#Visitor Pass Format

[d-emeter]

The world has gone to hell, but you've found your own paradise (or: apocalypse au with task force 141) — plus-size!fem!reader x poly!141

CW: zombie apocalypse (but no real zombies mentioned lol), allusion to smut but doesn't actually happen yet, soap being a horny bastard, implied age-gap?

HEAVILY based on the bill and frank storyline from the last of us but can be read as a generic zombie apocalypse so no worries if you haven't seen/played tlou! Also different format? Is this something?

Captain John Price who, over the years, has become a bit of a survivalist nut — a prepper, if you will.

Sure, his sergeants make fun of him for it sometimes, but he more than anyone knows the shit that plays behind the scenes, the things governments keep hidden, the threats that loom every damn day — so he'd rather be safe than sorry when the world inevitably goes to shit. He's almost smug about it when it does (he hadn't calculated in the zombie aspect of it all, but still)

Unfortunately for him, however, he and the rest of 141 are deployed when outbreak day comes around. More and more cities are bombed by the hour, the population dwindling by the second, and in the week that follows he and the boys are amongst those assigned to evacuate the smaller towns and villages and escort the citizens to quarantine zones — that is, until the QZ's are full and they're under direct order to execute those that didn't make it in.

Now, Price's moral compass has been skewed for some time now. He's done some stuff during his years serving — man or woman, guilty or innocent, it hadn't mattered to him then. It doesn't now, either.

What does him in is the tear that rolls down Soap's cheek when Price shoots the mother and child his sergeant couldn't bring himself to ("Aren't these the people we're 'posed tae protect, cap?")

He convinces his task force to desert that very night (they'd been hesitant, but in the end, they'd follow their captain to hell and back). They gather as many weapons, ammo and MRE's as they can get away with without being caught, and they're off into the night.

Price brings them to his home — a big, old house inherited from his grandparents somewhere in a small, sleepy village. He had spent the better part of his time on leave preparing the house to be self-sufficient should the need arise: generators on solar and wind power, water filters, a chicken coop and a garden set up in the backyard (that, and enough weapons to supply a small army in the garage)

They wait until this village gets evacuated, too, so they can claim it for themselves before raiders come around. They fence off a section of the town, set up traps and cameras, anything to ensure no unwanted visitors can enter, infected or not.

It's their own form of paradise, in a way. (the house has enough bedrooms to give them all their own — they end up in eachother's more often than not)

One day, you fall into their lives — literally. You've fallen into one of their traps, a literal hidden hole in the ground, and within a few minutes you hear the creak of a gate, multiple sets of feet and the unmistakable sound of a gun being loaded ("I'm not infected!" You yell from your hole before they can lay eyes on you, certain they'd shoot you on sight if you didn't)

The first thing you see is the barrel of the gun leering over the edge, before you see its owner — a man with a beard and the most intense eyes you've ever seen. He keeps his gun pointed at you while he makes you recite the alphabet, forwards then backwards, all with your hands held before you to ensure you weren't twitching. You pass his test, it seems, and a ladder is lowered into the hole.

Once you're back on the surface, you see it's not just the man with the beard — there's four of them in total, each looking more terrifying than the last, all muscle and bulk and having the ability to snap you like a twig should they feel the need. There are still guns pointed at you as you explain your situation and simultaneously beg for your life — you were with a group travelling to the nearest QZ, you're the only one left now ("Please, I didn't mean- Please don't hurt me, I'll be out of your hair before you know it — I won't tell anyone about this place! I haven't eaten in three days-")

John and Simon were hesitant at first, but their sergeants manage to convince them to let you inside, offer you some food before sending you on your way again (Soap had been frothing at the mouth a little the moment he had laid eyes on you — sure, they had kept eachother... satisfied, but "Cap, when's the last time any o' us felt the touch o' a lass? 'N such a pretty one at that..." and Price knows he can't deny them when Gaz leans over to whisper how prettily you had begged for your safety, surely it'd do no harm?)

Your eyes widen a little when the scary man with the beard tells you to come with them — your hunger ends up winning the battle with your brain as it tries to convince you that following four big male strangers into their fenced home is not a good plan.

You expected a dented can of beans and maybe a cup of water, so you're definitely more than a little surprised when they usher you into a bedroom with an ensuite, telling you to go take a shower (Soap wanted to follow you into the bathroom, mumbling something about wanting to double check for any bite marks. Ghost had to hold him back by his shirt)

You nearly cry when you feel the stream of hot water on your skin, and feel like you're in some sort of fever dream when you see the clean clothes laid out on the bed for you — granted, they're men's clothes, but anything is better than the rags you had on before.

You start to wonder if maybe you died and are in some sort of weird state between worlds when you come back downstairs to a table that's fully decked out and beautifully presented plates of food.

All of them turn to you immediately and you have to do your best not to falter under their stares (you don't notice the flustered little cough Price lets out at the sight of such a pretty creature in his shirt — god, maybe Johnny was right, it had been a while since he's had a woman, and such a young, plush one at that)

One of them — the one with the darker skin and the prettiest face you've seen in months — is the first to jump into action, hand on your lower back as he ushers you into a chair.

You're convinced you're dead when you bring the first bite to your lips — God, that's good. (Johnny nearly chokes on his food at the small moan you let out. Simon remains stoic, but damn him if he didn't feel a spark of heat in his gut at the sound)

The men start introducing themselves while you're shoveling food into your mouth. The man with the beard — John, you now know — explains that they're all ex-military. Through bites of food, you do your best to introduce yourself as well. You tell them your story, they tell you theirs (well, Johnny and Gaz do, mainly. The one called Simon still hasn't really said a word to you, and you can tell John is a little paranoid about sharing too much information with a stranger)

As the night progresses, there's a shift in the air. Kyle leans in a little too close while brushing a crumb away from your lip, and John lingers behind you a little too long as he refills your glass (you pretend not to notice the sound of his deep inhale as he leans over you).

John insists you don't have to help with the dishes, so you wander into the living room and are immediately intrigued by the piano standing there. Johnny joins you on the bench, thigh pressed against yours as you play with the keys. Simon — or 'Ghost', as you noticed the others called him sometimes — leans over you from behind, and your breathing nearly stops (Simon knows he's too close, but so what if he wants you to accidentally brush against his abdomen?)

Once it's all said and done, you try not to let your disappointment show as you prepare to leave. Much to your surprise, it's Simon that grunts something to you, speaking the first words he's said that night. ("Stay. F'r the night. 'S not safe out there.")

John keeps a heavy hand on your shoulder as he leads you back to the bedroom you were in earlier. It's his, he tells you, but he can stay with one of the others. ("Are you- Are you sure? I can take a couch, or-" "'M sure, love, good night's sleep 'll do you good. Give me a yell if y'need somethin', yeah?")

With that, he leaves you to it, shutting the door behind him. Fuck, that bed does look inviting, and you can almost hear your vertebrae begging for a soft mattress. As you get ready for bed, a thought enters your mind. It had... been a while.

Is what you're about to do a stupid decision? Maybe, but you figured if these men had wanted to hurt you they would've done it already, and you'd be lying if you said that all their touches and affection weren't having an effect on your panties.

You yell out their names from the room, and the four of them are there within a second, though they all falter at the door as they take in the sight before them — you're sitting in the bed, covers pulled up so the only thing visible are your bare shoulders and arms, and it's immediately clear what your intentions are.

Soap, once again, has to be held back by the scruff to prevent him from pouncing on you immediately. John, instead, is the first one to actually enter the room, sitting down on the bed and carefully bringing his hand to caress your cheek while asking if you're sure about this (he'd rather not admit the way he shuddered a bit when he made contact with the soft skin of your face)

Your answer is immediate, you've made up your mind — on one condition ("I'm not... a whore, or anything. I don't sleep with people for food or shelter or anything, just- if we're doing this... I'm staying. For a while.")

Simon nearly laughs at this — funny how you think they would have let you leave otherwise.

[petitemortality]

FYF 11: Passing Place (18+)

Out now - $3 on itch!

There's something about Cavell Bridge. The way it arcs over the river and gleams like an insect's wing in summer. The way it rises like a sentinel over the dead land in winter. The way the fog comes down and clings to it at night, clouding the windows of lone cars that wait for companionship in the passing place.

It's a beautiful place; an in-between place. The kind where an otherworldly visitor might just reach out and touch you. And it's one hell of a place to break down.

5k+ words in EPUB and PDF format, with a cover by the engine-revving  Taylor Titmouse.

Content:

tF/M

First person POV

Objectum sexuality / machinophilia

Fat characters

Cruising / public hookup

Car sex

☁️🚗 Buy now - $3 on itch! 🚗☁️

This is the eleventh in the Fuck Yourself Friday series of shorts. New stand-alone erotic stories are released on the last Friday of every month.

FYF 1: Go Fuck Yourself

FYF 2: Shrinking Violet

FYF 3: Meatheads

FYF 4: Lucky Little Lunatics

FYF 5: Old Dog, New Trick

FYF 6: Seeing You

FYF 7: Break and Enter

FYF 8: Bodysnatched

FYF 9: Sangfroid

FYF 10: Don't Unwrap 'til Christmas

Or get stories 7-9 as a bundle for $7 until the end of February!

These stories contain explicit sexual content, and are intended for 18+ audiences.

[jazeswhbhaven]

Wrath Fueled By Victory | Satan Victory Card React | Spoilers

ITS BEEN A LONG TIME COMIN' I'm very sorry for the wait ya'll I was suppose to post this literally like before January was over and it's now nearly mid-February 💀

Ya'll know the drill, since this is a NP card, heavily summarized, a few screenshots, the usual.

Though I will tell you...this card was a MAJOR turn around from his Torture card in terms of pacing, writing, his personality shining through and through. And that date story???

Satan wants me to marry him I guess.

Butttt let's get this show on the road~

Summary

So it seems Satan is upset today because the Explosive Sphere event (wth lmaooo) has had so many victories by Gehenna that they are removing it. Like, no one else gets a chance to win because it's biased toward long-range snipers. (okay yah I guess I get that)

And surprise, surprise we get a cameo from the big granddaddy himself, Solomon! It appears that this card starts with a blast from the past, and Solomon's influence is seen in real time. Like he literally just whispers to Satan and he calms down just like that. Levi is even like >:( sit next to me and being semi-clingy and I'm just here like??? Damn that personality didn't transfer over to MC at all sorry 😭

The narration even pointed out that it wasn't that Solomon used overt logic or strength, he was simply just present, had a nice voice, and was just himself. Literally he's just that guy.

It's official, the Calvary Battles replaced the Exploding Sphere event, we're now in the future and things are underway and Satan is hyping up his men to win. Violence is allowed, so it sounds like the devils from each country are just gonna beat each other's asses until someone passes out essentially.

And the story reflects back to Luci's victory card, which honestly that shit was wild as it is. But it's nice to know that these themed cards are connected and therefore...canon lol (at least for whatever's happening, I imagine this is MC's everyday life and how it would be realistically during their time in Hell aside from the things happening in the main story)

It begins, each country planning out their battle strategies! As we see what Gehenna is up to, basically using 6 devils together in an "iron maiden" like formation with bombs attached to themselves (wild...) we have Hades (who sent Foras to spy on the Gehenna devils...) and they are using the 9 Apostles that will come out from 9 coffins, Levi will be wearing rings (sounds similar to the infinity gauntlet lmao who is he thanos?) to show his bond with them so they can work with Hades.

And not only that ya'll, a fly was spying on Hades...and we go over to Abyssos and they plan on hiring Abaddon devils from the Red Light District as mercenaries! (Nabe's idea btw, Stolas apparently just wanted to shoot everyone too the little angry birb) And then, while folks in Abyssos were placing their votes for a bet...there's this one devil that's confident that Abyssos will lose? Turns out....he's a spy for Tartaros 😭 (this is so wild ya'll)

I want to add that Tartaros had a transforming fortrace and they didn't even have plans for a stage 3 and Mammon was like "Ah pay the devil who suggested stage 3 and we'll get right to it" MAMMON PL SSSSSSSS what do you mean you didn't have more than two stages helpppppp.

And now, we're also looking into Paradise Lost, Gamigin wants to participate so badly to show that healer's aren't weak, even offering to turn into a complete dragon or to lend Lucifer his powers? (I bet he can do that tbh) and this entire display of the other nobles treating Gamigin softly about it, has Luci convinced to join in the battles (seems like he was going to not participate just out of choice, since I mean he won the horse races and got his prize already)

Then we get a visitor??? ZAGAN THE BABES <3 He shows up to Paradise Lost to ask the nobles to not participate this time around, only because he's worried that some devil's may actually die this time because MC is the prize. He doesn't want Satan most of all to get hurt, and it really shows us more of Zagan's personality. He went there of his own accord, is worried about his King and others, and is asking for standby help to prevent a possibly tragedy. Love him.

I'll be very brief about the battle, Satan won lmao. And it wasn't like the other's didn't try it's just...even with all the spying and cheating, Satan still came out on top and he did it so flawlessly too.

And the way he grabbed MC as his prize and whisked them away? I love it when it does that. So cocky, so....him. Phewww

So I'mma just say rn, I needed one of Beleth's cigarette's after reading the smut with Satan. Like ya'll we got backshots, for whatever reason MC was describing being fucked like a bitch in heat, but whatever I might as well be cause I'm a sucker for backshots and that's something Satan should like too because it gives him good range to smack that ass.

Also, so commanding, being mad about MC being so cute, saying that he's in charge so there's no reason MC should be ordering him around. MC gave him head, he was throatfucking, and because he had consumed devil's blood beforehand it seems that made him harder, bigger (more swollen), and just more unhinged and hornier than usual.

Bonus: they came at the same time, after ya know he made them cum like 9 times before that

And one thing Satan is always gonna do? Put MC to sleep. Which happened, he was being cute at the end, and MC just passes out. All of this in an alleyway mind you...Satan freaky asf fucking outside with the possibility of getting caught.

Screenshots!!

Okay Levi didn't let me down, he always got something to say...but this time??? All he's doing is affirming my ship delusions again

And damn Grandpa Solo....okay

He really said "make sure you get that ready for me" meaning....your hole MC...he's got a lot of time to make up since the horse racing event

AYO??????

Masked men are my kink so, Amy and I bout to fuck na s t y yyyyyyyy (though this seems dangerous and he can't see out of the damn thing lmao)

lemme suck them titties

Mammon out here got a damn transformer and bringing it to the fight I'm done lmaooooooo

Oh??? But they say he can't turn back into his devil self if he transforms....but me being me....

i'm down for full dragon Gamigin let's go

this sums up how I felt about this particular thing

Someone get this man some oranges to help him calm down lmaooo

Aight PB stop fueling me with arsenal...good arsenal at that because word on the street is....i might have written a little something something during my away time....

He is so boyfriend, I'm crying like??? This face???

"It's starting to hurt..." and he was referring to his dick....my gawd let me grind on it and make it hurt morrrrreeeeeeeeeeee

IDK IM FEELING SO MUCH EMOTION RN

*also to note this position he's sitting in for this card was my favorite and he kept his shoes on idk I was feeling things*

Date Story and Chat Summary!

I think it's funny that Satan pretty much just says outloud that he had good sex with MC and everyone is like :O and MC is like 🙃🙃🙃💀😭 and I'm over here like??? Okay, now I do understand not wanting your business out there, but???? Lol

Paimon thing: He likes shy ppl and certified hoes who open their legs too, so basically ya'll you're his type no matter what I guess💀

So the date ends up being that he takes MC to his private motorcyle repair shop! He's being so domestic and soft here you almost forget he gets angry and prefers to fuck roughly lmao

But also, a big thing we learn is Satan's love language of physical touch. He doesn't say things with words, it's all actions, so you could even say that Acts of Service, is also another love language for him! He really is very affectionate, and I love that so much about him.

But the main point being that he treated this date like how any regular degular human boyfriend would, and I think...that's really what sets him apart from the other devils! He has that sense of "normal humanity" to him when he feels like it and it brings you back to a sense of comfort. Now, I have yet to observe this behavior from the other devils, as I feel it's touch and go from what we get per story, BUT yes...

Btw it seems that Satan really likes bringing up how good the sex is, because he was doing that in the chats and even had a point in time where he was like "yeah it's big again, I'm going to you now." Like my guy literally was like

my dick hard so, i'mma bout to come fuck you <3

While also texting on his bike at that...like? lmao

Fun fact: During the hell events, the seraphim and the angels used to come down to try and take advantage of that but they pretty much got beaten up and when Luci started participating they pretty much stopped showing up altogether

Also, it seems Levi really was upset about losing twice 💀 but strangely enough, Satan doesn't think he's the petty type (I beg to differ, maybe not petty towards you Satan). And he thinks he's a real man even though others call him feminine. This is interesting to bring up though because I'm like...huh yeah Levi's a pretty boy, that's his thing, though I don't think it's a hinderance to anything. that attitude sure fucking is though.

And there we have it folks!!! That's pretty much everything in the card I can sum up for. It's quite obvious my score on this card is....

10/10 let's go

I really did enjoy this card way more than Satan's Torture one. Again, it's mostly because it had the same writing format at Levi's Torture card. A bunch of build up, some lore thrown in, some comedy, and then it leads up to the smut and it's pretty much it from there. Not solely focused on the smut only, it was pretty long, and we get to see the nobles and kings interact once again. Now, sadly since this was a true NP card, that means if you didn't get him this time around, you'll have to wait for them to bring it back in the future. Which I would recommend getting this card if you're a Satan fan! The date story was super cute too.

Now...it's on to Mammon's Victory card which from a quick glance, it was much shorter? Man they never do that devil justice when it comes to creating card content from him majority of the time, BUT I'll see ya there <3

[synamartia]

“ 2 a.m. . . . „

“ I got somethin' you can wrap your lips around . . . „

synopsis ┊ ◜ When you discovered the many infidelities of your boyfriend, you unabashedly sought comfort and solace in the arms of your ex-husband, Adam. After sharing one too many drinks with him over the course of a couple hours, your impulse control disintegrates as you find yourself metaphorically crawling back into his bed - something the both of you vowed would never happen again after last time, or the time before that . . . ◞ wc ┊ ◜ 6,346 ◞ warnings ┊ ◜ Adam x Reader ✧ Afab!Reader ✧ No pronouns or Y/N used ✧ Explicit / 18+ Only / MDNI ✧ ExHusband!Adam ✧ Sexual situations ✧ Cursing / Dirty talk ✧ Blow job ✧ Facial ✧ Reverse cowgirl ✧ Vaginal fingering ✧ Sex tape ✧ Rebound sex ✧ Dubcon / Drunken sex (level of inebriation left open for individual interpretation) ✧ Orgasm denial ✧ Unprotected sex ✧ Creampie ◞ notes ┊ ◜ I swore I wasn't going to be late with this one. I had it done on time, but then the formatting took WAY longer than expected, so now... here we are. I am so very sorry! For context purposes, know that I headcanon the color and luminosity of an angel's halo is a physical representation of their mood. Heaven-born angels and Winners that have been around for a while (like Adam and Lute) have learned how to control the way their halos look, but sometimes it slips. Special shout out to Hazel for letting me use the name Kenneth Brady from her WONDERFUL series: A Doe In Fall (characters are not the same). If you haven't yet, go read it! You will NOT be disappointed, I promise! And be sure to swing by our masterlist linked down below for some juicier fics by my beautiful wives! They'll have you sweating like a sinner in church~! ◞ links ┊ ◜ syn's masterlist ✧ coven kinktober 2024 ◞

1:54 A.M.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"What the... who the fuck is banging on my goddamn door...?" Adam grumbled as he yanked his bedroom door open, his hair sticking up in every direction, wings ruffled and frayed. It was two in the fucking morning, he had to be up at eight for a meeting with the High Seraphim, and someone was beating on his front door like a Karen hitting the counter, demanding to speak to a manager. "This shit better be fucking good."

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"Quit fucking beating on my door, asshole! I'm coming!" Adam shouted as he shuffled toward the front door, scratching at his bare belly as a loud yawn escaped seconds later. He would have just ignored the incessant pounding and opted to roll over instead, but when his unwarranted visitor had gone around to knock on his bedroom window several times, he angrily climbed out of the comforting warmth of his bed to find out who it was and what the hell they could possibly want so late at night.

Whoever was on the other side of that door better have a good fucking reason for waking him up, or he'd make a call to Lute. Adam was usually pissy when he first woke up in the morning, but Lute was just downright scary. There were horror stories passed around the Exorcist barracks of those unfortunate enough to wake her up either as a prank or a hazing ritual for the newer recruits, and as tired as he was, he was fully prepared to deal with the consequences of waking her up later on in the day if it meant he could go back to sleep at that very moment.

Shit, he might do it anyway, regardless of the validity of their reason.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"I swear to fucking god, you hit my door one more goddamn time..." he hastily unlocked the deadbolt and yanked the door open, ready to give the person a piece of his mind. "Listen, twatwaffle, do you have any fucking idea what time-?" Adam started, only to cut himself off when he saw that it was you leaning against the frame of his door with your hair done up, clad in a low-cut black dress and your matching strappy heels hanging from your well-manicured fingers. "Hey," you said softly, raising a hand to wave at him as he eyed your drooping wings and how they seemed to wrap around your lower half as a shield from the harsh bite of the cold air.

