#this drama hurts

[egophiliac]

What do you think of Rook's savanaclaw card? <333

I didn't get him (and I need to save my keys for Silver's birthday, sob) so I looked up his groovy, and I'm not over how incredibly dramatic and epic and cool it looks in direct contrast to the absolutely ridiculous context. just look at that dynamic action and his majestic sparkling tears and keep in mind that this is pretty much right after a bunch of characters have been dance battling for his soul.

and then even the actual moment of the groovy is just like

this is NOT a negative in the slightest, I love it all, this truly was an incredible update in so many ways

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I'm a doctor, not a miracle worker.

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[ao3demographicssurvey2024]

In the AO3 Demographics Survey 2024 - an unofficial demographics survey of 16,131 AO3 users - the three most popular genres/tags were Hurt/Comfort, Romance, and Canon Divergence, while the three least popular were Genderswap, High School AU, and Character Death.

To see more analysis, including comparisons to real fic data and previous surveys, please view the full results on AO3.

[hedgehog-moss]

9am: Pirlouit & I are waiting for the farrier; it's Hoof Day! The farrier always tends to run late so I have a thermos of tea and a breakfast pastry to eat as we wait. Pirlouit has been offered some hay and has refused to eat it because he's sulking because it's hoof day.

Isn't it nice to get a pedicure, Pirou?

9:10am: The farrier is late and Pirlouit is worried, wondering what we're waiting for here on the road. Maybe he has been sold? to a sadistic new owner? who's going to shove him into a crate and send him to the salt mines like the donkeys in Pinocchio? Plus, he's more stressed than usual today because one of his hooves hurts (hence the farrier appointment), he's been limping for a few days and he doesn't know what the farrier will do to the hurt hoof. I told him there's only a 30% chance that he'll amputate it.

9:15am: Pirlouit's family is here to support him though! Or, in the case of Pampérigouste, here to puzzle out a vexing mystery.

9:17am: The llamas have grown bored of standing there in support and have started eating the brambles near the gate (supportively). Very good initiative, I approve. Also I thought Poldine was trying to eat the brambles outside the gate (greener on the other side and all that) but no, she was trying to fit her head through the bars for a little kiss </3

9:20am: Even Merricat is being supportive. (Well, she's waiting for me to go home so she can finally take her first morning nap in my lap.) Also Pirlouit has found some grass under the leaves and temporarily forgot all of his worries.

9:22am: Poldine is determined to kiss this cat.

9:24am: The farrier is here! As always he starts doing Pirlouit's hooves right there in the middle of the road, and if a car shows up well, "they can wait a few minutes... On n'est pas aux pièces" (this is a phrase for "there's no rush" that I've never heard anyone but my grandma use, it's nice to hear it again!) There aren't any cars anyway.

9:27am: Pirlouit's hurt hoof has been diagnosed: he has an abscess. Since this autumn has been relentlessly rainy I thought perhaps it was a fungal infection—but the farrier told me he's been treating a lot of abscesses lately, as the very wet weather softens hooves which allows bacteria to enter.

9:30am: The abscess was successfully drained and Pirlouit is now wearing a fashionable hoof bandage. He was very calm and brave throughout <3

9:35am: The farrier left his car by the side of the road, and after releasing Pirlouit we crossed the pasture to go home have a cup of coffee.

9:45am: The farrier is gone; end of the post :)

10am: Pampe is gone, too.

Well, she probably left around 10am but I didn't immediately find out as I had more pressing problems. After the farrier left I went to get a small apple to reward Pirlouit, and when I returned to the pasture and he came over for his treat, I realised he was limping. But on the other side. We've just treated his right front hoof, and he is now holding up the left front hoof...

9:57am: After giving Pirlouit his apple I go home in a hurry to call the farrier and ask him to come back. But there's almost no mobile service around here and I can't reach him. This is so frustrating, he can't be very far... On a hunch I call a horse farm not far from here, maybe it's hoof day for their horses as well?

10am: It's not, they have no farrier appointment today, but when I explain my predicament the woman on the phone goes "if it's just to drain an abscess I can send you a guy who'll do it, no worries!" Every time I've had someone from this farm on the phone to ask something or other, they've offered to Send Me A Guy. It's never the same guy too, they have an endless supply of guys.

10:05am: Having accepted gratefully, I return to the pasture to catch poor Pirlouit again, who thought I was done bothering him for today. As I wait for The Guy, I find a spot with some unexpected mobile service and start googling hoof hardeners, because maybe if Pirou's prone to abscesses it's worth having something in prevention for wet months?

10:15am: I receive a text from the guy.

"Is it normal that your llama is on the road with a dog? They are going to [village]."

10:16am: I reply to the guy.

"It's neither normal nor abnormal."

10:17am: I tie Pirlouit to a tree and run back to the barn to get some muesli. Then start running on the road, trying to figure out how Pampe escaped, and the answer seems obvious: after his coffee the farrier crossed the pasture again to get back to his car, and he knew about the Special Anti-Pampe Safety Knot 3000 but either forgot and closed the gate like a normal person, or didn't do it correctly. Pampe in her little llama brain knows very well that most visitors don't know about the Anti-Pampe Knot so she hurries to check the gate after a stranger leaves her pasture. Meanwhile I was busy noticing Pirou's limp and trying to call the farrier back and I didn't check the gate as I usually do.

10:20am: The guy has found me trotting on the road with my muesli and picked me up in his car. We go back to where he last saw Pampe. I apologise for wasting his time and he tells me "I've heard of your llama" in a tone half-sympathetic half-fatalistic.

10:24am: Pampe & Pandolf have been located; are having the time of their lives. Pandolf is a bit sheepish when I call him, though. He loves going on adventures with his best friend so much but he knows it's a bad dog thing to do for some reason :(

10:34am: The Guy is trying to push Pampe forward with his car while I try to attract her towards me with my muesli in a carrot-and-stick routine; Pampe occasionally veers off-road to eat some leaves, inspect the mud in the ditch, pretend to admire a cloud while secretly brainstorming strategies.

Guy's commentary: "This is worse than dealing with an escaped horse. I feel ignored. I feel powerless."

10:39am: Pampe is home! She didn't actually go very far. But since she hadn't locked the gate behind her, when we arrived we found Pampelune on the road as well, just sort of waiting for us like a sentinel. Pirlouit was still tied to his tree staring at his inexplicably orange foot, and Poldine was panicking because her mother had abandoned her for the millionth time and her grandma had left the pasture too and she couldn't figure out how :((( All she had to do was fiddle with the gate with her nose really, but it never occurred to her to do so, she's too innocent. She only inspects gates in order to figure out how to kiss someone through them. So she was alone in the pasture trotting in circles, making undignified sad goat noises when Pampe & I returned.

10:53am: Pirlouit's other hoof has been treated, hopefully he'll feel better and stop limping soon... I'll have to remove the bandages with scissors, clean both hooves and re-do the bandages in a couple of days which is probably going to be a whole Thing, considering he's suspicious of buckets of water and scissors and objects in general. But as for now everyone is in the pasture having some celebratory hay and Pampoldine is deeply relieved to find that she hasn't been abandoned by everyone forever (as she assumes every single time.)

Also I realised I only paid the farrier half of what I owed him... I had prepared the exact sum but I had half in one pocket and half in another which was a risky idea. And neither of us checked what I was handing him, or noticed. He called me back when he arrived in a place with mobile reception and I told him about the whole affair and he said it's a good thing I accidentally paid him half because he didn't see the other abscess and failed to make the Anti-Pampe Knot 3000 so "it's a fair discount." So I got a half-price farrier visit thanks to Pampe (partly)... I won't tell her because she already thinks she's doing the world a favour by escaping (free fence integrity checks, free cardio training for me by forcing me to do interval running, free entertainment for everyone, plus her modest contribution to cosmic chaos.)

11am: I meant to take an "all's well that ends well" photo of the whole family but I realised Pampe is making her angry hammerhead shark face because her adventure was very short-lived and I didn't even take a picture of her escape, as I'd left my phone in my coat pocket under Pirlouit's tree (& supervision) when I went after her. (I figured I was about to run for 15min and would not need my heavy coat)

She thinks I did it on purpose to demoralise her by refusing to document her victories. But she's not giving up.

[tarantula-hawk-wasp]

Obviously you might have varying opinions for specific fandoms but generally if you think across many of them which do you prefer?

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Sweeter Than Revenge Masterlist

Summary: A surprise visit to see your brother turns sour real quick when he doesn't share your hopes of mending your strained relationship. Rudely dismissed by Scott, you seek to give your brother the biggest possible middle finger by joining forces with his rival. Yet the more time you spend with Tyler, the more you begin to discover that there are some things sweeter than revenge.

TW: Romance (potential eventual smut), Fake Dating Becomes Real, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Language, Family Drama, Strained Family Relationship, Reader is Scott's Younger Sister, Tyler Picks Up Reader, Brief Description of Reader's Clothing, f!reader, more to come/specific's listed on each part

Status: On-Going

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight (coming 9/30)

More to come!

