someone who turns their nose up at omegan stereotypes, you're playing the part so perfectly it drives him mad.

because it's the worst experience for an alpha to go through a rut alone. you'd understand the pain of having to suppress a heat. all the years dealing with the fevers and cramps. milk leaking from your sore nipples wishing he'd be there to relieve the pressure. a nest of him and only him. grinding and burrowing within amber, musk, and spice. intoxicating, intense, chasing after the smell found in his sweat-drenched tee, a wrinkled white shirt bearing smoke and aftershave on its collar. snuggling his pillow and getting off with your fingers or a whirring toy at its highest speed, but it's not enough, never enough. pussy contracting on absolutely nothing.

his den is dark and moody when you step inside. slipping into a frenzied haze, there he lazes with legs spread on your shared bed big enough for four, it stretches wider than you remembered, or maybe it's that you've yet to see it in this light, waiting to be broken in and littered with your belongings. he's grabbed at them in a rush. whatever your scent clung to. your duvet, your stuffed toy, and pretty, day-old crimson panties gripped in the same fist he pumps his cock with.

the threads fray, soaked fabric snapping and stretching with every drag down his shaft. rip. rip. rippp. a hole tears through when he tugs too hard and that heavy thing slaps over his stomach with a resounding smack.

you see it for the first time and wonder why not sooner. the perfect dick hiding in plain sight. actually, that's not true. you just haven't seen it this up close and personal. but given the sneak peeks—when the steam clears in the shower and it hangs soft and hefty, the way it juts out of tight gym shorts, or just...the swell of it rubbing in between your ass cheeks when he gets needy—none of them could've prepared you for this.

sukuna thinks it’s so ugly and brutish. he's found many an opportunity to tell you so, even now as his head cranes backwards with a frustrated groan, a growl that rumbles from somewhere deep within. ”it's enough to scare off any omega—” he says, a knowing smirk on his face when he can practically smell the slick dribbling down your thighs, saturating your panties, "—but not you."

a thick vein throbs on the underside, tip bulging and a little darker than the shaft, girthy and gushing with precum. his balls are heavy, taut with tension under the soft skin, and you shudder at the thought of what his knot would look like...who would've thought that such a monstrous-looking thing would have this much of an effect on you. weak in the knees and stomach fluttering in anticipation. the way it seems oh so daunting, how are you meant to take all of that inside you. if he laid the entire thing right against your stomach, how far would it go? it'd be enough to knock the wind out of you.

you try to calm your nerves. it's just a rut. it'll be over in no time. quick and simple. although you've read plenty of stories and watched the videos to know this wouldn't be a passionate embrace. no tenderness or care for your pleasure let alone your comfort. you wish to believe that he'll be careful if not a bit rough. and maybe a part of you wants to please him. despite all your certainties, would it be so bad to make him feel good and satisfy his needs? would it be wrong to wish for his scent mark, and his bonding bite. to be claimed and chosen.

it's an expression you've never seen before. as if he wants to devour you. he won't explain himself as he makes you watch. turning you into a voyeur as the urge takes over him. hooded eyes locked on yours, his blown-out pupils and slobbering drool are enough evidence for you—he intends to mate.

whimpering his name does nothing to quell his madness or ministrations. he's so far gone you don't think he comprehends the things he says, "can't wait to knot you...breed you...been wanting to taste you for so long..." he purrs, low and rumbling from his chest. sharp teeth grazing against your earlobe teasingly but never biting down on the cartilage, just a light nibble that turns you into a shivering mess. he's caught you within his jaws and your instincts argue against your better judgement, you're beyond fighting and struggling now while your weak hands push against his hulking mass to no avail.

yet, it's thrilling. amazing even. an alpha pinned atop you and nowhere to run. his nose nuzzling the crook of your neck, the back of your ear, both your arms lifted in his singlehanded grasp. he dives for every inch of skin, every spot that bears your aroma the strongest, going as far into the divot of your armpit while he's laving at the salt and sweat greedily. his saliva scenting sugar-sweet skin, marking you as his chosen victim. "you're so dirty—" is more of a plea for him to snap out of it. already embarrassed, exposed, and so eager.

he takes a pebbled nipple between his teeth and swirls his tongue around the tip of it. you're too distracted to realise he hadn't responded to your quip, because your scent told him all he needed to know, so did the soft whimper when he abandons one nipple, and the moan when he takes the other in his mouth.

there's a way to do things and sukuna's way is unmerciful. a man has never been this good at finding a clit, which is probably why his tongue won't leave it alone. he keeps his tongue broad until it comes out of hiding before he's got his lips wrapped around. he sucks on it languidly. pulls away just to spit and slaver, blow a raspberry for fun. marvelling at the drool and the mess you've made.

no time to waste when most of it was spent not eating your pussy. sukuna hums and hungrily feasts, tongue flicking frantically. your screams come out involuntarily, unable to hold back your moans coming out in short staccato bursts. a little panicked, but nonetheless agreeable. "something's happening! wait—" you hiss when it starts to burn a little. your hips lifting off the bed while his fingers keep prodding that special spot inside.

it only makes it all the more pleasurable when the pressure builds, when the squeeze feels so tight. you clench and feel every pass of his digits, every purposeful lick. "—kuna, i think i'm gonna—" his fingers quicken while his other forearm presses down on your pelvis to keep you in place and it's more than enough to make you come hard. gushing again and again, streaking the sheets and his smug expression.

