#they both see each other for like 1 sec leaving us eternally wondering if They Know

[gaybellkeeper]

also crossing fingers for more bellkeeper screentime. i hope we get to know his name at the very least

[helliontherapscallion]

Lost Time (The Ashes of Yourself Part 2)

Part 1     Part 3    Part 4

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: mentions of suicide attempts/ideation, swearing, daddy/abandonment issues

Word count: 3,879

You and Techno stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, both of you not knowing what to say to each other. So much was left unsaid between you two throughout your childhoods and the past four years that you didn’t know where to even start. You supposed a simple ‘how are you?’ would suffice, but that’d be too simple, far too simple for not talking to each other in literal years. But you couldn’t just say ‘hey, I’m incredibly jealous that you are Dad’s favorite and I totally didn’t send you my suicide note that you may or may not have seen’, that’d be way too much trauma dumping for your taste. You couldn’t think of anything else to say, so you chose to sheepishly grin at him and awkwardly wave. 

“Heh uh, how’re you…?” Smooth, (y/n). Real smooth.

You watched as he furrowed his brows slightly before he hesitantly gave you a small wave with his gargantuan pink hand. “...I’m doin alright. You?”

“I’ve seen better days.”

“Right…”

An awkward silence fell over you two as you glanced down at your bloodied hands. “Sorry bout the blood. It won’t really stop until I stop moving.”

He shrugged, “that’s fine. I’ve bled everywhere in this house. Nothing that won’t come out.”

“Alright then.”

You wanted to crawl into a pit and just let yourself die, you hated this awkward atmosphere you created. Your mind scrambled to find something to say to the man other than a stupid ‘alright then’. You haven’t even seen him in four years, surely you would be able to find something to talk about. You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard him clear his throat.

“I uh got some clothes for you. They’re Tommy’s old clothes from when he stayed with me during his exile. I don’t know if they’ll fit, but I’m guessing that they’re better than the wet ones you’re wearing.”

When he saw you wince when you tried to stand up, he rushed to your side and helped you stand up. You could feel the backs of your knees start to drip blood. “Do you have any spare lava?”

His hands paused on your upper arms, “yes, but why would you need it?”

“It kinda heals me. I mean, just enough that my skin stops cracking open and bleeding everywhere.”

“Why don’t we just take you to a lava lake in the Nether?”

You glanced out the window at the flurry of snowflakes falling to the ground and being whisked off to other places by the harsh wind. You shuttered, remembering what it felt like to be fully engulfed in water. “Water hurts. I don’t want to get burnt out again.”

“Right, I’ll go get a few buckets full. Stay here,” with that, he ushered you to sit in front of the fire once again and draped the large blanket over your shoulders again. You could hear him move to another room and rustle around what you presumed was a chest before you heard his heavy footsteps walking behind the couch. You could hear the billowing of the wind when he opened the door before it was cut off by the door closing. 

You leaned forward and put your hands in the fire, relishing in the feeling of the flames melting away the charred skin slightly. The flames licked and caressed your dark skin slowly giving you more feeling back in the damaged tissue. As you were turning your hands over the flames, you thought about your voluntary near death experience just about an hour before. 

The thought of the ocean finally taking you and dragging your charcoaled corpse into its depths never to be seen again was alluring. After feeling the intense pain and the suffocation that came with chucking yourself into the ocean when you’re part blaze was definitely a deterrent, but you just had to push through the pain. This was something you’d dreamt of doing since you were fifteen and you’d be damned if you were going to let pain stop you. 

You know you felt sort of… grateful that Philza saved you when you were laying on that beach, but now that you had time to reflect on what happened, you felt resentful that he did. Of course he’d take away the only good thing you had going on in your life, he was full of audacity and impudence when you were a kid. He hasn’t changed at all much to your disappointment. You shouldn’t have expected him to change in the first place, that was just something that you knew in the back of your mind would never happen. A large part of you craved his approval and affection, but you knew that wouldn’t happen. 

Your thoughts were cut off by someone pulling you back gently from the fire. “I got the lava. Uh, I can set up an area for you downstairs with netherrack.”

“No, you don’t have to, I just have to put it on my joints for a few minutes.”

“Don’t you want to, uh, fully cover yourself?”

“I can hold off until the snowstorm dies down. It’s nothing too major.” You dipped your hands into the large bucket of lava and sighed in relief, “that’s much better, thank you Technoblade.”

“It’s no problem, but you literally just almost died. How is that something that’s ‘not major’?”

“I’m used to… well, this,” you took a hand out of the lava and gestured to your stone covered arm. “It’s just more than I’m used to. Kinda uncomfortable, but I’ll live.”

“What do you mean you’re used to it? You don’t live by water do you?”

“Yeah, I live by the ocean so I’m bound to get a little charred. No big deal,” you took your hands out of the bucket, shook the excess lava off, and stuck your elbows in. You looked at your now dully glowing hand and wiggled your fingers. There were more blackened scars etched into your skin on your joints, but you didn’t care.

“Heh? Why the hell would you live by an ocean?” 

You wove your hands nonchalantly in the air, “I always liked how the water looked when the sun set. The way that the pinks and yellows would reflect and bounce off the waves? Breathtaking.” You also lived by the ocean so that you had an easy way out of living, but you weren’t about to tell him that. Too much trauma dumping.

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” 

“Have you ever seen the sun setting over the ocean?” You rose a brow at the piglin hybrid sitting on the couch. 

“Well, no but-”

“Then you can’t knock it till you try it. I’ll take you to my old place after I can take a proper lava bath. You won’t regret it, promise.”

“Still, you’re literally made of fire. Look what happened to you… Er, speaking of, how’d this happen?” He looked you up and down inquisitively with his red eyes. 

You sighed as you took your elbows out of the lava and dipped your feet into the buckets. “...Do you still have your communicator?”

You watched as his floppy ear flicked and his eyebrow rose at you, “...Yes, but I only talk to Dad. Why, did you leave me a message?” Before he could stand up to grab his communicator, you stopped him with a hand on his shin. “No, I didn’t. I was just wondering.”

He didn’t look convinced, “...tell me what happened. Were you pushed?”

Your shoulders tensed up against your will before you forced them to relax. “I fell in, got too close to the edge.”

“You’re so lucky Dad was already at your house, you could’ve died. How could you be so careless?” 

You only responded with a blaze-like frustrated grunt that rumbled in the back of your throat and removed your feet from the buckets. Picking up one of the buckets, you took a swig of the lava. The viscous liquid crawled slowly down your throat and soothed your burned esophagus and stomach. Clearing your throat, you looked over to your estranged brother. He was looking at you with disgust, his snout scrunched up slightly and his mouth twisted into a grimace.

“What?” Your voice sounded less strained and scratchy. Overall, it felt better to speak.

“Your- your feet were just in there. That’s disgusting.”

You blew out a puff of smoke and watched as it drifted to the ceiling, “my feet were just in water, remember? They’re clean. And besides, I swallowed and inhaled a lot of water so I needed it. I mean, my lungs are still stone, but there’s nothing I can do about it except wait it out.”

“That’s still gross. Wait, can you not drink water?”

“No- well technically I can, but it hurts. Gimme one sec.”