"Hey," he mocks your greeting with a sneer, stepping to the side to let you in. "You have any fucking idea what time it is?" Adam finished his earlier question, taking note of the dim light your halo was producing, its color a stormy gray - completely unlike its usual rose gold sheen. He'd only ever seen your halo that color twice in the many decades he'd known you - once after losing a bet to him over something he couldn't remember anymore, and again during the divorce proceedings.

Your split was amicable, but it still hurt you both all the same when you saw it in writing - you when you had to write your maiden name for the first time after it was final, and him when he had to mark "single" on any official documentation or when someone asked why he had three divorces under his belt. Though you both had decided that your marriage was over, you had remained good friends after the fact, and on occasion when you would hit a wall in your endeavors to find a new spouse, you would wind up here.

Something about the familiarity of it all was just... comforting.

"The fuck do you want?" Adam asked after closing the door and pushing past you, making his way over to the sofa and plopping down with a loud thud!

"Nothing, I just... wanted to see what you were doing," you said, avoiding his stare as you looked around the minimalist setup of his living room. When you finally met his gaze, you smiled sheepishly at the annoyance painted across it.

"Sleeping."

"Oh, well... what were you dreaming about?"

"Cut the bullshit. I know you're not here on a social call. What the fuck do you want?" Adam asked again, rubbing a large hand across his face as he tried to fight off sleep long enough to hear what you had to complain about this time.

Biting into your bottom lip, you nervously fidgeted with the straps of your heels before letting out an exasperated sigh and dropping onto the chaise. "We broke up. Kenneth and me."

"... Who?"

"Kenneth Brady. Remember? He's head of security down at the gates with Peter?" you asked as you looked back at him, taking note of his bare chest and the dingy pair of sweats he always wore to bed. Some things never changed, which you were glad for. The familiarity is what you were looking for right now, anyway.

"Oh! Bitchass Brady!" Adam exclaimed upon his realization as he stood up, narrowly dodging the spike of your heel when you threw your shoe at him. "Don't call him that," he heard you grumble as he stretched his muscles, hands reaching up to the ceiling and golden wings spreading out wide behind him before he tucked them beneath his arms once more.

"Why the fuck do you care what I call him? The dude's a fucking loser anyway, only god into Heaven because he was some kinda cop or whatever before he died," he rambled on as he made his way to the kitchen, earning a deep groan from you as you put your head in your hands. You could hear him shuffling around and opening up cabinets, and then the clinking of glass followed by him slamming the door shut once again.

Looking up when Adam finally returned to the living room, you saw that he was carrying two shot glasses and half a bottle of whiskey. "What're you doing?" you inquired when he set the glasses down on the coffee table and twisted the cap off the bottle, quickly pouring out two shots and downing them both before pouring two more.

"Drinking. What's it look like?" Adam snapped back at you as he picked up both glasses and offered one to you, not bothering to wait for you to take it before he threw back his third shot. Rolling your eyes at his response, you took the shot from his fingers and lifted it to your nose, inhaling the musky scent of the alcohol that spilled over the rim. "No shit. I mean why?"

"Bitch, you knock on my door at 2 AM knowing I'm trying to sleep just to complain about some tightass that thinks he's hot shit for guarding the gates of Heaven. We're fucking drinking."

That was all the convincing you needed to slam back the shot of whiskey, grimacing at the burning feeling in your chest as it went down.

3:07 A.M.

"... and then he just fucking stood there while she shoved her tongue down his throat! Didn't try to push her away or... or nothin'," you rambled on as you slunk down to the floor, leaning against the hard frame of the couch and holding your glass out to Adam for a refill. Without hesitation, he reached out and poured you another shot, misjudging the size of the glass and accidentally spilling it on your dress.

"Shit, sorry," he quickly apologized through his incessant giggling, his cheeks tinted a rosy pink as the alcohol had begun to take effect. He'd always been a happy drunk, and a flirty one too, which was why part of you suspected he had done it on purpose - to get you out of that dress. But you didn't think anymore about it, waving your hand in the air to dismiss his apology and drank the shot, slamming it down on the coffee table immediately after.

"I don't even know what the fuck I saw in a guy like that..." you mumbled, closing your eyes in an effort to stop the room from spinning around you. "Couldn't even fucking make me cum..."

Adam was still giggling as he poured out another shot, having made several snide remarks about your taste in men over the course of an hour. But when he heard you say that, he immediately stopped as he eyed you from across the table. "Wait- ... seriously?"

"Yeah. I mean, don't get me wrong, he tried. Oh, he fucking tried. But just..." you started, rolling your head and opening your eyes to look back at him, unsure if the light pink dusting across your cheeks was from the whiskey or from your sudden embarrassment at the current topic. "... He wasn't you."

Adam grinned widely at that, wiggling his brows at you as you noticed his halo shift from its standard bright white gold to a pale pink. "Yeah? So what you're saying is, only the Dickmaster can make you cream?" he asked cheekily, falling over onto his side in his efforts to dodge your other shoe when you threw it at him.

"Shut the fuck up, dipshit. I'm not saying that..." you moaned, closing your eyes as your head lolled back again while you tried to stifle your own laughter. God, you missed this. It had been too long since you and Adam had been together like this, just drinking and talking and having a good time - even if it was just you complaining about an ex boyfriend cheating on you.

You could hear Adam shuffling around, but with the way the room was spinning, you decided to keep your eyes shut. You weren't even that drunk, having only done six shots compared to his ten, but that combined with the overall exhaustion of the day's events leading up to you knocking on your ex husband's door at two in the morning was really taking its toll on you. Back when you and Adam were still married, you remembered drinking twice the amount you did now without catching a buzz - your tolerance having skyrocketed when you died and your previously red blood ran gold.

"You sure 'bout that, babe?" Adam asked, suddenly too close to your ear and making you fall over on your side just like he did. "Goddamnit Adam! How many times do I have to tell you not to fucking do that shit?!" you shouted as you glared at him, rolling over until you were laying on your back on the ground. Soon you were laughing along with him at the jumpscare when you realized how silly you must have looked. "Sorry, sorry," he apologized through his giggling, staring down at you from his spot on the edge of the couch.

Adam eyed the black dress you were wearing, specifically the deep v-neck that plunged well below your bust line, and the slit up the side that stopped mid-thigh. It had a halter strap, so your back was left completely bare, which told him one thing and one thing only: no bra. It was a revealing dress, one that accentuated your curves well and had him thinking back on all the times he had you bent over his work desk or pressed up against the shower wall - not that he was complaining, he just couldn't figure out what could have called for such attire in his drunken haze. "Where'd he even take you, lookin' like that?" the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

"Oh, this..." you mumbled, looking down at the black dress in question before slamming your head back on the floor just a little too hard, grimacing at the pain that followed. "We went to Avery's wedding, and I was a bridesmaid," you told him, not bothering to explain who Avery was. "And so was the chick he was fucking behind my back, the one he tried to say was out of her mind," you rambled on, not noticing the way Adam's grin widened and his eyes narrowed when you carelessly spread your legs apart in the middle of a stretch.

You could feel sleep trying to set in, but the way the tight dress had been twisted around your body was making it difficult for you to get comfortable enough to close your eyes for longer than a minute. "And you know what? Maybe she was fucking crazy. She kept going on about how she blew him under the table at the last wedding they went to during her maid of honor speech. Said she wasn't the only one, either..." Adam heard you speak as he leaned over, trying to get a peek up your dress as you waved your hands in the air during your rant.

When you sat up suddenly, he straightened out and curled his lips inward over his teeth, trying to seem as innocent as possible as you stared at him suspiciously. You watched him for a moment, but didn't think too much about it as you reached across the table for the bottle of whiskey.

"I'm just over it. So fucking over it," you grumbled. Adam hummed in response, your words flying right over his head as he leaned to the side to get a better view of your ass, biting his lip when he saw the arch of your lower back. Glancing over your shoulder at him, you shook the near empty bottle of whiskey to get his attention. "Got anymore? We're just about done with this one," you told him, not bothering with the shot glass as you upended the bottle in your efforts to chug what was left.

Fuck, you had to be doing this on purpose, he thought as he felt his cock twitch to life beneath the thin fabric of his sweats. He let his eyes drift from your backside up the length of your bare back, to the messy updo that was barely being held in place by an elegant claw clip, and further up to the pale pink ring floating above your head that matched his own.

'Well, if that's how this is gonna go...' Adam continued to ogle your backside, not even bothering to hide it anymore as you leaned back on your haunches and reached back to remove the claw clip, shaking your hair out with a sigh of relief.

"Nah, but I got somethin' else you could wrap your lips around," he spoke as he scooted further back onto the couch.

Scoffing lightly at the lame pick-up line, you rolled your eyes as you stared at the empty bottle with disappointment. "Where'd you learn that one? 7th grade?" you asked cheekily as you turned to look back at him, only to have your face flush a bright pink when you noticed the state he was in.

Adam sat there before you, his legs spread wide while he palmed his above-average erection through his sweats, a dark spot forming where his tip was leaking precum against the dingy fabric. You could feel your heart leap into your throat, excited by the idea of being with him again but still nervous - just like you always were right before sex, even during your marriage. You hadn't come here with the intentions of sleeping with him - you never did. But somehow, you knew that was how the night was going to end the moment you knocked on his door.

"No, I learned it in 9th grade. But it's still got you wet, doesn't it?" Adam teased you with a wide, shit-eating grin on his face, eyeing the way you began to rub your thighs together.

"S-shut up, asshole," you mumbled, not even bothering to argue with him as you crawled over to him, situationg yourself between his legs and rubbing your hands along his thighs.

"Make me, bitch."

Rolling your eyes at his derogatory remark, you swatted his hand away and slipped your fingers beneath the elastic waistband, signaling for him to lift himself up so you could pull them down properly. Adam smirked down at you when his cock sprung free, slapping against his stomach as he stretched his arms and wings out across the back of the couch, relishing in the way you licked your lips at the sight of him.

You didn't waste any time, immediately wrapping a hand around his substantial length and giving him a few solid pumps, your thumb brushing over his leaking slit and spreading his precum around to use as a lubricant. "So what was his deal exactly?" Adam asked, groaning softly at your touch as you glanced up with a confused look in your eye, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Did he just not know how to touch you? Needle dick? ... Did he bust too fast?"

You stopped all movement as you deadpanned. "Do you really wanna talk about some other guy's dick all night or do you want me to suck yours?"

Raising his hands in a motion of surrender, Adam let the subject go as you began to stroke his cock again, choosing instead to focus on your slow ministrations and holding back the urge to buck up into your hand. He'd never been the slow and gentle type, always going at it hard right out the gate, only recalling a handful of times where he actually made love to you instead of straight up fucking. Whenever he was alone and deep in his cups, sometimes he would wonder if that was why your marriage ended the way it did.

And maybe it was on the list - where, Adam didn't know - but he wasn't about to stop and ask. That was a whole nother can of worms, and it could wait until after he was done reminding you why he was the only one that could make every atom in your angelic body vibrate with salacious reverence.

"Fine, fine. But don't think you're off the hook-!" he hissed when you cut him off by wrapping your lips around his reddened tip and sucking gently.

Ever the tease, you were, and he had a very serious love-hate relationship with that aspect of your personality.

"Fuck..." Adam rasped, his head lolling back as you moaned around his head. The vibrations made his cock twitch as he raised his hips slightly in an attempt to get you to take more of him into your hot, slick mouth. For someone that was the progenitor of all humans, you'd think he would have learning som epatience over the countless millennia since his creation, but nope. Not this guy.

You loved it all the same, finding his impatience and neediness for your body extremely sexy.

With another hum, you opened your mouth wider to take more of him in, only getting about half of his raging hard-on in before his tip was bumping the back of your throat. You wrapped one hand around his remaining length - pumping and twisting in time with your bobs, smearking your saliva and his pre all along his aching prick for a smoother glide.

You've only just begun to touch him, and yet he was already on the brink - his painfully hard cock twitching in your mouth and the defined abdominal muscles hiding behind a layer of fat flexing each time you went back down. "Yeah, that's it, baby, suck my dick..." he groaned as he gathered your hair into a ponytail, his grip firm, pressuring you to move faster.

Smirking at the breathless sounds that he was producing, you did as he wordlessly obliged. You traced the vein on the underside of his cock with the tip of your tongue, curling it around what you were able to swallow shortly after and rubbing it back and forth as you bobbed your head, gaining momentum with each second that ticked by.

"Y'know, I've never had someone that- nngh! -goes down on me as good as you do," Adam admitted as he began to roll his hips, gagging you in the process. Humming in response, you stared up at him from your spot between his legs, your arousal pooling in the gusset of your panties as you continued to suck and slurp, soon hollowing your cheeks out. "Or anyone that can make me cum as fast as you do."

Cupping his heavy balls with your free hand, you began to roll his testes between your slender digits, massaging his scrotum gently. It never took long before Adam was reduced to a whimpering mess when you blew him, submissive and desperate for the pleasure your moist cavern promised him. Pulling back until only his tip remained in your mouth, you pressed back against his hand when he tried to force your head back down or push his hips up, the tip of your tongue running along his slit several times.

"Aah- ahmmm," you tried to say his name before you gave in and let him push you further down on his length than before. Adam sharply sucked in air through gritted teeth, his wings fluttering each time you moaned around him.

"F-fuck, I'm close," he warned you just before his thick vein began to pulse beneath your tongue, raising his head once again to look down at you. "Shit!" with a shout, Adam was pulling your head back by your hair until your mouth released him with a loud pop, replacing your lips with his hand and fisting his cock at a speed much greater than the one you had been moving at.

"G-god-!" A deep groan rumbled through his hairy chest, muscles clenching and hips matching the vigorous stroking of his hand.

With one final pump, Adam was spilling his hot seed across your face, coating your lips with each spurt in ropes of the milky white substance. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" A string of curses and moans of your name poured from his mouth, squeezing the tip and coaxing every last drop from his balls, the viscous fluid dripping down your chin onto your tits and the dress he had been so curious about only minutes ago.

When he finally loosened the grip he had on your hair, you moved to take him in again, sucking harshly to clean him off and coat your tongue in his salty spend. Head falling back against the couch frame, Adam panted heavily as he basked in the afterglow of his climax, his whole body and wings twitching from the overstimulation of you cleaning him up.

Once you were satisfied with the job you had done, you pulled away and rose up until you were sitting straight up on your knees, reaching to undo the clasp of your halter strap. Adam eventually raised his head again, running a single hand through the damp wetness of his chestnut strands. He groaned audibly when he saw your face still covered in his seed and the few drops that had landed on your dress, reaching to pull you up until you were straddling his waist.

"Shit baby, I'm sorry, it got on your dress," Adam apologized, though there was no substance behind it - he quite liked the way it made you look, reminding him of the first time you let him cum on your face and chest.

"It's okay," you reassured him, voice raspy as he reached up to swipe away the few beads on your cheek and brow. "I like it better like this anyway," you said just before taking his fingers into your mouth and sucking them clean.

"Jesus fucking Christ..."

4:36 A.M.

"H-holy shit- ... missed this pretty pussy so fucking much- ... fuuuuck!"

Thrusting up into your quivering hole, Adam breathes heavily into the crook of your neck, his teeth carelessly nipping at the tender flesh as he draws slow, firm circles on your clit. "Goddamn! S-still so fucking tight!" he murmured, his free hand wrapped around the back of your thigh and holding it up as you pressed your back against his broad chest. You'd always been so damn tight whenever he would first pierce you - almost as if he were taking your virginity, your walls easily molding to the shape of his cock like they were made just for him.

"A-Adam- hahhh! I-I can't- ... 'ts too much-!"

"H-hahah- guess I'm not- nngh! -doing it right- hngh! -if you can still talk- oh fuck, yes!" he muttered, slouched against the cushions with his feet planted firmly on the cold marbled floor - allowing him the perfect amount of leverage to pound into you, the head of his cock nudging your cervix with every buck of his hips. "Gonna fuck those words right outta your pretty little head," Adam babbled on, delivering several light slaps to your clit, the resulting jolts of pain accenting the intense pleasure running through your veins beautifully.

Adam grasped for one of your hands, guiding it to your overstimulated clit and urging you to rub it with the same vigor he did. "So, he couldn't get you off, huh? Not once?" he inquired, gripping the back of your other thigh, forcing both your legs up higher and spreading them further apart. "That's why you're here, isn't it? Needed a real man to give you what that boy couldn't?" Unable to make sense of hte words coming out of his mouth, you were too fucked out to think beyond the delicious stretch of his cock spearing your insides - the sound of skin slapping every time his hips met your ass drowning out everything he had been saying.

He could feel the tale-tell flutter of your walls around him and slowed his thrusts down until he was barely moving inside you - edging you for the umpteenth time that night in his desire to drag this out as long as possible. Whining loudly as you tried to wiggle your hips and keep that friction going, Adam slapped your thigh harshly as a warning. "Ah, ah! Don't even think about it, bitch!"

"Adaaaam- fuck, I can't- ... can't take it anymore-!" you cried, tears streaming down your face as you felt your orgasm slipping away again, leaving you aching and desperate and completelyat his mercy. His breathy chuckle echoed in your ears as he pushed your lower half up, holding you tightly and refusing to let you move. "Yes, you can! You're gonna take whatever I give you- ohhh fuck, fuck! Such a good little cocksleeve- hnngh! Always so fucking good, just for me!" Adam praised you as he sunk his teeth into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, a mixture of your sweat and his saliva coating your delicate skin.

With a pathetic whimper, you struggled against the grip he had on your thighs, but your efforts were futile against the strength of his hands. Your nails dug harshly into his forearm, leaving crescent shaped marks on his downy covered skin as your fingers drew incessant circles on your clit, trying to recover that lost orgasm on your own. "Oh my god, I'm gonna fucking cream, Adam, please, please just-!" you whined, squirming in his grasp even more when he reached and pulled your hand away. "No, no, no, please- fuuuck! ... -don't make me stop, p-please Adam, I'm so fucking close!"

"Shh, shh, shh, I know, baby!" Adam whispered in your ear, nibbling on your earlobe as he began to thrust up into you once more, his strokes languid and deliberate. "A-Adaaammm-!" another cry of his name escaped as you panted heavily, his hands moving from your thighs to your hips, allowing you to brace your feet on the frame of the couch. He held you tightly though, preventing you from moving at all as he slid out until only the head of his cock remained in the warm grip of your tight walls.

"Fuuuuckkk-" Adam groaned loudly, fucking his tip into you with stuttering minute thrusts, struggling to hold himself back a few more seconds as the need to bury his cock in you grew by the second. Gradually, he pushed further in, walls so pliant as the engulfed his hard shaft, slowly picking up the pace once he was sure your release had ebbed. He didn't want to stop, he wanted to keep going, like you had been begging him to do each time he would deny you that sweet, sweet release. But he didn't know when he'd get another chance like this, so he was trying to make the most of this one night, just as he did every other night you showed up on his doorstep.

"Marry me," he whispered, voice low and husky as he breathed heavily against your ear. "I want you to come home, baby. Be my wife again."

"A-Adam, let me cum, please just let me cum, I need to-!" you sobbed, your hips jerking against his hands in an attempt to gain some more friction.

"Nuh-uh, not until you say you're gonna come back to me."

"Adam!"

"That's not a yes."

Adam wanted to make you see that he was the only one that could please you, that could give you everything you could ever need or want. He was prepared to do this all night if he had to. He'd bring you to the brink of ecstasy, only to deny you that final push until you realized no other choice could hold a candle to him. He was determined to fuck you so well, you wouldn't be able to even look at another person, let alone spend a single night in their bed. They didn't deserve you. No other man deserved you, only him, and he wasn't going to stop until you saw it too.

Another sob tore through your lips as you threw your head back, biting into your bottom lip until blood began to roll down your chin, mixing with your salty tears and the remnants of his cum as he slowed down once more. He always did this whenever you climbed into his bed, always asked you to come back, to be his wife again as if all the problems that ended your marriage in the first place had disintegrated into dust. And just like every other time, you would tell him exactly what he wanted to hear, both of you knowing full well that they were just words said in the heat of the moment.

"Yes, yes, fine, I'll come back!" you whimpered, squirming even more as you felt his lips stretch into a wide grin at your words. "I'll fucking marry you again Adam, j-just please-!" you begged him, reaching up to grab a fistful of his hair, the sting of your grip drawing a low groan from his throat. Satisfied with your answer, Adam, placed several kisses to your neck and jaw, loosening his grip to allow you room to move. "That's fucking right, you will," he mumbled under his breath, pressing his lips to your temple, breathing in the scent of your shampoo mixed with sweat as that familiar smacking sound of skin on skin filled the room once more.

"Shiiit- just listen to you," Adam grunted as he picked up the pace, reaching for his phone lying on the cushion next to him. "So fucking drunk on my cock now, all you can do is moan like a bitch in heat," he prattled on as he opened the camera, pressing record as he angled it to get a good shot of your cunt.

"Look at that, baby," Adam demanded, grabbing a fistful of your hair and directing your gaze to his screen. "F-fucking look at how I'm splitting you open! Been a while sin- nngh! -ce you were stretched out like this, huh?" Doing what he bid you to do, you stared down at the screen with half-lidded eyes, watching as he impaled you on his prick over, and over, and over again, fucking himself impossibly deeper into you with every thrust until your eyes crossed.

"Goooddd-!" another pathetic cry as you began to bounce, tired of waiting for him to reach that pace that had you seeing stars. Adam didn't seem to mind though, excited by the way you mindlessly chased the release he'd denied you so many times. Grabbing hold of your hip and helping you to slam yourself back down, his length twitched within you as his own end was steadfastly approaching. "Fuck, fuck! Keep going, fucking slut, keep bounching on my fucking cock like that!" he urged you on, struggling to hold the camera steady so he could watch how your greedy cunt swallowed him whole, your essence coating his length and leaving a thick white ring at the base of his cock.