"i've always wanted to do that," he admits cheekily. a face you can't stop admiring now that it's covered in your juices. your legs tremble and you can't catch your breath whilst he's leaving gentle kisses on your oversensitive lips, but he's far from finished with you.

with his cock leaking in his hold, he taps it on your sticky heat for good measure before gliding it back and forth, the opening of his cock prodding, getting caught on your clit as he slips in slow. with how thick he is, you feel every ridge and vein. gasping at the first push and fisting the sheets to try and accommodate.

unsurprisingly, it hurts just a pinch. "please,” you mewl, just that single word slipping past ragged breaths as you struggle. throat dry and crackly from the heaving and the foggy, post-orgasm haze. you don't know if you want him to stop or to go on but—"what if it can't fit?" you're genuinely concerned because it might not physically fit. already full to the brim, your pussy stretches so snugly around his shaft like a glove.

"there's a lot more to go," he hints at the rest of his cock he's yet to sheath inside you. "but we'll make it fit," a large palm rests over your womb as he swipes his thumb against your clit, hoping it'll ease the discomfort.

you nod weakly, whimpering "i trust you," but he's so big. you can feel your pussy trying to suck him in, a bead of sweat travels down your chest. mouth falling open as he slips in a little at a time, girth forcing your entrance to open wider. buries his cock in the one pussy he’s fantasized about the most and ruts like he's always wanted to.

••••••••••••••••••••

on the third day, you start getting restless. feeling sore and exhausted while running on no sleep and little bites of food. the room is in dire need of fresh air and the bed frame is on its last legs, but sukuna's urges grow stronger by the day. he barely manages to pull out to hydrate before he goes back to fucking you. always so slow and gentle, however, your moans and whines spill out, slowly but surely you succumb to every orgasm that rocks through you. wave after rippling wave.

still hard and throbbing the entire time. it's probably because every time your neck cranes upwards as an offering, baring your mating gland, he avoids it. fighting it. "why won't you knot me?" comes out sounding pouty and petulant but you don't care. your delectable scent slowly fades into a bitter note, anxiety and insecurity filling your voice. sukuna hasn't even tried to push it past your folds. steadily milking his knot outside of where it should be with his own hands is enough of a blatant rejection.

he reminds himself that he'd sworn to never let it go that far, knotting you would change everything, what if you couldn't see him the same way, that he was just another alpha who took you for himself. "i can't," guilt laces his voice and so does his frustration when his conscience appears from behind the pussy-drunk fog. his heart bleeding, his instincts yearning. 'i don't want to hurt you' is what he means. but what you hear in your dejected state is 'you won't be able to handle it.'

was it your inexperience that made him uninterested? you knew alphas liked them subservient, obedient. just like an omega should be. taking his knot without qualms. consummating in perfect rhythm. a tinge of pain shoots through your chest at the thought—sukuna could have any omega he wants, you've kept him waiting too long, you've made him doubt. you're not able to keep up, to please him, to be enough...despite giving in. despite trying your best to take him. he won't claim you,' says the voice in your head.

a whimper breaks from you at his words. you shouldn't have to ask, this was meant to be innate, instinctual, not something he has to restrain himself from. "aren't i your mate? don't i belong to you?" you sob, hot tears flowing down your cheeks.

he presses his forehead to yours, "you're gonna bleed, i might break you," he tries to explain, getting uncharacteristically soft in the moment. it's your fault for stumbling across a wounded beast. finding your way into his broken heart. binding the pieces back together while you soothe the aches and kiss his scars. 'yes you belong to me.' his beautiful omega who begs so nicely to be mated, if this is what you're like three days in, he longs to see what you're like in heat.

you shake your head, getting stubborn. you won't accept it and you're on the verge of clawing at him to get away. you've been ready at his mercy and what for. just to come out the other end dissatisfied and unfulfilled. fuck. you just want it to be done with. defile me, ravage me, you want him completely.

in an attempt to fight him, you let out a harmless threat, one you regret the moment it's uttered because you've gone too far—"if you won't do it, i'll find another alpha who will!"

suddenly, sukuna's thoughts are invaded by that sick thought. scenes of you naked and oozing slick. pinned beneath another alpha, his weight pressing into you along with his knot, glaring at him as he makes his claim the way he couldn't and it makes him snap.

the growling sound that leaves his mouth is a warning, and so is the hand that slips around your throat. large fingers coming together around your neck. the squeeze cutting your gasp short. it should frighten you, he could snap your neck as easily as it is to split a matchstick in half and right now, he seems just about ready to.

"careful now, omega," he spits out, teeth bared and demanding submission. forbidding and looming above you, his fist tightens ever so slightly. "you've forgotten your place," it seems you've misjudged your role and the precarious position you're in. fucked out in his den, in his bed. intentionally riling him up won't do you any good. no one touches you, scents you, or claims you but him no matter how your feet kick him uselessly, he doesn't move an inch.

"i'm sorry—" you pant, "i'll be good, i promise." you squirm and wriggle underneath, uncertain if you should run or relish in it. so ominous it turns you on even more. he's never put you in your place like this and you think you should make him jealous more often if it means he'd choke you out and go feral on your pussy.