He was quiet as he watched you take a deep breath and dunk your entire head into the lava bucket you weren’t drinking from. His youngest sibling was… strange, but he found that he enjoyed your company so far. The only company he’s had at his cabin recently was his brothers and dad, which burned him out slightly with their big personalities. You were as awkward as he was and that was refreshing. But he couldn’t help but feel guilty after hearing the majority of yours and Philza’s argument. Now that he thought back on his childhood, the majority of his memories were of him and Philza. He didn’t have many negative memories past his adoption, and that was because he spent all of his time adventuring with Philza. He did everything with his adoptive father and absolutely nothing with his siblings. He knew nothing about Wilbur, well Ghostbur now, or Tommy until they stayed with him during Tommy’s exile. He’s never talked to you or spent any time with you before, and he wanted to get to know who you were. He wanted to make up for lost time.

After you were under for a while, he started to worry that you drowned yourself. Just as he was about to pull your head out of the bucket with a hand close to your forehead, you slowly removed your head from the lava and held it over the bucket so that the excess would drip off from you. Panting slightly, you sat up fully and wiped your eyes clean of the lava. You could hear some rustling in front of you so you opened your eyes to see your brother holding out clothes to you. 

“Go change, I’ll make dinner. There’s a spare room upstairs, second door on the left. You can stay there for now.”

You hesitated before you took the clothes from him, “I… Thank you Techno.” You weren’t expecting him to be so kind to you, he was known as the blood god after all. He was ruthless when he battled, leaving thousands without families. You saw him a couple of times when you were younger coming home with Philza covered in blood with a malicious expression on his face. That always made you try to avoid him; not that you had any difficulty doing that, he was never home. 

He curtly nodded before he turned to walk into where you assumed was the kitchen. You trudged up the stairs and tiredly drug your feet down the hallway towards the second door on the left. When you opened the door, you were pleasantly surprised. You didn’t know what you were expecting to see, but it certainly wasn’t this. It was simplistic, yet it looked like a professional decorated it.

The bed looked incredibly comfortable and soft with a large white comforter draped over the top. At both sides of the headboard, twin chests sat underneath double hung windows with wooden frames that matched the spruce planks that made up the walls. You were sure that once the relentless snowstorm stopped you would be able to see a spruce forest in the distance. Lanterns hung at the far corners of the room opposite of where the bed sat. Glancing at the opposite wall, you saw a framed portrait of a nether fortress. You assumed that it was the nether fortress on the other side of his portal. If you squinted, you could see orange specks that you assumed were blazes. 

After you got dressed, you were pleasantly surprised to see that Tommy’s clothes fit you. Despite the slight bagginess of the pants and the sleeves of the jumper hanging halfway past your hands, they fit relatively well. Humming in satisfaction, you hung up your wet clothes to dry and made your way downstairs following the savory smell of cooking meat and potatoes. Your mouth watered at the smell, it’s been a while since you’ve eaten an actual meal. You’d just been surviving on an apple a day with the occasional potato when you had some leftover from making homemade vodka. 

You walked into the kitchen and looked at your brother standing at the stove, the stove looked miniscule compared to his seven and a half foot tall form. That man was a giant and you wouldn’t be lying if his height alone didn’t intimidate you slightly. If he wanted, he could grab your entire face with his hand. Various light pink scars decorated his muscular arms that poked out from the rolled up sleeves of his blouse. He wasn’t wearing his huge fluffy cloak, instead it was draped over the back of one of the chairs at the large wooden dining table. Every part of your body wanted to take it, wrap yourself up into a blaze hybrid burrito, and take the best nap you’ve ever had. His corseted form moved gracefully around the kitchen grabbing various spices and herbs. 

You saw his ears twitch before he moved his massive head  to look back at you, you could see the corners of his mouth quirk up ever so slightly. “They fit you, that’s good. Take a seat, dinner's almost ready.” With that, you took a seat at the table. You felt like a child again, the table was huge, the tabletop coming up to your lower chest. The table and chairs were made of what looked like dark oak wood. The wood was carved intricately with complex patterns etched into the frame and the back of the chairs. 

You eyed the cape draped over the chair next to you. It was a deep royal red with black speckled white fur lining the border of the fabric. If you looked closely, you could see that the pendant that connected the two ends was made of gold and had a diamond encrusted center. It looked incredibly soft, it would be so easy to just reach out with a finger to pet it. Your brother wouldn’t notice if you did it quick enough so that you could touch it before he turned around. When you gathered the courage to touch the cloak, you reached out with a slightly shaking hand to pet the fur, watching Technoblade the entire time. 

Everytime he would move to grab a spice, you would quickly retract your hand and try to act as innocent as possible only to try again after he didn’t turn around again. Just as you finally touched the fabric, you were in awe with how soft it was. It was like petting a newborn puppy but better. You truly couldn’t put into words how soft it was. 

You were snapped out of your trance by a small chuckle, “soft isn’t it?” You jumped, quickly retracting your hand and smacking your head against the back of your chair in the process. You could feel your cheeks heat up more than they usually did, you could see the glow of orange intensify at the bottom of your vision. Your brother was staring at you with amusement, his mouth quirked up in a small smile. He was carrying two plates full of steak and potatoes, putting one in front of you before walking to sit opposite of you. 

“Uh, yeah. It- it’s really soft.” 

“I got it from a nation thousands of blocks from here, it wasn’t easy to get. Those guards were not happy to see me stealing from their king.” He chuckled before he started to eat his food. 

“Is that where you got the crown too?”

“No, Dad got it for me as a going away present when I moved out… You’ve grown up so much since I’ve last seen you. I remember when you barely reached my waist and now you’re only about a foot and a half shorter than me.” 

“You’ve gotten taller also, more scars too.”

“You as well. Are all those from water?” 

“Yeah, it only scars when I crack the stone on my skin though.”

“Ouch. So like you get scars whenever you move?”

You shrugged, “basically.” Turning to your plate, you struggled with not wolfing down the entire thing in one go. You didn’t want to have your brother get the impression you had bad table manners. Wilbur raised you better than that. When you took a bite of the stake, you moaned slightly at the taste. Quickly swallowing your mouthful, you looked at your brother with wide eyes. “Ender Tech, where’d you learn to cook? It’s delicious.”

He gave you a small bashful smile and shrugged, “when you’ve been living alone for this long you pick up on a few things.”

“I’ve been living alone for about a year now and I still can’t cook.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “well what do you eat then?”

“Just an apple a day, maybe a potato too if I have any to spare.”

He narrowed his eyes, “how the hell are you still alive? That’s hardly enough.”

You blankly stared at your plate, “I’ve been asking myself that everyday, things aren’t… amazing living alone. Uh, let’s talk about happier things. I wanna get to know you.”

He stared at you for a while before he sighed, “fine, but we’re talking about this later. How do you wanna go about getting to know each other?”

“It’s gonna be hard cuz we have like seventeen years to catch up on, but I think we can do it. Let’s… let’s play the favorites game. We take turns naming a category and we both say what our favorite thing in that is. I’ll start, what’s your favorite type of mythology? Like Greek, Egyptian, Norse…”

His eyes lit up at the mention of mythology, “I like Greek mythology. I can talk for hours about it.”

“Nice! I personally like Norse mythology better, we have to exchange myths sometime.”

“My turn, what’s your favorite myth?”

You matched his excitement, “I really like the Ragnarok myth. The fact that the gods know of their impending doom and destruction and are actively working towards it is- is just really intriguing. What’s yours?”

You both abandoned your meals as your conversation diverged into telling each other various myths from your respective favorite mythologies. Your favorite ones he told you were the tales of Orpheus and Eurydice, Persephone and Hades, and Psyche and Eros. You were a sucker for romance even if the thought of you being in a relationship was something you were uncomfortable thinking about. Romance stories just made you happy to see people finding comfort and fulfillment in each other. You told him more about Ragnarok, the creation of Mjolnir, and the murder of Baldur. 