[zaczenemiji]

absolutely no rush if you're occupied with other asks :D!! I love your writing so so much your descriptions and dialogue are so good 😭💓 could I possibly request a scenario where the reader (working alongside kenji as ultraman/on the sidelines as a civilian, whatever you desire!!) unexpectedly throws herself in front of kenji and takes a hit for him (bonus points of they had unresolved tension before [argument, interrupted confession, one character was sick and rejecting help etc etc; no pressure at all and pls write whatever you'd like i'm just throwing out random suggestions!!]) + the hurt/comfort to follow after? thank you so much! ☺️ i wish you the best!

In the Heart of Danger

Kenji Sato x Reader

Synopsis: As tensions between Kenji and the KDF rise, you become entangled in the conflict, leading to a dangerous confrontation that puts your life at risk.

Word Count: 2,710

Genre/Warning: Action, Angst, Drama, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Sacrifice, Violence

Author’s Note: Slight mention of themes from Too Good, Too True

MASTERLIST

For many years, Ultraman and the Kaiju Defense Force worked in harmony. But as KDF evolved under different leadership, so did its philosophy. Their arsenal grew more lethal, their strategies more aggressive. Dr. Onda's vision was clear: the complete eradication of all kaiju was the only path to true safety.

Ultraman held a different perspective. Those magnificent creatures had their own place in the natural order. He believed in protecting life; only fending them off to prevent destruction, not to annihilate them.

KDF’s methods became increasingly ruthless. Where Ultraman sought balance, KDF saw only the necessity of total elimination. The final straw came when KDF started viewing Ultraman's reluctance to kill as a liability, a hindrance to their ultimate goal of eradication.

Thus, the Kaiju Defense Force turned their attention to identifying Ultraman's human form, intent on neutralizing this perceived threat.

"Kenji, you can't keep dismissing this," you said, frustration lacing your voice. "The KDF is closing in on you. They know something's up, and they're not going to stop until they confirm you're Ultraman."

The evening air was thick with tension as you and Kenji sat across from each other in his house. It started with a simple disagreement but it had escalated so quickly.

Kenji ran a hand through his hair, his expression one of exasperation. "I know the risks, (y/n),” he replied. “But I can handle it. I've been doing this for a while now."

"Handling it?" you echoed, incredulous. "You've barely been able to stay one step ahead of them. They've got advanced technology, Kenji. They're not just going to give up."

You remember the incidents with Gigantron, how KDF was willing to get rid of Ultraman, so as to obtain Emi. And for what reasons? To use a frikking baby to lead them to Kaiju Island—to massacre, for the mass murder of those misunderstood creatures.

Kenji sighed heavily, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of determination and fatigue. "I can't stop,” he said. “If I don't transform, people will die."

"I'm not asking you to stop," you said, your voice softening. "I'm asking you to be more careful—to consider the danger you're putting yourself in."

Kenji's jaw tightened and he looked away, the weight of your words settling heavily on his shoulders, “I know you're worried about me. But I can't just sit back and do nothing."

"Then let me help," you pleaded, reaching out to touch his arm. "We're a team, remember? You don't have to do this alone."

"I can't put you in danger, too,” he pulled away slightly, his expression hardening. “It's bad enough that I have to deal with this. I don't want you getting hurt because of me."

"Kenji," you said, your voice firm. "I'm already involved. Whether you like it or not, I'm in this with you. And I'm not just going to stand by and watch you risk your life without doing anything."

He shook his head, his frustration evident. "You don't understand,” he said. “If something happened to you... I wouldn't be able to live with myself."

"And what about me?" You shot back, your eyes filling with tears. "Do you think I could live with myself if something happened to you, and I did nothing to stop it?"

There came a long silence.

He never asked for any of this—you know that firsthand. You didn’t want this either. Only a fool would want to throw away the peaceful life they had in LA, away from the chaos, the danger, and the constant fear of losing their beloved.

But when Emi came and when Kenji reconnected with his dad, you both understood. Ultraman is a vital element, the pinnacle of balance, the one that would keep the world in its equilibrium.

He who holds the scale holds the lives of many. He who carries the burden also carries fear. And with it, the sacrifices to ensure the collective safety of humanity.

Your tears spilled over, and you wiped them away angrily. "You're an idiot, Kenji,” you said. “A noble, self-sacrificing idiot. But I'm not going to let you do this alone. Whether you like it or not, I'm going to help you. And you're just going to have to deal with that."

"No. You don't get it,” Kenji's expression hardened again. “This isn't about what you want. It's about keeping you safe."

"And what if I don't want to be safe?” You demanded, your voice breaking. “What if I want to be there for you?"

"That's not your choice to make!" Kenji shouted, his frustration boiling over. "I can't lose you, (y/n)!”

"And I can't lose you either!" you screamed back. "Why can't you see that?"

Kenji's eyes flashed with anger. "You should have just stayed in LA!" he snapped, his voice cutting through the night. "You're becoming too nosy, and it's dangerous. I can't have you getting involved in this.”

You stared at him, stunned. Kenji never hurt you in any way, especially not physically. But the weight of his words hit you like a punch to the gut.

Without another word, you turned and stormed off, your heart pounding in your chest. You didn't look back, even as the tears blurred your vision.

Kenji stood to follow. But with the way you ran away, he knew you didn’t need him at the moment. Still, he worried for your safety. Quickly, he rode his motorcycle and followed you quietly from a distance to ensure you reached home safely.

Everything that unfolded hurt Kenji as much as it did you, if not more. This was the time he finally truly understood his father—why he let them move to LA, why he had to endure the pain of being separated—all because he wanted them safe.

Kenji loves you more than anything, more than you ever knew. He loved you enough to have the resolve to let you go if you finally wanted to be out of all this. You deserved the best, better than a complicated life with him.

When he had seen to it that you’re home safely, he stayed in front of your house a little longer, wanting to be there in case you needed him.

You knew what he was doing. You knew that he was following you. And you were grateful, truly grateful, that he didn’t let you be out here alone. He understood the space you needed and he respected it. This was just one of the infinite reasons you love him so much.

When you arrived home, you sat by the door, leaning on it as you let your tears flow freely down your cheeks. Kenji is a hero, and heroes need saving, too. You wanted to be the one to do that.

Little did you know, you were already doing so. You didn’t know how much you were saving him by being there for him. You have been doing so since day one—since meeting you in LA, losing his mom, coming back to Japan, raising Emi, and fully accepting his role as Ultraman.

Your eyelids became so heavy from all the tears that you didn’t notice that you’d drifted off to a nap. You were awakened by the sound of Kenji’s motorcycle engine as he started it.

You stood to take a peek through your window, careful not to let him see you. He looked your way one last time before driving off into the night.

When he was out of sight, you decided to head on over to your bed but before you could do so, you heard the mechanical sounds of drones.

Your eyes widened as you quickly looked back to see KDF’s drones heading in the direction Kenji went to. With a gasp, you hurriedly slammed the door open and ran out, forgetting about the identical watch you had with Kenji that was repeatedly beeping with an alert of a kaiju attack.

You ran as fast as you could, following the drones as you were sure that they were after Kenji. Suddenly, you heard familiar screams in the distance as the neighborhood awoke to a mundane scene of a kaiju attack.

You looked to your hand only to see an empty wrist. You groaned to yourself, of all the times you could forget it, why now?

Despite being unaware of what was happening or which kaiju was it this time, still you followed the drones. Upon turning the corner, you saw Kenji parking his motorcycle aside so he could transform.

However, this time, KDF came prepared. A squadron of heavily armed soldiers arrived, their weapons calibrated to disrupt his transformation sequence.

As the soldiers closed in on Kenji, one of them set up a cannon, aiming it directly at him. Realizing the gravity of the situation, you sprinted toward the scene, your heart pounding in your chest.

The targeting system locked onto Kenji's energy signature, and the barrel began to glow with a blue hue, signaling the impending shot. Just as the operator pulled the trigger, you threw yourself in front of Kenji.

The concentrated beam of energy hit you with full force, sending a searing pain through your body. You screamed as it disrupted your bio-energy field, causing immediate paralysis and intense agony. You collapsed to the ground, feeling your strength drain away.

The soldiers, momentarily stunned by your intervention, hesitated as Kenji caught you in his arms. "No, (y/n)!" Kenji's voice was filled with anguish as he held you close.

The effects of the cannon had taken their toll on you, but your selfless act had given Kenji the precious seconds he needed. He transformed into Ultraman with a flash of light, creating a barrier to protect you from further harm.

With the kaiju approaching the city, Ultraman's form loomed large, and the soldiers were forced to retreat, their weapons ineffective against his fully transformed state.

Although hesitant he had to make a heart-wrenching decision to choose between being your lover and being Ultraman.