"is that so?" he tries again. presses his cock in slowly inch by inch. feeling your pussy open up and yield to his girth. sukuna leans in close so he gets to watch your eyes roll back. bullies his way through with one deep thrust and finds himself balls-deep. "you want it so bad? want me to ruin this perfect pussy all because you wanna cum all over my knot, i won't stop til you're screaming and milking me dry—"

muscle memory forces your back to arch towards him. his broad chest against your nipples, delicious hot skin rubbing your hardened nubs the right way. he stills for a moment before he withdraws slowly, a mix of pleasure and anticipation coiling in your belly.

watching him, watching you. he looks down and groans at the obscene sight of cream and slick coating his shaft, viscous and too much to bear. the bulge in your tummy protrudes where his cock takes up all that space, rearranging your guts had never looked this lewd.

when his knot finally kisses your entrance, you feel it hot and prodding against you. desperate for him shove it in. to feel it pop through and nestle so deep, all the way to the hilt while he stays there and unloads himself inside you. balls twitching, sitting in a warm crook he’s found. your omega instincts sing at the thought of him filling you up. "knot me, breed me, my alpha—" you cry. begging for it, hot and immensely copious. a sticky mess all over, both the mattress completely drenched in fluids and your insides coated in his seed.

he feels the give of your womb, the tightness around the head of his cock. groaning at the sensation. just a little bit more and he'd be buried, finally. he fucks you violently, no holds barred. hands gripping your hips so achingly tight he might shatter your pelvis into pieces. you'll count the bruises later on but shall forgive him for the fact that he's cumming his brains out.

you're crying and babbling mindlessly, yes yes just like that. your limbs begin to shake as your peak edges closer, hand gripping his bicep while bracing yourself. wild and frantic hips jerking and shallow thrusts bumping and nudging against your cervix. striking deep and rocking you against the sheets.

your shivering doesn't go unnoticed and there he leans in to give your oiled and mouth-watering neck a final lick, shushing you with a gentle, calming kiss to your mating gland in preparation for his teeth.

and when he finally pushes his knot in, cock piercing your womb as your pussy clamps down viciously on its slim spot at the base, his teeth spears into your flesh with ease. there's the give of taut skin and tight muscle but soon he settles deep enough for blood to trickle and you come several times, pulsing and fluttering along multiple orgasms rolling in after the next, enough that you're shaking in his hold.

you cry and cry, overstimulated, sensitive, and so in love. not only with how full you feel but you surprise him with your own teeth sinking down into his trapezius, not too deep into muscle but just enough to leave tiny dents in his skin. your chattering jaw and slippery lips can't find purchase while you're preoccupied with whining his name. so you try again, this time closer to his neck.

sukuna catches on to your efforts and finds it all the more endearing. helping you find the perfect spot, he manoeuvres his neck closer while you give him light nibbles and sharp pinprick nips here and there but they're all too soft to pierce the skin. "do it," he pants, "mark me anywhere, i'm yours."

it must be his words that urge you but you think it's more to do with the greed roiling inside you. you want to leave a mark that he'd never be able to cover up. by the time he's grinding his knot into you again, pulling at your hips and guiding you on it like a toy, milking him of whatever's left, your lips part around the front of his neck without any more hesitation. inhaling his scent deeply, the vibrations of his groans rattling against your teeth, before biting down on his throat. teeth embedded deep and tongue lapping at his bobbing adam's apple.

he leans in to kiss you filthy and open-mouthed, tongues swapping spit and bloody iron while your thumbs caress his jaw and neck, adding a little pressure to the spot where his freshly bitten mating gland throbs quickly. a hummingbird wingbeat beneath your fingertips.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Partners in Crime 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, Lee Bodecker

Summary: you're left reeling after your divorce but the chaos has only begun. (short!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You hate the mall. Too bright. Too loud. Too fast. 

That day isn’t so bad. Tuesday, mid-morning. Most people are at work. Not you. Your part-time gig barely pays the bills, let alone keeps you busy. With that in mind, you shouldn’t be there to spend what little you have.  

It’s for a good cause. It’s your grandmother’s birthday next week and you owe her. After all she’s done, you owe much more than just a measly mall-bough gift but it’s all you can manage right now. One day it will be better. One day you will be able to pay her back. At least you keep telling yourself that. 

She paid for it all. Your way out, your lawyer, your apartment even. You can’t live in the senior’s community with her, that’s against the rules, but she parsed out some of her nest egg for the flat in the old brick building. For you. She’s the only one who ever did so much for you but what did you ever do for her? 

It’s not for lack of trying, only your own poor decisions. 

You enter the sparkling Swarovski store and keep your arms tight to your body, paranoid of breaking any of the numerous crystal pieces. You don’t know what she would like. It isn’t because you don’t know her well, you just don’t think she has much use for any of it. She’s always been painfully practical. That’s why you never wanted to ask her for help. 

An associate startles you as she appears beside you in her sleek black pantsuit. She offers help but you get the sense she’s checking in, making sure your hands aren’t sneaking into your pockets. You make sure to keep them visible and move your satchel across your back. You tell her you’re just looking and blow out between your dry lips. Maybe a hoodie wasn’t the best choice. 

It was meant to be a solution. You wanted to get out of your grandmother’s hair. How long had you been living with her? He was the answer to that. You thought so. You wanted to believe it. For ten years, you tried. He always spoiled it. 

Then she had to bail you out anyway. 

As you come to the sharp corner of a shelf, you’re startled by another customer. You hadn’t seen them when you came in or heard them. You glance at them fleetingly and turn your attention to the shelf of Mickey Mouse decorations. Definitely not those. 

“Excuse me, sweetheart,” the man frightens you again as he nears and presses his hand to your back. He sidles by, and you dodge away from him, coming dangerously close to colliding with the display of birthstone necklaces. 