Before you two knew it, hours passed by. Your untouched dinners grew cold and the clock struck midnight startling both of you out of your story telling. You both looked at the grandfather clock then back at each other in shock, “we’ve been talking for four hours Tech.”

“Yeah, we did. It- it was nice talking about mythology. Usually people get bored when I talk about it.”

You rolled your eyes, “Ender, I know. Why don’t they find it as interesting as we do? It’s been a while since I’ve had someone to talk to, it’s nice.”

“We better go to bed, we can just eat a bigger breakfast tomorrow before we take you to the Nether and your house. You probably want to sleep in your own bed.”

You laughed nervously, “yeah about that… I don’t really have a bed anymore. Or an actual house for that matter.”

“The fuck happened?”

“I may have burnt it down accidentally.”

He was silent for a bit before he looked at you suspiciously. “Are you gonna burn my house down?” And there’s the thing you hated most when you told people of your lineage and abilities. They always believe that you’re a being of destruction and inferno. They always grow to not trust you around them or their possessions fearing you would burn them to a crisp. You cursed your biological parents daily for giving you these genes.

You shrunk in on yourself slightly, “no, I’d never do that to you. I’m in control as long as I keep my emotions in check. Can’t get too excited, scared, or happy. I just can’t do anything extreme and my temperature stays low.” 

He grunted, nodding in satisfaction. “We probably should get to sleep soon if we wanna get stuff done before the family reunion.”

“I forgot about that… Have you met the kid Phil’s gonna adopt?”

He drew in a long breath into his nose and huffed it out of his mouth. “Yeah, his name’s Ranboo. And he’s actually only about half a year younger than you are. I don’t know how to feel about him yet, but he seems like he has good intentions.”

You drug a hand through the flames idly flickering on your head, “is Phil seriously gonna adopt another kid? I don’t think it’s a good idea for him.”

“That’s what I thought, I don’t need any more orphans running around here. You, Tommy, and Wilbur are more than enough. We can talk more about this in the morning.”

With that, you picked up your plates and took them to the kitchen. Before you could turn on the water faucet, a hand on your shoulder stopped you. “I’ll get it. You can’t be around this stuff.”

“A little water won’t hurt me. It’s the least I could do, you made dinner.” 

“A little water will hurt you. Go to bed, I’ll handle this. It’s only two dishes.”

You opened your mouth to argue with him, but it snapped shut as soon as he gave you a warning look. “Go to bed (y/n).”

“...Aright, thank you for doing that. I’ll see ya in the morning.”

He grunted as you walked out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and into the guest room. You walked straight to the bed and plopped down onto the surface. You felt sort of bad that you were rubbing soot off onto the white comforter from your still charcoaled skin, but it was nothing that you couldn’t clean in the morning. The bed was extremely comfortable, a stark contrast to your old one. Your old one had lumps and some exposed bedsprings sticking out of the fabric. With the weight of the heavy comforter and the plush mattress, you were out like a light.

General taglist (comment if you want to be added):

 @crybabyjabby  @izzybobizzy13  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @bunnyz-pxstel  @averytiredfanfictionwriter  @dcml04  @sparkling-gayyyy  @bbigbbrainn  @thaticecreambish  @kiinokochii

Series taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@appetiteofapeoplepleaser  @misfortunatem00n  @hee-hee-haw  @bi-narystars  @akikko-yataro  @snapple311  @jo171718  @alex--awesome--22  @cinnamonmochi  @waterstrawberry  @jefferyepsteindidntkillhimself  @imamusicalnerd  @fo-love  @sylumarts  @theshitinmytrunk  @rinzyx05  @wasteofspacze  @bands-are-amazingly-addicting  @im-a-depressed-gay  @charlotte-is-missing  @s-n1428  @lifestylesleep  @dame-sunflowers  @bongwaterflavoredgatorade  @aestheticpkmntrainer  @emma-the-duck17  @pek0ra  @wreny24  @willow404  @shiningsunrises  @vanhakirja  @dont-hug-me-im-a-fander  @soulless42  @giavanna

[ficsnroses]

Friends With Benefits Chapter 8 - Keanu Reeves x Reader

Chapter VIII ~ The Death of Us.

Part 1  Part 2 Part 3 Part 4  Part 5  Part 6 Part 7

Word Count : 3.7K

Warnings : so much angst omg. nsfw, smut. crying? 

Series Summary :  What happens when two, lonely friends start seeing each other for sex? A tricky friends with benefits love story, when feelings get in the way.

A/N : Oh gosh. Welcome back, three more chapters after this! let’s get this show wrapped up by June. Feedback is so so greatly appreciated, please do leave comments if ya get a sec :)

Chapter 7 Recap : Keanu and Y/N sort out their argument, and Y/N apologizes for her behaviour. They spend an evening together, and Keanu decides he’ll put his feelings aside to keep Y/N happy; keep their relationship as solely fwb and nothing else. However, after ending up in bed together again, Y/N leaves Keanu’s home in tears late into the evening, unable to bear the reality, that their relationship will perhaps never be more than just sexual. 

.

Being lost; when the mind and heart won’t work in harmony.

You’ll find peace,

            Through harmony, they whisper.

The untouched hills and thick ash clouds promise solitude, they become tempting as the streetlights pass, light fading away before shot back up in the next lamppost’s amber glow. Beyond the hills, they cease. The surrounding land falls remote, only whispers of gusty dry wind and occasional howl of the nightly residents breaking amity. A blanket of silence falls the car, the feel of the cold steering wheel riveted in your clammy fingers,

the only tolerable sensation.

Skin frigid, yet your insides burn. A never ending burn- the sensation almost brings you comfort, something strangely familiar as of late; your facial muscles barely twitch, lacklustre formed to the thought of what you’d just run away from. What you’d left behind. Tension, apprehension exaggerated in the lines of his forehead. A faint grimace lingers the planes of your face, heart in agony to the thought of those haunting dusky orbs, drained and spent as he watched you leave.

He has a heart of gold, and you know you’re killing him. He cares for the ones who mean something to him far too much. You’re hurting him. You know it. It felt as if you’d constantly been pushing him, pulling him, never quite finding the balance you craved.

After all, only your weak, mortal shell remains, the breeze filtering in from the slightly cracked passenger window a residual grace to your skin.

Your dreary mind never leaves the passing streetlights. They seem almost as pulses of light, rhythms of transition on your tedious drive home. The light comes back around just when you start to need it most; the piercing glow ignites your way,

fleetingly although. 

Even the streetlights end down the road- for down the road, never-ending darkness is all that’s left to perverse.

Keanu. Maybe you and Keanu, would be out of streetlights soon.

How long could this go on anyway? When you started out, the rules were clear. Love hadn’t been factored into the equation, yet here you were. You are in love with the only man you weren’t supposed to be with. And you can run from it; from yourself. But you can't be with him around. Not when your relationship is founded on exactly what lovers do- yet a fallacy, for you.

You’d been looming in silence, for what felt like an absurd eternity. Lost in thought, as if silently quarrelling to yourself that you need to let him go. He doesn’t deserve this; you don’t deserve this. 

The sudden sputter of the car engine creaking rumbles, the reverberations of turbulence so dense as the turmoil increases, the worn out tires faltering slow. Gravity sinks its nails in, immediately dragging them down,

slow,

slow,

            before they stop.