"H-hah, hah, fuck- ... bet ol' needle dick would love to hear what you actually sound like when you cum," Adam spoke through gritted teeth, matching your movements as he frantically bucked up into you at a wild pace, the obscene squelching sound made by each thrust being the only thing you could hear now. "Did you fake it with him? To make him feel like more of a man, like he wasn't the biggest fucking cuck?" he asked you, knowing damn well you were too far gone to process anything he said by the way your hips stuttered in their rapid bouncing.

"More, more, more!"

Reaching down once again, Adam pressed the palm of his hand to your puffy clit, slowing his thrusts long enough to slip two fingers into your dripping core alongside his cock. "How's about we show him the right way to make you squirt, hm?" he asked, his words cutting through the white noise momentarily until he curled his fingers to rub against your spongy g-spot, the pleasure clouding your mind once more. "Oh fuck me, right there-!" you gasped, grinding down against his hand and cock.

"Right here, baby?" Adam breathed against your neck, thrusting his fingers into you at the same pace as his cock, the meat of his large hand slapping against the overstimulated pink nub, the wet smacking sound bouncing off the walls and flooding your senses.

"M-mmhmm, mmhmm! Right fucking there! Harder!"

"Yeah? You want it harder?" he babbled as he continued to rail you, your tits bouncing in tandem with each snap of his hips against your ass, his balls tightening as that coil in the pits of his belly wound up almost to a painful degree. Nodding your head in response, you arched your back as your loud cries of pleasure suddenly fell silent - your vision blurring as wave after wave of blissful ecstasy crashed over you and your essence gushes from your throbbing cunt.

A couple moments of silence go by before you're sucking in air greedily, chest heaving and walls spasming around his thick cock and fingers, grip unrelenting. Adam whispered praises in your ear as he ended the video, tossing the phone aside and grabbing both of your hips after pulling his slick covered digits from your pulsing heat.

"So fucking good, sucking me in-! Fuck!" Adam shouted over and over again as he pounded into you from below, your body going limp against his as he used your quivering hole, the relentless pursuit of his pleasure brutal and unyielding. Snapping his hips at a wild pace, his words were nothing more than white noise to you now, much like the sounds of skin slapping against skin punctuated by his grunts of exertion.

"Take it, take my fucking cock! O-oh, fuck-!"

Adam's hips began to stutter, and with a few more thrusts, he was emptying his balls into you, a mixture of your essences creating a white ring around the base of his cock. He fucked you through his high, deaf to your cries for mercy for a few more seconds before he began to slow down.

Eventually his hips came to a full stop, breathless gasps for air as his muscles relaxed and he loosed the bruising grip he had on your hips. Adam pressed several tender kisses to your skin where he had bitten you, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you tightly, your wings pressed haphazardly to his skin as you basked in the afterglow.

When he felt a shiver run up your spine, Adam wrapped his golden wings around both your forms to provide you with some warmth, enjoying the silence as sleep began to creep back in for you both.

"... You gotta stop asking me to marry you when we're fucking."

Adam snorted at your remark, rubbing soothing circles to your stomach as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

"Sure. I'll stop just as soon as you quit showing up on my doorstep at 2 in the morning bitchin' about having to fake an orgasm to protect Bitchass Brady's fragile little ego."

"I told you not to... oh, what the fuck ever. I don't give a shit anymore," you mumbled, rolling your head to press a kiss to his temple and wrapping your hands around his wrist, a content sigh falling from your lips as your heart rate returned to normal. More silence ensued, and when Adam noticed your breathing slow down, he realized that you had fallen asleep, smirking as his ego soared ever higher from just the idea of fucking you so good that you passed out.

"Get some sleep, babe," Adam whispered to you softly, pulling his cock free from your sloppy cunt and twisting until you both were laying on the couch chest to chest. Wrapping one arm around your sleeping figure, he reached for his phone once again and quickly typed in Brady's number in a new message.

With a few more taps to his screen, Adam yawned heavily once he pressed 'send'. Tossing it to the coffee table and wrapping his other arm around you, he soon joined you in the lad of dreams, smiling triumphantly when he thought about Brady watching the video he just took of you.

7:48 A.M.

DING!

... ... ...

"ADAM!"

"... What? What did I do?"

story ┊ ◜ synamartia ◞ header ┊ ◜ synamartia ◞ dividers ┊ ◜ kodaswrld ✧ fanguro ◞ summoning ┊ ◜ @hazelfoureyes ✧ @minkdelovely ✧ @sugoi-writes ✧ @fraugwinska ✧ @macabr3-barbi3 ◞

Please do not copy or repost as your own! Thank you!

[olowan-waphiya]

Tribal Leaders Sign Historic Co-Stewardship Agreement with National Forest Service in the Black Hills

“This landmark co-stewardship effort will feature storytelling in various formats at the Pactola/He Sapa Visitor Center, educating the larger public and helping current and future generations of Native People connect with their own creation stories and cultural identities.

On June 6, leaders of the Cheyenne River, Standing Rock, Oglala, Rosebud, and Crow Creek Sioux Tribes gathered in the He Sapa — the Black Hills — to sign an historic Memorandum of Understanding at the newly renamed Pactola/He Sapa Visitor Center with U.S. Forest Service officials. Together, they’re beginning a process of sharing Indigenous cultural heritage with visitors from all over the world. Leaders said that they want to see young, Native children visit the Black Hills and experience the importance of the landscape with a deep understanding of their own heritage.

Previously known as the Pactola Visitor Center, the seasonal facility welcomes more than 40,000 visitors annually from Memorial Day through Labor Day — and approximately another three million people pass through the area each year.

This effort has been several years in the making, though the process hit a snag during the Trump years. When tribal leaders initially proposed the concept to the U.S. Forest Service in 2018, the idea was heard but not taken seriously. Persistence pays, however, and the efforts of many relatives and allies eventually led the Forest Service to agree.

We hope this is just the tip of the iceberg. It’s critical that Lakota — and all Indigenous — stories and history be shared from an authentic perspective with those who visit our homelands. To that end, please stay tuned this summer. I can’t tell you too much about it yet, but we’ll soon be launching an ambitious program that can help ensure Native stories are told — and Native tribes are funded — on occupied Indigenous homelands across Turtle Island. “

Via the Lakota People’s Law Project

[toffee4you]

Short fic based on @workoho's artwork.

I am making some assumptions here since I have not completed recent B7 chapters, but I heard equestrian club has canon fanclubs.

My formatting has gone out the window, half of this is yap. Cheers for my first time writing the reader as the Ramshackle prefect!

Content: Fluff with romantic implications, prefect!reader, established friendship, confession happens in the middle of a crowd because I think Silver has hopeless romantic brainworms. Not yet proofread.

The equestrian club was putting on a show for the cultural fair today. Normally, it would be difficult to find seats with all of the visitors pouring in—especially if you consider that some of the boys have entire fanclubs dedicated to them. Fortunately for you, each member of the equestrian club was given permission to save one seat for a guest, and Silver had offered you a front-row view. You found it a bit questionable that he did not give the seat to Lilia or Malleus, but he claimed "They would have no issue finding their own..."

15 minutes before the show begins, and you see a figure approaching your seat; it is impossible to mistake that silver hair anywhere, even when his style is different from the usual. He stops in front of you, taking a knee. You stare back in confusion, the crowd clearly sharing the same sentiments as they began to murmur at the overly-dramatic scene.

"Prefect, I hope that you will watch closely... I will do my best to stay awake and win this show, for you."

Odd. It is true that the two of you have been good friends for some months, but the gesture and the way he stared almost felt personal. As if confirming your suspicions, he took your hand into his—slowly enough for you to reject it, had you wished—then pressed a chaste kiss onto the back of it. With a smile, he stood up and left to prepare, leaving your brain in a state of chaos. Perhaps you were being delusional, and this was perfectly normal in a place like Twisted Wonderland... But the feeling of certain fans staring daggers into your back suggested otherwise.

At long last, it was time for the show. Many of the students had impressive displays, Sebek and Riddle standing out in particular. Yet, you found yourself waiting on Silver to come out, like a prince on his white horse. After all, you had to ensure your dear friend would keep his word... But perhaps you had expected too much, because his display was late. An awkward silence passed through the audience, the field abnormally vacant; You suspected one of his sleep spells got to him.

Surely enough, the next rider was Silver, mounted gallantly upon Samson. A keen eye could spot the residue drowsiness in his half-lidded gaze, yet he continued on his performance with determination. Every obstacle was vaulted flawlessly, every dressage movement executed with perfect sync between rider and horse. For his closing performance, he ran Samson around the track several more times, seemingly removing his hands from the reigns to snag a rosey red item from the surrounding shrubs each time. You could hardly make out what they were until he started wrapping them mid-performance, just enough to form a bouquet—a small one albeit, yet an incredible showcase of skill and trust to create on horseback.

Samson continued to gallop one last time around the track, reaching the front of the audience. Particularly, reeling right in front of your seat. You knew what was coming by now, but that wasn't enough time to perish the feeling of embarrassment in front of a entire crowd. Removing his helmet, Silver pressed it against his chest in a chivalrous manner, leaning slightly as he offered the heartfelt bouquet.

"Prefect, will you accept my token of love?"

Oh, how you would have smacked him on the head for saying this in front of so many people, but his honesty and innocent intentions had moved you. You gave a bashful nod, taking the bouquet from his hands before he left off-field. If the crowd had been staring daggers at you earlier, they were staring swords now. You could even see Lilia making a big commotion in his seat from your peripheral vision, Malleus giving a nod of approval.

So they did get their view after all...

Silver goes MIA because Riddle abolishes him for plucking roses.

[yuurei20]

Short Translation from Twst the 2nd novel: The Day of the Tournament (1/6)

"'All right! Is everyone here?'

Vargas's booming voice echoes throughout the auditorium. The students are visibly exasperated at being subjected to it first thing in the morning.

‘Vargas sure is as intense as ever.’ Grim, at Yuuya's side, presses his large ears down against his head with both paws. ‘The teachers will hear you,’ Yuuya scolds in a whisper.

It is early on the morning of the spelldrive tournament, and Yuuya and the other students have been gathered in the auditorium, as they knew they would be, for a final review of the day’s agenda before the spectators begin to arrive.

Except for a few members of the organizing committee—standing at the front—all students sit on the long benches of the auditorium, grouped by dorm. And everyone is dressed in their dorm uniforms, with the exception of Yuuya and Grim. This is to demonstrate their authority in this match of rivals. It seems that only the competing athletes will change into their gym clothes just before the match begins.

Yuuya—of Ramshackle Dorm, with no relation to the other seven—sits in a back corner with Grim, wearing jersey pants and a plain white T-shirt. Surrounded by such elaborate dorm uniforms, he is most uncomfortable.

He has looked over the crowd, but there are too many students for him to identify Ace, Deuce, or any of the upperclassmen with whom he has become familiar over the past few days.

True to his role of gym teacher, Vargas stands at the lectern with even more energy than usual. He does not so much as glance at the syllabus in his hand as he confidently explains the day’s schedule.

‘—and, as you are all aware, this year there will be a march of competing athletes.’

Sounds of envy echo here and there throughout the auditorium.

It seems that the march is a new initiative, introduced just this year. Elite athletes of such a prestigious academy marching in formation in their marvelous dorm uniforms is certain to be a spectacular sight.

‘The march will begin here, at the main building. You’ll travel down Main Street, pass through Side Street, and enter the coliseum. Athletes, be aware that you are all to meet up in a different place than in previous years.’

Side Street leads to the coliseum from Main Street, which connects directly to the main gate. While narrower than Main Street and its statues of the Great Seven, Side Street boasts an impressive cobblestone avenue that will enable many of their visitors to view the march."

[badkitty3000]

☕Love In The Time Of Cholera And Coffee ☕

Part One: Chapters 1-6

Five x Female Reader, Klaus x Female Reader

You and Klaus are in a casual relationship. No ties, just sex. When you start spending a lot of time at his apartment, you somehow manage to break through his brother's prickly outer shell. He seems to like you, or at least tolerate you the best that Five can. When you start to realize that maybe there is more than just mutual friendship between the two of you, it opens up a lot of feelings and unanswered questions. And a lot of problems.

This story contains sexually explicit material! (But also lots of humor and fluff)

Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Multi-Chapter Fic, Cross-posted on AO3. Link to my Master List.

This story alternates between the reader's POV and Five's POV. I will update a chapter at a time going forward. If you'd like to read it on AO3's format, here is the Link to story on AO3.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter One: Motivation, Routine, and Caffeine

You have been sort of dating Klaus for several weeks already. Not exactly his girlfriend and not exactly not his girlfriend. You are something in between and you are ok with that. You don’t need a major commitment and you are content with a casual relationship. Maybe not forever, but for right now it suits your needs. Klaus is fun and easygoing, and always makes you feel relaxed. He can be selfish sometimes, that is true, but you are willing to overlook it for the most part. As long as he doesn’t bring his selfishness into the bedroom, which so far he has not, then you could live with it.

The sex is good. Which is probably the real reason you’ve been hanging around so long. Without the sex, there isn’t a whole lot keeping you there. You don’t have a lot in common, except that you both like watching old English-dubbed Samurai movies on TV late at night while passing a joint back and forth. You don’t even like smoking that much, but Klaus has a way of making everything seem alluring and sexy, so you never hesitate when he takes a long hit off a joint and hands it over to you.

You spend a lot of your time at his apartment. You work a lot of hours, and sometimes have to work late, and his apartment is much closer than yours. That’s actually where you had met Klaus, at the bakery and coffee shop that you manage. He had come in for a tea and started making small talk with you. Before you knew it, he had you cracking up when he made a joke about eating your muffin. You weren’t even offended; that’s just part of the magic of Klaus. He can say pretty much anything and get away with it.

It doesn’t hurt that he’s one of the most beautiful men on the planet. Honestly, sometimes you’re jealous of how every single piece of clothing looks amazing on him and he never seems to have a bad hair day. Being with Klaus is like walking around in the company of some ancient Greek sculpture come to life. He draws eyes wherever he goes, from both men and women, and he’s never shy about returning the looks, either.

He likes to go shopping with you to help you pick out clothes, and he always lets you know if they look good on you or not. He’s funny, and sweet, and it’s very easy to fall under his spell. With Klaus you get the best of both worlds; a fun best friend that you can share clothes and gossip with, but who you also get to fuck.

That initial run-in with him eventually led to a few hook ups, and now you are a regular visitor at his place. It works out well. He always stays up late, so it’s no big deal if you swing by on your way out of work at midnight.

You are also working a lot in order to hopefully buy the shop from the current owner. Soon, you’ll have enough cash, along with a loan from the bank, to buy it. And you already run the place, anyway. It has always been a dream of yours to be able to own your own business.

So, between the long hours and financial preparation for the purchase, you don’t have a whole lot of free time. Most of what you do have, you spend with Klaus since it’s convenient and fun. Which, as it turns out, means you are also spending a lot of time with his brother.

You knew from the beginning who Klaus was. You know all about The Umbrella Academy and the Hargreeves family, because everyone does. Not that they’re really a household name anymore, but you know all about their history and their powers. So, when you found Klaus shared an apartment with Number Five, you were intrigued. You knew he had gone missing for a long time, but didn’t really know the whole story. Klaus had filled you in one night, though, and you were left feeling sorry and sad for him. That is, until you met him.

The first time you were there, sitting on the couch with Klaus watching TV, Five had teleported directly into the living room and scared the living shit out of you. After you screamed, he looked at you like you were some sort of flea-ridden possum that had gotten inside the house when someone left the door open.

“Holy shit!” you had shrieked, clutching at your chest and trying to catch your breath.

Without addressing you in any way, or introducing himself, Five glared at you, then turned to Klaus with a scowl. “Keep your feet off the coffee table. And stop leaving the goddamn milk out.”

Then he was gone again, in a swoosh of light, leaving you staring at an empty space.

“Wow, that was intense. Does he always do that?” you had asked Klaus.

Klaus just laughed and nodded, putting his feet back up on the coffee table. “Oh yeah, that’s just Five. You get used to it.”

“He seems kind of scary. And angry.”

“Fivey? Oh no, not at all. My big brother is really just a mushy little teddy bear all dressed up in a three-piece suit. Trust me, his bark is much bigger than his bite.” Then Klaus creased his eyebrows together in thought and pointed his joint at you. “But, maybe try not to piss him off too much. Just in case.”

Because of what you learned about Five’s time travel mishaps, he looked younger than Klaus and a few years younger than you. You were somewhere in between the two of them. But Five definitely had the grumpy, older brother thing down. After you got used to him appearing and disappearing without warning, you started to loosen up around him a little bit. Even though Klaus told you he was really a softy inside, you have a hard time believing it from the way he acts around you. After several weeks straight of being ignored, you decide to call him out on his bullshit.

Five appears out of a portal of blue directly in front of you as you are on your way to the bathroom. As usual, he gives you his signature sneer and is about to walk past you when you grab him by the arm. He looks down at his arm where your hand is and then back at your face; a murderous glint in his eyes.

“What the hell is your problem?” you ask him, doing your very best not to show your nerves.

“My problem? I don’t have a problem, thank you. Now let go of me.”

His voice is hard, but he also hasn’t tried to pull away, and you keep your hand on him. His upper arm is much firmer and solid than you had expected and you can feel his bicep flexing under your fingers.

“Why are you always so rude? I haven’t done anything to you.”

Five rolls his eyes and sighs. “Christ. Look, I’m sorry if I’m not dying to be all buddy-buddy with you. I learned a while ago that it’s not exactly worth getting to know my brother’s flavor of the month.”

You know he’s meaning to insult you, but you end up laughing instead. It’s no secret that Klaus is a total man-whore and you’re fine with that. It’s nothing serious and if another man came along that you were interested in, Klaus wouldn’t mind that, either. In fact, he’d probably want to meet him.

“Look, your mean old man act is wearing a little thin. It wouldn’t kill you to be somewhat nice once in a while. Maybe even get to know me? Most people think I’m a fucking delight.”

Five gives a sarcastic snort of laughter and looks back at your hand on his arm. This time, you let go. “How about this, sweetheart? If you’re still around next week, I’ll consider finding out how much of a fucking delight you are.”

You smile and hold out your hand, ignoring his condescension. “Alright, old man. Deal.”

You notice a tiny twitch of the corner of his mouth, but then it’s gone again. He looks cautiously at your hand, like he’s not sure what to do with it at first, and then he gives it a quick shake with his own before muttering something under his breath and blinking away again.

It is exactly one week later, and you haven’t forgotten Five’s deal. He has been slightly more cordial to you in the past seven days, but he still doesn’t take the time to stick around more than two minutes to talk to you. So, you’re practically beaming with satisfaction that you get to rub it in his face and actually make him talk to you.

You corner him in the kitchen one morning, as he’s pouring a cup of coffee. “Hi!” you exclaim loudly as his back is turned to you, and you laugh when he almost spills his coffee everywhere.

“Fuck!” he yells, before turning around and glaring at you.

You bounce on your toes and clap. “Guess what today is?”

“I can only hope that it’s National Leave Your Boyfriend’s Brother The Fuck Alone Day?”

You give a fake laugh and shake your head. “No, dummy. And he’s not my boyfriend, anyway. It’s been a week and I’m still here, right in your grumpy little face. So, now you have to talk to me.”

“I most certainly do not,” he states dryly before taking a sip of his coffee and then making a face of disgust. “Damn it, Klaus cannot make a decent pot of coffee to save his life.”

“Oh my gosh, that’s what I told him! It’s the worst!”

That seems to pique Five’s interest a little and he gives a small smile. “He buys the cheapest shit ever. Everyone knows the secret to good coffee is –"

“Quality coffee beans.”

He looks stunned that you said exactly what he was going to say and he lowers his mug. “Yeah, that’s right.”

“See? If you had taken the time to know me a little, you would know that I actually manage a café. I know all about good coffee.”

You don’t know him well enough to recognize all of his expressions, but if you could guess, you’d say he looks somewhat impressed.

You continue on. “And, since I know firsthand that Klaus’s coffee is total shit, I have started bringing my own with me. Wait right here.”

You leave, go into Klaus’s bedroom, and pull out a small bag of coffee grounds from the overnight bag you brought with you. When you return to the kitchen, Five is still waiting there, and you hold it up for him to see.

“Now, move out of the way so I can dump that swamp water out and make us something good.”

Five actually does what you say, and moves out of your way, allowing you to clean out the pot and fill the coffee maker up with fresh water and your special grounds. He doesn’t say anything, but he’s watching you intently. It’s slightly unnerving but you try to ignore it.

When you’re done and all you can do is wait for the coffee to brew, the two of you stand on opposite sides of the kitchen, leaning against the countertop. Five has his arms crossed over his chest and you start fidgeting with your hands, picking at your nails and cuticles. Your boldness from just a few minutes ago has faded.

“So, you’re the manager of a café?” Five finally asks, breaking the silence.

“Yes. Soon to be owner, if things go well.”

Five raises his eyebrows and nods his head in approval. “Sounds like a smart move.”

“I hope so. It’s a big step, but I’m ready for it. I want to be my own boss.”