You shake off the close brush and blink at the glass. You peek over at the man as he seems overly interested in a paper weight shaped like a dove. His mustache and sleek haircut make him look like he’s been plucked out of some gangster period piece.  

The associate shifts from one side of the counter to the other. She’s watching you. You sigh. She still thinks you’re a thief. You shake your head and leave. 

It’s not worth the trouble or the money. You can find something better. You know you could get your grandma a box of chocolates and a card and she’d say she’s happy. You don’t want to get her what works; you want to do something for someone. Something more than just be there. 

You go down to Hallmark. It’s a similar atmosphere with a hint of warmness and more range in price. Still too much Disney and not enough variety. Your grandmother doesn’t need a rustic crate or a door sign with some snarky saying about wine. 

You stop to look at cards. You can at least grab one of those. As you reach for one along the top row, another hand swipes it from your grasp. You back up and look at the culprit. It’s the same man as the Swarovski shop. Strange. 

You recoil and scurry down the aisle towards the door. Is he following you? It could be a coincidence. Two stores. If he’s looking for a gift too, it makes sense. 

You cross your arms and march quickly through the bright mall, the skylight glaring down at you. You walk in and out of a clothes shop. You don’t know where you’re going now. You’re frazzled. 

You find your way to the As Seen on TV shop and meander around without intent. You’re at a loss. You’ll just end up at the bookstore like always. Another book for her birthday. Wowee. 

She might like the salt rock light. You don’t know. Ugh. 

It isn’t the gift. It isn’t her. It’s you. You’re indecisive. You're lost. Even if it was misery, you miss having someone to tell you what to do. Now you have to think and you do too much of that. 

“Those are pretty cool,” a voice slices through your self-pity. 

It’s the same man. Your eyes meet as you look up to see him. You blanch and open and close your mouth. The shop is so small, how hadn’t you heard him? 

You retreat without a word. He must be following you. There’s no other explanation. What do you do? You can’t just lead him out of the mall, back to your building, but how can you divert him? 

You find a bench down the next aisle of the mall, somewhere the associates in the vitamin store can see you. You’re safe there with people around. You look up and down, searching for the man and his mustache. Just a mother with her stroller. 

You’re paranoid. Stupid, just like he said. It’s all in your head. You’re just fucked up. You don’t know how to live in this world. Not alone. 

“Excuse me, ma’am,” the timbre tickles up the back of your spine and you twist to see the figure behind you. It’s an officer in uniform. “Mind if I ask ya something?” 

You nod and blink. You don’t like the cops. You haven’t spoken to them since the night it all came crashing down. The flashing lights, the sirens, the questions. It’s all a haze yet it’s stamped into your psyche. 

“Yes, sir,” you stand. 

He’s got dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. His shoulders bear a slant of authority as he has his hands on his hips. He’s taller than you, but so is everyone. You look across the bench at him as his white shirt pokes out from under his leather jacket, his belly straining the fabric. 

“You don’t gotta trouble yerself,” he shows his palm and reaches with his other hand to his belt, “I’m lookin’ for someone and was wonderin’ if maybe ya saw him.” 

“Oh?” You crinkle your forehead. 

“Got a pic somewhere,” he frees his phone from the clip on his belt and flicks his thumb over the screen, “here we are.” 

He turns the cell toward you and you can’t help but make a face. The image is blurry but it’s definitely that same man. You look back the way you came and gulp. 

“Reckon by that, you’ve seen him,” the officer says. “Sheriff Bodecker,” he introduces as he retracts his hand, “I’m doing an investigation. Mind if I ask some more questions?" 

“Well, I... didn’t talk to him.” 

“That’s fine,” he peers down in the same direction you did. The infant in its stroller begins to yawl and his cheek ticks, “how about you come out to my cruiser and we’ll do it there? Less ruckus?” 

You purse your lips. You can’t really say no, he might think you know that guy, whoever he is, whatever he’s done. You shrug. You don’t have much to say. You’re sure it won’t be much of an interview. 

“Okay,” you agree.” 

[dirtyvulture]

Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Reader*

18+ only, read at your own risk

Requested by anon: Can I request sub beefy reader with a dick and dom fem nat reader calls her mommy, nat had been teasing reader all day with revealing clothes soft touches and the casual bulge grab while they're out in public readers so needy n begs nat to just touch them but nat wants to wait til they're home. They finally get gome n nat haves her way with readers cock playing with the tip teasing them more til nat gets needy too and rides reader into oblivion 

AN: Reader has a penis. No pronouns used.

(The bottoms better blow this up and not let me down.)

Your grip on Natasha’s waist tightens subtly, but it’s enough for her to notice and cluck her tongue at you warningly. She’s currently sitting on your lap while the two of you join the rest of the Avengers for a game of Monopoly, but you’re ready to throw all your money at the bank if it means getting to leave and go back to your room with your girlfriend. 

She’s been teasing you all day and you don’t know how much longer you can stand it. Not that you really have a choice, but it’s frustrating enough that you’ve been hard for hours and there is no way you can normally function with basically no blood left in your brain. 

“Nat,” you whine when she grinds down on you. “Can we go upstairs now?” you whisper.

“Wait until we finish this round,” she says, leaning forward to roll the dice and move her token around the board. You slump back moodily as Natasha pays rent to Steve for landing on his property. “All right, that’s enough stealing my money,” she announces, finally getting off your lap and grabbing your hand. You stand directly behind her, trying to hide your hard-on from the rest of your co-workers. “Anyone want to join us for dinner?”