Don’t they say, the one you long for never leaves your mind? Your thoughts are free to roam anywhere, chase any reverie, yet it's surprising how often they head in his direction. His words seem to spring as a song well rehearsed, a melody tuned a thousand times. “You need to get rid of this thing, Y/N.” - the ring of his slight chuckle cursing through your remembrance. “It’s going to break down on you someday.” He’d reason, tone thick on concern.

Ingrained on your mind, a thick groan coarses your lips, wheel clenched in your hand. Slammed on the wheel, your palm stings with pierce, frustration copious in each action, each movement.

Of course, this would happen to you. Stranded, at 11:00pm on an empty LA street, your home still miles away awaits. The towers and mechanics would have bid goodnight a while past, and you didn’t quite know enough people in town to call. Apart from,

the same man you’d just practically run from.

Your jaw clenches and your features fall stoic, left no other choice than to see if Keanu could come by. What would he think? Perhaps pity. Perhaps, disappointment. Feasibly, the infamous “I told you so”. Truth be told, he may have been the last person you wanted to see right now. The last person you wanted to ask for help. Perhaps it was your own personal defence mechanism; your chant to the world, to him, that you’re fine. You don’t need someone, even if that someone was him.

A chilled gust of wind propels through the car window, uncertainty broad on your mind. With your fingers gripping the cold frame of your cellphone, you anticipate his voice on the other end, as if in a race with your own mind. Had you even known what to say? What does one say when they’ve practically left you, without reason, knowing it hurt you? Yet again, the universe proves. Your vanity ends in failure.

You’d sworn a breath had caught in your lungs when you heard his voice on the other end, deep and worn, a drowse apparent. He’d probably tried to get some shut eye after the happening of the eve, and yet again, as always, you’d intruded. 

“Y/N?” His voice holds confusion. You swallow a lump, unsure of how to start. “Hey,” Adopting a milder, soft tone than when you’d left. “I didn’t know who else to call.”

“Are you okay? Something wrong?” He inquires, a ruffle of movement on the other end. Defeated, your cold hand runs through the weary strands of locks on your head, the smell of burnt gasoline impelling the tip of your senses, dense and robust.

                 Isn’t it funny, how the smell of gasoline is so pleasurable, even though you know it’s bad?

Guilt. Finding pleasure in the wrong place. It’s not good for you. Why must some of the best things not be good for you?

“I’m on 231st. My car gave out on me.”

There’s a slight silence that falls to the line; unsympathetic, hollow, ambiguous. Would he care? What if he’d been upset over how you’d left tonight? What if he’d finally had enough of these abrupt changes of pace? Keanu and you seemed to never get it right, never finding the balance you so desperately wanted.

In a moment, he begins, more ease to your hurtling mind now. “Don’t go anywhere.” He replies. “Stay in your car, lock the doors and keep your phone close by.” The door slams shut on his end, heavy footsteps pacing to the car. “Be safe, okay? I’m on my way.”

Relief washes over, seeing his tall frame and concerned expression trekking towards your car door. He’d been the last person you wanted to call; yet also the first, the only person you wanted to see. There’s always been something so familiar about him, something so comforting, something you can seem to escape.

The evening air is powered with something indefinite, twilight fallen with the first buzz of mosquitos in the distance. The air stood damp and cool, his features a little softer in the darkness that surrounds.

He opens the car door, allowing you to step out, your gaze unknowingly fixed to the pavement below. Relief shone clear and bright on his face, his urge to pull you to his chest; give you the security you deserved right now strong. Yet, he opts for a mellow hand placed to your shoulder, cautious from the events of the evening prior. “You’re okay?” He asks, giving a gentle squeeze.

“Yeah.” You nod. “Thanks for coming, really.” Assuring, your hand waves slight, a gesture of peace. “I know it’s really late and-” swift, his hand raises, waving off your words, considerate. With a nod of his head, he gestures you towards his car, heavy palm reverting to the small of your back now as he guides you, his need to make sure you’re really safe and okay fresh on his mind.

“My place is a lot closer, I’ll take you with me.” He casually throws out, prepared for the argument he knew you’d put up.

“No, it’s alright, really. You know I’m only 15 minutes from here.” You maintain, turning your gaze his way. With a sigh, he starts again, eyes hefty with please.

“Y/N, please.” His eyes clench shut, features tight and dense, breathing in a deep inhale. “I didn’t want you to leave tonight, but you did. And now this…” The street around you was quiet, dim light and distant cars humming made the atmosphere almost far from comfortable. “Please.” He reiterates. Glancing up towards the moonless black, you bite back another weary sigh. Perhaps…

“Okay.” Sucking in a dull breath, you gesture to his car, him following suit as with your enfeeble bones take place in the passenger seat. With his hand firm on the drive, he pulls onto the dark LA road, his house en route, lines on his forehead exaggerated with concern for the woman he loves so dearly, but can’t have.

You’d been acting strange lately, far too distant for his liking. It seemed as if no matter how hard you both tried, you couldn’t find the balance. Couldn’t find whatever it was you needed to save your sinking ship. And it was eating away at him, killing him to know that undeniably, undoubtedly,

you were slipping away.

            even if he never really had you.

It had been a tough night, a tough day for both of you. Yet, his mind only wondered what you were feeling. Were you alright? Did you hate him for making you come back? He needed to be let in so desperately, needed to know what was written out to be far too soon. It had been tough for both of you today, yet he only cared about you. You before him, always. With his eyes briefly diverting to you, staring out the car window with an intent gaze, he shifts his hand slowly, gently to rest over yours on your lap.

To say it hurt him when you flinched, so slightly, barely noticeable, would be an understatement.

It shot daggers in him.

Yet, he offers a gentle squeeze when you keep it in place ultimately. “What are you thinking about?” He offers, voice smooth, expression mildly curious as he turns to look at you, filling the silence.

You stay quiet for a moment, gaze never leaving the mountains outside, passing by. That feeling had come back. The feeling of assurance, the feeling of being safe with him. You almost wished your brain would forget how sheltered he made you feel.

It would make all this a lot easier.

“It was raining not long ago.” You speak, voice soft, low. His lips stiff straight in a thin line, minor hum of nod through his breath. Your tone stays quiet, the thought of him heavier on your mind than the sharp LA mountains outside could ever be. “But it stopped.”

“It always stops” He speaks. “Sooner or later.”

His voice had that gentle hum to it, the serene sedative comfort. And then to the thought of it, you stared out the window, and stared, and stared, and stared.

He placed his hands on your soul,

before reaching for your hips; or your lips. And that was what ruined you.

How did you ever let it get this way? How did you ever let it get

   this

   way.

Late into the eve, you’d found yourself back exactly where gravity seemed to pull you, each time. There, with him, under him while he made love to you; only the love was what was missing, and with Keanu, it seemed it would always be. He isn’t in this relationship, he never was, never will be. It’s just you, alone, hoping, pleading that he’ll see through you; understand what this is not how you want him.

With the only light in the room filtering in from the moon side glow & the LA city night lights, you feel him on top, weight of his body on yours, his arms on either side of you holding the bed as he thrusts. His features are barely defined, yet you make out a thin line of sweat on his forehead; mouth slightly agape, breaths rugged and low. His chest heaves, cock pulsing inside your clenched cunt, the bed frame rocks, hitting the wall with each jerk. He wasn’t touching you in any other way than his member pumping your warm, wet folds, hastily, a controlled pace steady with his rocking hips. His balls slam, hitting your core each time, loud in the quiet room as you whimper quietly, fingernails sunk into the blades of his shoulders,

and with each slam, you feel yourself further and further realizing,

         This isn’t working anymore.