He carried you as gently as he could. In the palm of his hand, your fragile body lay unconscious. He quickly ran back home where Mina awaited him.

Upon arriving, he carefully placed you in the bed Mina took out of the house. “Mina! Emergency analysis, please!” He begged. “Call my dad, do everything to save her! I’ll be back as soon as I can!”

With that, he dashed off to the scene of the kaiju attack. His mind was a mess as he fended it off as quickly as he could, even if it meant hurting it unintentionally, and even if it caused more infrastructural damage.

Ultraman’s heart pounded as he rushed home, the streets blurring past him in a haze of worry and exhaustion. As he reached the familiar door, he transformed back to his human form.

Kenji burst into the house. The scene before him made his heart ache even more. You lay unconscious on the couch, pale and still, with Mina and his father sitting beside you, their faces etched with concern.

Hayao looked up as his son entered. "Kenji," he said, his voice a mix of relief and sorrow. "You're back."

Kenji dropped to his knees beside you, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. "What happened? How is she?" he asked, his voice breaking.

Mina spoke up. “KDF used a new weapon, something we haven't seen before,” she started. “It emits a high-frequency pulse that disrupts the transformation process. When (y/n) threw herself in front of you, she took the full brunt of the attack."

Hayao nodded solemnly. "It's designed to incapacitate Ultraman before he can fully transform,” he said. “But on a human... it's much more dangerous. It's a miracle she's still alive."

Kenji's hands trembled as he held yours, his eyes never leaving your face. "Is there anything we can do?” He asked, tears racing their way out of his eyes. “Anything at all?"

"We've done what we can for now," Mina said softly. "She needs rest and time to recover. We'll monitor her closely. But Kenji... it's serious. The weapon has caused significant internal damage."

Hayao placed a reassuring hand on Kenji’s shoulder. "You did what you had to do, son. You saved countless lives tonight,” he said. “But we need to be prepared for what comes next. The KDF won't stop now that they know you're Ultraman."

Kenji nodded, his resolve hardening. "I'll protect her. I'll protect all of us,” he said through small sobs. “But right now... I need her to wake up. I need to know she's okay.”

As the night wore on, Kenji stayed by your side, holding your hand and whispering words of encouragement. He thought about all the times you had supported him, how you had insisted on helping despite the danger. The argument from earlier seemed trivial now, overshadowed by the reality of your sacrifice.

"Please wake up," Kenji murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm so sorry. I should've listened to you. I should've protected you better."

The room was filled with the soft hum of medical equipment and Kenji’s quiet sobs that refused to give up on the person he cared about the most.

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the windows, Kenji felt a slight movement in your hand. His heart leaped, and he leaned closer, his eyes searching your face for any sign of awakening.

"(Y/n)?" he whispered, his voice trembling with hope. "Can you hear me?"

Your eyelids fluttered, and a faint groan escaped your lips. Slowly, you opened your eyes, blinking against the light. When you saw Kenji's worried face, a weak smile crossed your lips.

"Kenji..." you murmured, your voice barely audible. "You're okay..."

Kenji's eyes once again filled with tears as he nodded, his grip on your hand tightening, "Yeah, I'm okay. Thanks to you. You saved me, (y/n)."

You tried to sit up, but pain shot through your body, and you winced. “What... what happened?” You asked.

Mina quickly intervened, gently pushing you back down with mechanical hands that protruded out of her spherical body. "Don't try to move too much,” she said. “You were hit by a weapon KDF used. It was meant for Ultraman, but you took the hit instead."

Hayao added, "You were incredibly brave, (y/n). You saved Kenji's life."

You looked at Kenji, your eyes filled with concern. "I couldn't let them hurt you,” you said softly. “I had to do something."

Kenji leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "And I promise, I'll never let anything happen to you again,” he said, his tears falling down on your face.

The days that followed were a blur of pain, recovery, and quiet moments shared between you and Kenji. True to his word, he never left your side, his worry and guilt evident in every action he took to ensure your comfort and healing.

Each morning, you woke to the smell of freshly brewed tea and the sight of Kenji bustling around the kitchen, preparing breakfast. Despite his own exhaustion, he insisted on doing everything himself.

"Good morning," he greeted softly one morning, bringing a tray of food to your bedside. "How are you feeling today?"

You offered a weak smile, propping yourself up on the pillows. "A little better, I think,” you answered. “Thanks, Kenji."

He set the tray down carefully. "You need to eat,” he said. “You've got to get your strength back."

In the afternoons, when you felt strong enough, Kenji would help you sit up and move around. He'd guide you outside to the lawn, where the sun's warmth and the gentle breeze seemed to hasten your healing. He'd support you with a gentle but firm grip.

"I don't want you to overdo it," he'd say, worry etched on his brow. "Just take it slow."

As the days turned into weeks, your strength gradually returned. The pain lessened, and the color began to return to your cheeks.

The days of your recovery were not just about healing physically but also about rebuilding and strengthening the trust and love between you and Kenji.

You had faced danger and come out stronger, more united. With each passing day, you became more sure than ever that together, your love could overcome anything.

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@eternallyvenus @puppyminnnie @wattpadsuckssohard @sakura-onesan @reggies-eyeliner @buggs-1 @miffysoo @spencerrxids @stupidbutsmart @marimargirlies @mixvchelle @lannnu @lailuv21 @christiinee @abracarabbit @youngbananamilkshake @flutterfly365 @o-schist @brazilsho @arrozyfrijoles23 @finestflora @mmeerraa @mianbaobaoo @skyeliteratures @themourningfox @despacito-uwu16 @crimson-mage-02 @vinegarjello @btszn

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

i saw them in the cookbook pages and Immediately thought of this meme:

[nanierose]

The tension building up between Orym and Dorian is so good narratively. Two hurt people, one grieving a very recent death and the other whose grief was triggered by seeing his family's murderer hours ago? Of course they're going to end up hurting each other, even if unintentionally. Grief isn't rational, it's pure emotion and unfortunately emotions can get the best of you. Even the most controlled people can slip up.

Orym bringing up Cyrus to make a point was a dick move, no arguing that. He should have known better, even without knowing the role the gods had to play in Cyrus's death. The fact he doesn't know the full details certainly doesn't help though. Dorian appearing to agree with Ludinus, something that Orym has had to bat down every time they have the gods discussion, was an unknown trigger that he stumbled upon. Not his fault at all, but still something that hurt.

The point is, they're both at the moment trying to handle their grief individually and give the other space, which is hurting both themselves and each other. If they were to talk openly and support each other in their grief they would be able to navigate things a bit easier. It would still be hard, but they would at least be doing it together.

If they did that immediately though it wouldn't make for a good story. We need to see the bumps and hurdles, the realisations and apologies that cement the relationship further. It would be nice if they never hurt each other and always said the right thing, but that isn't realistic and would eventually be boring to watch. Robbie and Liam know this, which is why they're both leaning into this conflict until it eventually either blows up or one of them takes the lead and they actually talk properly. It may be soon or further down the road, but it's going to be an interesting story whatever happens.

[loveexpelrevolt]

GAMBIT & ROGUE | X-Men ‘97 1.04 “Motendo / Lifedeath – Part 1”

[gracemeadow]

[aterfish]

"And they don't know how much they’ll miss At least until you're gone like this"

other version under cut

and a closeup for his ID:

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 321

You know Content Warning? Lethal Company but youtube videoing? 

Danny does that- just well, with the Zone. It’s not like it can be mapped out, what with people moving their Lairs and more lairs and islands constantly manifesting. And well, there’s so many things out here, and it’s not like he can be an astronaut.

So, he decided to make exploration logs for the Zone instead, alongside his friends and a doppelganger or two holding equipment. It’s great, and people can donate whenever he live streams so he’s getting income too. 

He just erm, maybe should have double checked it was uploaded to just his dimension…

[fraternum-momentum]

bonus: "washing off" Kylar's wounds:

[lila-lou]

✨ His second exception - Pt. 1/? ✨

Summary: The moment Ben found out you were pregnant was probably the happiest moment of his life. However, happiness proved fleeting. Now, he is faced with the aftermath of his shattered dreams. Of what is left of you, and what is left of him.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! NO Smut but BIG TRIGGER WARNING, Language, Ben being hurt, Reader being hurt, soft Ben, sad Ben - it´s STILL a fucking mess

Word Count: 5620

A/N: This is the sequel to “His only exeption” - and Part 1 of "His second exception".

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

Ben’s chest began to glow, the swirling energy a manifestation of the intense emotions he could barely contain. The rage, the sorrow, and the helplessness threatened to consume him. He clenched his fists, struggling to keep his powers in check.

“Ben, you have to calm down”, Annie said softly, stepping closer. “You’re going to hurt yourself—and her—if you don’t”.

But Ben couldn’t hear her over the roar of his own anguish. He slammed his fist into the wall beside your bed, the impact reverberating through the room. “I failed them!”, he shouted, his voice cracking. “I couldn’t fucking protect them!”.