“Dinner?” you squeak. Unless Natasha is talking about letting you eat her for dinner, the last place you want to go is a restaurant for a legitimate meal.

“All this board game playing made me hungry,” she says with a mischievous glint in her eyes. 

“You two go ahead,” Clint says, and everyone else murmurs their agreement, sensing the unresolved tension.  

“Perfect, come on, babe. I’ll drive.” Natasha drags you down to the garage. You don’t say anything when you get into the car, grumbling in your seat at being cheated out of your promise.

“Why are you acting so grumpy?” Natasha snaps suddenly.

“You said after we were done with the last round,” you respond.

“I said what?”

“That we could go upstairs.”

“No. I said to wait until we finish the last round. But I didn’t say what we were going to do,” she emphasizes and you huff at your lack of attention to the details. But can she really blame you? “If I don’t eat in the next thirty minutes, it’s going to be very bad for you. You can wait a little longer.”

“Fine.”

She takes you to a familiar Chinese restaurant, but you have no appetite for food. Natasha takes her time looking over the menu, despite her earlier statement that she was famished, and you’re pretty sure she’s doing it on purpose. She’s sitting next to you in the booth, her hand first resting on your knee and creeping up to your thigh.

She palms at your bulge between bites of fried rice, and you can hardly feed yourself with the distraction. 

“Nat please,” you beg, struggling to keep your hips still. “Can we go home now?”

“I want dessert first.”

But there’s no dessert here, so she walks you down to the ice cream parlor next door. Your leg bounces anxiously as she orders a cone for herself, offering you a bite first but you decline. She licks teasingly at the ice cream, her tongue swirling up the white dessert in an achingly familiar manner that makes your cock throb harder in your pants. 

You look away, afraid that you’re going to cum right in the shop. Natasha finishes her ice cream and finally, finally takes you back home.

She pushes you onto the bed, quickly undressing herself while you kick off your pants and yank off your shirt. When she climbs onto you, rocking her pussy against your abs, you moan and grab at her desperately.

“Mommy please, I need you so badly,” you say. 

“Don’t touch me,” Natasha demands, slapping your hands back to your sides. “Or I’ll have to tie you up.” Which isn’t really a threat, but you do like having some autonomy in bed with her.

You lie back, looking down at your cock, which is fully erect and pulsing out a steady stream of pre-cum already. Natasha sits between your legs, eyeing you hungrily. She wraps her hand around your aching cock and the touch alone is enough to make you moan, but you bite your lip and keep your arms firmly by your side. 

“Is this what you’ve been waiting for?” she asks, squeezing your tip every time her hand completes an upstroke.

“Yes, yes,” you pant.

“So you’d rather have my hand than my pussy?”

“Uh, no,” you stutter. While you love every part of Natasha and would never complain about what she offers, you do have your favorites. Her pussy would always reign supreme over her mouth and hand, but you knew than better than to say no to any of them. 

Natasha stops stroking you, but her thumb continues to rub over your slit and you squirm helplessly on the bed, utterly desperate for her touch. 

“I don’t know why I’m even rewarding you. You’ve been whiny and annoying all day,” she says, as if she doesn’t love your reactions to her. You suck in a breath when her whole hand wraps around you again, squeezing you at just the right spots to make your entire body tremble. 

“I’m...I’m sorry,” you apologize. 

“I don’t know if you deserve anything more than my hand tonight,” Natasha says, and you’re so distracted when she squeezes your tip that you don’t notice her other hand dive down between her legs and press against her own arousal.

“Please, please,” you beg. “I’ll do anything. I’ll let you do anything,” you say in hopes that she’ll have mercy on you tonight. 

“Hmm. I’ll have to think about,” Natasha replies like she hasn’t already made up her mind. She spends a few more minutes teasing you until your entire cock is practically coated in your own pre-cum, the head a much darker shade as you near your release that Natasha won’t let you have.

“Nat,” you whimper again. 

“Shut up.” She lets go off your cock and mounts you in one smooth move. You nearly cum right when her velvet pussy slides around you, but Natasha grabs onto your shoulders so tightly and pinches your skin that you’re too distracted by the momentary pain to finish. 

“Thank you, thank you,” you say as you carefully hold onto her hips as she bounces on your dick wildly. 

“This is for me, not you,” she reminds you, but you know she’ll let you get your release. Maybe just after hers, though.

You lean back into the pillows, panting, your abs clenching as you try to keep yourself under control. You watch your slick cock disappear into her tight heat over and over, listening to the filthy noises it creates. “Oh God, Nat,” you moan, throwing your head back and allowing her to use your body as she sees fit. 

“Fuck, you still stretch me out so well,” she says, her nails digging into your chest as she forces you to lie flat. The entire bed bounces and moves, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you break the frame again tonight. Natasha is almost like a wild animal with the way she rides you, like she hasn’t fucked you in weeks.

“You can only cum after I do,” she demands, as she starts to clench around you harder and more sporadically.

“Okay,” you whimper, hoping that you’ll be able to keep your end of the deal when your body feels like it’s on fire.  

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK!” Natasha screams as she comes undone on top of you, leaning back to brace herself on your muscular thighs as she gushes around you. You waste no time finishing yourself, jogging your hips up to empty your load into her. 

She’s still panting as you lean up to kiss her in appreciation, but she shoves you back down, leaning forward to grab onto your biceps so she can keep you pinned on the mattress. Natasha rolls her hips aggressively, and your cock, now sensitive from your orgasm, is still inside of her.