Five nods his head again, but doesn’t say anything. After another minute of silence, the coffee maker beeps. Thankful for something to do, you pull out two new clean mugs and pour each of you a cup. When you hand one to Five, he takes it from you and you notice his hands. They look strong, with taught tendons running down the backs and long, slender fingers. You’ve always had a thing for hands.

“Holy shit,” Five says, his forehead creased with lines.

“What? No good?” you ask, genuinely surprised that he wouldn’t like it.

“No, quite the opposite. This is perfect!”

You laugh and hold up your mug. “And you didn’t want to get to know me.”

Five makes a face that kind of resembles a smile and takes another drink. “Well, if I’d known you made coffee like this…”

You laugh again and shake your head. “Klaus insists you are just a big teddy bear, and maybe I’m beginning to see it. Underneath all that crabbiness, anyway.”

“I’m not crabby,” Five insists, giving you the crabbiest frown ever.

“Oh, ok. Sorry. Curmudgeonly? Would you prefer that?”

To your surprise, he actually laughs. You’ve never heard him laugh before and it catches you off guard. But you like the way his face breaks into a big grin and the sound that rises up out of his chest like it’s been stored in there for a very long time and is finally being released.

“Well, I’ll be damned…did you just make Senor Cinco laugh?”

You and Five both turn and see Klaus sauntering into the kitchen to join you, wearing nothing but a small pair of bright blue underpants. He sidles up to you and throws an arm around your shoulder, leaning down and giving you a kiss on the cheek.

“I did!” you exclaim with a smile, putting your arm around his naked waist.

“That just might be a new record. Usually, it takes at least three months, plus a few thinly-veiled death threats, before you get an honest to goodness laugh out of him.”

Five rolls his eyes and his face returns to its normal seriousness. “Actually, Klaus, I just don’t laugh at anything you have to say. Because you’re a fucking idiot.”

“Aw…I love you too, Fivey,” Klaus responds before he reaches out and ruffles Five’s hair.

Five bristles and runs a hand over the mess Klaus made, trying to restore his normal style.

“Well, as much as I’d love to continue this thrilling conversation, I’ll be taking my leave now. Enjoy your day doing…what do you two do, anyway? Contract various STDs and debate the nuances of Scooby Doo?”

You let out a loud cackle at that, which makes Five smile crookedly in your direction; right before he blinks away, leaving Klaus rolling his eyes and you with an inexplicably warm feeling in your chest.

Another week has passed and you and Klaus are still playing the no-ties dating game. Since you had turned Five on to your coffee making skills, the two of you have developed a bit of a friendship. While Klaus likes to stay up late and sleep in the next day, you are up early. Despite your long work hours, you generally don’t need a lot of sleep to function. You run mostly on motivation, routine, and caffeine. Which, coincidentally, so does Five.

Because you are both up in the early morning hours, you and Five will end up meeting in the kitchen when the sun is barely above the horizon. He will sit quietly at the small kitchen table and watch while you go about making coffee for the two of you. Neither of you say much until the coffee is finished brewing and has been poured. Then you sit down across from Five and he’ll actually engage in conversation.

At first, it was like pulling teeth to get Five to answer any questions, but after a while he warmed up. Now, you’re pretty sure he actually likes sitting down and talking to you. This morning is no different, and you and Five are in the kitchen, comfortably talking and sipping coffee when Klaus wanders in.

He yawns and stretches his sinewy body before flashing you a smile. “Morning, babe. I feel like waffles. You guys want some waffles?”

Five says nothing, but you smile back up at Klaus. “As long as you aren’t suggesting I get up and make them, then yes, I’m up for some waffles. We can go to that diner down the street.”

Klaus comes over and starts running his hands through your hair, massaging your scalp in the process and combing out the tangles with his fingers. It feels nice and relaxing and you close your eyes. When you open them again, your gaze lands on Five and your eyes meet. Something about the way he is looking at you makes your face flush with embarrassment and you gently push Klaus’s hands away, laughing.

“Quit it,” you say lightly, even though under normal circumstances you love it when Klaus plays with your hair.

He takes a step back, unfazed, and goes to pour himself a cup of coffee. Five is still watching you and you have to avert your eyes just to think straight. You scoot your chair back and stand up, turning to Klaus.

“So, are we going or what?”

Klaus shrugs. “Sure, you buying?”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t I always?”

“Yes, you do. And then I pay you back in a much more physical way.”

“You realize that makes you sound like you’re prostituting yourself for breakfast foods.”

“I’ve done a lot worse for a lot less.”

You laugh and then you see Five get up and start to make his way out of the kitchen. “Five wait!”

He stops and turns to you, coffee cup still in hand, and eyes you up. “Yeah?”

“Come with us.”

“I don’t think so. You two toddlers go ahead.”

You frown and jut your hip out. “First of all, stop insulting us. Second, name one good reason you don’t want to come with us. I mean, you do eat, don’t you? Or do you survive solely on black coffee and sarcasm?”

You see that faint smile playing on Five’s lips again. The one that gives you a little flutter in your stomach when you see it; because you know you’re one of the few that can actually get him to break.

“Yes, I do eat. If surviving on coffee and sarcasm were a thing, it would have made my life in the apocalypse much easier.”

He’s kidding, but you still feel bad about your comment and you cringe a little at the mention of his traumatic past. Klaus, though, just waves a hand in the air dramatically.

“Come on, Fivey! What’s not to like about spending time with your favorite brother, while also getting some free waffles?”

“Pleeeaase?” you beg while batting your lashes exaggeratedly in Five’s direction.

After another annoyed eye roll and a huffy sigh, Five relents. “Fine! I will go to your stupid diner and eat your stupid waffles.”

“That a boy!” Klaus goes to slap Five on the back, but he has already blinked out of the kitchen.

“I hope it’s ok that I invited him?” you ask.

“Of course it’s ok. I can’t believe he said yes, though. I’ve been trying to get him out and socializing forever. It’s like you have a special magic touch with him. You’re like the Number Five Whisperer.”

You laugh. “Yeah, right. I think he just wanted breakfast.”

Klaus shakes his head. “No, really. I’ve seen him around you. He actually listens to you and isn’t mean.”

“He’s mean to me all the time!”

“Well, compared to what the rest of the world gets from him, that’s nothing. He once called me the human version of a shart.”

When you can’t help doubling over with laughter at that, Klaus puts a hand on his hip. “It was very hurtful.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s hilarious. Say what you want, but the man is funny. Whether he intends to be or not.”

“Just you wait. When he starts comparing you to shitting his pants, then we’ll see how funny you think he is.”

Once you are all showered and dressed, the three of you walk over to the diner for breakfast. You are planning on going directly to work from there, so you have your bag slung over your shoulder. The weight of it is evident by the way you’re slumped to one side while you lug it around, and Five eyes it curiously as you slide into a booth. You and Klaus are on one side while Five is across from you.

“What do you have in there? Bricks?” Five asks you as he picks up a menu.

“Yes. I carry around a bag full of bricks. One never knows when one might need to perform an emergency masonry job.”

You see Five’s lips purse together in a failed attempt at trying not to smile, avoiding your eyes by pretending to peruse the menu.

Klaus lets out a loud hoot of laughter and puts his arm around your shoulders. “Looks like you may have met your match in the snide comment department, Fivey.”

Five glances up and flicks a stray piece of hair off his face. “Doubtful. I am, and will always remain, the king of snide comments.”

You and Five exchange amused looks and you peer down at your own menu. A waitress comes to the table to take your orders and Klaus flashes her one of his beautiful smiles and you can see she is instantly smitten by him.

“A round of waffles and coffee for the table, please.” Klaus gestures to all three of you. “And make sure to give the bill to my sugar mama over here.”

The waitress gives you a funny look and you shrug with a smile before she wanders off to put in the order.

“Klaus!” Five hisses, leaning forward.

“What?”

“If you can’t pay for your own breakfast, I will. Don’t make her do it.”

Klaus looks genuinely taken aback. “Why? She offered.”

“Because it’s…” Five pauses and sighs and if you thought he was capable of embarrassment that might have been what he was conveying. “…it’s not gentlemanly.”

You chew on your bottom lip and look down in your lap so that you don’t laugh, but also so that Five doesn’t see how completely shocked you are at this statement.

Klaus frowns at Five. “I forget sometimes that you’re an old coot under that sleek body of yours. Don’t be so old-fashioned, Fivey. The times they are a-changin’.” He turns to you. “Besides, am I nothing but a gentleman?”

They are both looking at you for some sort of response and you laugh nervously. “Yes, you are mostly a gentleman. And I don’t mind paying; I did offer.” Klaus looks smug and Five rolls his eyes. “However,” you point a finger at each of them, “neither one of you offered to carry my bag for me on the way here.”

You watch with satisfaction as both of their mouths hang open for a second before they realize they have nothing to say to that. Just then, the waitress comes by with your coffees and starts to set them down in front of you on the tabletop. As you smirk to yourself, you hear both men utter a soft “sorry” under their breath before taking a sip from their mugs.

Five clears his throat. “You never did answer me. What are you carrying around in there?”

You glance at the overstuffed tote bag next to you. “Well, some extra clothes and toiletries, but also my laptop and a bunch of notebooks and file folders. I’m applying for a large bank loan and need to make sure all of my ducks are in a row.”

“Oh, that’s right. You’re planning on buying your café.”

Klaus leans back against the booth. “Yeah, she’s cute and smart. Hey, another thing you two have in common!”

Five takes another drink and mutters over his mug. “I am not cute.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Klaus looks thoughtful as he scans Five up and down. “You’ve got more of that angry, smoldering, sex god look about you.”

“Shut up, Klaus.”

“He’s right,” you hear yourself saying and your cheeks immediately burn when you realize you said it out loud. You notice Five’s face reddens a little as well when he looks at you in surprise.

Klaus is oblivious and he clinks his coffee mug against yours in a toasting gesture. “See? Everyone thinks so. Now, the next step is to share some of that super sexiness with another human being and not just your fist.”

With his face still flushed, Five clenches his jaw even tighter. “Shut. Up. Klaus.”

“I know it’s convenient and doesn’t require you to leave the house, but choking the old chicken doesn’t replace the need for human contact. It’s nice to flog your log once in a while, but you need to branch out. Let someone else take Fivey Junior for a spin. Know what I mean?”

You are certain you are about to witness a murder firsthand as you watch Five pick up his butter knife in a clenched fist, leaning dangerously close to his brother across the table, when the waitress comes back with your food. As she plunks down the plates in front of everyone, Klaus continues to dig his own grave.

“Hey there,” he squints at the waitress’ name tag, “Sandra. What do you think of my brother over here?”

Sandra looks visibly uncomfortable as she glances from Klaus’s beaming face to Five’s murderous one and back again.

“I’m sorry?”

“On a scale of one to ten, with one being you would not bang him if he were the last man on earth, to ten being you want to jump his brittle old bones right here in this diner booth, how would you rate him?”

You sink down in your seat and close your eyes, thinking that maybe if you aren’t actually looking when Five rams that knife through Klaus’s neck, you won’t have to answer too many questions from the cops. You risk opening one eye a slit and you can see Five fuming, nostrils flared and neck veins bulging. The poor waitress is not sure what to do as she stands there awkwardly, so you decide to jump in.

You laugh theatrically. “He’s just kidding! I bet him $20 to say that. I’m sorry…I didn’t think he’d actually do it.”

Sandra relaxes a little and sighs with relief. “Oh, ok. No worries. Enjoy your meal.”

As she walks away, you turn to Klaus with a glare.

“What?” he asks innocently.

“You’re terrible,” you tell him, disapprovingly.

“I’m trying to do the guy a favor and help him get his ex-assassin wiener wet!”

Suddenly, Five’s palm bangs on the table, making the plates and cutlery dance and clatter. You and Klaus both jump in your booth.

“I do not,” seethes Five, “need your help or anyone else’s for that matter.” He relaxes a bit, unclenching his jaw and rolling his shoulders back. His eyes pass over to you as he starts to cut into his waffle. One corner of his mouth curls up as he stabs a piece with his fork. “Fivey Junior is doing just fine, thank you,” he quips before taking a bite and giving you a quick wink.

Your stomach feels warm and fluttery all of a sudden and you let out a snort of laughter. The subject is dropped after that and Klaus eventually moves on to something else that involves his and Five’s apartment. Your mind wanders as you eat your food, staring into space as the two brothers chatter next to you. You didn’t mean for your mind to wander to that, but now that it was brought up, you find it front and center in your brain.

You find yourself wondering exactly what Five’s sexual situation is. You’ve never seen him with a woman, or a man, but he’s certainly good looking enough to get either one. Maybe his surly attitude turns people off? You know all about his unique situation, and so maybe he’s never had the opportunity to be with anyone else in that way. You steal a glance over at him, noticing the way the tendons in his forearms tighten and relax as he gestures while he talks and that warm feeling is back.

I wonder what kind of package he’s working with in those pants of his? He’s not a huge guy, but he sure as hell carries himself like he’s got a giant schlong. I would not be surprised if he was packing some serious equipment in there. I bet it could do some real damage…all that anger has to go somewhere. And I bet he knows how to use it, too. Probably could bang you right through a fucking wall –"

“Think twelve inches is too big?”

You drop your fork onto your plate with a loud clang as Five’s question snaps you out of your perverted daydream. Your face is suddenly very hot.

“What?” you ask in a wide-eyed panic.

Five and Klaus both give you a weird look.

“The shelving unit to put under the bathroom sink, remember I was telling you about them the other day? What do you think about the size?” Klaus explains.

“Oh, right. Uh…I don’t know,” you stammer.

Five turns back to Klaus. “It might be a little tight but I bet I could make it fit. Probably have to shove it in there really good, though.”

At that, you dissolve in a burst of nervous laughter that has the other two looking at you like you’ve lost your mind. You can’t stop laughing, though, and you cover your mouth with your hand while your body shakes uncontrollably.

Five and Klaus exchange confused glances. “Ok…weird,” Klaus says before going back to his waffles.

After a good thirty seconds of hyperventilating, you finally calm down enough and you wipe the tears from your eyes.

Five points a fork at you. “What the hell was that?”

You shake your head, suppressing another round of laughter. “Nothing, I was just thinking of something from earlier. You had to be there.”

“Clearly.”

After a few more minutes of silence, Klaus turns to you. “I know you’ve been worried about this loan and making sure you have everything in order. I’m no good at that kind of thing, but our boy Cinco over here probably is. Maybe he can look things over for you.”

“Oh!” You turn to Five. “Really? You’re good with finances and all that?”

“I’m good at everything, so by default I’m also good at finances,” he answers offhandedly, not looking up from his plate.

“Oh, right, silly me. I forgot, you’re a goddamn genius.”

He looks up and nods without a hint of irony. “Correct. I am.”

You roll your eyes. “Ok, never mind, sorry I asked.”

“Alright, don’t get all huffy. If you want me to look things over, I can do that.”

“Well, if it’s not cutting too much into your time of sucking your own dick, then that would be great.”

Klaus lets out a loud laugh and Five raises one eyebrow as he leans back and drapes his arm over the back of the booth with a smirk. “I think I can pencil you in somewhere.” He picks up his coffee mug, stopping just before he takes a drink. “Incidentally, that would have been another skill I could have used during those solitary years. But, alas, as brilliant as I am, I found I lack the flexibility.”

You bite at the inside of your cheek to stifle your laughter. “There’s a visual I don’t need.”

Klaus nearly chokes on his food. “Holy shit, did you actually try that? I’m not saying I haven’t myself, but I just didn’t think you…well, I guess there were a lot of lonely hours to kill, so like what did you try first? Rolling up in a ball, or –"

You slap a hand over his mouth. “Ok then! I can see this conversation is headed in a very weird direction, so I am just going to excuse myself and head to work now.”

After you gather up your bag, Klaus gets up to let you out of the booth. As you hoist the heavy tote over your shoulder, you address Five. “If you really are serious, I would be glad to have your help.”

“I was serious.”

“Thank you. Would you be available later today around 4? You can come by the café. I’ll even make you some coffee.”

“Sure. See you then.”

You give him a smile and then turn to Klaus. “See you later?”

“Absolutely. I’ll be around.”

Klaus leans down to kiss you, which is nothing out of the ordinary of course, but you feel weird being so affectionate in front of Five and you break the kiss off quicker than normal. You say goodbye to them both and as you go to leave, Klaus gives you a slap on the ass. When you turn to give him a fake scowl, you catch Five looking at you. He’s watching you with that intense look of his that you still have trouble reading the meaning behind. Whatever it is, though, you’re finding that you kind of like it.

Chapter Two: Fivey Junior

As I leave the diner and Klaus goes off to do whatever the hell Klaus does, I stand on the sidewalk outside for a minute or two. My hands in my pants pockets, I lean up against the building and close my eyes, taking a deep breath. What the fuck am I doing?

It’s true I wanted nothing to do with her in the beginning. I’m tired of having to deal with Klaus’s random friends and whatever stray he decides to bring home for a week or two. They usually end up making a mess, drinking all of my good beer, and eating my Grape Nuts cereal. But then they are eventually gone and he moves on to the next one. Men and women. Sometimes both at the same time. It’s exhausting just watching him and I honestly have no idea how he does it. I’m definitely too old for that shit. Meanwhile, though, I have to live with it.

So, when she showed up, I could not have cared less. Just add it to the long line of other free loaders. But then she stuck around longer than usual. She was there most mornings and most nights. I couldn’t turn around without finding another stupid pink hair tie of hers and there was suddenly strawberry scented shampoo in the shower. According to Klaus things were not serious between them, but he liked having her around and apparently she felt the same about him.

Then, that day she grabbed my arm and accused me of being a mean old man, well I may have shifted my opinion of her just slightly. No one ever challenges me and they certainly never grab me like that. Not without a serious death wish, anyway. But when she did it, I don’t know why, but I didn’t mind. I hadn’t spent enough time around her to really study her up close, but once she was in my face, calling me rude, I could see the little speckles in her eyes. And see how pink her lips were and smell that strawberry shampoo. When I shook her hand, it felt soft and warm.

It was like she made it a personal mission of hers to wear me down, and I have to admit it really fucking worked. She’s nice and bubbly and sunshiny all the time, and that should be the most irritating goddamn thing in the world, but for some reason it’s not. She also calls me out on my bullshit, which no one ever does, outside of my family, and so I have to admire her for that.

That morning when she made me coffee for the first time, that sealed the deal. Not because it was damn good coffee, because it was. It was that she genuinely wanted to talk to me. I have no idea why; she wasn’t wrong when she called me rude before. Still, as much as I didn’t mind the company, I wasn’t going to put too much effort in. I figured she’d be gone soon enough.

The days that followed, though, she was still there. And now every morning I meet her in the kitchen and we sit and chat and drink our coffee. And it’s nice. Nice enough that I make sure to get up extra early every day just to have that time with her to myself. She’s intelligent and funny, and almost as much of a sarcastic smart-ass as myself.

She’s beautiful, too. I can’t stop watching her any time she’s around me. Whatever she’s doing, I’m mesmerized and I have to remind myself to stop staring like a creep. I like the way she moves with confidence around me and the way she gestures with her hands when she talks. I like her voice in the morning when it’s still a little raspy from sleep. I try not to look at the rest of her body, because I know she’s technically too young for me and I’m being a gross old man, but fuck, she is sexy. I know why Klaus likes her. She really is fucking delightful.

This morning I really didn’t want to get breakfast. After I saw Klaus stroking her hair like that, the last thing I wanted to do was see more of the two of them shoved in my face. When she berated me for not going, though, I had a hard time saying no again. She seems to be able to do that to me. But then what just happened back there in the diner? Was I flirting ? Did I actually wink at her while talking about my dick? Holy shit, did I just tell her I tried to suck my own dick? Yes. Yes, I did.

I drop my head back on the brick building, hard, and groan. What is wrong with me? I am a grown ass man. I am not some love-struck teenager with a hard on for every girl that looks in my direction. I do not pine for women. And let’s not gloss over the fact that she’s dating Klaus, my actual brother. They might not be serious, but that’s a pretty shitty thing to do. Fuck, I need to get a life.

And now, because Klaus is completely oblivious and also apparently thinks I have too much free time on my hands, I am committed to seeing her again today. Of course I don’t mind helping her and I’m happy to do it, but I’m nervous just thinking about it. Why should I be, though? It’s just us talking over coffee like we have been for several mornings now. The only thing different is that it will be in an outside location. At her coffee shop. Just the two of us, no Klaus. Almost like… I swear to god if you even entertain that idea right now… date.

“God fucking fuck damn it FUCK!” I yell out loud on the street while I kick at the brick wall with my good shoes, scuffing them up in the process.

Several people are looking at me like I’m an insane person and a couple of them are crossing the street to get away from the raving lunatic trying to beat up a building. To avoid the concerned stares, I blink away and reappear a few streets over. I might as well keep walking, maybe that will clear my head and stop with all these ridiculous thoughts.

It’s a nice day, at least, and I end up at a park, taking a seat on a bench as I wallow in my own self-pity. There’s an older man on the bench next to me, reaching into a bag of bread and throwing the crumbs out to the pigeons gathering around his feet. He looks over at me and I give him a nod of approval, thinking that looks like a nice way to pass the time, but have you seen the price of bread these days? I lean forward and put my head in my hands, groaning out loud at myself while my pigeon friend gives me the side eye.