“You did everything you could”, Butcher said, his tone steady. “Right now, she needs you here, not losing control”.

Annie nodded in agreement, her eyes pleading. “Ben, please. For her sake, you have to stay calm”.

But Ben was too deeply lost in his emotions, his chest still glowing with a dangerous intensity. He was trembling with the effort of holding himself together, and it was clear he was on the verge of losing control.

Annie’s voice grew more urgent, her worry evident. “Butcher, get him out of here! Now!”.

Butcher tightened his grip on Ben’s shoulder, his own expression a mix of concern and determination. “Come on, mate. Let’s step outside”, he urged, trying to guide Ben towards the door.

But Ben was in his own world, unable to resist or calm down completely. His chest glowed brighter with each passing second, the raw power within him threatening to erupt. Butcher, sensing the urgency, made a split-second decision.

With a grunt of effort, Butcher sped Ben outside to the roof terrace. The night air did little to cool the fiery glow emanating from Ben’s chest. Desperation etched on his face, Butcher tried to reason with him one last time. “Ben, you’ve got to get a grip”.

But Ben’s eyes were wild, unfocused, lost in the torrent of his own emotions. Butcher clenched his jaw, knowing he had to do something drastic. With all his strength, he swung a punch, connecting squarely with Ben’s jaw. The force of the blow sent Ben staggering back.

For a moment, everything was still. Ben blinked, the shock of the hit bringing a momentary clarity. His chest still glowed, but the intensity had lessened. He looked at Butcher, confusion and pain evident in his eyes.

“Snap out of it, Soldier Boy!”, Butcher barked, his voice echoing in the night air. “She needs you to be strong, not falling apart!”.

Ben shook his head, trying to shake off the lingering haze. The punch had grounded him, bringing him back to reality.

Three single Tears rolled down Ben’s cheeks, streaking through the grime and blood. It was the first time Butcher had ever seen Ben cry. The sight was both jarring and heartbreaking. For a moment, Butcher struggled to find the right words, his own feelings of helplessness threatening to overwhelm him.

“She… I… Homelander killed my child! We lost our baby”, Ben whispered, his voice raw with anguish.

Butcher took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He placed a firm hand on Ben’s shoulder, forcing him to meet his eyes. “I know, mate. And I know it hurts like hell”, Butcher said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “But she’s still alive. She needs you now more than ever”.

Even though Butcher and Ben didn’t get along very well, in this moment, Butcher told Ben exactly what he needed to hear. The raw honesty in Butcher’s words cut through Ben’s grief, anchoring him to the reality of the situation. Ben needed to get himself together for you, even though the pain he felt was beyond anything he’d ever experienced.

“I know it feels like you’re drowning”, Butcher continued, his voice steady. “But you’re stronger than this. She needs you to be strong, to be there for her”.

Ben nodded, swallowing hard as he tried to push down the overwhelming grief and anger. He wiped at his face, smearing the tears and blood even more. “I can’t lose her”, he whispered, his voice cracking.

“You won’t”, Butcher said firmly. “Not if you stay focused. One step at a time, Soldier Boy. You’ve faced worse and come out the other side. You can do this”.

Ben rubbed his face hard, the pressure intense enough that it would have broken bones if he had been merely human. With a deep breath, he gave Butcher a simple, determined nod before turning and heading back inside.

Inside the room, the harsh lights illuminated your pale, unconscious form. The beeping of the machines monitoring your vitals created a steady rhythm, a reminder of the fragile thread that held you to life. Ben’s heart ached at the sight, but he steeled himself. He needed to be strong for you, for both of you.

Annie looked up as Ben re-entered, her eyes filled with concern. She didn’t say anything, sensing that Ben needed a moment alone with you. She quietly stepped out, leaving the two of you together.

Ben approached your bedside, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of movement. He gently took your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I’m here, Baby”, he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m not going anywhere”.

The room was silent except for the steady beeping of the machines and the faint hum of the hospital. Ben sat down beside you, his grip on your hand firm but gentle. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to center himself, drawing strength from the depth of his love for you.

After a few moments, he opened his eyes and looked at you, his expression filled with determination. “We’re going to get through this”, he said softly. “I promise you. No matter what it takes, we’re going to be okay”.

The weight of his promise settled over him, but he embraced it. He would be there for you, no matter the cost. As he sat by your side, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. You needed him, and he would not let you down.

Hours passed, and the night gave way to the first light of dawn. Ben remained by your side, his eyes never leaving your face. He was exhausted, physically and emotionally, but he refused to let himself rest. He had to be there when you woke up.

Butcher and Annie checked in periodically, offering support and reassurance. But for the most part, they gave Ben the space he needed.

Ben's hand softly rested over your still swollen belly, but there was no heartbeat anymore. His jaw clenched, a wave of anguish washing over him, but he fought to keep his emotions in check. With a trembling breath, he whispered towards your belly, his voice choked with sorrow.

"I'm so sorry", he murmured. "I failed you. I failed to protect you, to keep you safe". Tears welled in his eyes, threatening to spill over, but he blinked them back.

"I promised to keep you both safe", he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I couldn't. I'm so sorry".

The weight of his guilt hung heavy in the air, but he couldn't bring himself to move away from you. He stayed by your side, his hand resting over your belly, a silent vow to never forget the life that had been lost.

Ben's heart shattered at the thought of the loss of his baby. The pain was unbearable, gnawing at him with relentless intensity. He couldn't even begin to imagine how you would react when you woke up and learned the devastating news. The mere thought of your grief tore at his soul, threatening to consume him with its ferocity.

As he sat by your side, his hand still resting over your belly, his heart ached with a profound sense of loss. The weight of his failure weighed heavily on him, the guilt and sorrow threatening to drown him in their depths.

48 hours passed in a haze of grief and exhaustion for Ben. He hadn’t slept, barely eaten, consumed by the weight of his sorrow and the desperate hope that you would wake up. Butcher had to practically drag him out of your room to shower and change, reminding him that you wouldn’t appreciate the smell of blood and dirt when you finally regained consciousness.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Ben felt a faint movement beneath his hand. His heart leaped with hope as he looked down at you, his eyes wide with anticipation. Your fingers twitched ever so slightly, a sign of life returning to your body.

For a moment, Ben couldn’t breathe, the rush of emotion overwhelming him. He leaned closer, his eyes fixed on your face as he waited with bated breath for any further sign of awakening. Time seemed to stand still as he held his breath, willing you to open your eyes and return to him.

As your eyelids fluttered open, revealing the depths of your gaze, Ben's heart swelled with relief.

"Hey, sweetheart", he whispered. "Welcome back".

Your voice, barely above a whisper, trembled as you asked him what had happened. Ben's heart clenched at the sound of your voice, filled with pain and confusion. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself before responding.

"Hey, it's okay", he said softly, his voice soothing. "You were… you were hurt pretty bad. But you're here now, and that's all that matters".

As you tried to sit up, pain shot through your body, causing you to wince and sink back against the pillows. Ben's heart clenched at the sight of your discomfort, and he reached out to gently support you.

"Easy, easy", he murmured, his voice filled with concern. "You've been through a lot. Just take it slow".

He adjusted the pillows behind you, trying to make you more comfortable. His hands were gentle as he hovered nearby, his eyes never leaving your face, silently urging you to take care of yourself.

Your breathing was still uneven as Ben handed you something to drink, his movements careful and attentive.

"I'll go get the doctor", he murmured, already moving to stand up, but you stopped him with a trembling question.

"What about the baby?". Your voice wavered with emotion, your memories of the harrowing encounter with Homelander flooding back.

Ben's jaw clenched, his hands starting to shake slightly as he struggled to find the words. The pain in his eyes was evident as he met your already tear-filled gaze, but he couldn't bring himself to speak.

"Ben… please… don't", you choked on your own voice, the fear and anguish palpable in the air. Tears welled in your eyes, mirroring the ones that filled Ben's.

The tears in Ben's eyes spoke volumes, confirming your worst fears before he even said a word. Your heart shattered into a million pieces as you realized what had happened.

"No", you whispered, the word barely audible as a wave of anguish washed over you. Everything felt numb, the pain so raw it was almost unbearable.

Ben stood there, feeling utterly helpless as he watched you break down before him. Seeing you crying like that, consumed by grief and pain, tore at his heart in a way he couldn't even put into words. He knew he had to pull himself together, be there for you in your time of need.

With deliberate slowness, he sank down beside you, his movements cautious as he pulled you into his arms. You collapsed against him, your tears soaking through his shirt as you cried like you never had before.

He held you close, his arms a shelter against the storm of emotions raging within you. His own tears mingled with yours as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

As you cried against his chest, your sobs echoing in the sterile hospital room, Ben felt a pain unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was a raw, visceral ache that seemed to consume him from the inside out. Every tear that fell from your eyes felt like a dagger in his own heart, each sob tearing at his soul.