This is all you know with him, so this is what you do. And you know you had no right to be upset over it. This is what you signed up for. You did this. You let it get this way.

These aren’t the sounds you want to hear anymore. This isn’t the way you want to feel him anymore. These sounds, these sinful sounds compare none to what you want, what you need. 

You wanted it all, 

the soft whispers, quiet laughs shared late into the night. The sound of his pure voice when you haven’t heard it for a while, the gentle hum of his throat when he’d tell you he loves you. The simple, mundane life together. A life where he’s a significant part, but in more ways than just this.

Your bodies shudder with pleasure, but you know it’s only a temporary illusion. You see him, and you want to feel him so close, but not this way. This isn’t what you ever wanted, it was never what you really wanted. That night when you first had sex a year ago should have never happen. And it should have never happened again, and again, and again.

You did this to your friendship. And now it’s too far gone for fixing; too far lost to mend.

This isn’t working anymore.

This isn’t working anymore.

The morning comes, as it always does. Your bones feel as if they ache, tired eyes needing a moment to adjust to the light around, remembering where you were. In Keanu’s bed, yet the spot beside you lays empty, vacant. Finding yourself bare from the waist under, you remember the sex session the night prior, and you’d opted to leave your bottoms on the bedroom floor as he drifted to sleep, beside you.

Was there even anything to hide from him anymore? Nothing he hadn’t seen a hundred times. 

With a lift of the heavy duvet, you barely climb out of the mattress, shimmying on the full of your clothes, before heading downstairs. You should be outta here soon, anyway.

The house air smells of dark coffee, the scent of a morning cigarette barely filtering in from the patio backdoors. You’d always hoped he’d quit the nasty habit, take better care of his health where he could.

Cold tiles trace under your feet, a small yawn elicited when you feel your weary bones ache, wanting nothing more than to go home, away from him for now. Seeing him, being around him was proving to be far too hard. There was no running from it now. It was clear as could be, laid out on the table.

You are in love with him. You know it, and you know it shouldn’t be.

But it is. It so fiercely, truly, is.

You find him stood by the window, gazing beyond the backyard foliage, phone propped to his ear as he speaks low, quiet. Making yourself known with a slight cough, your eyes meet as his frame turns, lips curled to a smile your way. His cocoa orbs look dewy in the morning light, cheeks rosy with a slight excitement, something so warm, so inviting.

You’d wish to hold him in your arms, just that way. Keep him that way forever.

Sitting at the kitchen stool, you wait for him to finish on the line, before you’d let him know of your soon departure.  Within a few moments, Keanu retires the phone call, moving your way. 

“Morning.” He greets, pouring you a roasty cup of a.m. coffee from the burner.

“I’m okay.” You return, shifting in your seat to sit straighter now. “I’m just about heading out actually, an Uber’s on the way.”

Brows furrowed, he speaks. “You just woke up. Stay, I’ll make us breakfast.” With a sip of his earthy dark, he sets his phone down on the granite counter, a lingering smile catching your eye. “I wanted to talk to you about something, actually.”

Your hands find place in your lap, listening to his words. “Oh...okay. Sure. What’s up?” You inquire, unsure, yet slightly hopeful it may be something you so desperately wanted to hear, something you’d frantically hoped he’d let fall off his lips; that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same.

That maybe, you could find the balance, together.

His hand runs through his overgrown, dusty mocha locks, a small chuckle let off. “Okay, I just got off the phone with an acquaintance who deals autos.” Your expression reverts to plain, a pierce of defeat courses through your nerves. “And there’s this brand new model of a great car. You just need to sign the paperwork and it’s yours. I’ll take care of it.” He tells, 

and you swore you’d heard a slight hint of sympathy to his tone. Cold, pitiful, 

sympathy. Is that what you were now?

“It would cost more to fix the one you have now than it's even worth.” He explains, watching your expression fall. “And I don’t want you having to worry about it, you deserve a break. Really.” He reasons, trying his best to make out the look on your fallen face.

With your eyes set on the counter below, your thoughts scramble, desperate to gather, choke out a response. But nothing comes out. Nothing at all for the first few moments.

“Y/N?” He asks, head tilting in an attempt to meet your lowered gaze. To be met with assertion; affirmation, is not what he’d thought would come, when the wavelengths of your sunken voice allow into the now colder room air.

Headstrong, yet collected, you regret the words he’d said. “Who do you think you are?” You say, voice low, yet assertive. Your hands unknowingly ball into a fist, emotions running high through your veins. “What is this, charity?” Standing now, you push the counter stool away, finally bringing your irate eyes up to his. “I don’t need your charity.”

“Y/N,” He starts, a hushed breath slipping past his lips as he stares wide eyed. You looked destroyed almost, raw, a sight he felt break at him.

“No.” You stop him, hand moving up to block his trek further. “Don’t.” Whispering, your voice breaks, the feel of complete, and utter, defeat gnawing your bones. There was a dull ache of exhaustion nearing your temple, your forehead pulsing, but you’d gotten very good at disregarding it by now.

His features tense, regret seeped. “Y/N, I didn’t mean it like that.” He reasons, attempts at moving your way shunned as you back away now, toward the door. You force your fingers to relax their deadly clench in your balled fist, eyes shut tight as you desperately pray this wasn’t happening.

It was finally happening. 

It was inevitable.

“Y/N,” He pleads, fearful that this time,

the rain would abide for good, transpiring a full fledged storm. And it wouldn’t end.

Not now, not ever. It’s all too much, & the friendship, the companionship feels far gone. It’s turned to sympathy.

You turn his way abruptly, locking eyes, voice dipping into something colder as you begin, tears forming in the corner drops of your eyes. “Did you even bother thinking about how this makes me feel? Or did it not matter because you’re ‘Keanu The Great’, fixing the entire world’s problems? And I’m just another hopeless case in the bunch?” You say louder than intended, lip quivering with a shame that felt wounded, the pain of him becoming more unbearable by the second. He watches you, and it's killing him to see you this hurt.

It’s killing him that he did this. Again. He fucked up, again. He feels the sting of tobacco on his tongue from a burned smoke earlier, but doesn’t look away from your eyes; despite the firm voice inside telling him that he should.  He watches you, unable to move. Unable to leave.

Unable to do anything at all to make it alright.

“You’re not…a charity case for me, Y/N. How could you ever think-” He barely manages, voice faltering thick in his deep throat, wanting so desperately to reach out and hold you in the comfort of his arms, explain that everything can be okay again.

Yet his words only seem to add fuel to the fire inside you, voice channeling through the house walls as you dispute. “Not a charity case?’ You fathom, jaw tightened as you try your best to uphold assertion, dominance. “We sleep together, for fuck sake!” You almost cry, feeling each and every wall around you,

Crumble. Crumble to shreds.

“Did you not once think how much this would hurt me? How degrading this feels?” you’d tried hard, yet they’d escaped. The tears escaped; and the end was near.

His legs move again, inching near your feeble frame. “I’m so sorry, Y/N, please, hear me out.” He pleads, reaching for the soft skin of your arm, as you retract away, wiping your bleary eyes. “Okay, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.” He begs, backing away for your comfort, his own heart breaking piece by piece for his love in front of him, hurting, and it’s all

his

fault. 

“Please don’t cry, Y/N. Im sorry, really.” His weary hand runs through his hair, scared, in fear that he’d hurt your relationship forever, and any attempts at being more. “We’ll talk later, sweetheart. Okay?” He tries, hoping the nickname would bring calm to your rage. Noting Keanu’s expression, your watery eyes stay focused on his, sincerely connected, and you allow your features to soften, adopting a milder, more reasoned tone. With your voice cracking, you speak ultimately into the morning air, the words set solid, 

forever.