One thing that has started happening since she came along is that I sometimes forget my real age. I was at least able to age myself up by 8 years or so when we arrived in this timeline, thanks to some tricky time-math and a whole lot of luck, but I’m still well older than my body portrays me. It used to shock the hell out of me every time I’d pass by a mirror and see a stranger looking back at me. Then, after a while, I got used to it and I’m not going to complain; trading your broken old body in for a new model definitely has its perks. No more aching bones, tired muscles, or mysterious bruises that seem to appear out of nowhere. And I won’t get started on the new and improved libido, but suffice to say it’s a nice bonus.

Even though I have gotten used to the newer, younger me, I have never felt young mentally. I have remained the same stubborn old man that has resided in my head for decades now. It’s a weird contradiction to have the energy to stay out all night, yet still rather be at home catching up on this season’s Antiques Roadshow. But this is the first time in the last few years that I’ve started to feel more like my younger self. And maybe it’s because I don’t want to feel like a dirty old man, lusting after a woman more than half my age. That is definitely part of it, but the other part is that she just makes me forget. She makes me feel younger.

The hours are dragging by, but I still don’t feel like going home, so I continue to wander around. I come to the conclusion that I am being a selfish, delusional bastard and I just need to cut it out. If I really think about it and start psychoanalyzing myself, there’s a clear reason why I’m having all of these misdirected feelings. It’s obvious that my years of solitude have left me ill equipped when it comes to forming human relationships. In my still-infantile mind, a simple friendship between a man and woman has manifested itself into something more, because it doesn’t know the difference. The chemicals in my brain are confused and don’t know when and how to release themselves at the appropriate times.

I know that dopamine, serotonin, and norepinephrine are produced upon initial attraction to another person, and that oxytocin is released when you presume you are in love. Everyone knows that. So, it’s obvious that I just need to reprogram my brain so that it is not confusing mutual amicability with something more. As usual, if you approach something from a scientific aspect and remove emotions from the equation, problems become much easier to solve. Simple science makes everything so much clearer.

It’s finally close to 4pm when I’m supposed to meet her at the café, so I start making my way over there. I have a new outlook on this meeting now. I am happy to look over her finances and make any suggestions that I see could be helpful. If she asks for my opinion, I’ll give it. Then, I will take my leave, go home, and continue on with my life. No more of this internal longing bullshit.

Then I arrive there and…well, fuck. So much for science.

I am standing outside of the café looking in through the windows and I can see her in there. She’s standing next to one of the tables, talking with another woman who is sitting down with a mug in front of her. I obviously can’t hear her, but I watch as her face breaks into a beautiful smile and she laughs. A laugh I can hear in my mind because I’ve memorized it. She crosses her arms over her chest, which squeezes her breasts together and accentuates her cleavage. When she finishes her conversation and walks back towards the counter at the front, my eyes travel down to her round butt bouncing along in the tight jeans she’s wearing.

“Excuse me.”

I am snapped out of my voyeuristic weirdness by an annoyed voice belonging to a woman behind me. Apparently, I’m blocking the doorway and she would like to enter the building. I open the door for her and she walks past me while I try to get a grip. I follow the woman inside and up to the counter.

When she sees me, she smiles and I automatically shove my hands in my pockets to try and portray an air of casualness.

“Hey there, Fivey,” she says with a big shit-eating grin.

I shake my head and attempt to look mad. “Do not call me that. It’s bad enough Klaus does.”

“It’s so cute, though! It’s like his little pet name for you.”

“I’m not sure why my idiot brother feels the need to make my name even weirder than it already is.”

She snorts out a laugh and then bites her bottom lip, and honestly both of those things are going to send me through the roof, she’s so fucking cute.

“Ok, so no nickname, fair enough. Still willing to help me out?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

She turns away, but not before I see an eyeroll, as she grabs a coffee cup and fills it up, handing it over the counter to me.

“Here you are. One free coffee. As promised.”

“Thanks. I can pay for it though, you don’t really have to give it to me.”

“No please, just take it. I promise I won’t think you are ungentlemanly for it,” she says with a small smile and I can see she’s obviously teasing me about my comment in the diner earlier.

“You make fun of me, but one of the perks of being with an older man is that we know how to take care of our ladies.”

It just came out of my mouth without thinking and I can feel my face getting hot. I’m just praying that she can’t see me blushing. What the hell is going on with me?

“Oh, is that so? I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, then,” she says with a flirty tone.

I have no idea what to say next without sounding like a complete asshole, so I just don’t say anything and instead take a sip of my coffee.

She clears her throat. “Well, let me go grab my stuff and we can sit down at one of the tables.”

She disappears into the back for a minute, returning with her heavy looking tote bag from earlier. I follow her over to a small two-top table and we sit across from one another. As she fishes around in her bag and unloads her laptop and some file folders, I watch as a lock of hair falls in front her face and all I can think about is reaching over and tucking it behind her ear. Obviously, I do not do this.

I look over all of her financial information and everything looks like it’s in order. When I start asking about something I’m reading on her laptop, she gets annoyed that she can’t see the screen well, and so she comes around to my side of the table, sitting directly next to me. I can smell that strawberry shampoo again and our legs brush together. I swallow nervously.

“I think everything looks good here. Your credit scores are high, you have no debts, and you’re asking for a reasonable amount. I don’t really see why they would deny you.”

“Do you think so? I know it’s stupid, but I’m so nervous! The meeting with the bank is tomorrow morning.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“It’s just…if I don’t get this loan I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’ve put so much into this place, I already feel like it’s my own. But I’m not going to work as a coffee shop manager for the rest of my life. I at least want to be a business owner. You know, something I can be proud of.”

I nod. “I think you should be proud of yourself no matter what.”

She scoffs a little. “Ok, thanks Dad,” she says sarcastically.

Just like that, I come crashing down to reality as I’m reminded who I really am. I am not a 20-something year old. I am old enough to be her actual dad. And while that really has no bearing on anything, considering nothing is going to happen between us anyway, it’s still a kick in the nuts. She must see it on my face, because I see her cringe.

“That was a joke. I don’t actually think of you as a dad.”

“I know.” My voice is clipped as I try to hide my embarrassment.

She leans into me and bumps my shoulder with hers in a friendly gesture. “Thank you. For helping me with this.”

“You didn’t need my help. You’ve got this.”

“Well, thank you anyway. And thank you for putting up with me. I know I annoy you by always hanging around your place.”

"It’s true, you are a giant pain in the ass,” I say with a smile. “But, as giant pains in the asses go, you’re not so bad.”

“Aw…thanks Fivey!”

She laughs at my irritated face, which I am only making to keep up the façade. She can call me anything she wants, really. I don’t mind.

I am sitting at home the next afternoon, when she comes bursting through the door of the apartment. She's absolutely bouncing up and down with glee and when she sees Klaus she runs over to him and he picks her up in a big bear hug. She has on what I assume to be her business attire from her bank meeting, and I can’t stop staring. It’s a tight pencil skirt with a short, fitted blazer on top and black high heels. When Klaus lifts her up, her jacket pulls up in the back and I am treated to a very small window of her bare skin just above the waist of her skirt. I’m not sure if I want to look there, or down a little bit lower to wear the material is hugging her hips and ass.

“I got it!” she shrieks and kisses Klaus before he sets her down again.

“That’s great, babe!” he tells her.

Then she turns to me, as I stand there staring like a dope. Before I know it she has her arms wrapped around me and my face is covered by her hair as she hooks her chin over my shoulder. I don’t know what to do, I’m practically paralyzed with shock. I can’t even bring my arms up to hug her back, so they just stay limply at my sides. I take a breath and close my eyes, inhaling the scent of her hair and skin. She lets go of me and steps back and my immediate impulse is to pull her right back into me again. But I don’t. Instead, I just continue doing nothing.

“I cannot thank you enough, Five. You helped me do this.”

“I…I really didn’t do anything.”

“Well, you gave me the confidence I needed and made me feel like I knew what I was doing before I went in there. So, thank you. Really.”

She is smiling so genuinely and sweetly at me and I just can’t believe she is giving me any credit for anything. But I figure if I keep putting off her compliments she’ll get annoyed, so instead, I get weird and flustered.

“Yeah, well, you’re welcome. No problem.” I look from her to Klaus and back again. “Alright, well I’m going to leave you two dimwits to yourselves. See you later.” Then I blink away before either of them can respond.

It’s the next morning and I wake up early, but I don’t get up to meet her for coffee this time. I can’t keep torturing myself like this and pretending we have some sort of connection is just sad and pathetic. The truth is, she is with Klaus right now. Maybe they aren’t technically in a committed relationship, but she’s here in the apartment because of him, not me. And because they supposedly aren’t serious, that also means they will eventually tire of one another and one day she just won’t be here anymore. And it makes me fucking sick to even think about it.

Instead, I start thinking about her running into Klaus’s arms and kissing him yesterday. I hate how much that bothered me. I hate how much I wanted that to be me. I’m lying here in my bed, alone, and all I can think about is lifting her up in my arms, her body pressed to mine as she kisses me. It’s so fucking pathetic and yet, I can’t stop. I replay it over and over in my mind; her smile and her lips and the adorable way she would squeak if I squeezed her to me.

Soon, my pathetic little daydream has evolved into something much dirtier than a hug and kiss. I think about how her tits would feel pressed up against my chest. About how her firm ass would feel under my hands. And how badly I want her legs wrapped around my waist.

I groan sadly and palm my erection through my underwear. Fuck. Rather than sit and jerk off in my bed, I decide I should just head to the shower and kills two birds with one stone. The bathroom is directly across from my bedroom and I make the quick blink over so that I won’t have the humiliating experience of bumping into the person that’s responsible for my boner problem in the first place.

In the shower, my imagination runs wild. I obviously have never seen her naked, but I can certainly conjure up an image in my head that I decide is probably pretty close. I picture her straddling me, my cock deep inside of her, while she fucks me hard and fast. Those tits that I’ve only seen the outlines of through her t-shirts are bouncing up and down in front of my face and, Jesus Chris, it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. My hand is acting as a sad substitute for her tight cunt as I lean my head on my hand against the wall and close my eyes.

I imagine her moaning my name as she throws her head back and works her hips harder and faster on top of me. I can feel her soft flesh as my fingers dig into her sides and push her down; all the while thrusting my own hips up because I can’t get enough. As a final act of delusion, I throw her off of me and flip her over. I pound into her from behind, listening as she cries and sobs from the intensity of it all. I hear her pleading, telling me she’s sorry for ever wanting anyone else but me; that it will only be me from now on. I urge her on as I penetrate her harder, demanding she fucks only me from now on. She is mine and I’ll be goddamned if anyone else is going to touch her from here on out.

I’m only yours, Five…you’re all I want…all I need. I love—

“Hey, Klaus, have you seen my…Oh shit!”

The sound of her voice in real life has me floundering, trying to remember what the fuck is going on, and I turn around just in time to see her horrified face which mirrors mine. Our eyes lock for what has to be a fraction of a second, but feels like an eternity, and I see her glance briefly downward and then back up again.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” she stammers, before quickly closing the shower curtain with a flourish.

I don’t know what to say or do, and there’s no time to do it anyway, as I stand there with my eyes wide and my dick in my hands. I hear the bathroom door slam shut and I’m left alone again. If I have felt shameful or embarrassed about any of my actions in the past, they are nothing compared with what I’m feeling now.

I want to die. I want to dissolve into liquid form and slip down the drain, washing away with all the other filth and disappearing into the sewers. I quickly contemplate my options. I’m a smart guy, I can come up with something. I could blink away and never return to this apartment ever again. Klaus might wonder what happened to me, but eventually he’d get over it. After all, it’s not the first time I’ve vanished without a trace. I could try some serious time travel again, maybe jumping backwards this time. Give the 1800s a try; live out the rest of my days doing something mundane like a blacksmith or a chimney sweep.

Instead, I just stand there, the shame and embarrassment washing over me. The most fucked up thing is that I’m still hard. I saw her face and her shock and it still didn’t dissuade my traitorous hormones. I need to finish and I’m horrified at the thought. Not horrified enough, though, because I start stroking myself again. I keep picturing her in my mind, even though I know she knows what I am doing and maybe that’s part of why I like it.

In some psychotic part of my brain, I like that she saw me jerking off. She doesn’t know that it was her I was thinking of, but I can start to convince myself that she might like it. She might like that I was fucking my hand to images of her naked body on top of mine. She might actually be flattered that I’m thinking of her riding me hard and fast and violently. That I’m imagining her moaning my name and coming around my cock.

A few more seconds of vigorous self-pleasuring and my hand is stilling as I unleash ropes of cum over my stomach and onto the shower floor. It mixes with the water and rushes down the drain as my eyes clench tightly shut and I groan as quietly as I can through gritted teeth. It’s bad enough she saw me in here, she doesn’t need to hear me, too.

After I am milked dry, and my breathing starts to slow again, I let go of my shrinking dick and wash myself off. I feel like the loser of the century. She’s probably out there right now, telling Klaus all about it and laughing. They’re probably discussing how sad I am and how much I really need to get a life. And they’d be right.

Once I’m cleaned off and dressed again, I listen closely from inside my room, trying to determine if she’s still here or not. After a while, I still haven’t heard signs of anyone else, and I figure the coast is clear. I blink out of my room and head towards the kitchen. I need a fucking drink and I don’t even care that it’s still morning. Anything to help erase this horrifying feeling.

In the kitchen, I’m looking through the cupboard where we keep the booze, trying to decide if it’s a vodka or a whiskey kind of morning, when I hear soft foot-steps and a gentle clearing of a throat. Fuck. Can I just get a fucking break once in a while? My spine stiffens and I think of just blinking out of there without even turning around, but then she starts talking to me.

“Hey, so…I am so sorry for busting in on you like that. Klaus had said he was going to take a shower, so I just assumed that was him in there, and I was looking for my slippers that I thought I left in the bathroom, and that was really stupid of me to just assume that…I am really very sorry, I would never have, if I had known it was you, obviously I wouldn’t have, but like I said, I thought it was Klaus, and…ugh…I’m sorry. I hope this isn’t going to make things weird.”

I almost laugh at her run-on sentence of stammering apologies. Almost. Instead, I grab a bottle of vodka and turn around with a glare.

“So, when exactly are you leaving?”

She hesitates. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, when are you getting the fuck out of here? I realize you and Klaus are having fun playing house or whatever the fuck it is you do around here, but this is my apartment, too. In fact, it’s more mine than his, since I pay the bulk of the rent. And I don’t remember asking for a third roommate.”

I see a brief look of hurt cross her face before she is challenging back. “Look, just because I accidentally walked in on you, doesn’t mean you have to be an asshole about it. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed? I’m not embarrassed, sweetheart, so don't flatter yourself. And this has nothing to do with that. I’m just wondering when I can look forward to not seeing your face every time I turn around in my own goddamn house!”

She nods, her lips pursed together, and her hands on her hips. “Alright, Five, you win. I thought maybe we were beginning to be friends, but I can see that is not the case. I will do my best to stay out of your way. I’m sorry for any inconveniences I’ve caused you.”

After another few seconds of angry glaring, she turns around and leaves. I take the stopper out of the vodka and tip the entire bottle back, swallowing at least three full gulps before I can’t take the burning in my throat and stomach anymore. I don’t know why I’m like this. I don’t know why I have to be a fucking dick to everyone, especially the people I care about. Well, I guess I should look on the bright side. I won’t have to worry about letting my true feelings out around her. Because now she wants nothing to do with me.

Chapter Three: Crazy Train

It was bad, there was no mistaking it. And it was all your fault; at least the beginning part. You certainly hadn’t meant to walk in on him in the shower. You really had assumed it was Klaus in there. You had been wrong. Very, very wrong. So, yeah, you really fucked that one up.

Things had been going so well, too. You were actually getting along and finding that you really liked spending time with Five. You assumed he liked spending time with you, too, even though he never came right out and said so. Although, with him, you doubted he would ever admit to that. But you knew he did, otherwise he wouldn’t have bothered even speaking to you, let alone hanging out with you.

Even though you’re the one who did the unannounced shower barge-in, you still think he’s overreacting. Sure, you saw him completely naked, but it was only for a couple of seconds and it’s not like you haven’t seen a naked man before. And sure, you are like 99% positive he was banging out some knuckle babies while he was in there, but that part is not your fault. How were you to know there would be some salami slapping going on in there when you opened the curtain?

Now he’s pissed off at you and has gone back to his old, dickish ways. He’s barely acknowledging you anymore and he stopped coming into the kitchen for coffee in the mornings. You understand he’s probably embarrassed, but he should be able to get over it, for fuck’s sake. He’s always claiming he’s the mature one around here, but he sure as hell isn’t acting like it right now.

You definitely think he should be able to move on from that little incident, but you can’t seem to stop thinking about it, either. Although, not for the same reasons. It had only been a couple of seconds if that, but that image has been burned into your brain. And not necessarily in a bad way. In that tiny glimpse that you got, it did not disappoint.

You keep finding yourself staring off, lost in another inappropriate daydream, as you remember exactly what he had looked like. Wet, naked, and clearly aroused, it was enough of a picture to keep you occupied. If men have spank banks, what do you call it for women? Rub hub? Finger vault? Whatever it is, that image is in yours now. And, fuck, it’s a good one.

Klaus has an amazing body, there’s no doubt about that. He’s lithe and toned and has a cinched-in waist that you’re envious of. But when you saw Five’s body…holy shit. He’s a little more solid than Klaus, and his muscles are well-defined but not huge. His chest is smooth and firm, and his abs look like they’re cut from stone, all the way down to the soft line of hair trailing southward to the main event. From the quick peek you had gotten of the goods in his hand, he either somehow used his powers to beef himself up, or that may have been the one thing in his tragic life that he lucked out on. Because, damn. Combine that with a tight ass, the water cascading down his body, and his dark, wet hair pushed off his face, and that is definitely enough to give you some material for the next time you’re double-clicking your mouse.

It's a week after “the incident”, and you have just come back from work and it’s late. You haven’t been over to see Klaus in a few days because you’ve been so busy, but you decide to stop by because you know he’ll still be up. Plus, you’re feeling the need to get some sexual release that isn’t in the form of your hand or vibrator, and you know he’ll be up for that, too.

You don’t see Five anywhere, which is probably a good thing, and you and Klaus hang out in the living room for a while, having a couple of drinks and catching up. When you decide to head to the bedroom, that’s when Five makes his presence known. Loudly.

Mid-make out and partially undressed, the two of you hear the pounding bass and blaring guitar riff of AC/DC’s “Back in Black” coming from Five’s bedroom. He is blasting it at full volume and as much as you like listening to Brian Johnson scream at the top of his lungs, it’s not really setting the mood at the moment. You ignore it for a little while longer, trying to focus on Klaus’s hands working their way down between your legs. When it’s clear you’re not really into it, he stops.

“What’s wrong?”

You huff. “Seriously? Isn’t this annoying you, too?”

Klaus shrugs. “I don’t know, it’s not that bad. I like loud music, and Five has good taste.”

“Well, it’s distracting and you know he’s doing it on purpose. It’s just rude.”

“Just ignore it.”

He pulls you on top of him, and you straddle his waist. But when you lean down to kiss him again, it’s clear you are not going to be able to get your mind in the game; not with the walls shaking from the constant pulse of the mini-rock concert going on down the hall. You let out another frustrated growl.

“I’m going to go say something,” you tell Klaus, pushing yourself off of him.

He props himself up on his elbows. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

You roll your eyes. “Please. What’s he doing to do? I’m not scared of him.”

“Right, no, I know. Me either. But…”

“But, what?”

“You know, he’s just…testy.”

As you’re getting off the bed, you give Klaus an exasperated look. “He’s a big man baby is what he is. And I’m tired of his shit.”

Before Klaus can say anything more, you’re walking out the door and heading to the source of the music. The song has now switched over to “Crazy Train”. You pound on the door to Five’s room, waiting with your arms folded across your chest. That’s when you remember you are not wearing a bra. Or pants. You only have a loose-fitting t-shirt on and some ridiculous underwear with cartoon cats on them because you haven’t done laundry in a while and all your good panties are in the wash. Luckily, the shirt covers up most of your crotch area.

You’re not getting an answer, so you pound the door with your fist again. Mid-pound, the door swings open wide, the blaring music becoming even louder. Five is already in the middle of a rant.

“Klaus, I have told you a thousand fucking times, I do not have your lighter…oh.”

Five stops mid-sentence when he realizes it’s you. He’s standing there shirtless, with only his black pants on, belt unbuckled and hanging open. His hair is disheveled, and he seems to be swaying slightly; holding onto the door for balance. That’s when you notice he has a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand. He looks at you for a second, his hooded eyes slowly moving over your body with his mouth partially open before his face changes and he smirks.

He takes another swig of whiskey from the bottle before addressing you. “Something I can help you with, princess?”

You’re stunned into silence for a beat or two, trying to process the fact that you are once again blessed with another glimpse of his body, as well as the fact that he is drunk. You hesitate with your mouth hanging open like a moron, which Five obviously notices because he has that damn arrogant look on his face again. Finally, you snap out of it.

“Is there a reason you’re blaring your music that loud right now?” you demand.

“Yeah, there is. Because it’s my fucking room and I can do what I want in it.”

“God, you are such a dick! I know you’re doing it on purpose just to piss me off.”

Five shakes his head slowly and takes another drink. “Sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart, but not everything is about you. Pissing you off in the process is a definite perk, though.”

You ball your hands up at your side and grit your teeth. “I’m not buying any of your bullshit, Five. I know you’re mad at me, and that’s fine. But you’re acting like a fucking child right now!”

“I think you’re mistaken. I’m not the one who can’t stand to be alone for more than a few hours. I’m not the one that needs constant attention and validation from someone. So who’s the child now, hmm?”