The sound of your crying was like a symphony of anguish, a haunting melody that echoed through the empty room. Each choked breath, each muffled sob, was a reminder of the loss you had both endured. It was a sound that Ben would never forget, etched into his memory like a scar.

But even as the pain threatened to overwhelm him, Ben held you tighter, refusing to let go. He knew that he couldn't take away your pain, couldn't undo what had been done. But he could be there for you, hold you close and offer whatever comfort he could in the face of such devastating loss.

As the doctor stepped into the room, followed closely by Butcher and Annie, they quickly assessed the situation and recognized the need for privacy. Sensing the raw emotion between you and Ben, they exchanged somber glances before silently retreating, leaving the two of you alone to grieve in peace.

The doctor's departure went unnoticed by both of you, lost in your own world of pain and sorrow.

In the stillness that followed, there were no words, no gestures—only the quiet rhythm of your breathing and the steady beat of Ben's heart against your own.

Ben gently stroked your back as you continued to sob against his chest. He tried to be strong for you, but when you saw his tears, it was a stark reminder of the depth of his pain. You knew he was hurting just as much as you were, and the thought only made your own grief feel heavier.

You clung to him desperately, seeking solace in his embrace, but the words eluded you. What could you say in the face of such profound loss? Instead, you buried your face against his chest, letting his presence anchor you in the midst of the turmoil.

An hour passed in heavy silence, the weight of grief hanging thick in the air. You and Ben remained locked in each other's embrace, still unable to find the words to express the depth of your pain. Numbness settled over you like a heavy blanket, leaving you feeling hollow and empty.

Finally, the doctor emerged into the room again, accompanied by a nurse. Their presence shattered the stillness, pulling you both back to the present moment. The doctor approached with gentle caution, his expression sympathetic as he spoke.

"I'm sorry to interrupt", he began softly, his voice carrying a note of compassion, "but I really need to check on your vitals now".

You and Ben exchanged a weary glance, both understanding the necessity of the doctor's request yet feeling reluctant to let go of each other, even for a moment. With a heavy sigh, Ben slowly released his hold on you, his touch lingering for a moment longer before reluctantly pulling away.

As the doctor began his examination, you felt a wave of exhaustion wash over you. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the steady rhythm of your heartbeat, the only sound that seemed to cut through the fog of your grief.

Ben hovered nearby, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the turmoil. You could sense his silent support, his unwavering strength a source of solace in the midst of your pain.

After what felt like an eternity, the doctor finished his examination, his expression grave as he studied the results.

The doctor's voice broke through the haze of your thoughts, his words registering dimly in your mind. "Your vitals are stable", he said, his tone gentle yet serious. "But we still need to perform a scraping procedure, as the pregnancy tissue didn't fully pass".

But you were too lost in your own grief to fully comprehend his words. Your mind felt foggy, disconnected from reality as you struggled to process the magnitude of your loss.

Beside you, Ben's stomach churned with a mix of anger and frustration. He clenched his jaw, his fists tightening at his sides as he listened to the doctor's explanation. The injustice of it all weighed heavily on him, fueling the fire of his emotions.

But as he looked at you, lost in your own pain, he knew that his anger could wait. Right now, you needed him more than ever, and he would do whatever it took to support you through this ordeal.

"I'll give you both a moment to process everything", the doctor said softly, before quietly leaving the room.

Tears welled up in your eyes once again. Choking back a sob, you struggled to find your voice amidst the overwhelming flood of emotions.

"I can't do this", you whispered hoarsely, your hand trembling as it found its way to your belly, the physical reminder of the life that had been taken from you far too soon.

Ben bit back his own tears, forcing himself to stay strong for you. He knew he had to be the one you could lean on. Gently, he took your trembling hand in his, his grip firm but tender.

"Hey", he began softly, his voice steady despite the pain in his eyes. "You are the strongest person I know. That's one of the reasons I fell in love with you. I know this hurts like hell, and it feels impossible, but you can do this. You have to. And I’ll be by your side every minute, I promise".

He squeezed your hand, his gaze never leaving your face. "We'll get through this together. I won't let you go through it alone".

You kept crying and sobbing, each breath a painful reminder of the immense loss you felt. Everything had happened so fast, and it still felt like you were trapped in a nightmare, unable to wake up. The reality of the situation was almost too much to bear.

Ben held you close, his arms wrapped securely around you. He whispered soothing words, his voice a steady presence in the midst of your turmoil. "It's okay to cry", he said softly. "It's okay to feel everything you're feeling. I'm here with you, and I'm not going anywhere".

Your sobs eventually began to quiet, the exhaustion of your grief taking its toll. You leaned into Ben, your head resting against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

The doctor and nurse waited patiently outside, giving you the time you needed.

Ben wouldn't leave your side, standing by you with unwavering support. He held your hand tightly, his grip a lifeline in the midst of the pain. As the doctor began the procedure, Ben's super hearing allowed him to hear every tiny movement, every scrape and shift inside your body. The sounds were almost too much to bear, each one feeling like a fresh wound being inflicted on his heart.

His eyes pressed shut, his jaw clenched, trying to keep his own emotions in check. He felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest, the sheer agony of your shared loss almost unbearable.

You felt the same anguish, tears rolling down your cheeks: The physical pain of the procedure was nothing compared to the emotional torment you were enduring. Every scrape felt like a reminder of the life you had lost, of the future that had been cruelly snatched away from you.

The procedure felt like it lasted an eternity, but eventually, the doctor finished, his movements careful and precise. He glanced up, his expression one of deep sympathy. "It's over", he said gently. "You did very well".

Ben squeezed your hand, his eyes filled with both relief and sorrow. "You did it", he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "It's over now".

After everything was done, Ben sat on your hospital bed, holding you close. Your upper body was curled on his lap, and you kept crying, the overwhelming grief consuming you. Losing your baby was the worst thing that had ever happened to you, but knowing it was Ben’s baby made it hurt even more.

You remembered the moment you told him you were going to keep the baby. You had never seen him so happy. The light in his eyes, the pure joy on his face—it was a dream he had never dared to dream, a wish he had never thought possible.

As Ben continued to stroke your back, his gaze fixed on the emptiness before him, a heavy silence settled over the room. The weight of your shared grief hung between you.

There was nothing Ben could say that would ease your pain, nothing he could do to erase the ache in his own heart. All he could do was hold you close.

For you, the grief was overwhelming, swallowing you whole until you felt like you were drowning in a sea of tears and sorrow.

In the following 24 hours, you were monitored closely by the medical staff to ensure you were fully healed from the procedure. Throughout it all, Ben never left your side. But despite the hours spent together, the two of you didn't exchange a single word.

The silence between you felt heavy, weighted down by the weight of your shared sorrow. Every glance, every touch carried with it the weight of unspoken words, the ache of loss palpable in the air.

Butcher and Annie sat in the meeting room, discussing plans with the construction team to rebuild the lobby and repair the damage of the tower.

The meeting was tense, the air heavy with the weight of recent events. Butcher and Annie conferred with the construction team, discussing timelines, budgets, and logistics for the rebuilding efforts. It was a daunting task, but one they were determined to see through to completion.

As the meeting drew to a close, Butcher and Annie exchanged a weary glance. With a nod of agreement, they rose from the table.

Annie leaned against the wall of Butcher's office, her arms crossed tightly. She glanced at Butcher, a furrow forming between her brows. "What do you think will happen now?", she asked, her voice low with concern. "Do you think Soldier Boy will be able to handle his emotions? Will he come back to lead?".

Butcher sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. "Bloody hell, Annie, I don't know", he admitted gruffly. "The lad's been through a lot. Losing a kid… it's enough to drive anyone mad".

Annie nodded in agreement, her expression somber. "Yeah, I know. And as much as we may not be his biggest fans, we have to admit he's changed a bit for the better", she conceded. "And no one deserves to go through what he's going through right now".

Butcher grunted in reluctant agreement, the weight of the situation settling heavily on his shoulders. "Aye, you're right", he muttered. "We'll just have to wait and see what happens. In the meantime, we've got our own mess to clean up".

Butcher rubbed his beard thoughtfully, his brow furrowed in concern. "Poor lass", he mumbled, his voice low with empathy. "She's probably a wreck right now".

Annie nodded, her expression mirroring Butcher's concern. "Yeah", she agreed softly. "I can't even imagine what she's going through".

Annie furrowed her brows, a hint of worry crossing her features. "Butcher, no one can know about the pregnancy", she reminded him firmly.

Butcher rolled his eyes, a grumble escaping him as he leaned back in his chair. "I'm not about to go broadcasting it to the bloody world". He paused for a moment. "Besides, I've known since the first time (Y/N) went pale in that meeting", he admitted. "Heard that little second heartbeat. Still didn't tell anyone".

Annie raised an eyebrow, surprised by Butcher's revelation. "You did?", she asked, a mixture of curiosity and disbelief in her voice.

Butcher nodded, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "Aye", he confirmed. "Couldn't bring myself to ruin their moment".