“We’re done when I say we’re done,” she demands, and you can only whine as she uses you for the rest of the night.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[nthspecialll]

When it comes to Abigail Marston leaving John in 1907, a lot of people throw mean comments at her, say that she was unfair for doing so and a lot of other things, however I think that people fail to consider the time that this game is set. This is not our modern day woman, this is 1907, and it might sound like I am stating the obvious but by the hatred that she gets it I think it needs to be said again.

1907!

Do you know the rights that women had then? Or the lack of. Women were bound to their husbands, they weren't allowed to own close to anything and were only allowed to vote in about 4 different states, some women that is. Women were seen as a servant to her husband.

It was also hard for women to earn money, the average woman over 16 working in a factory (as the majority was) earned 5-6 or 6-7 dollars a week, a week! Eggs on average costed 29 cents by the doz, a pound of round steak cost 15 cents and half a gallon of milk costed 15 cents as well.

What about rent? New Austin, which Blackwater and the surrounding area is in, is based of Texas which in 1904 had a rent per room pr month of 28 dollars.

So why would Abigail ever go through all of that? Because of John, because of Jack. Abigail stuck around John for eight years, practically begging him to fix himself, to become better because she knew that she was pretty much dependant on him, because she needs his support to be able to live and she wants to give her boy a chance at a better life but she can't with John constantly picking fights and literally putting her and her son's lives at risk.

A lot of people make it seem like she just suddenly took that chocie, but she didn't, it was a choice that most likely took her years not just due to the financial burden but also the social burden that comes with being a single mom in a time where pre-material sex was seen as a death sin. She could very well be killed merely for being seen with Jack and without a husband.

And not just that, but it was probably also a hard choice because despite of everything she loves John, she really does, yes she screams at him for going out with Saide but who wouldn't. "She won't allow him freedom," no she is scared he is going to die, for us it is easy to say "he isn't going to" because he is a main character and we can just redo if we die taking on twenty skinner brothers or whatnot, but it isn't like that for her. I want you to imagine that your partner/friend/parent told you they were going to fight a gang of who knows how many, you are going to be scared no matter how skilled that friend is because you don't want to lose them. John himself admits it is dangerous work by saying "we always find a way to almost get killed, dont we?" Which Sadie agees to.

Abigail took the choice to leave, putting herself in a terrible situation, not for herself, but for her son. She gave up her one true love so that her son could have a chance at life, have a chance to be better than her and John. It was not easy and it is not something we should shame her for, if anything we should praise her for putting her son before herself.

I love John, I really do, but I think it shows just how shitty of a father he really was, and that Abigail leaving was exactly the push he needed to get himself together, it was the wake-up call he needed. He knew how shitty women had it, he would have to realize how terrible he must have been for her to prefer that over him.

Now am I saying Abigail did everything right? No, she did not. Although I understand her fustrations with him doing bounties she has to realize she is not in a place to be picky about jobs. She did ask John to take on a huge debt for the farm and John is right in one thing "it is legal work that I can handle," and while the farm is taking some time to get up and running it is the best form of income that they have access to.

Now to talk about her annoyance with John going after Micah, it is understandable as it could trigger a decline to their former life of crime or just lead to straight up death. It is unnecessary, revenge is unnecessary, meaning that John is risking their entire life for "nothing." He argues back with "I am doing it for Arthur" but again, yes Micah killed Arthur but killing Micah wont change that, killinh Micah will not bring Arthur back nor put him in a better situation, it is revenge, it is not nessesary, it doesn’t do any good.

If John had died she would not only have lost her husband but also the farm, as women could not own property. I am not that knowledgable on debt laws in 1907, but I would imagine that in some way or another the massive debt John got would end up with her or Jack either way, putting her in a terrible situation.

@heavenlymorals made a similar post back in may 11th where they also explore and explain Mary Linton and Abigail in 1899, it is really amazing and also puts some other light on it.

Sources:

Rent, page 369: https://fraser.stlouisfed.org/title/annual-report-commissioner-labor-6306/eighteenth-annual-report-commissioner-labor-608452?start_page=370

Food, page 233: https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=umn.31951000014585x&seq=233

Wages, page 15: https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=nnc1.cu56779232&seq=15

[thecurlyhairrodimuslover]

Okay sure! Think we can get an earthspark megatron x human!reader who has insomnia? It can be gn, your choice. He's not familiar with this kind of disorder and tries to help. 😁😗

I LOVE THIS I LOVE THIS I LOVE THISSSS

I did some research on insomnia so hopefully, it's somewhat accurate. thank you so so much for this request! - King

mentions of anxiety, depression, not being able to sleep, etc. This can be seen as platonic or interpreted as being lovers, it's up to you!

ES!Megatron x Human!Insomniac!Reader

You have the worst relationship with sleep. It shows. You barely ever sleep and if you do, you're constantly being woken up by something, yet nothing. It was draining, and mentally painful, mentally painful where it affected you physically. You always had pain in your hands, and in your shoulders, sulking as you walked sometimes. Your eyes gave it away, the dark round areas underneath them as you would blink slowly. You felt horrible. Almost always. You realized you weren't the only person bothered and frustrated about your "little" issue.

Megs was just as concerned for you as you were for yourself. Primus, now he thinks about it. do you ever worry about yourself?