“What are you talking about? I do not.”

He grins. “Oh yeah? Want to tell me what you’re doing here all the time then? Why you’re here when you have a perfectly good apartment of your own to go to? ‘Cause I bet it’s not because of my brother.”

That throws you off a little and you don’t immediately have a comeback. Five snorts derisively. You narrow your eyes.

“Fuck you!” you spit out.

Five raises an eyebrow and lets out a short laugh. “Ohhh…maybe that’s why you’re always here. Well, sorry, honey. Hate to disappoint you, but you’re not my type.”

With your own sarcastic smile, you shoot back. “I know I’m not, honey. From what I’ve seen, I’m guessing you prefer to take matters into your own hands if you know what I’m saying.” That seems to have shut him up and he stands there, clinging to the door frame with his hair hanging in his face. Before you let him think of another comeback you give him a tiny wave and turn around. “I’ll leave you and Mr. Daniels to it, then. Remember, Fivey, don’t go too hard at it. I hear carpal tunnel is a real bitch.”

As you walk away, you hear the door slam behind you. You’re irritated and pissed off. And now you are horny. How the fuck is that possible? Well, there’s a good solution for that, and it’s waiting in the other room for you. You stalk over to Klaus’s room, making sure to leave the door slightly ajar. Klaus is still on the bed on his back and he’s lit up a joint in the process. When he sees you enter, he sits up.

“Oh, good, you’re alive. How did that go?”

“Great,” you say under your breath.

Then you are pulling your shirt over your head and yanking your underwear off. You immediately climb onto the bed and over the top of Klaus, grabbing the joint and tossing it into the ashtray at the side of the bed. He’s shocked when instead of saying anything, you lean down, grabbing his face in both hands and forcefully kissing him. After a moment his hands are on your hips and he’s smiling against your mouth.

“That’s more like it,” he says before you’re devouring his mouth again.

You don’t want to talk and you don’t need any more foreplay. You just want to fuck. Hard and rough, and loud. Luckily, Klaus is already pretty fired up and you can feel him hard underneath you as you straddle him. He still has his briefs on, so you hastily tug them off. If he’s wondering why you’re all of a sudden trying to mount him like a wild dog in heat, he doesn’t say anything. He seems pretty happy when you line yourself up and sink onto his dick, letting it fill you up in one shove. You let out a whine before looking down at him.

“I want to fuck. Hard,” you tell him in between gasping breaths.

“Yeah, baby, fuck me as hard as you want,” he rasps before smacking your ass and giving you a sly smile.

“Don’t talk. Just fuck,” you instruct him.

He obviously doesn’t care that you’re ordering him around, because his hands are on your tits as you start riding him fast and hard. You don’t even work up to it, you’re just pounding yourself onto his cock and you can already feel the beads of sweat starting to form on your skin. You’ve never been this worked up in your life, and you have no idea why. That’s not true; you know exactly why. You just don’t want to admit it, even to yourself.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you work as hard as you can, thrusting your hips back and forth and grunting with the effort. Throwing your head back, you cry out as loudly as you can, practically screaming at the top of your lungs. If the neighbors can hear you, it probably sounds like you’re being murdered to the soundtrack of Ozzy Osbourne right now. You’re making as much noise as possible; crying, wailing, and begging for more. And it’s all on purpose because you want a certain someone to know what he’s missing out on. Klaus is either shocked into submission by your sudden change in demeanor, or he’s in heaven. Either way, he’s not saying anything.

With your eyes closed, and no voice attached to the body you’re penetrating yourself with, you start to imagine what you’ve been trying to push out of your mind. You might hate him at the moment and think he’s a total asshole, but that doesn’t mean you don’t want to climb on top of him like a spider monkey and fuck his brains out.

In your mind, it’s not Klaus anymore, it’s Five. And you want more of him, even though that’s not physically possible. You run your hands down his perfect chest and abdomen, clutching at his thighs as you lean back to get a different angle. He’s watching you with those piercing eyes, looking up at you with that damn smirk of his.

“That’s right baby, fuck Daddy hard.”

Whoa, Daddy? Where the fuck did that come from? Shit, I have some real problems.

There’s no time to dwell on that psychological component because you just can’t get enough. His hands are on your hips and then on your ass, long fingers gripping tightly into you and pushing you even further down onto his cock. You’re still crying out, moaning loudly while you lean down to kiss him. You can feel his hand in your hair and his lips pressed against yours as you continue to rock into him.

“You feel so good, sweetheart. Don’t stop,” he’s saying in that husky voice of his.

“I need more,” you’re pleading and he laughs at you.

“Tell Daddy what you want, darling.”

Fuck, what is happening to me?

You don’t know what’s happening to you, other than you’re so fucking wet, you feel like you’re going to slide right off of Klaus’s dick and onto the floor. You open your eyes, stop your crazy thrusts, and abruptly climb off. Klaus lets out a hiss at the sudden loss of your warm, wet walls clenched around him.

“Fuck me from behind,” you pant, even as you’re already getting into position on your hands and knees.

“Shit,” he’s murmuring under his breath, but he doesn’t argue.

You feel him behind you and the anticipation is driving you crazy. When he slams into you, hips smacking against your ass and his hands pulling you backward hard and fast, you let out a sound that might be close to a sob. Your fists clench the bedsheets and from this angle, you don’t have to keep your eyes closed to slip back into your imaginary sex fantasy.

Five is behind you, plowing you so forcibly that it’s hard to keep yourself steady. It feels so fucking good, and everything you’ve been wanting. You don’t know how he’s weaseled his way into your head like this, but it probably has something to do with that goddamn body of his. Or his impossibly handsome face. Or those hands. Fuck, you want those hands on you and in you, and doing whatever else he pleases with them.

“Tell me,” he demands as he rams into you over and over again. “Tell me what you want. Let me give it to you.”

“Oh god…please…don’t stop fucking me!”

You’re not even sure if you said that out loud or not, but it doesn’t matter. His hand comes around to finger you while he rails you as hard as possible. You’re going to lose it any second now, you can feel it. His fingers are pressing against your clit and he continues talking to you inside your head; telling you everything you are dying to hear.

“You like it when Daddy fucks you like this, don’t you? When I fuck you so hard you can’t think straight?”

“Yes…yes,” you’re whining over and over again.

His hands are working their magic while his impressive cock is driving into your pussy. No one has made your body react like this before and you want to cry from the sheer overload of emotions.

“Let me hear you, sweet girl. You know what you want.”

“I want you! Oh fuck…you’re going to make me come,” you whimper.

“Say it again,” he snarls. “Say it again and scream my name when I make you come.”

“I want you! I want you so fucking badly. Please…keep fucking me…I need…oh god yes! Fii—fff-fuck!”

You catch yourself right at the last second as your orgasm rips through you, creating shocks of pleasure all throughout your body. Your muscles are contracting and your skin is hot and tingling. You are moaning like you are in pain and the sheets underneath you are balled tightly in your fists. There is a layer of sweat over your entire body and your breaths are coming out in ragged gasps. You are vaguely aware of Klaus behind you, gripping your hips while he lets loose with his own climax.

Several seconds pass while neither of you move. After a while, he pulls out and you fall onto your stomach, sprawled out and completely spent.

“Holy. Shit,” Klaus breathes out as he runs a hand down your back. “Where the hell did that come from?”

You laugh softly and push your hair out of your face. “I don’t know. I guess I was just a little wound up.”

“A little wound up? Shit, babe, I’m fairly certain the authorities have been alerted by several people in this building. In which case, I should probably hide some shit.”

You move your tired body and sit up, your legs shaking. You feel bad that you went a little crazy on him, especially considering the entire smutty movie that had been playing in your head the entire time. The one that didn’t involve Klaus in any way. You smile and shrug, then start moving off the bed to gather up your clothes.

“I know, that was a little over the top. Sorry.”

Klaus shakes his head and picks up the joint out of the ashtray you had thrown it in and takes a hit. After exhaling a cloud of smoke into the air, he studies you with creased eyebrows.

“Do not apologize for that. Ever.” Then he pauses before that sly grin starts spreading over his face. “Wait a minute, I know what was different. What probably lit a fire in your kitty cat panties. Old Fivey in there!”

You are in the process of tugging your shirt back over your head and your face isn’t visible to him, which is a damn good thing because it is probably beet red at the moment. You take an extra long time to pull it down over your head and you try and keep your composure.

“That’s ridiculous! I am not hot for Five!”

Klaus lets out a small giggle and shakes his head. “No, no, not like that. I meant I bet it was that crazy sexy hard rock he’s been pumping out of his room. Gets you all pumped up, too, doesn’t it? I don’t blame you though, fucking to loud music with a pounding bassline like that is amazing.”

You let out a sigh of relief and then laugh. “Yeah, you’re right, it does kind of get me going. That must have been it. Not to mention I haven’t been over in a while. I needed to let off some pent-up sexual frustration.”

Klaus bows and it’s hilarious because he’s still naked with a joint in his hand. “Glad to be of service, madam.”

You walk over and pat him on the butt. “Thank you. As always, you know how to deliver.”

“Do you want to stay here tonight?”

It had been your intention to head home for the rest of the night, but now that you’re here and Klaus is offering, you don’t really want to go back to your apartment alone. You like staying here in Klaus’s bed, with his body heat warming you up as you lie next to him, quietly chatting together until you drift off to sleep. Sometimes you’ll be on the very edge of sleep and he’ll whisper something so stupid and off the wall that you can’t help laughing and you’re awake again, with no hope of sleep after that.

But if you stay, that means Five was right about you. You really do come over because you don’t like being alone. You don’t need constant attention from anyone, that part is not true, but you like the companionship. Even if you and Klaus stopped having sex, you’d still want to come over all the time. You like hanging out with him and even on the occasions he’s not there, the apartment feels cozier and more lived in than yours. You have thought about getting a roommate, but all of your current friends are either in serious relationships or prefer to live alone. The thought of trying to advertise for a stranger to move in and then interview people to decide if you want to share your space with them seems exhausting. So, you’d rather just stay here as often as you can.

Even though you just mind-fucked him like crazy, you internally curse Five for reading you so correctly.

“Yeah, I’d like to if that’s ok.”

Klaus pulls on his underwear before flopping back on the bed. “Of course! You’re always welcome here, you know that.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to your brother. He’s been giving me a ration of shit lately about being around here so much,” you grumble as you crawl in next to him.

“I thought you two were getting along.”

“Well, we were, but then…” you almost let slip that you walked in on Five in the shower. You hadn’t told Klaus about that because you already felt bad for embarrassing the guy, you didn’t need to get anyone else involved. “I don’t know, I guess he changed his mind or something. Because now he definitely is not a fan of mine.”

Klaus frowns. “Hmm..well, that sucks. We should be the three amigos!”

“Pretty sure he does not want to be mi amigo at the moment.”

“Alright, I’ll talk to him tomorrow. Tell him to stop being such a grouch.”

“It’s ok, you don’t have to do that,” you protest.

“No, no, I want to. It’s important to me that he can get along with you. Five may be a scary, unhinged assassin who once threatened to kill me by describing in excruciating detail all of the steps he was going to take to do it. Like, he literally wrote them out on a yellow legal pad with graphics next to each one and handed it to me. I don’t remember the full list, but it involved a step ladder, some Elmer’s glue, and a toaster oven. Anyway, he may be scary like that, but he’s not all bad. He just needs to lighten up a little. Don’t worry, I’ll fix it.”

You laugh. “What did you do to piss him off that time?”

Klaus rolls his eyes and sighs. “Oh, I don’t know. It wasn’t a big deal. I may have accidentally eaten a large number of mushrooms and decided to strip naked and crawl into bed with him in the middle of the night.”

“I mean, that’s pretty funny but it doesn’t sound that bad.”

“Well, no, that part isn’t. It was when I started violently humping him from behind and licking his neck that he kind of got a little uppity about it.”

You start laughing harder. “You humped him and licked his neck?!”

“Yeah. I don’t really remember a lot of it, but apparently, I had him in a pretty good death grip while calling him “Alberto” and demanding to speak with his manager. I guess he was able to blink away just in time before I unloaded my high fructose porn syrup all over his superhero jammies.”

You are laughing so hard at that image that tears are rolling down your cheeks. “Ok, I understand why he wanted to kill you, now. You kind of had it coming.”

Klaus waves a hand flippantly in the air. “Now you sound just like him.”

The next morning, you get up before Klaus, just like always. As you make your way to the kitchen, you can hear rattling around in there and you pause. You think about heading back to the bedroom just to avoid any confrontation, but then you change your mind. You’re not going to hide from him. As you walk in, there is Five, busy making coffee. He looks like shit and you smile a little to yourself. Good, serves you right.

“’ Morning, sunshine!” you exclaim cheerily, just to piss him off. “You’re up early. I figured you’d be sleeping the day away after your little one-man frat party last night.”

He turns to you with a look that you know is intended to intimidate, but is not quite working considering he looks like death warmed over. His eyes are bloodshot, his hair is a tangled mess, and he’s still wearing the rumpled pants you had seen him in last night. And of course, he has not bothered to put on a shirt again. Jesus, will this guy put some clothes on and give me a fucking break?

“Oh, good, it’s you. I was worried maybe you had decided to fuck off and leave me alone. But, nope, here you are again.”

You give a snort and sit down at the kitchen table. You’re not really sure why you’re still there, but you don’t want him to think he’s scared you off so you stand your ground. Instead, you say nothing but start humming Pink’s “U + Ur Hand” under your breath. You know Five hears you because you can see his shoulders tense and his hands flex. You smile to yourself.

When he turns to you again, his arms crossed over his bare chest and his hair in his face, he leans against the counter and eyes you up with a malicious grin. You really wish he weren’t so damn good-looking because it’s very hard to keep up your little show when all you are really thinking about is jumping on top of him.

“That was a nice little performance you gave last night, by the way. I had assumed you were the type to just lie there and have someone else do all the work, but good to know my brother is at least getting something out of it.”

You straighten up in your seat. “You’re welcome. I figured the least I could do is give you some material to work with.”

Five nods with a smirk, not taking the bait. He uncrosses his arms and grabs onto the edge of the countertop behind him, leaning back casually. You are immediately drawn to his sculpted chest and abs and your eyes drift over the many faded scars scattered over his body.

“I could say the same to you, love,” he says.

He throws you off your game with that statement. You’re mostly sure he’s just trying to be an asshole and get under your skin, but what if he does know? What if you yelled something out while you were imagining him fucking you so hard your teeth rattled in your head? When you were calling him Daddy and riding him like he was Sea Biscuit? You feel caught and your face must betray you because suddenly he’s not looking so smug anymore.

You are both staring at one another, not saying a word, but the passive-aggressive tension in the air has changed to something else. The look between you seems to last forever, and you can feel the warmth spreading up your neck and onto your face. And maybe a little between your legs, as well. Just then, the coffee that Five had been making is done and the machine beeps loudly, startling you both.

He looks away first and pulls down a mug from the cabinet. You are surprised to see him grab a second one. He fills them both and then sets one down on the table, sliding it over to you with a push so that it sloshes over the side.

“Thanks,” you mumble, as you pick it up.

“Sure,” he responds grudgingly, and you can tell it’s killing him to be even moderately polite right now.

After a minute or so of neither of you talking, it is starting to get awkward. Someone needs to say something or leave. Instead, you just sip your hot coffee and pretend the tabletop is incredibly interesting. You decide to chance it and you clear your throat, but you don’t look up.

“Look, I’m sorry, ok?” you say quietly.

It takes a few seconds, but he finally responds. “Yeah, I’m sorry, too.”

You nod and glance up, meeting his eyes as he watches you with that all-encompassing intensity of his. His stare bores right through you and once again you feel frozen in time and for a minute you think he’s somehow doing that, but in reality, it’s just your mind playing tricks on you. He just has that hold over you somehow and you pray that he can’t see it. You watch as he looks away, closes his eyes, and pushes his hair back with one hand, giving you a good look at the tight muscles in his arms. Fuck. You cross your legs and take a sip of your coffee to try and hide the fact that you are on the verge of passing out right now.

At that exact moment, the weird energy in the room is broken by Klaus’s appearance. He floats in, wearing some sort of ugly satin robe that barely covers anything, but somehow he manages to pull off the look. He stops in the doorway and looks from you to Five and back again. Then he claps his hands and smiles.

“Yay! So, you guys are buddies again? Is that what I’m seeing here?”

Five rolls his eyes and sighs. You shrug your shoulders. “I guess so. Tolerating each other again, anyway,” you tell him.

Five gives a tight-lipped smile and holds his coffee mug up towards you in a toasting gesture and you do the same with yours. Neither of you say anything else on the subject.

“Well, let me tell you, that is a relief,” Klaus exhales. “I was not really looking forward to having to put the hammer down on you, Fivey.”

Five raises his eyebrows at Klaus. “Is that right? And how exactly were you planning on doing that?”

“By giving you a very stern warning, of course,” Klaus says with a smile, shaking his finger at Five. Then he walks over to get his own coffee. He looks Five up and down and then gives his arm a squeeze. “Damn, Cinco, you been working out or what? Looking pretty fine there, I must say.”

Five frowns and swats his hand away. “You’re so weird.”

You giggle into your mug and Five looks at you with a crooked smile. Then he snatches the full coffee pot out of Klaus’s hand. “As much as I’d love to spend the rest of my day in the company of you two intellectuals, I must take my leave. See you later.”

Klaus lets out a cry of protest as Five disappears in a flash, taking the coffee with him, and leaving his brother with an empty mug.

You try to hide your laughter as Klaus looks at you in disbelief.

“Well, that was rude,” he says in a huff.

With a shrug, you get up and pour some of your coffee into his cup. “Yeah, but I’ve come to realize that rude is Five’s love language.”

Klaus pouts. “He must love us a lot, then.”

With a smile, you think to yourself how much that statement is probably true. If Five doesn’t care about you, he’s not going to waste his time and energy to speak to you, even if it is in the form of an insult. It makes you feel good inside to know that he probably really does like you, at least a little bit. If not, he just wouldn’t bother with you at all; he’d avoid you like the plague. And you like knowing that. You like it a lot, actually.

Once again, you find your mind drifting off. And once again, it’s filled with images and scenarios starring one very sexy, teleporting ex-assassin.

Chapter Four: Love In The Time Of Cholera

“Jesus, what’s the matter with you?”

Five walks into the apartment to find you huddled on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and shivering.

“Nothing. It’s just a cold I think,” you answer between chattering teeth.

Five strides over to the couch and leans in to peer down at you, squinting slightly. He stands up straight and crosses his arms over his chest, flicking the hair out of his eyes with a superior shake of his head.

“I don’t think that’s just a cold. You look like shit.”

“Gosh, thanks, Five. Charming, as always,” you snap back. Or at least, it would have been a snap had you not just started coughing violently, your entire body shaking with the effort.

Five’s eyebrows furrow together. “Have you taken your temperature?”

You shrug. “No.”

With a heavy sigh, Five leaves the room, returning a minute later with a thermometer in hand. He presses the button and when it beeps, he holds it out for you. You eye it and him suspiciously.

Five jabs it towards you again when you don’t reach for it. “Take it.”

“How do I know you or Klaus haven’t used that to take your temperature in other ways besides orally?”

Five rolls his eyes. “I keep this in my room, away from Klaus for just that reason, and I can assure you it has never been used in my or anyone else’s ass.”

After another sigh from Five and another dubious look at the thermometer, you relent and take it from him. You place it under your tongue and you both wait in silence for what seems to take forever before you hear the beep again. Before you can take it out, Five reaches down and removes it from your mouth for you, frowning at the digital display.

“104.3. You’re burning up.”

You shiver again, wrapping the blanket around you tighter. “Great.”

Five is quiet for a moment, and then he glances around the room. “Where’s Klaus?”

You shrug again, and it reminds you how much your muscles are aching. “I don’t know. I came here right from work since it was closer than my place and I was feeling pretty crappy. I texted him to let him know I’d be here, but so far I haven’t seen him. He didn’t answer my text, either.”

You figure Five is probably more than annoyed with having you here without Klaus, and spreading your germs around his apartment in the process. With a guilty look, you start to stand up.

“Sorry, I’ll go. I’ve rested a bit, so I should be ok to walk home.”

As you stand, you are overwhelmed by a bout of dizziness and you sway on your feet, your vision blurring. Five reaches out to catch you around your waist and you let him take most of your weight. When your vision returns and you can stand, you look up at him to find he actually looks concerned rather than his usual expression of deep irritation. His facial features are softer and his hair is in his face again. His eyes scan over your face, lingering on your lips before meeting your eyes. Your legs are bearing your full weight now, but he still has his arms around you.

You clear your throat. “Or…I can get a cab.”

“Don’t be stupid,” he says, although it’s missing the usual snark he reserves for you. “You obviously are too sick to go anywhere.”

Five lets you go and you both stand there awkwardly, avoiding eye contact.

“So…you want me to stay here?” you ask weakly.

“Well, I wouldn’t say I want you to stay here, but I’m also not sending you off on your own while you’re half dead.” He manages a small smile that appears genuine. “You need someone to look after you.”

You try to hide your shock but your eyebrows raise. “And you’re going to look after me?”

He looks away briefly before sighing dramatically again. “Until Klaus comes back. Then you’re his problem.”

A slight smile twitches at the corner of your mouth. You can’t believe Mr. Crab Ass is being this soft. Soft for him, anyway. And you can’t believe he’s willing to take care of you. You’re trying to picture him as a caregiver, though, and it’s like your brain isn’t computing.