"Butcher, why didn't you say something?", Annie asked, her tone a mix of concern and curiosity.

Butcher shrugged. "Thought maybe having a kid, starting a family, would finally get Soldier Boy to step back and settle down", he explained, his voice tinged with resignation. "Thought maybe then, I could take the lead".

Annie nodded, understanding dawning on her face. "And now?", she asked softly, her gaze searching Butcher's face for answers.

"Now", Butcher replied with a sigh, "we wait and see what Soldier Boy decides to do next".

Back home, Ben walked slowly behind you, his every step mirroring your hesitation. He watched you closely, waiting for any signal of where you wanted to go or what you needed. The house felt emptier than ever, the silence almost unbearable.

You looked around a little lost, your eyes darting from room to room. The weight of recent events hung heavily in the air, making even the simplest decisions seem monumental. Eventually, you gravitated toward the kitchen.

Ben followed, his heart aching as he watched your movements. He didn't say anything, unsure of what words could possibly provide comfort. Instead, he stayed close, ready to support you in any way you needed.

Once in the kitchen, you hesitated by the counter, your hands trembling slightly as you reached for a glass. Ben stepped forward, gently taking it from you and filling it with water. He handed it to you with a look of quiet concern.

"Take your time", he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm here".

Ben’s words buzzed through you, each syllable a reminder of the pain you were trying to process. You didn’t even know why, but you didn’t want to hear his voice, didn’t want to hear anything. With a heavy sigh, you set the glass of water aside and reached for one of his whiskeys from the cabinet.

Ben watched silently as you grabbed the bottle, his heart aching at the sight. He knew you were struggling, but seeing you turn to alcohol for solace made the situation feel even more desperate. You took a big sip straight from the bottle, the burn of the whiskey a stark contrast to the numbness you felt inside.

For a moment, Ben considered saying something, but he held back. He knew you needed time to process everything, to find your own way through the grief. Instead, he stepped back, giving you space while still staying close enough to support you if you needed him.

You took another sip, the warmth of the whiskey spreading through your chest, momentarily dulling the ache. The silence in the kitchen was heavy, filled with unspoken words and shared sorrow. Ben leaned against the counter, his eyes never leaving you, silently offering his presence as a lifeline in your sea of pain.

Ben crossed his arms over his chest, watching as you took one sip after another. His heart broke with each gulp, but he remained silent, knowing that pushing you might only drive you further away.

He wanted to reach out, to pull you into his arms and reassure you that you weren’t alone in this, but he didn’t know how. Every time he opened his mouth to speak, the words caught in his throat. Instead, he watched, hoping that his presence was enough for now.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Ben took a tentative step forward. “You don’t have to go through this alone”, he said softly. “I’m here. Always”.

You paused, the bottle halfway to your lips, and glanced at him. For a moment, you saw the depth of his pain mirrored in his eyes, and it resonated with your own. The whiskey had dulled the edge of your grief, but it couldn’t erase it.

“Ben, I…”, you started, your voice cracking.

He uncrossed his arms and took another step closer. “C’mere”, he mumbled.

You set the bottle down, your hands trembling slightly. The moment you let go of the bottle, Ben stepped closer and pulled you into a tight hug. As soon as his arms wrapped around you, the floodgates opened, and you began to cry again, the sobs wracking your body.

Ben held you tightly, his own eyes welling up as he felt your pain wash over him. He stroked your back gently, trying to offer some semblance of comfort amidst the storm of emotions. "I'm here", he whispered, his voice thick with his own grief. "I'm right here".

You buried your face in his chest, clinging to him as if he were the only thing keeping you grounded. Each tear felt like a release, but also a reminder of the immense loss you both were enduring.

Minutes passed, or maybe it was hours—time seemed to blur in the intensity of your sorrow. Finally, your sobs began to quiet, and your breathing evened out, though the ache in your heart remained.

Feeling weak and exhausted from all the crying, you allowed Ben to carry you upstairs. He gently set you down on the edge of the bed, your limbs feeling as heavy as your heart, and you couldn't muster the energy to move. Ben knelt down in front of you, carefully pulling off your shoes.

His touch was gentle, and despite the exhaustion, you found comfort in the small act of care. Ben's hands lingered on your feet for a moment before he looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of sorrow and determination.

"Let's get you more comfortable", he said softly, his voice soothing despite the gravity of the situation.

You nodded weakly, too drained to argue or protest. Ben stood up and helped you out of your clothes, replacing them with a soft, oversized shirt. Every movement felt like it took immense effort, and you leaned heavily on him for support.

Once you were changed, Ben guided you under the covers, tucking you in with a tenderness that belied his usual rough exterior. He then climbed into bed beside you, pulling you close once again.

"You don't have to do anything right now", Ben whispered, his lips close to your ear. "Just rest".

You nestled closer to him, your body pressed against his as you sought the comfort only he could provide. The steady rise and fall of his chest, the familiar scent of him, all worked to slowly lull you into a state of half-awareness.

Ben's hand continued to stroke your back, his touch a constant reminder of his presence.

Eventually, you fell into a deep, exhausted sleep, your body finally succumbing to the overwhelming fatigue. Ben, however, couldn’t find the same respite. His eyes remained open, staring at the ceiling as his mind churned with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

Once he was certain you were deeply asleep, he carefully slipped out of the bed, doing his best not to disturb you. He changed into a comfortable hoodie and sweatpants. Quietly, he made his way downstairs.

In the kitchen, he reached for the whiskey bottle you had left on the counter earlier. The amber liquid sloshed inside as he poured himself a generous amount, his hands shaking slightly. He stared at the glass for a moment, the reflections of the dim kitchen light dancing on the surface.

With a deep sigh, Ben took a long, slow sip, the burn of the alcohol offering a momentary distraction from the pain gnawing at his insides. He leaned against the counter, the glass cradled in his hands as he tried to process everything that had happened.

The silence of the house felt oppressive, amplifying the loneliness and despair that clung to him. He took another sip, the whiskey doing little to numb the ache in his heart. Memories of the past few days flashed through his mind: the joy of expecting his child, the devastation of the loss, and the unbearable sight of you in such deep sorrow.

Ben set the glass down, his grip tightening around it as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. He was supposed to be the strong one, the protector, yet here he was, feeling completely helpless. The weight of his own grief, coupled with the need to be there for you, threatened to crush him.

He finished the whiskey in a few more gulps, the warmth spreading through his chest, though it did little to ease the cold emptiness inside. Ben poured himself another glass, his mind racing as he tried to figure out how to move forward. How could you both heal from such a loss? How could he be the support you needed when he felt so broken himself?

Taking one last sip, Ben set the glass aside and took a deep breath. He turned off the kitchen light and made his way back upstairs, the promise he had made to himself echoing in his mind. He slipped back into bed beside you, his arm wrapping around you protectively as he closed his eyes, trying to find some semblance of peace in the quiet of the night.

———————————

A/N: There it fucking is ._. Heartbreak included. I´m sooo sorry...but, please let me know what you think.🥰

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Part 2

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Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @star-yawnznn @me1501 @CheyNovaK @faephoria @hobby27 @baby19sthings

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Sweeter Than Revenge Part 2

Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader, Scott's Sister!reader Summary: Setting your plan in motion, you flaunt your new "relationship" in Scott's face. However, you didn't think through what happens next as you find yourself in the middle of nowhere alone with Tyler. Word Count: 4401 TW: Family Conflict, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Tears, Brief Mention of Reader's Clothes, Reader's Past/Childhood Explained in Detail, Language Notes: A massive thank you to @blue-aconite and @green-socks for reading this over for me and for all the constant support! And to @mayhem24-7forever for always answering my late-night panicked messages

Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)

Series Masterlist

Later that night at the motel Tyler had given you directions to, you were just finishing applying a fresh coat of lip gloss when you heard the hoard of storm chasers and their groupies pull up outside. 

Showtime.

Stepping back to look at yourself in the mirror, you wondered if you might be taking this a bit too far. Your sleeveless top had a deeply plunging neckline, the practically sheer material hugging every curve, while your jeans were cut so short even you felt slightly uncomfortable with how much they revealed from behind. It was far from your usual attire and you had only packed it on a last-minute whim.

This outfit would have you out of your comfort zone on the best of days when you were only hanging out with friends, but tonight you were wearing it to meet up with a guy you didn’t even really know. It was very possible that Tyler was a total perv planning on taking advantage of you the moment you climbed into his truck. Yet even as that thought crossed your mind, you dismissed it. Though you had spent less than an hour with him as the two of you discussed your plan for revenge, you didn’t think he was that kind of guy. In fact, he had only continued to impress you with how respectful and down-to-earth he seemed, contrary to your original assumptions. 

But what did you know? Hell, you already tried to figure him out once and were way off the mark. It seemed like the only way to know for certain was to trust your gut and find out for yourself.

You took one final look at yourself, grabbed your purse off the bed, and headed towards the door.