“No we won’t.” You begin, swallowing the lump in your throat. “This isn’t working anymore.” You croak, the tears burning so bad now, filling your eyes. “We’re over.”

And the words pierce through Keanu, as if the bullet of a thousand guns force. His heart drops, left nothing but a gaping hole of dark to fill the void, and the words black out his overthrown mind, pulsing with an ache.

           We’re over,

     Before we even started.

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

>>Part 9>>

In order for my fics to show up in tags, my taglists will be posted in reblogs from now on. Let me know if you want to be added or removed from either this series, or the permanent! :)

[sevenseasofrog]

Lads ‘n Lasses Chapter 4

single sex schools are never boring

high school!ben x fem!reader

2.7k words

a/n: lol hi, Me for the first time in about 10 billion years. I kind of hate this Chapter?? But I’ll put the next part up tomorrow which should be better :-)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

As the autumn colours became deeper and the summer temperatures began to fade, you began to feel as though you were dragging yourself through each day, the thought of your plush duvet at the end of it keeping you motivated. Luckily enough though, it wasn’t just you who the changing seasons effected, and your friends were also beginning to look a little more disheveled with each morning that passed by, and it soon became clear that everyone was desperately in need of a break from the school routine. By the final week of term, motivation to even get out of bed each morning was severely lacking, and it seemed to be the same for Ben. Some mornings the pair of you didn’t even have the energy to speak, still content in each others company though, leaning on each other when you finally flopped down on the tram’s plastic seats.

You hadn’t forgotten that you were supposed to be coordinating your friend’s costumes for the mysterious Halloween party you knew very little about, but it definitely wasn’t your top priority- especially since your workload in and out of school had increased rapidly only a few weeks after the start of the new term. Since the gathering was set to take place on Friday, it was Tuesday that you figured you had to at least start thinking about how terrible you wanted your four closest friends to look. After a few hours of careful consideration and research you found yourself rather impressed with what you had come up with. If they wanted a group costume, a group costume they were going to get. It was perfect, inducing childhood nostalgia and characters which seemed to parallel your friends personalities, the five of you were going as none other than the Scooby-Doo gang. You couldn’t help but feel at least a bit proud of your master plan, but decided to keep it under wraps, just to add to the suspense. You spent the rest of that night drawing out meticulous plans, giving yourself Thursday and Friday to finish them. Out of instinct however you left the next day free, knowing that it was highly likely you would be spending the evening out somewhere to celebrate the beginning of the short break from school.

As he had done for the past five weeks or so, Ben had waited patiently outside your house for you to stumble out the front door, usually looking a little disheveled. Believe it or not, this was one of the things he had begun to admire most about you, little to your knowledge. The fact that your hair sometimes fell across your face, still messy from the previous nights sleep, and more often than not you would have acrylic paint splodged over you like some form of radioactive dalmatian. Both of these were the little things Ben had started to pay more and more attention to, and he couldn’t help but find himself smile whenever he thought of you.

“Last day of your first half term then Benny boy” you spoke with a grin. “Ready to go back down South yet or can you handle a little more of this?”

He couldn’t help but let out a laugh, “I think I’ll cope y’know, maybe a little longer, might even make it to Christmas!”

“You bloody better Jones! otherwise I’ll have no reason to even leave the house in the morning, then I’ll drop out of school, adopt a load of cats and drink cheap wine every day because I never got any a levels.”

“What a pity that would be” He retorted, with blatant sarcasm. You rolled your eyes and gave a gentle shove before the pair of you continued the walk to the tram stop in a content silence.

Eventually, you made your way onto a tram and flopped down on each other. You closed your eyes, enjoying the warmth of the autumn sun and found yourself dozing a little, this didn’t last long however.

Ben flicked your cheek before he spoke, “y/n, wake up you big loser, what are we doing after school?”

“I was wondering how long it would be before you asked, I don’t really care though. Won’t it just be easier to wait till the others get on and ask them?”

“We’re seeing them on Friday though, and Saturday I guess, and probably most of next week too”

“You have a most interesting way of thinking Jonsey. But you’re not wrong. What are you suggesting?” You spoke, followed by a smirk, “Won’t you be seeing me today, tomorrow, the day after that and next week however?”

“Shutup and come to mine tonight okay? We can have a takeaway from wherever you want and we can make up shitty excuses as to why we can’t do anything with the others because right now I can’t really be bothered with anyone else.”

You felt a little taken aback, but unsure as to why. Ben had spoken with a twinge of emotion in his voice, and suddenly seemed a little wound up- most out of character.

“Alright. You got me, but only if we’re having a chinese?

“Suits me”, he spoke with a smile, seeming somewhat relieved, before you both sank into each other in the seats. Even making the cold plastic seem a little more comfortable.

School has been productive. Well, as productive as you could have made it given that you only had some art coursework to finish and given that Ben’s sudden decision that he didn’t want to see anyone else that evening was playing on your mind. You had scrubbed the last of the dried acrylic paint off the battered brushes you had kept for god knows how long and were about to put them back into your bag before being interrupted by the lunch bell. Figuring you should reconvene with Maria and Niamh, you began to head towards the common room so that you could grab some lunch before heading to the library for the rest of the afternoon.

“y/n! hello? care to join us here on planet earth?” Niamh waved a hand in front of you, you had forgotten about your mediocre salad and had started daydreaming mid-conversation.

“shit yeah, sorry, just tired, i was sorting out the outfits for friday until like 2 this morning or something like that”

Maria chimed in too at mention of Friday, “oh yeah! the costumes, I’d forgotten about those, they’d better be-“

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, undoubtedly your mum checking if you were staying in school or leaving after lunch. “One sec, let me just check this”

Benny:

Call me when you can. i’m going home.

You couldn’t help but wonder whad gotten into the boy, shocked by the sudden character change, you figured this was your call to leave and find out what the hell was going on with Ben. Now all you needed was an excuse to leave.

“Shit, sorry, erm… it’s my mum…she’s locked herself out and needs me to let her back into the house…” You scrambled to pack your bag and put your blazer back on “duty calls… I’ll see you on Friday night yeah?” You signed out at student services and began to walk towards the met stop.

benny: incoming call

“Ben what the hell are you playing at? where the fuck are you?” You heard the frustration in your own voice and couldn’t help but regret it.

“Why do you sound like your running a marathon?” Because I’m speed walking like a lunatic to come and find you thank you. “I’m nearly at the tram stop.”

“Right, ok… wait for me… I’m nearly there”

“see you then.” He hung up.

You continued the walk, thoughts racing, surely someone had just said something to wind him up? Nothing worth overthinking really? You eventually found Ben after what seemed like an eternity of walking and he stank of smoke, he had a cigarette between his lips and it was certainly not the first one of the day. “You going to tell me why I had to up and leave or are we going to pretend it never happened?” You demanded.

“We’re not talking about it until we get home” He said, slightly muffled. As if on queue, one of the yellow trams pulled into the station and Ben put out his smoke before dragging himself onto the empty tram, you followed, still feeling slightly bedraggled. The boy threw himself onto one of the chairs, visibly frustrated, you sat on the row behind and began digging through your bag, simply looking for something to do.

The tram ride was long, painfully so. The silence between the two of you was deafening, something you never expected to happen, but it was clear that Ben needed space from the moment you met back with him. You reached your stop and the two of you stood up, briefly making eye contact with each other.