“Ok,” you say softly. “Thank you.”

“Come on,” he says, holding out his hand. “I need to get you into bed.”

Despite the pounding headache in your skull, you start giggling as Five realizes what he said, and his face flushes.

“That’s not…you know what I mean,” he stammers. “You can lie down in Klaus’s bed.”

You nod, still smiling and take his hand. It’s warm and dry against your clammy one, but he doesn’t seem to care. Even though your head feels like it’s filled with mashed potatoes, you still feel a little zing through your body at the sensation of his touch. You know he’s strong and he can kill a man with these same hands if he needed to, but he holds yours gently.

He gets you situated in Klaus’s bed, with an extra blanket thrown over the comforter to keep you warm against your chills. He brings you medicine to bring down the fever, and a glass of water to keep next to the bed. He places a cold compress on your forehead and dims the lights so you can rest, slipping quietly out of the room after he makes sure you’re comfortable.

As he leaves, you notice he hesitates near the door and takes a look back at you before he goes. You’re not quite sure how to interpret the look, mostly because you’ve never seen him like that before. He looks…sad? Concerned? You’re not sure, but whatever the meaning behind it has your heart racing just a little faster.

Even with Five’s continued care, your fever remains and you somehow manage to feel even shittier as the day goes on. Your entire body aches, right down to your bones, and you’re so exhausted you can hardly keep your eyes open. You’re sweaty and shivering and every time you cough it feels like fire in your lungs. You might even be hallucinating, because each time you wake up and open your eyes, Five is there. He usually has some amused look on his face, like you just said something interesting or funny, but you’re pretty sure you’ve only been sleeping.

At one point you wake and he’s not in the chair across from the bed like he has been, but you can hear him out in the hall. He’s talking to someone and he does not sound happy. He sounds like you’re used to him sounding. All frustration and rage.

“What do you mean you’re not coming home?” he spits out. There’s a pause. “And like I told you , she’s sick.” Pause. “No, dickhead, like really sick! You need to get your ass back here and act like a fucking adult—” Pause. “Because she’s your girlfriend!” he yells, and you can practically hear his jaw clenching from the other room.

There’s another long pause and you can hear him pacing back and forth. He laughs sarcastically at whatever has been said to him on the other end.

“Yeah, great idea…you stay there and enjoy yourself. I’ll take care of her. Just like I take care of everything else around here.”

He must have hung up because you hear him muttering angrily to himself. “Fucking, self-absorbed asshole! I’m not sure why I expected anything different. Fuck!”

After a minute or two, Five comes back into the room. He’s obviously still upset but is trying to cover it up. Seeing that you’re awake, he comes to stand next to the bed, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“So, I got ahold of Klaus finally,” he tells you.

“Yeah, I figured that part out.” You smile weakly up at him. “And it also sounds like he’s not coming home?”

Five rubs the back of his neck. “It appears not. Not for a couple of days, anyway. Seems like he went with a random group of people he met at a club last night and he somehow ended up in Toronto, the fucking jackass. Without a valid passport! Only Klaus would somehow figure out how to cross international borders on charm alone. Either that, or he blew the border guard.” His voice softens and he looks down at you. “I’m sorry he’s not here.”

“That’s ok. I think I’d rather have you here taking care of me, anyway. Klaus is usually much more interested in taking care of Klaus.”

Five gives a short laugh and shakes his head. “What the hell do you two have in common, anyway?”

“Well…” you smile knowingly, even though just that motion of moving your cheek muscles hurts.

“Ok, no, please don’t finish that sentence. I’m sorry I asked.”

Throughout the next day and night, Five continues to care for you. You’re not really sure why he’s so invested in making sure you’re ok, but you never question him. Instead, you let him fix your covers, and take your temperature, and bring you cold drinks. He makes you soup and watches to make sure you eat all of it. It’s absolutely hilarious to see him like a mother hen, fussing over you and scolding you when you don’t take his directions.

Even though you’re not well enough to leave yet, you are starting to feel a little better. Enough that you’re able to get up and take a hot shower. While you’re in there, Five takes the opportunity to change the sheets on the bed and he helps you back in when you’re clean and feeling more like a human again. Once you are all set up in bed again, you are able to sit up and stay awake, which is more than you’ve been able to do over the past 24 hours. Five stands there at the side of the bed awkwardly.

“I’m really sorry for all of this,” you tell him. “Thank you for taking care of me, though. I had no idea you made such a good nurse.”

Five scoffs, but there’s a small smile there. “Yeah, well…you shouldn’t be. I’m good at everything, remember? Also, I’m not that heartless.”

“I never thought you were heartless. Maybe a little bitchy, but never heartless,” you say with a smile.

“Well, you’re about the only one, so thanks I guess. Although, I’m not sure being described as bitchy is any better.”

You start to laugh, but it turns into a racking cough, and Five looks at you with concern.

“All right, enough talking. You should really go back to sleep.”

You shake your head as you wipe at your watery eyes. “I’m sick of sleeping. Entertain me.”

“Entertain you? Jesus, here I am busting my ass to make you better and now I have to entertain you, too?”

He’s trying to sound aggravated, but he’s not quite pulling it off.

“But I’m borrreddd,” you whine dramatically.

“Christ, fine, I will find something to entertain you, as long as you stop fucking whining like that.”

You smile with satisfaction since you got your way and Five tries his best to look unamused.

“I have lots of books; do you want to read?”

You nod. “What do you have?”

“Fuck, I don’t know, I’m not going to list off an entire library of titles for you. What do you like to read?”

After thinking for a minute, you answer, “I doubt you have any, but I like classic romances.”

Five smiles slowly. “Well, then you’re in luck because I happen to also like classic romances.”

You almost start coughing again with surprise. “What? You? Number Five ‘Hard-Ass’ Hargreeves loves romance novels?”

“I am a very romantic person, I can’t believe you’ve never noticed,” he says with a hand on his chest.

“Oh my god, well now I’ve heard everything. Alright, then, Mr. Romance; what do you have for me to read?”

He leaves for a few minutes, returning with a paperback novel in his hand. He holds it up for you to see the cover.

“Love In The Time of Cholera?” you read.

“It’s fitting, don’t you think?” he answers with a smirk.

“I don’t think I have cholera.”

“Well, maybe not but you have something just as disgusting. The plague, maybe. But this was the only book I have that includes both a deadly disease and romance.”

“I haven’t read that one, but wasn’t it written in the 1980s or something? Is that considered a classic already?”

“Look, do you want to read the fucking book or not?”

You nod with a smile. “Yes, please.”

Five steps closer to the bed and holds out the book for you to take it, but you don’t move. Instead, you look up at him with the saddest expression you can manage and poke out your bottom lip.

“I don’t know if my eyes will be able to read such small print in my weakened state. Will you read it to me?” You bat your eyelashes dramatically.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Five sighs. “Read to you? Are you a child?”

“Please? Come on, what else are you doing? Nothing.”

After another huff and a sigh that isn’t very convincing, Five throws his hands up. “Fine! I’ll read you the stupid book. But you better sit there and be quiet and not interrupt.”

You nod obediently and then pat the empty side of the bed next to you. You were halfway kidding, but after a look at the bed and then back to the chair and then back to the bed again, Five walks around to the other side and climbs in, propping himself up beside you. If his heart is pounding just a little faster from the proximity like yours is, he hides it well.

“Will you do different voices for the characters?” you giggle.

“Shut up. Also, you have a booger hanging out of your nose and it’s making me sick. Get a tissue,” he grumbles.

After blowing your nose and using the hand sanitizer that Five holds out to you, you settle into the covers. But not before you take your index finger and poke him right in his cheek dimple. “I’m ready now.”

He bats your hand away with a scowl as you snort from trying to hold in a laugh with your stuffed-up nose.

“You are such an idiot,” he tells you with a shake of his head, trying to hide a smile.

Five turns to the book and starts reading while you lie next to him. Pretty soon the sound of his voice has you closing your eyes and you sink deeper into the covers. When you hear him stop, you open your eyes and peer up at him.

“Why did you stop?” you ask blearily.

“You were sleeping.”

You close your eyes again and sigh. “Keep reading, even if I fall asleep. I like listening to your voice. It’s nice.”

Even though you can’t see him, you think you hear a breathy little laugh. “Ok,” he says softly, before continuing on with the story.

You doze off again, and when you wake up the sun is lower in the sky and the room is dim. Your eyes adjust to the darkness and you see Five is still there. The book is closed and lying to the side and he is asleep on his back next to you. Then you see that your arm is flung over his stomach and you freeze. He’s still sleeping soundly, so you slowly take your hand back, but not before making sure you get a good feel of his hard abs under your palm. You look at his face and see that it’s softer, his forehead uncreased, with his dark lashes fanned over the tops of his cheeks. His lips are parted just slightly while he breathes deeply and for a very brief moment, you think about running your fingers over them to see if they’re as soft as they look. Instead, you clear your throat and he stirs.

When Five looks over at you, you smile shyly at him. “I think we both fell asleep.”

He runs a hand down his face and looks around him. “Yeah, I guess we did.” He turns back to you. “How are you feeling?”

You nod. “Better, actually, thank you. And thank you for reading to me. I missed some of it, but I liked what I heard of it so far. And I get the gist that this guy in the book is going to start whoring his way around the world because of his unrequited love?”

Five laughs. “Pretty much, yes.”

“Guys are disgusting no matter what time period they live in, I guess.”

Five raises one eyebrow at you. “You do realize whose bed you are currently sleeping in, right? Probably the most disgusting one of them all.”

You frown. “Klaus isn’t that disgusting. He’s just…free.”

Five gives a snort of derision. “Is that what you call fucking your way through several different timelines, including, but not limited to, an entire congregation of his own cult members?”

You feel your face turning red from embarrassment at being one of the many in Klaus’s little trail of conquests, but you already knew that and hadn’t cared before. So, why is it bothering you now? Why do you care what Five thinks? Instead, you change the subject.

“So, you asked me what I have in common with Klaus, but what about you? Why do you live together if he seems to be a constant source of irritation for you?”

Five is quiet for a minute and he sits up in the bed and for a second you think he’s going to leave. But he just leans against the headboard and looks back down at you with a sad smile.

“You’re right, he drives me fucking crazy and I would most definitely prefer to live on my own.”

“Then why don’t you?”

“Because Klaus is a hazard to himself.”

“What do you mean?”

“Even when we were kids, he was constantly getting into trouble. Whether he was getting bullied by some dickheads on the subway or being used by my father in some horrible way, he was always getting hurt. Both physically and mentally. He’s just too damn trusting. When I was there, I would stand up for him. If I saw him getting pushed around or harassed in some way, then you could bet that whoever was responsible was getting their ass kicked. At home, there wasn’t much I could do about that, but he would come to my room when he was scared or upset and I’d let him hang out as long as he wanted, just to let him talk and calm down. When I left, among a million other things that haunted me during those years, I felt terrible that I had left Klaus unprotected.”

You stare up him, and you can see the hurt on his face as he’s remembering all of this.

“After I came back, I couldn’t believe how far he’d fallen. I know you can’t blame yourself for someone else’s choices, but I kept thinking maybe he would have been ok if I hadn’t jumped. Then, almost right off the bat, he gets kidnapped and tortured by people that were looking for me and then accidentally fucks off to Vietnam to earn himself some more trauma and heartache. Instead of protecting him, I was causing him more pain and suffering and I’d hardly been back in his life for more than a couple of days. So, after a few more screw-ups and a grand old time in the 1960s, here we are again. I know what he’s been through and it’s a lot.”

“So, you decided to live with him to watch out for him? To try and protect him again?”

Five nods. “I know Klaus isn’t stupid. And he’s a survivalist, just like me, so I’m not saying he can’t get along without me. I just feel that I owe him something, at least. And the only thing I can really offer him these days is to try and look out for him. Maybe stop him from making mistakes that will end up causing him more harm in the end. Like taking too many drugs, sleeping with dangerous people, or getting stranded in Canada with strangers. So, as you can see, I’m doing a real bang-up job.”

You smile up at him. “I don’t think that’s your fault.”

Five frowns. “Well, anyway, there you have it. He drives me fucking crazy and makes me want to put his head through a wall most days, but if I’m here then at least I can keep an eye on him.”

“So, am I one of these dangerous people you want to keep him from sleeping with?” you ask just to be a smart-ass and maybe a little flirty.

He gives you a look you don’t know how to interpret. “You are most definitely dangerous, but not in the way you might think.”

You’re not sure how to answer that as you feel your cheeks blush. “You’re a good big brother.”

“Not really.”

You rest your hand on top of Five’s, giving it a light squeeze and he looks down at it. “No, I mean it, Five. You’re a really good brother to him.” And you do mean it.

He swallows hard and looks you in the eyes, holding your gaze for a long time. He gently strokes his thumb against the side of your hand, and it’s the most contact you’ve ever gotten from him. It’s only an instant before he’s taking his back again.

He shakes his head and his voice is almost a whisper when he speaks. “You don’t understand. I’m really not.”

After another awkward moment, he clears his throat and moves off the bed. He pauses in the doorway and turns back to you.

“I’ll bring you something to eat, ok?”

You nod. “Thank you.”

Then he’s gone and you’re left lying there wondering what the hell just happened between you two.

************************************

I thought I had finally gotten my shit together. After that little setback when she caught me beating my meat in the shower and I turned into a giant asshole, we had been back on friendly terms. And I had told myself to stop being a delusional creep and fantasizing about things that weren’t ever going to happen. So far, I have been doing pretty well. Then she got sick.

Normally, the only reason I would care whether or not someone was sick would be so that I could stay away from them. I have dealt with more than my fair share of horrible illnesses and injuries in my life and managed to come out of them mostly unscathed and with no one else’s help. So it’s hard for me to feel too much sympathy for folks with access to advanced medical care and simple things like aspirin or Neosporin. I lost track of how many times I would have killed just for some Imodium and a bottle of Gatorade after eating some not-so-great canned food.

As soon as I saw her all miserable and shivering from a fever like that, though, my heart couldn’t stand it. All I wanted to do was make her feel better and I didn’t care if I was exposed to her germs or not. I would have taken all of them if it meant she’d feel well again. That’s how much she’s gotten to me.

My first instinct was to bring her into my bed, but I quickly changed my mind. I didn’t want it to seem like I was hinting at anything or being a weirdo, so I opted for the better choice of Klaus’s bed. Even though the thought of her being in there, no matter the purpose, leaves me with a gnawing feeling in my stomach. But that’s ok, the only thing that mattered was that she was cared for.

Those first 24 hours were interesting, to say the least. I’m still not quite sure what to think about it. She was feverish and exhausted, and she started hallucinating and talking in her sleep. At first, I didn’t think much of it. It’s not abnormal for people with high fevers to experience these things. But when I didn’t leave her side except to get her more medicine or anything else she needed, she must have realized I was there even if she wasn’t totally in her right mind. She started talking to me, but it didn’t make sense. At least, I told myself it didn’t make sense. Because I don’t want to acknowledge the very unrealistic notion that it may have been her true feelings.

“It’s you,” she had said weakly, her eyes barely open as I sat in the chair across from her.

“Yeah, it’s me. Did you need something?”

She shook her head very slowly and her eyes closed again. “No…I mean…it’s you, Five. It’s always you.”

I didn’t how to take that or how to respond, so I didn’t say anything and she drifted back into a sound sleep.

It had turned dark outside and I hadn’t bothered to turn on a light in the room, but I was still sitting there and I had almost fallen asleep myself. Then I heard her speak again.

“Five?”

I got up and went to her side, and even in the dark, I could tell that she wasn’t completely awake or lucid. She had a sheen of sweat on her forehead from the fever and I placed my hand on her head, hoping the coolness of my skin would feel good. She sighed and smiled.

“You’re hot,” I told her, obviously meaning the temperature of her forehead.

She had laughed dreamily, her eyes still closed. “So are you.”

I took my hand away and smiled down at her, deciding to go ahead and tease her even though I knew she wasn’t with it. “Oh yeah? I think you’re just saying that so I’ll continue waiting on you hand and foot.”

“Nooo…like soooo hot. Can you not be so hot all the time? It’s not fair. With no shirt…"

It was like talking to a drunk person, which I have lots of experience in, from both points of view, and I laughed again. “Ok. Go back to sleep.”

She had turned over on her side and curled up, facing away from me, but she was still mumbling out loud.

“Ok…I’ll do whatever you say, Daddy,” she giggled.

After that, she was back into a deep sleep and I just stood there, frozen in place and trying not to read too much into that. The logical explanation was that she was dreaming about her father in a completely innocent way. However, the other, less plausible one would be that she meant it in a totally different and very naughty way. A way that if I thought about it too much was going to cause me some major problems in the crotch department of my pants. And she had said I was hot, too. Which again, I chocked up to her fever, but still. I didn’t mind hearing it.

The third such incident had happened in the middle of the night. I was asleep and had been for some time. She seemed to be resting peacefully, but I still didn’t want to leave the room just in case she needed something if she woke up. I was still in the chair when I was awoken by her nonsensical ramblings again.

“Why don’t you?”

I rubbed my eyes and got up, standing next to her to make sure she was ok and was going to fall back asleep again. In the dark, she must have sensed me, because she reached out and took my hand and pulled me towards her. She hardly had any strength, so I didn’t have to move, but I did anyway and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Why don’t you?” she asked again, her voice thick with sleep and her hand still latched onto mine.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t like me,” she answered softly.

I didn’t really know if she was talking to me or not inside of her head, but I decided to answer her. “I do like you.”

“Good,” she murmured, and then she was quiet again. I was about to get up and go back to my chair when she started talking again. “I like it when you call me that, you know.”

I frowned. I had no idea what she was talking about. “Call you what?”

“Sweetheart,” she whispered and in the dark I could make out a smile on her face.

My heart just about jumped out of my chest. But then again, maybe she hadn’t even meant that for me. Maybe she was talking about Klaus, or someone else. Maybe it was all a weird dream and it didn’t mean anything rational at all.

I couldn’t resist, though. I took my hand from hers and touched the side of her face, running my thumb over her warm cheek. “Ok, sweetheart,” I said softly and my voice cracked. It was the first time I had said that without being a sarcastic jerk.

She smiled again and then burrowed deeper into the covers with a sigh. “Five…”

I wanted to die right there on the spot. I hated that I was letting myself create this little fantasy world for the two of us. All of these things she was saying meant nothing. She was delusional and not in her normal mindset. These things were most likely complete gibberish and had no bearing on anything. She was probably saying my name because I was right there and she had heard my voice. Or, more likely, she was telling me off in some dream she was having where I was being my usual pleasant self.

But that tiny little possibility for any of that to be true…that was all I could think about. And damn, it was driving me crazy.

When she had fallen asleep while I was reading to her, I kept going for a while because she had said she liked hearing my voice. But when I was sure she was deep enough asleep that she wouldn’t notice, I stopped. I should have left then, but I didn’t. Instead, I watched her sleeping for a while; noticing the rise and fall of her chest and the way her lips were slightly parted as she breathed in a steady rhythm. I wanted to pull her next to me and hold her. I wanted to stroke her hair and kiss her forehead. I didn’t do those things, but I did stay where I was. I laid there next to her, comfortable and warm and I didn’t want that moment to end. I loved it.

Now it’s two days later and my stupid ass brother still hasn’t shown up. Not that I’m really complaining, but I’m sure she wishes he were here. I meant it when I said I know I’m not a good brother to him. I’ve let him down many times in the past and now I’m lusting after his “non-girlfriend.” Pretty shitty if you ask me. Still, he should be here. Leave it to Klaus to up and abandon her when she needs him the most. Although, she had said she was happy I was here for her.

She is feeling better, at least, and is up and around more. We have developed a kind of routine and have fallen into a comfortable companionship. I know she likes chicken and rice soup and not chicken and noodle. She prefers Sprite over ginger ale and her favorite tea is chamomile. She loves the movie Grease and hates any and all sports movies. And of course, she loves classic romance novels.

I’ve continued reading the book to her, even though she’s well enough to continue reading it herself. She said she likes listening to me and I like doing anything that makes her happy. She still can’t get over the fact that the main character in the book ends up banging 622 women during his decades-long fuck-a-thon.

We are nearing the end of the book today and I’m sitting on the couch with my feet on the coffee table (I know…hypocrisy at its finest). She is sitting next to me when she scoots over and lays her head on my shoulder.

“What’s this?” I ask, trying to act annoyed, when of course I couldn’t be happier.

“I want to see the pages while you read. Make sure you’re not skipping anything to get to the end faster.”

I roll my eyes. “I promise I am not skipping anything. What do you take me for?”

“A cynical bastard?”

She looks up at me with a grin and I do my best to look irritated. “Do you want to finish this damn book or not?”

“Yes, darling.”

It’s heavy with sarcasm, obviously, but I still get a little rush when I hear her say it. I want so badly to lean my cheek against her head, feeling the softness of her hair against my skin. Instead, I sigh heavily and open the book.

“Hey, wait, so we’re almost to the end now and Florentino has been whoring around for a long time. I forget, how long has it been exactly?”

“51 years, 9 months, and 4 days.”

“Damn,” she says with a chuckle. “That’s a really fucking long time to wait around. Even if you are banging a bunch of people along the way. I mean think about it. That’s like…5 decades just…putting your life on pause. Can you imagine? God, I’d go insane.”