Stepping out of your motel room and peering over the railing to the ground below, you could see the Storm PAR vehicles clustered at the end near the stairs while Tyler’s truck was parked almost directly below you. That meant you would have to walk past the group of Storm PAR guys filing out of their vehicles in order to reach Tyler.

Perfect. You couldn’t have planned that better if you had tried.

Making it to the end of the walkway, you took a deep breath, held your head up high, and arranged your face into what you hoped looked like a confident—slightly flirty—facade, and headed downstairs. You paused for a second at the bottom to straighten your top and run a hand over your hair, but then you strutted forward towards the red Dodge.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw several members of the Storm PAR team stop in their tracks as they noticed you. One nudged the guy next to him and a few pointed in your direction. Only Javi seemed uneasy as he caught sight of you. His eyes quickly darted from you to one of the trucks labeled “Scarecrow” and then back to you before he turned, running his hand through his hair with a big sigh. 

Then Scott climbed out of Scarecrow.

At first, he didn’t notice you. He was looking at a tablet with his head down, but as you got closer and the murmuring got louder, he glanced up to see what the commotion was about. As he did a double-take, you watched the gum drop from his mouth and any doubts you had about this plan instantly evaporated. No longer was the smile on your face forced or the swagger in your step manufactured. Holding your head slightly higher, you let this fresh rush of adrenaline and excitement spurn you forward. 

As you reached the front of Scarecrow, Scott stepped out in front of you, blocking your way. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“What do you care?” you scoffed, placing one hand on your hip, cocking it slightly. “You told me to leave you and Storm PAR alone so I’m respecting your wishes. But since I had planned on staying for the next two weeks, I found someone else who’s interested in having me around.” You looked over your shoulder at the rest of the Storm PAR team and wiggled your fingers in their direction. “You fellas have a good night. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

You pushed past Scott, not so gently shouldering him in the chest, and continued on your way. The rest of Scott’s team snickered and “ooo”ed behind you but based on how they suddenly stopped, you guessed Scott gave them one of his death glares. 

Sashaying the rest of the way to where Tyler was leaning over the side of his truck, rummaging through a toolbox in the bed, you place one hand on his bicep. Giving it a light squeeze, you asked, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, just let me—” Tyler lifted his head and his eyes grew wide as he saw what you were wearing. But then he blinked a few times and cleared his throat. “Um, just let me finish putting these away and we’ll be all set.”

“Sounds good.” You leaned against his truck, discreetly glancing back at the Storm PAR team. Scott was staring daggers in your direction but you just pretended to examine your nails like you hadn’t noticed.

A moment later, Tyler slammed the toolbox closed and straightened up. “Done.” Grabbing his hat and pulling it low over his brow, he stepped back to have a better look at you. Letting out a low whistle, he said, “Damn, sweetheart. If I had known you would come down looking like that, I’d have dressed up for the occasion.” He wrapped his arm around your waist, tugging you flush against his side. “You look gorgeous.” 

His voice was a little louder than necessary and you know it’s all for your brother’s benefit. Yet, between his words and the feeling of his firm chest beneath his flannel shirt, you couldn’t stop the heat from rushing to your face. A small part of you secretly hoped it wasn’t all for show and he actually meant it.

You flashed him your most flirtatious smile and cooed loudly, “Thank you. But you don’t need to change a thing. You look amazing.” 

And it was true. 

Not every man pulled off the cowboy look without seeming like he was trying too hard or was going to a costume party. But Tyler must have been born in boots and a cowboy hat because you couldn’t imagine him any other way. His jeans were comfortably worn and seemed molded to his frame from constant use. His flannel long-sleeved button-down was tucked into his jeans, displaying the enormous belt buckle with “Tornado Wrangler” engraved on it. Topped off with his white cowboy hat and dark leather boots, he looked like he had just stepped off the cover of a Western romance novel. 

The heat in your face grew stronger.

Tyler squeezed you closer as he asked, “You ready to go?” You nodded so he led you over and opened the passenger door. Holding out his hand, he helped you climb in before slamming the door shut. Watching out the window as he turned around, you noticed all the Storm PAR guys staring at him. Tyler must have noticed too because he touched the brim of his hat and nodded in their direction. “Fellas…..Scott.” 

Then he walked to the driver’s side and climbed in. The truck rumbled to life, the vibrations of the powerful engine reverberating throughout your body. Tyler pulled out of the parking lot and onto the dark, empty highway before reaching up and turning on the radio. Low country music filled the quiet cab and he began to hum along, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. You weren’t sure where he was headed or if he even had a destination in mind.

Now that you had properly rubbed your new companion in Scott’s face, you realized you hadn’t thought about what happened next. You were kind of in the middle of nowhere with just a few scattered diners and gas stations within a reasonable distance, and it occurred to you that you had no idea if Tyler already had plans tonight before you barged into his life. 

Shifting slightly in your seat, you spoke up. “Um, thanks again for doing this. If you wanna just drop me off at the nearest restaurant and come pick me up later, that’s fine. And take as long as you want. I need to be gone long enough for Scotty to really sit and stew in it.”

Tyler stopped humming to glance over at you for a second and then looked back at the road. “Did you really think I’d just dump you somewhere and take off?”

You blinked. That was exactly what you thought he might do. “Oh…I mean, you’re already doing me this huge favor. I don’t need to take up more of your time than necessary.”

“Sweetheart, I told you, you are doing me a favor by letting me mess with your brother. All those Storm PAR snobs are a pain in my ass, but deep down they seem like alright guys…. except for your brother. He’s the worst kind of hypocrite, and if all I have to do to rile him up is take a beautiful woman out to dinner, my life is going pretty good.”

You turned and looked out the window so Tyler couldn’t see the effect his words had on you. You still couldn’t tell if he actually meant any of the nice things he said about you, if it was all part of the ruse, or if he was the kind of guy who said those things to everyone, But whatever the reason, it was nice to hear.

Once you had composed yourself, you sat up a little straighter, turned back to him, and said, “Okay, but I’m buying dinner. Wherever you want, wherever you want. It’s the least I can do for you helping me out.”

Tyler smiled, his bright teeth shining in the darkness. “Alright, sweetheart. We’ve got a deal. I’ll take you to my favorite spot.”

Thirty minutes later you were sitting next to Tyler on the back of his truck, both of you holding burgers and iced teas as your legs dangled over the end of the tailgate. When he had first stopped for takeout before driving out into a random empty field, you had your doubts. However, you had promised to let him pick so you sat quietly as he stashed his cowboy hat on the dashboard before jumping out of the truck and jogging around to open your door. And as he had led you around to the back of the truck and your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you understood why he had brought the two of you here.

Taking another bite of your burger, you looked up at the clear sky, still in awe of the sheer number of stars that danced and sparkled above you. Growing up where you had, you always thought the night sky was black or maybe dark blue, but seeing it now in the middle of nowhere, far away from any man-made light, you realized that it was in fact a swirling mix of blacks, blues, purples, greens, and yellows surrounding millions of brilliant stars. It was stunning to see.

“So,” you asked around your mouthful of burger, “this is your favorite spot, huh? I can see the appeal.”

Tyler smiled, leaning against the side of the truck bed. “Well, it doesn’t have to be this spot specifically, but yeah. There’s something about the night sky a few hours after a storm has gone through that just can’t be beat.”

“Wait, a storm went through here today?” You looked around. It was hard to tell now in the dark, but thinking back to before Tyler had turned the truck headlights off, you did remember noticing a jagged path off to your right where the grass had been torn up. However, you hadn’t thought much about it at the time.

“Yep. We were out here right before heading to the diner where you found me. It was a pretty big one too. We got some great footage.”

“Guess I could look it up on YouTube, huh, Mr. Tornado Wrangler,” you teased, grabbing a fry from the bag next to you and tossing it at him, which he dove for and somehow caught in his mouth.

Chewing it, he grinned, “I didn’t know you knew about that.”

You shrugged. “I’ve watched a few videos. Scotty wouldn’t stop bitching about you guys and how unprofessional you were so I had to see for myself. Personally, I like your content. It’s fun.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it. Wouldn’t want to find out I was going out with someone who hates what I do. Guess I owe your brother a thanks for introducing you to us…and indirectly to me.”

Just like when he had complimented your appearance, you felt a warm glow inside when he said you were going out (even though you knew that’s not what he meant…or at least, you didn’t think that’s what he meant). 

Quick to change the subject, you asked something that had been on your mind for a while. “Speaking of my brother, you said earlier that Scott was the worst kind of hypocrite…what did you mean by that?”

Hesitating, he sighed, “I don’t really know your brother—not personally—so I’m not sure how much I should say…”

You laughed. “If you’re afraid of saying something about him that might offend me, don’t. I know Scotty and I’m sure whatever it is, it's warranted.”