“I need to erm, get some fresh clothes from mine if that’s okay...on the way to yours..These aren’t exactly.. y’know.. comfortable” You spoke, gesturing at the suit you had worn the past two days.

He gave a curt nod, and you continued the walk away from the platform. You quickly unlocked your front door and shoved a few essentials in a bag, along with an oversized shirt and some joggers, well aware that this would be a long night. Ben has waited downstairs, waiting to head back out again a little further down the road to his house.

It was definitely bigger than yours, and much more modern. It wasn’t that you disliked newer houses, you just felt a somewhat alienated stepping into something that felt more like a spaceship than a house. Each to their own though- that’s what you had always figured.

“Gonna tell me what’s got you in a tizz or do I get the joy of guessing?” Desperate for some hint of the Ben you knew to return.

“We’ll go upstairs first yeah, then we can get changed or whatever” He began to trudge up the stairs and you followed. By the time you caught up with him in his room, Ben already had half of his clothes off, and although now definitely wasn’t the best time, you had to admit to yourself that topless Ben certainly wasn’t a sorry sight as you slipped into the marble en-suite.

“You’re killing me Ben. What’s happened for the love of God?”

“People happened.”

You checked yourself over before unlatching the bathroom door again. For the record, the old grey pants paired with the extra large shirt you had brought at some past gig certainly wasn’t your best look, but it was going to have to do for now.

“C’mon grumpy you can tell me all about it like i’m your very own agony aunt” You grabbed his wrist and flopped onto the bed,causing Ben to follow with a thud.

“So what have people done to you to cause such a commotion Benny? You’ve never been like this and you’ve got me proper fussing about you” He rolled onto his back and began to speak.

“They’ll do anything to drag you through the dirt. I haven’t put a foot out of line and half of the idiots at school have decided they don’t like me for it. It’s so fucking stupid I don’t know why it’s bothering me...It just is and I could honestly-“

“Ben it’s probably pissing you off because that’s a normal human emotion I’m afraid…”

“But it’s not just that and it’s another stupid thing honestly I don’t know what my problem is because it’s got nothing to do with me and-“

“One thing at a time okay? Start at the beginning and then if you want, you can tell me what else is getting to you.”

You felt bad for Ben, you really did, he hadn’t done anything wrong and it was clear he didn’t have much experience in handling his emotions. You threw a packet if tissues at him after he began to snivel and kept brushing his face. It was clear he trust you, this was something which brought a strange relief over you that you couldn’t quite explain. The main thing you could do do help Ben was to listen to him, and boy was he glad that the pair of you had all night.

You had migrated downstairs at around 8pm to order food, normally you would have both sprawled out separately over two of the three sofas in the front room, but when you came back from a trip to the kitchen for glasses of water, Ben had parked himself at the end of where you were sat.

“I was cold.” He looked up at you, as if trying to read your thoughts.

“I never said anything Jones! If it was anyone else I’d have told them to move but I think you can be an acception” You had honestly been expecting some sort of reply, and it came as a bit of a shock to you when you looked up to find Ben staring at the t.v. absentmindedly.

“Ben? what’s up?”

“Sorry it’s just, it’s not worth it don’t worry..” he trailed off

You have a stern look, “Anything you think or say is worth my time Ben, I really mean it.”

“It’s just. Jones. that’s what they call me, at school and, I don’t really know why it bothers me but… I’m not Jones, I’m Ben and, it bothers me-“ His eyes had gone slightly glassy again, “It bothers me because they don’t care about me, they care that I score tries and bring the team up the leaderboard. That’s Jones. I don’t even think Ben likes rugby, but what else can you do when it’s expected of you.”

“One thing at a time yeah?”

“I told you it’s stupid”

“yeah you did, and I completely disagree, it’s Benny from now on”

“No one's ever really called me that to be honest..”

“Does it bother you?”

“I think I like it.. but only you can get away with it from now on”

You leaned back onto him as the pair of you waited for the takeaway to arrive, you had sincerely hoped that Ben felt a little better at least, it was glaringly clear that he was more worried that unloading his problems would simply pass them onto you, and you had taken the opportunity to reassure him that you weren’t there to judge him at several opportunities.

You had been talking about this and that until a wave of fatigue hit you at what must have been around half one in the morning, Ben had insisted that you should go upstairs and sleep in his bed and he would take the sofa.

“Ben you’re my best friend I’m pretty sure I can cope with sharing a bed with you, we’ll both be out like lights when we get up there anyway”

You both made your way up the stairs, leaving the remainder of the takeaway to deal with in the morning, and fell onto the the mountain of crisp white pillows. You burrowed your way under the duvet, waiting for Ben to follow. “Y’know.. this is really comfy. Makes my bed feel like a fabulous pile of rocks.”

“Does the job I suppose”

“à le matin mon aimie”

“à demain”

You felt yourself drifting into a deep slumber, unsure as to weather or not Ben was still talking. “I know it’s late but are you awake?” You gave a grunt, which the boy opposite you took as a response.

“At school right.. well where else would it be.. and I don’t know if it’s true but I thought I’d tell you just in case but erm.. People were saying Lewis has a thing for you and I know you’re supposed to be my best mate but it bothers me because-“ he gave a sigh. “It bothers me because I think I like you, and I know it’s only been two months, but you’re more than I could ask for in a friend and-“ He realised that he had been greeted with silence. “y/n” Ben had to admit to himself that he was a little disappointed when he realised you hadn’t heard a word he said, already fast asleep. He wasn’t sure if he’d tell you again in the morning, or if it would ruin what he felt was one of the best things he had in a long time.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

@fatbottomedbitch , @crazyweirdocalledfriday , @borhapandshawn , @benhardyjones , @simplyvictoria-93 , @virtualsheepeat

Sorry that my tag list is a bit dodgey, pretty sure that usernames have changed so let me know if you want adding :) xoxo

[edogawatranslations]

999: Alterna (2) - Part 6, Chapters 6-9

Table of Contents | Previous: Part 6, Chapters 4-5

Chapter 6

What if Zero is one of us?

My words only caused everyone else to freeze in place. Nobody said a thing in response. However, everyone’s pupils darted around, attempting to read the others’ hearts.

Each time one person’s eyes locked with another’s, the atmosphere in the room grew more rigid and awkward.

“...J-Jumpy, what are you saying?” Akane said, no longer able to stand the silence. “Did you not hear what Ace said a little while ago?”

“Yes, that must be it,” Ace continued. “I was saying, we must avoid recklessly suspecting one another, or else—”

“Recklessly? There’s nothing reckless about it,” I interrupted. “I have proof.”

“What do you mean, proof?” Seven asked.

I stuck out my left wrist. “Our bracelets. Why is the detonation controlled by an automatic countdown?”

I had thought that Zero was observing our every action from a distance. But if that were the case, all he’d have to do is remotely detonate the appropriate bomb when a rule was broken. That would be the sure-fire, simpler method.

“However, in reality, Zero jumped through a bunch of hoops to set up these bracelet-controlled time bombs. Why is that?”

Nobody answered.

“It’s not just the bracelets. The same can be said for just about everything in this game.”

The many contraptions set up throughout the ship were all autonomous. Everything had been programmed to proceed mechanically, without any need for Zero to directly intervene. Why was that? Why would Zero go so far to set up these bothersome devices?

Only one answer made sense.

“I see. So that’s why you think Zero’s hiding among us.” Santa smiled coldly. “If he’s moving together with us, it’d be tough for him to closely monitor all of our actions or control things remotely. That’s why everything on this ship had to be set up to function autonomously... You’re smarter than I thought.”