That's really beside the point now. Sure, he's experienced sleepless nights, but it gets to a point. His sleepless nights were just short-term. These nights, oh Primus, these nights you have are nothing like he's ever seen. You're beyond a point where he thought no such thing as a human should be. To you, sleeping seems too much like a chore, or something that must be done. You're fighting to even stay asleep, using tea, trying self-care, everything. You can't help it, he knows that. You've tried everything. Maybe everything.

He has not seen such a disorder in his lifetime, nothing like it. Where there's so much on your mind, distractions cause you to stay awake. During the day you're so groggy and fatigued.

He sees you're always stressed about something. It's always something. He's kinda pissed that you're always stressing, but, again, he has to remember you're just a human who barely understands yourself.

Every time he sees you, he crosses his arms, in worry and in frustration. It's causing you to be snappy, to be unhappy. He tries not to get mad or upset at you. At least that's what the Maltos and Optimus are saying to him. He thinks Optimus doesn't understand your issue just as much as he doesn't. That's really also besides everything though.

He really wants to help, he just doesn't bring himself to understand your case. It's like you need sleep, yet you dread when it is time to go to sleep. It really sucks though. When you do go to sleep, it's not good sleep. You're always lacking some kind of quality.

He does his own research on the topic and boy does it make him unhappy. He's stuck on the fact that eventually, Insomnia could cause things like cardiac problems and more anxiety. As if you don't already have enough of that.

He puts the task on himself to help you get better sleep, and to be a little more lenient when it comes to night. He mentions it to Dorothy. She thinks it's great. She knows you love Megs and she knows he loves you just as much. (Can be platonic can be a relationship it's up to you to decide.) She gives him more ideas that he can use to help you try to get some sleep. She hates seeing you suffer. She appreciates Megs for doing this. "You got a heart, Megs," She says, smiling.

blah blah blah, more nonsense.

As the night crept on you, you started to become more and more irritable and anxious. Not even you knew why.

Megatron had come to find you.

"Y/N, I think you should wind down and head to bed, it could help with your sleep."

You look at the bot, restless and pitiful.

"I wish it was that easy.."

"It could be, it just takes time. don't you actually want to appreciate sleep again?" He sighs, "Look at you, it's eating you alive mentally, pouring onto your physical health," he says, observing your face. "You gotta find something to help."

"C'mon, I'll sit with you while you go to bed," he continues. "Stop being difficult, everyone's concerned for you, including myself. This has got to stop...or at least be reduced. I know you don't love this feeling."

As you get ready for bed, Megs activates his mass displacement form. He watches you sigh as you pull the comforter on yourself.

He just sits there, hoping that you'll fall asleep and stay asleep.

It's quiet. Really quiet. He realizes anxiety isn't the only thing causing you to not fall asleep. He sees you're easily distracted. You'd just look around, look at him, into space, anywhere.

"Maybe closing your eyes will help." well damn

"Fuck you"

As the night goes on he sighs. You finally go to sleep and hopefully, you'll stay asleep.

As the weeks go on, he gets the gist of what's causing some of your insomnia. Hopefully, he'll be able to help you with the things and habits you can fix over time.

Its definitely an improvement after a couple of months. Even though your insomnia is there, it's for sure reduced and much better.

He's glad he was able to help you bc jesus christ lol.

dad of the year here everyone LMAO

[perfectsunlight]

✧ 𝟬𝟰 ✧ 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘁

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲, pushing

⸺

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 | 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁

𝗙𝗘𝗕𝗥𝗨𝗔𝗥𝗬 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟭

“no. now, bada. tell me now!” y/n shouted, fists clenched into balls at her sides. hot tears fell from her glaring eyes as she stared at the taller girl in front of her. bada ran a hand through her hair, trying to maintain her composure. 

there wasn’t anything that could stop the other girl’s meltdown. she knew better than that.

once the fire started, there was no way to put it out. she just had to let it burn out on its own.

the tension in the practice room was palpable, thick enough to suffocate. y/n's voice had risen to a feverish pitch, her chest heaving with every breath. her fists trembled as if they were on the brink of exploding into action. hot tears blurred her vision, but she refused to let them fall.

bada's attempt to maintain her composure was faltering. she could feel the weight of the younger girl’s accusations pressing down on her, threatening to break her resolve. her hand, once elegantly raking through her hair, now clenched into a fist at her side, mirroring y/n's anger.

"why are we talking about this here?" bada retorted, her voice tinged with exasperation as she turned away to face the mirrored wall. she couldn't bear to look into y/n's accusing eyes any longer.

but y/n was relentless, her voice trembling with the fury of betrayal. "because i want to know. i need to fucking know. was it you?"

bada closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, trying to find the right words. when she turned back to y/n, her expression was a mix of guilt, frustration, and fear. the storm that raged between the two dancers threatened to consume everything.

“yes, y/n,” bada finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “it was me.”

y/n's face contorted with a mixture of hurt and pure rage. she took a step toward the korean, her finger pointing accusingly. “you knew how much it meant to me, how hard i worked on it! and you just stole it, without asking, without even telling me?”

bada couldn't meet the other girl’s gaze. it was a fury brighter than the sun, and she didn’t feel like dealing with the hothead right now. she looked at her hands, as if there was anything interesting to look at there. “i was desperate, y/n. and we worked on part of it together so i thought i could make it work for the group.” she explained as calmly as possible.

the american clenched her fists so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “desperate? that's your excuse?! you think that justifies what you did?!” her voice raised even louder, disbelief ever evident in her tone.