“Well, when you put it like that...” Tyler set his drink on the tailgate next to his leg. “I don’t know how much you know about Storm PAR but they aren’t the humanitarian group of scientists trying to help the world that they try to make themselves seem like. I haven’t figured out all the details yet but I know they’re doing some backdoor business with some not-so-great people. Yet, meanwhile, your brother looks down his nose at us Wranglers, calling us sell-outs and fame-seekers. And yeah, I do use my platform to make money but we put as much of it as we can back into these communities affected by the storms. We try to do what we can to help—he can’t say the same.”

You considered what Tyler said for a moment before nodding. “Yeah…somehow that doesn’t surprise me. Scotty’s always kind of seen the world in 1s and 0s, as an equation only he can solve. But he doesn’t really care what happens with that solution or how it might affect the people involved once he’s found it. As long as he gets the credit and compensation, he’s happy. So if the only way Storm PAR has been able to get funding is by doing something shady, I don’t doubt for a second he would do it.”

“Damn. He seems worse than I thought.” Tyler looked out into the darkness, the two of you sitting in silence for a moment. Then he asked, “If your brother’s so bad, why did you come all this way to see him?”

“He’s still my brother and I love him.” Under your breath, you added, “Even if he does make it hard to like him most of the time.”

“I wouldn’t know what that’s like—never had any brothers or sisters—and the family I do have has always been really close and supportive. But it seems to me you shouldn’t have to love someone just because you’re related. Just like you don’t have to be related to love someone like family. ”

“I know, but…it’s complicated—or maybe it’s not, I don’t know.” You pulled your knees up into your chest and rested your chin on them, sighing as you wished you had never brought Scott up in the first place.

“You wanna tell me about it?”

“What?” You tilted your head sharply to look at Tyler, your brow furrowed. “You really want to hear me moan about my childhood and how it fucked up my relationship with my brother?”

Tyler shrugged. “I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t wanna, but I have been a little curious. Like, why is he treating you like shit and why are you still trying to get his attention despite that?”

“I’m not trying to…” The words felt so hollow in your mouth you trailed off instead of continuing to deny what he said.

“Tonight—us being out here together—I can see it’s not only about revenge. Maybe you don’t even realize it, but I saw the way you looked at him in the parking lot while you were waiting for me.” Tyler poked you gently with the toe of his boot. “You’re still holding out hope he’ll change his mind and ask you to join him and his team. Why?”

“You really want to know?” He nodded, staring at you patiently. Popping a french fry into your mouth, you contemplated where to start your story. Then, with a sigh, you began, “Of course, I don’t remember any of this, but I’ve heard the story enough times: When my mom was pregnant with me, there were some complications and I was born a few months early. I had to stay in the ICU for a long time and, for a while, they weren’t sure if I was going to make it. Obviously—” You held your hand in front of yourself as if to say “ta-da”. Dropping it with a thump onto the bed of the truck, you continued. “My entire life my parents referred to me as ‘their little miracle’ or ‘their angel on Earth’ because they had been so sure they were going to lose me but I didn’t realize until I left home how much my almost dying actually fucked up their relationship with both me and Scotty.”

“What do you mean?”

“In their eyes, I was this precious little gift that was almost taken from them, but at the same time, there was Scotty. Their other kid. Nothing had happened to change how they saw him. I mean, don’t get me wrong, we have great parents who love us both deeply but they treated us very differently.” 

“How so?” Tyler asked, tilting his head slightly. 

You shifted on the hard metal. It felt a little strange spilling your guts to this random guy you had only met earlier that day, but what felt even more bizarre was how invested and engaged he seemed in what you were saying. He stared at you as if you had his complete attention, his expression curious yet encouraging, silently urging you to continue. 

Clearing your throat, you said, “Scotty was expected to get perfect grades and place first on the track team and help around the house and have an after-school job on top of all of his advanced classes and pay for all his own things. I, on the other hand, was given a car for my fifteenth birthday—about a week after I was nearly expelled from school for multiple counts of cheating and truancy. I couldn’t even have a learner’s permit at that time! My parents gave me literally anything I asked for and let me do whatever I wanted no matter how much I screwed up all while riding Scotty’s ass to ensure he was perfect. In their eyes, he could do no right and I could do no wrong…and I did a lot of wrong.” 

“But how your parents treated either of you wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t change that.”

You gave a half-hearted shrug. “Maybe. But I didn’t have to take full advantage of it either. Once I realized I could do whatever I wanted without consequences, I ran wild with it. I partied, went on extravagant trips with my friends that my parents paid for, ignored my curfew, brought boys home with me to spend the night right down the hall from my parents, almost flunked out of school. I know it must sound so stupid but while it was happening…” 

Shaking your head, you stared down at your hands, tears beginning to blur your vision. “I was so absorbed in my life, I didn’t see how differently Scott was being treated or what it was doing to him. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Scotty is still Scotty, even back then. He looks out for himself before anyone else and the only emotions he really knows how to convey are pissed off or sarcastic. Yet I can’t help but wonder if he’s only like that because of how unfair things were.”

You paused for a moment to wipe your eyes and collect yourself, then cleared your throat before continuing. “It wasn’t until I moved away to college and got some distance from my parents that I looked back and realized how messed up it all was. And I changed. I stopped asking them for anything, I got a job and worked my ass off to pay for school, I began aceing all of my classes…but I still haven’t been able to make it up to Scotty. I was hoping this trip would be that chance. That I could finally show him I’ve grown and changed. That I understand why he may be hurt and try to heal those wounds. But he wouldn’t even hear me out.” 

You scoffed bitterly, burying your face in your hand. “So to show him how much I’ve matured, I came up with this childish plan to throw you in his face. Once again, I thought I could just get what I wanted without thinking about how it might affect my brother or what he would want.” Letting out a deep sigh, you collapsed back into the bed of the truck, staring at the stars dancing high above you. “I guess deep down I’m still that spoiled, self-centered brat I’ve always been.”

The truck jostled beneath you and, a second later, Tyler was lying down too, his face directly across from yours. Without breaking eye contact, he reached out and took your hand. “I might have only just met you, but the girl I’ve seen isn’t anything like the one you described growing up. And if that was how you used to be, you should be proud of how much work you’ve done to become this new version of yourself. Change is one of the hardest things a person can do. It's not an overnight process and we all backslide from time to time. So, yeah, maybe us going out just because you knew it would infuriate your brother isn’t the most mature thing you could have done—” you snorted and Tyler smiled before reaching over to brush a tear off your cheek, his fingers making your skin tingle as they swept across it “—but Scott deserves some blame in this too. Maybe it wasn’t fair your parents treated you both differently, but that doesn’t give him the right to behave the way he did today. He’s a grown-ass adult and should have acted like it instead of throwing a hissy fit when he saw you. So you need to stop blaming yourself for his actions.”

“Why are you being so kind to me?” you muttered, a few more tears slipping down your face. “You don’t even know me.”

“I think I’m beginning to.”

“And?” You tried to chuckle but it came out sounding more like a sniffle. There was no telling what Tyler thought when he looked at you right now—face stained with tears, nose running, eyes bloodshot and watery. You were so embarrassed you had let yourself devolve into such a complete mess in front of him and you were sure he was regretting ever meeting you. “You like what you see?”

Surprisingly, instead of retreating, his hands reached out and cupped your face, his fingers stroking soft circles across your cheeks as he wiped more tears away. “More and more by the minute.”

That broke you.

Whatever composure you had been managing to cling to shattered, and you fell apart. It wasn’t just his words that did it, it was the complete sincerity in his voice that you felt down to your soul. He wasn’t just trying to comfort you or make things better. He had listened intently to every word you said, heard about the side of yourself you tried so hard to forget, and still saw something he liked. Something he said you should be proud of.

Until that moment, you hadn’t realized how much you had needed to hear those words. Your parents never saw themselves as treating you and Scott differently so they couldn’t understand why you wanted to become independent of them or see all the progress you had made while making that happen. And Scott was never around so he hadn’t seen how hard you had worked either. Maybe that was what this trip was really about after all. Maybe, on some level, you had needed Scott to tell you he was proud of who you had become. But he hadn’t even tried to see it. Yet Tyler—this man you had met only hours earlier—had given you all the time and attention you needed to show him how far you had come and he was proud of it. 

For a moment, you cried, laying alone on your side of the truck bed under the Oklahoma night sky. But then, you heard Tyler whisper, “Come here, sweetheart” and felt him gently pulling you towards him. 

Once he had closed the distance between you, he positioned you so your head was resting on his shoulder, one of his arms nestled underneath you while the other held your hand, his thumb circling the back of your hand just as it had your cheek seconds before. He smelled earthy yet clean, almost like that brief moment just before a rainstorm. It was so perfectly him, that you couldn’t help but smile through your tears. 

As you settled against him, you felt his lips ghost briefly against your temple before he rested his chin on the top of your head. And, laying here in this stranger’s arms, the sound of the wind drifting over the plain blending with the beat of his heart against your ear, you had never felt more safe or more seen in your life.

Part 3 coming 8/26!