I couldn’t take that praise as anything but disdain.

I continued, “I believe Seven’s theory that ‘Snake’s killer is among us’ and Ace’s theory that ‘Zero killed Snake’ are both correct. Zero is one of us.”

Nobody refuted my argument. I didn’t know if they were convinced or not. Everyone continued to stare in silence, stern expressions plastered on their faces.

Chapter 7

What seemed like an eternal silence was finally broken by the grandfather clock on the central staircase signalling the time.

The deep, heavy sound of the bell rang out three times. Only three hours remained.

“We’re only wasting our time arguing here. We must move on,” Ace said, looking around at everyone.

“But—”

My attempted rebuttal was only met with his sharp, piercing gaze. My body subconsciously flinched from his commanding glare.

“Do you not realize how dangerous it is to pry into things? Our fates are in Zero’s hands. What would you do if he could detonate the bombs inside our bodies with the press of a button?”

Ace’s opinion stood to reason. Carelessly provoking Zero was not a good idea. Backing him too far into a corner would only make him desperate.

Zero had to be one of us. I wanted to reveal his identity as soon as possible, but Ace was right—we needed to shut up and move on.

“Oh, that’s right.” Lotus clapped her hands together in realization. “I totally forgot to tell everyone on account of everything that happened with Snake... But I found it. The next set of numbered doors.”

Claiming the credit all for herself, Lotus puffed her chest out with pride.

“No kiddin’?” Seven asked.

“Yes. Come, follow me.” Lotus opened the white door and started walking down the hallway that led to the central staircase. Seven, Ace, and Santa followed suit. Clover, however, didn’t budge from the bed.

“Clover, let’s go too.” Akane gently rested her hand on Clover’s shoulder.

“...Leave me alone,” Clover said listlessly, keeping her gaze pointed downwards. “I don’t care what happens to me anymore. If I can’t be with my brother anymore... I can’t go on living. I’ll stay here, forever...”

“I don’t think that’s what your brother would have wanted,” Akane said, showing concern. “Zero wants you to stay behind and despair. Don’t you want to rebel against that? Let’s stop his plans, once and for all.”

“I don’t really care about that...”

“Don’t you want to keep living for your brother?”

Clover’s shoulders twitched.

“I want to keep living.” Akane’s bright-eyed appeal to Clover’s emotions stole my heart. The confident girl standing there was not the same timid girl I grew up with. She continued, “I don’t want to die in a place like this.”

With a look of determination, Akane turned her head up to face the empty ceiling. Her tenacity to live lit a fire in my heart, inspiring a burst of newfound energy within me.

Akane’s right. We’d never accept dying here. I vowed to myself.

“You must not ever lose hope. What’s important is to have faith, and to have love. When all of those conditions are met, good luck is never far behind,” I said, walking over to Clover. “Clover, that’s what you told me. You can’t give up here.”

With her right hand, Clover clung to the pendant that had been swaying around her neck and slowly looked up.

“Brother...” She wiped her tear-stained cheeks with her other hand. “You’re right... If I die here, then I couldn’t tell anyone anymore about how amazing my brother was...”

Akane helped her off the bed. An awkward smile appeared on Clover’s face.

“Thank you... I feel better now.”

Although she had a slight stagger in her gait, she appeared at ease as she walked off towards the white door. Akane and I followed closely behind, supporting her on either side.

Once we reached the white door, Clover turned around to look at the [3] door.

“So long, Brother.” She rubbed her puffy red eyes as she offered her parting words to Snake. A sense of solemnity filled the air.

“Now, let’s hurry.” Akane took Clover by the hand and guided her through the door.

Chapter 8

As I followed the two of them down the narrow hallway, thoughts raced through my head. Though Ace had warned about how dangerous it was to pry into things, I couldn’t help but wonder about Zero’s true identity.

“You need at least three people to open a numbered door. The culprits used the <RED> with Snake and opened the [3] door. And then they pushed him in.”

Seven’s words echoed in my mind. If his theory was right, then that meant at least two people were responsible for Snake’s death.

If so, which two people could have opened the [3] door with Snake?

First, I thought of the possible combinations if two people were responsible. Snake’s bracelet number was [2]. Which other two bracelet numbers would make a digital root of [3]?

It wasn’t a difficult calculation. In order to make a digital root of [3], the bracelet numbers would have to make a sum of 12. Since I knew that one of the numbers was [2], the other two would have to add up to 10. There were only two possible combinations.

The first was [4] and [6]—Clover and June. No, that was impossible. There’s no way June could be Zero.

Which left only one other combination: [3] and [7]—Santa and Seven.

If there were only two culprits, that would be the only possible combination.

Now then, what if there were at least three culprits? First, I thought of the combinations of bracelet numbers including Snake’s [2] that added up to 12.

[2] + ([1] + [3] + [6]) [2] + ([1] + [4] + [5])

Again, there were only two possible combinations. However, neither of these could be possible. I for sure wasn’t Zero, and it was difficult to think of Akane as a culprit.

Then, what about the combinations that totaled 21? This calculation took a bit more effort, but somehow I was able to figure it all out in my head.

[2] + ([4] + [7] + [8]) [2] + ([5] + [6] + [8]) [2] + ([1] + [3] + [7] + [8]) [2] + ([1] + [4] + [6] + [8]) [2] + ([1] + [5] + [6] + [7]) [2] + ([3] + [4] + [5] + [7])

Six possible combinations. I threw out all of the combinations that included me or Akane.

[2] + ([4] + [7] + [8]) [2] + ([1] + [3] + [7] + [8])

Once again, only two possible combinations remained. As it would be difficult to imagine that Clover feigned her grief, I crossed the first combination off in my mind. That left just one—Ace, Santa, Seven, and Lotus. This was impossible as well. If the four of them were conspiring together, then they should have easily been able to carry out an even more convoluted plot. For example, when Ace, Clover, and Seven went to search the x-ray room, that would have been an opportune time to kill Clover.

This meant that the Santa-Seven combination was the most suspicious. I had to stay vigilant around the two of them from here on out.

Pushing open the black door, we reached the central staircase and finally caught up to the four who went ahead. We all shuffled into the elevator and headed up to A-Deck.

After stepping off the elevator, I took the lead from Lotus and guided everyone to the numbered doors.

The [6] door stood straight ahead.

The [1] door stood to our left.

The [2] door stood to our right.

The large iron doors stood firm, as if scorning our frightened figures.

“...This makes eight of them,” Lotus said while rubbing her right wrist.

“Eight? Eight what?” Seven asked, furrowing his brow.

“Geez, you’re slow. The first set of doors was [4] and [5]. Next came [3], [7], and [8]. And now, [1], [2], and [6]. That means we’ve found eight doors already, you see?”

“Ah, guess you’re right. ...Wait a sec. Then that means the next door is...”

“Yep. I think it’s highly probable.” Lotus crossed her arms and smirked. “The next numbered door is [9].”

We were close to the goal.

I felt an anxious throbbing in my chest. At the same time, an unnerving sense of fear crawled up my body.

Only five of us could pass through the final [9] door. Two of us would be left behind.

Before long, we’d have to make that decision.

Would I be able to remain calm when that time comes?

Chapter 9

I secretly confided in my brother all of the inexplicable things that have been happening with my body.

Yet he simply laughed everything off.

He doesn’t believe me at all.

Of course.

I can’t possibly blame him.

After all, not even I fully believe everything that’s been going on.

Next: Part 7, Chapters 1-2