“i had the company on my back! what did you think they were going to do? give me more time?” the taller girl snapped, feeling frustrated with the other dancer’s lack of understanding. bada was starting to feel aggravated now. how could the younger girl now understand where she was coming from?

“you could have just asked me! or just let me present the choreography myself!”

a sarcastic and forced laugh fell from the older girl’s lips. it was a sound y/n heard far too often from the taller girl. it was belittling, truly. “you really think they’d let just some american dancer get credit for choreography of a korean girl group?”

that was the sentence that truly snapped something within the young american. all she saw was red.

y/n's eyes blazed with fury as she shot back, “it doesn't matter where i'm from, bada. it was my work, mine! you should have given me the choice to decide how to present it.” bada's frustration bubbled over, her own anger flaring. 

“you don’t get it do you? the company, the fans, everyone expected me to come up with something groundbreaking. i thought i was doing what was best for the group!”

the american's jaw tightened as she stepped even closer to bada, their faces inches apart. “so, what? you're saying your fucking reputation is more important than us? than me? because you couldn't even respect me enough to be honest!” 

bada's voice quivered with heated emotion as she shot back, "no, it's not like that, y/n! i value our friendship more than anything, but i thought i was helping you by showcasing your talent." y/n couldn't contain her frustration any longer. she raised her voice even higher, her words filled with resentment.

“helping me? by stealing from me? i don't need your fucking help!” y/n's shoulders heaved with anger, her face flushed with emotion. "well, congratulations, bada. you got your glory.”

“selfishness? you think i did this for myself? you don't understand how much i've sacrificed for this group, for you!” bada shouted back. the older girl took a step closer to y/n, face so close to hers that she could see the flames dancing in her eyes. and in bada’s own were a hurricane of emotions spinning.

“do you know what they say about me because of you? you shouldn’t even be here, you know that?” bada snapped again, eyes glaring daggers into the younger girl. “you should be thanking me.”

the two girls were too caught up in their argument to notice aespa’s arrival, as well as redlic’s in the practice room. 

it was no longer an argument between two dancers. this was a battle of fire and water.

“is that what you think of me? is that how you really feel about me?” y/n whispered, venom dripping in her tone. 

but it was what bada said after that made y/n completely lose her temper.

the taller girl had a smug glare on her features as she scoffed in her face. “oh, it's not just me. it’s everyone.”

all y/n remembered was pushing the korean girl so hard that bada ended up hitting her back against the mirrors hard. she remembered redlic pulling back the other girl while giselle held by the waist and dragged her away. 

her vision became a blur of red-hot anger and hurt. the room seemed to close in around her, and she was only vaguely aware of the shocked gasps from the others and their attempts to separate her from bada. 

aeri’s grip on her waist tightened, trying to restrain her best friend. “y/n please,” she pleaded quickly. “she isn’t worth it.”

bada’s fingers brushed against the back of her head, checking for any signs of injury. the hurricane of emotions in her eyes had turned into a whirlwind of shock and disbelief. she couldn’t believe you actually pushed her.

the tension in the practice room was palpable, and as if a volcano erupted, y/n's voice echoed off the walls with a mixture of betrayal and animalistic rage. “after everything? you really think that i shouldn't even be here?”

bada hesitated, her smugness fading in the face of y/n's intense emotions. she realized she had gone too far, but her pride prevented her from backing down. “it's just business. it's about doing what's best for the majority.”

the room fell into a heavy silence as y/n's anger and frustration churned within her. she couldn't find words to express the depth of her hurt and disappointment. 

it was redlic who finally broke the silence, her voice stern and authoritative. “that's enough, both of you! we're a team, and this is not how we resolve our issues.” she let go of bada as she turned to face giselle, who still held onto the american tightly. 

“please,” gigi said in a hushed tone, feeling how fast her friend’s heart was beating against her chest. “it’s not worth it, trust me.” she knew y/n was far from cooled down, and she mentally thanked her trainer for the strength training she received.

 the other girls exchanged worried glances, their debut on the line as they witnessed the heated altercation between their teammates.

y/n's chest heaved with the effort to control her emotions, but her eyes never left bada's. “no,” she declared, her voice trembling with a mix of determination and heartbreak. there was nothing left for her. this was it.

no more bada. no more SM. no more dance.

“i quit.”

✧ 𝗦𝗬𝗡𝗢𝗣𝗦𝗜𝗦 ✧ ⸺ 𝗯𝗮𝗱𝗮'𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗳𝗶𝗿𝗲, 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝘀 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿. 𝗻𝗲𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝘀𝘆𝗺𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗵𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿. 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗹𝗹, 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝟯 𝗿𝘂𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗲𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝗳𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗲𝗿: 𝗻𝗼 𝗹𝗶𝗺𝗶𝘁, 𝗻𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗻𝗼 𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗰𝘆.

⸺

✧ 𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ✧ ⸺ @10cmpulisic22 @zhivaxo @the2ndl @moonsvrse @arievlaw @awkwardtoafault @mightymyo @1luvkarina @jisooftme @angel-hyuckie @bangtancritterrrr @unforgivenangel @starchasermyloves @deadgirlwalking3 @cosettesrants @faatxma @santasbitch @jaeneohee @jxrdxnh @kaaylvst @jesuschrist2006 @enhapocketz @stinkbvgs @neuftaeng @sinifere @ocyeanicc @svt-rei @l-a-u-r-a--b @yunjinwrld @leo-dragon @phamminji

⸺ ✧ 𝗖𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗘𝗗 ✧ ⸺

[fiveisnumber1]

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."