I’m suddenly very uncomfortable since that statement hit a little too close to home. I shift in my seat and the movement makes her lift her head and look up at me. I don’t meet her eyes, though.

“Oh, shit,” she gasps, covering her mouth with her hand. “I am so sorry, Five. I didn’t mean—"

“It’s fine.”

“No. No, I just forgot and that was a really insensitive thing for me to say, and…god dammit, I always do stupid shit like this. I’m always just blurting things out without thinking about what I’m saying.”

“Really. It’s ok,” I assure her.

She lets out a frustrated exhale and she’s starting to mess with her fingernails like she always does when she gets nervous. 

“Hey,” I say, putting my hand on her leg. “You don’t have to feel bad. I’m not offended. And it’s true, you would go insane. I can vouch for that.”

She looks down at my hand on her leg and I quickly take it back. When she looks at me, her eyebrows are drawn together in concern.

“Can I ask you something, then?”

“Sure.”

“So, I know all about your ‘accident’ or whatever you want to call it. Klaus told me everything and it’s just so awful, Five. The fact that you are here and functioning and not locked up in a looney bin somewhere is nothing short of amazing.”

I let out a short laugh. “Thanks, I guess? Although some days I feel like I should be locked up. But that usually just has to do with having to deal with my moronic family.”

She doesn’t laugh at my joke to deflect, and instead, she continues looking at my face with not exactly pity, but something close to it. It makes me uneasy.

“Ok, well, anyway, there’s something I’ve wanted to know. Have you…have you ever been in a relationship with anyone? Like romantically?”

Well, if I felt uneasy before it’s nothing to how I’m feeling now. I would like to sink down in between these couch cushions and smother myself to death. How am I supposed to answer that without sounding like a fucking lunatic? Then again, if anyone would understand, it’s probably her.

I clear my throat and rub the back of my neck. “That’s kind of a loaded question.”

“Is it?”

"Well, the short answer is yes. I was in a serious relationship for a very long time. Decades, in fact. But that ended a few years back.”

“Oh…I thought you were alone that whole time. So you had a partner?”

“Yes, you could say that. Dolores was more than my partner, though. She was all of the things I needed when I wanted to give up. She was my rationality, my calm in a storm, my teacher and my friend. She taught me love, patience, and perseverance above all odds. She was my entire world and the main reason I’m still standing here today. She was my everything and the love of my life.” I pause and I look her directly in the eyes. “And she was made up entirely of my imagination and a department store mannequin. But she was very real to me.”

She blinks a few times and I can tell she is trying to process all of that. And I can’t blame her. What is the appropriate response to that? If you’re a dick, you laugh. If you’re some sappy, bleeding heart with no control over your emotions, you cry. But if you are a normal, sympathetic person with actual brains, then it gets complicated.

“Five, I…I don’t know what to say. That’s…”

“Sad? Disturbing? The most fucked up thing you’ve ever heard?”

“Beautiful.”

I look at her in disbelief. “What?”

“If she was all of those things to you, then that means you are all of those things. You are the reason you persevered and survived all those years. Because you made sure of it in the only way you knew how. And Dolores was the vessel that helped you compartmentalize everything, letting you deal with the horrors of your reality while still maintaining all of the good parts that are inside of you. It’s brilliant, actually. And hopelessly romantic.”

“No one has ever interpreted it in that way before. Although to be honest, I haven’t really told many people. In fact, come to think of it, outside of my siblings, you are the only one I’ve told.”

“Wow, really? Thank you.”

She sounds sincere and I know she is not judging me. I am very protective of Dolores and if she had said something flippant or thoughtless, I would have defended my lady love. But she didn’t. She understands. Which just makes me want her more.

“You’re welcome.”

“Ok, so other than Dolores, have there been other women in your life?”

I sigh and run a hand through my hair. “Yes, there have been. Not many, but a few. And none of them were relationships to speak of.”

She smiles. “Ah, I see. A slew of one-night stands to make up for lost time?”

I chuckle and shake my head. “More like a select few professional dancers.”

She makes a cringey face. “Yikes. I guess that can be fun in its own way, though. Bringing home some hot strippers maybe isn’t a bad way to spend a Friday night.”

“Oh, no, I never brought them home. Or even left the club, actually.” Her raised eyebrows have me laughing. “It is in my personal experience that the adage of ‘there’s no sex in the champagne room’ is not entirely true.”

She draws in a dramatic gasp with a big grin on her face. Then she slaps me on the arm. “Five Hargreeves, you are a giant slut! I can’t believe you give Klaus shit all the time when you’re going around banging strippers in the back of the clubs. What did they do, lure you back there with lap dances? How much does it cost to bone a stripper these days?”

“I never said I paid for it,” I say with a smirk.

“Whoa whoa whoa…hold on. Let me see if I’m understanding this correctly. You go to a strip club, probably buy a couple of drinks, maybe get a couple of dances, and they just magically take you into the champagne room and let you rail them?”

I shrug and drape my arms across the back of the couch. “That’s pretty close, yeah.”

Her mouth is hanging open and I know I’m acting like an arrogant prick, but I don’t care. Her reaction is too funny. It’s also all true.

“Holy shit.” She shakes her head with a smile. “Well, I hope you know that is not the normal experience for most guys. And the fact that it sounds like this has happened more than once leads me to believe you must be doing something extremely right in that room because girls like to talk.”

“Is that right?” I say with one eyebrow raised.

She nods. “I’m not entirely surprised. After I was able to get a quick preview of what you’re working with down there, I have no doubt you left these ladies with some major organ damage and a big smile on their faces.”

Now my mouth is hanging open in shock, but before I can stammer out some words, she starts laughing. It’s immediately contagious and I join her, and I haven’t laughed that hard in a very long time. It feels good and it almost erases the crushing feeling inside when I think about how I never want this time with her to end. Almost.

Chapter Five: Bizarre Love Triangle

The next day you are back to feeling normal again, and you should be going. You’ve missed a few days of work and you really need to get back there. But you don’t; you stay. You like the little infirmary Five has created for you. You feel safe and cared for, and if you leave that feeling will be gone.

Klaus decides to return sometime during the afternoon. He breezes in, smelling of cigarettes and unwashed clothes, with a smile on his face and seemingly not a care in the world. You are annoyed, sure, but you secretly don’t even care that he’s been gone. And it’s just so hard to stay mad at him because it’s Klaus. He is who he is and it’s no surprise, really.

Five, however, finds nothing amusing about it. You stand there and watch as he loses his ever-loving shit.

Barely two minutes after Klaus is in the door, Five is appearing in front of him in an angry swirl of light, already leaning in with bared teeth and clenched fists.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he growls in Klaus’s face.

Klaus, always immune to his brother’s rage, raises a hand to his head and closes his eyes. “Shhh…Fivey…please, can you keep the screaming to a dull roar? My skull feels like it’s breaking in two.”

“It is going to be breaking in two when I’m through with you. What the fuck is wrong with you? Don’t you have any decency? She has been on death’s door for the past two days and you don’t bother to come home or even call to check in?”

Five is gesturing to you while you stand off to the side, not sure whether you should be jumping in or not. You don’t really appreciate being talked about like you aren’t there, but you’ve never seen Five this worked up before and it’s intimidating, to say the least.

Klaus sighs dramatically and looks over to you. “I’m sorry. You’re ok now, though, right?”

“Uh, yeah, I am…”

“See? She’s ok, so no harm done,” he tells Five.

“Yeah, she is ok, thanks to me. That’s not even the point, though! You need to stop thinking about only yourself all the time. Grow the fuck up and act like an adult.” Five is still yelling loudly and Klaus is flinching with each word thrown in his face. “God, you’re so fucking useless sometimes!”

“Hey!” you interject. “Five, stop. I know you’re mad but you don’t have to be mean.”

He whips his head in your direction and the ire is still there. “Mean? I’m being mean? You do realize he just up and abandoned you, right?”

You stand up straight and raise your chin. “I think abandoned is a strong word. And I’m an adult, too, you know. I appreciate everything you did for me, but I think I could have survived without either of you.”

Five is silent, but his eyes don’t leave yours. He’s still angry, but there’s something else there. Hurt.

“Fine,” he concedes and his shoulders slump a little. “Forget I even said anything. You two dumbasses really do deserve each other.”

After that, he’s gone. Disappeared again before your eyes and you know he’s not in the apartment anymore. You doubt you’ll see him back here again anytime soon. You fucked things up again, and you don’t know how to fix it this time. You look at Klaus.

“Why didn’t you come back? It would have been the decent thing to do. I thought you cared a little more about me than that.”

Klaus massages his temples with his hands and lets out a loud exhale. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be gone that long, and it was a little tricky to get back into the country without documentation. Especially when the guards on duty that day are all alpha males with no sense of humor.” He looks at you with concern. “I really am sorry.”

“Thank you.”

“You seem back to normal, now, so that’s good. I’m glad at least Five was here.”

You nod. “Me too.” You look towards the door, even though that’s not the way he left. “I don’t think he’s going to want to have anything to do with me again, though.”

Klaus is already on his way to the bathroom and he waves a hand in the air dismissively. “Nah, don’t worry about him. He’ll get over it. He always does. Come on, want to join me in the shower?”

“No, thanks,” you answer with a pinched smile. You may not be that angry with Klaus, but you are pretty annoyed. And certainly not in the mood for anything more than chit-chat right now.

It’s later that night, and why the hell you’re still here you have no idea. You should have left hours ago. You just can’t help but want to see Five again and to maybe try and smooth things over. And you’re worried about him, too. Obviously, he can take care of himself, but that doesn’t mean he won’t do something stupid just because he’s pissed off and not thinking clearly. So, while Klaus is in his room sleeping off his three-day bender, you lie down on the couch. You can’t sleep though so you’re staring up at the ceiling in the dark when you hear a familiar whooshing noise and brief flash of blue light coming from the kitchen. You get up and enter the kitchen quietly.

Five stops short when he sees you, his eyes wide for half a second before he corrects himself and he adopts his signature glare. You watch him as he walks to the sink, grabs a glass out of the cabinet, and fills it with water from the tap. You notice how he swayed a little when he walked and the way his eyes were momentarily unfocused. He turns his back to you as he takes a long drink of water.

“What are you still doing here?” he asks after he swallows.

“Are you drunk?” you ask, ignoring his question.

He gives a short and haughty noise, half snort, half laugh, and he swallows down another gulp of water.

“Hardly,” he answers, still turned away from you. He is deliberately not looking at you, probably waiting for you to give up and leave first.

“Yes, you are,” you insist.

Five turns, spinning abruptly around and facing you head-on. He slams the empty water glass on the counter behind him.

“And what if I was? What the fuck does it matter to you?” he barks, his face hard and angry.

You aren’t going to let him win this one. You aren’t going to let him chase you out of there.

“Where were you anyway?”

He puts his hands in his pockets and leans back against the counter. His hair is disheveled and hanging in his eyes again. His shirt, although slightly wrinkled, is unbuttoned just far enough that you can make out the hard line of his collarbone and the outline of his pecs. He is all tense joints and sinew, skin tight and smooth over rippling muscles; everything coiled tight. He notices you staring at his body and he smirks.

“Aw, did you miss me tending to your every need, princess? Not getting enough attention from my dear brother in there?” He nods his head toward Klaus’s room.

You cross your arms defensively over your chest, staring him down. “Don’t you dare fucking talk to me like that, Five. We are past that.”

He gives another sarcastic huff and turns his back on you again. “Go back to your boyfriend. Leave me alone.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you answer flatly, although that’s hardly relevant.

Five doesn’t say anything in response at first and you think you’ve won this weird little game you two are playing. Then you see his shoulders slump and his head hangs down.

“Then what are you doing with him?” he asks quietly.

You pause, blinking into the dim light of the kitchen, watching the muscles in his back flex through his shirt as he presses his palms harder into the countertop.

“What do you mean?” you ask with a tremble in your voice.

Five turns around to face you, the softness you had heard for just a moment gone again. He takes a menacing step toward you and you instinctively back up.

“I mean, what are you doing with Klaus? Why are you with him?”

Five continues to slowly make his way into your personal space. His eyes are dark and he’s breathing hard with anger or drunkenness, or both. You back up, but you find yourself trapped against the wall. Five pauses for a moment, like he’s unsure he wants to follow through on whatever he’s thinking. But then he’s taking another step toward you, and another, until he’s so close you can see the tiny flecks of brown in his otherwise clear green eyes.

You take a shaking breath in and you can smell the whiskey on his breath, and the leathery scent of the soap you recognize from the shower. You can hear the squeak of his leather dress shoe on the floor and the way the fabric of his pants brushes softly between his legs as he moves in.

When you don’t answer, he asks again, his voice low and demanding. “Why are you with him?”

You swallow hard and try to look away, but his stare is too intense. “I…I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. Tell me.”

He’s leaning in, trapping you between his forearms as they are pressed against the wall next to your head, his lips just inches from yours as he waits for your answer. You have a feeling he’s not going anywhere until he hears what he wants to hear.

Your voice is barely a whisper when it comes out. “Because I don’t like being alone.”

One half of Five’s mouth curls up in a self-satisfied smirk. When he closes the already small gap between you and him, he rests his hand on your hip as your thigh grazes against his groin. You can feel the firm bulge starting to form in his perfectly fitted pants as you hold your breath.

“Fuck,” he murmurs painfully.

Before you can react, his mouth is on yours, hungry and rushed, like he’s trying to get as much of you as he can before he changes his mind again. But he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he presses further into you, flattening you against the wall, his hands clutching firmly to your hips. The weight of his entire body is pressed upon you, your breasts pushed against his chest and your groin flush with his. You take in a gulp of air between open-mouth kisses, half-resisting and half-responding to his touch.

If he senses any hesitation from you, he ignores it. Instead, he moans pitifully in his throat, raising both of his hands to bunch your hair into his fists. The feeling of his fingers against your scalp is like a spark; igniting the rest of your body so that you find yourself grabbing the back of his shirt and pushing your lower body into him.

His hands release from your hair, only to trail down the sides of your face and onto your neck. Hot and insistent, you feel his fingers tracing over the tendons on either side, across your jugular, and dipping into the hollow curve above your collarbone. His mouth leaves yours and follows the same route of his fingers; kissing softly but urgently in a linear pattern.

You are still grasping handfuls of his shirt on his back and then his chest. “Five.”

You don’t know what the meaning behind you saying his name is. You don’t want him to stop, but you can’t think clearly so it’s the only thing that comes out.

“It’s not fair,” he growls into your skin, moving to the other side of your neck. “Not fucking fair.”

A whine escapes your throat and you find yourself arching into him. Into his kisses and into his body. You want more and you don’t care that he’s drunk or that he all but forced himself on you. You’re not going to push him away and you stop kidding yourself that you were even thinking about it in the first place. It feels good. He feels good. And it feels right.

His kisses abruptly stop and when you open your eyes, you’re met with his intense gaze again. His mouth is parted as he labors for breath, chest heaving against yours. His hands are on your neck again. This time, they are encircling it, his palms warm against your skin and his thumbs on your chin, holding you in place and forcing you to look at him.

Five’s eyes are searching your face, taking in every detail.

“I want you. And I don’t fucking care about Klaus or anyone else. I want you,” he states quietly and breathlessly. “But if you want me to stop, tell me and I will. I’ll leave and you can go back to him.”

You frown, your eyebrows drawing together, as you take in the sharp angles of his face and the evident pain and longing that is written all over it. You could end this right now. He would step back, remove his hands from your body, and let you go. But that’s not what you want.

You shake your head slowly. “No. Don’t leave.”

“Fuck,” he breathes out again as if he’s disappointed in your answer.

There’s no time to contemplate that, however, because you are being hoisted up in one boost, Five’s strength more than enough to lift you easily off the ground. On instinct, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist. You can feel how hard he is as you pass over his groin and he gives a little grunt at the feeling.

It’s all a delirious haze as you cling to him, kissing his face and neck and winding your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. All while he is carrying you down the short hallway to his bedroom, bumping into the doorjamb on the way in, and closing the door behind him with a kick of his foot.

He walks over to the bed, dropping you down a bit ungracefully. Not that you care. You’re too busy trying desperately to shed your clothes as he does the same, the room filling with the sound of your loud and ragged breathing.

Since you were only wearing a t-shirt and shorts, you’re finished before he is and you lie back, watching as he fumbles with his belt buckle and shoves his pants hurriedly down. His shirt is off already, and you take in the hardness of his chest and the way his shoulders and biceps flex and relax with each movement. The tight boxer briefs he is wearing are damp where his hard cock has been leaking into them.

It’s all happening so fast, and he’s on top of you in a matter of seconds, pinning you down to the mattress, both of you naked and clawing at one another. He is grabbing and kneading your ass with one hand while the other one is on your breast, squeezing almost to the point of pain. But it feels so fucking good, and you’re just as forceful; digging your fingers into his hip and raking your nails roughly down the smooth skin of his back.

“Five,” you whine, unable to say anything else as he bites and sucks at your chest.

He’s groaning and gasping against your skin, like he’s drowning; like he can’t get enough. His mouth is everywhere. Your tits, your stomach, your neck.

He lets out a frustrated growl, even as he takes everything he wants and you let him.

“I hate it…” he mumbles, words cut off as he drags a tongue across your hardened nipple.

“What?” you ask after inhaling a sharp breath, your fist tangled in his dark hair.

Five doesn’t stop, even as he answers you, moving further down your body.

“I hate that he kisses you. I hate that he touches you,” he moans, his lips grazing over you and the words hot against your skin.

He pushes your legs apart and you pull in a deep breath, your hips rising off the bed in response. His mouth is on your inner thigh, pressed against it while his words vibrate over and through you.

“I hate that he makes you wet, and knows how you taste.”

Five is on his knees, face buried between your legs as he licks at your pussy, tongue lapping up the continual flow of your arousal and spreading it up through your aching folds. He’s holding you by your waist with both hands, steadying you as you thrust up into him. His mouth is hot and wet as it engulfs you in messy kisses and licks, the tip of his tongue darting over your clit as he drinks in your wetness and swallows it down.

The accuracy is tortuous, as he hits his target each time, leaving you writhing desperately beneath him, biting your bottom lip as you try in vain to quiet the noises he’s eliciting from you.

“Fi-ive…,”you whine pathetically before inhaling another loud breath.

His mouth is off of you again, leaving you soaking wet and desperate for more. Five is back to kissing up your body, going back over the trail he left on the way down. When he gets to your mouth, he kisses you hard and deep. You can taste your own sex on his tongue as it slips past your lips and inside, colliding with yours. As he bites and pulls at your lips with his teeth, you can feel his cock pressing against the inside of your thigh as he moves his hips rhythmically against you.

“I hate that he fucks you. I hate that he makes you come.” He pauses as he lets out another quiet moan. “And I hate that I hate it.”

He has pulled away from you, green eyes boring into you as he looks into yours. He hasn’t bothered with asking if anything he is doing is ok, probably taking your moans and involuntary hip jerks as proof that you were ok with everything. But now, he seems to be waiting for something. An acknowledgment of what he said. A sign that you want what he wants.

“Don’t you know?” you ask him, panting, as you look back at him. “When I close my eyes, it’s always you.”

One corner of his mouth is turned up, more than satisfied with your answer, as he is repositioning himself and shoving inside of you. You cry out, not even trying to hold it back, as your head falls backward and you clutch onto his shoulders. Five’s own loud groans are punctuated by each slow thrust of his hips as he holds himself over you on his forearms. Your eyes meet again, his face hovering over yours, dark hair hanging in messy strands off his forehead.

“Fuuck…I’ve wanted this for so long,” he breathes out, not breaking eye contact.

He’s slamming into you, his more than sizeable dick filling you up with each push. And it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. The way his body fits into yours. The way he looks at you. The intensity mixed with need and want. This is how fucking should feel. And you want to feel this way forever.

He has lowered himself so that your faces are closer; lips just an inch apart. He hasn’t changed his pace, though, still penetrating you over and over again in the perfect rhythm. Your hands run over the tight muscles of his rounded shoulders, nails raking red lines down his back as you lift your legs higher and angle your hips up.

“Look at me,” he demands and you open your eyes immediately in response. “I want you all to myself. I want you to fuck me. Scream for me. Come for me.”

There was no question posed, but you find yourself nodding along, agreeing with each word he says; arching into him and pulling him closer.

It’s not long before the tension is building, the heat spreading out through your groin until it’s no longer bearable. He’s pounding into you with precision and just enough force that you know you’ll be sore tomorrow. But that thought is far back in your mind, and you focus on his loud breathing against your skin, the feral look in his eyes, the way his body moves so perfectly in time with yours.

You come for him, just like he wanted, and you’re loud and desperate; thrashing underneath him, clutching tightly to his sweat-dampened skin. When you moan his name, long and pleading, his thrusts stop as his hips slam into you one more time, his cock unloading inside of you as he shudders and buries his face into the crook of your neck; a painful-sounding growl mixing with his stuttering breath.

Five stays like this, breathing in the scent of your skin and hair, for a minute or two before he lifts himself off of you, lying next to you on his back. He’s still breathing hard, but you can already see the wheels turning in his head; the regret and shame washing over him. You don’t want him to feel like that, though. There’s no reason for him to feel that way.

“Five?” you ask hesitantly.

He turns his head toward you, slowly, hands resting on his chest. You’re not really sure what to say. You want to tell him it’s ok. That you were just as much of a part in this as he is. But you know that will probably make him angry.

“Do you want…” your voice breaks as you look at him, realizing this passionate moment is most likely coming to an end. “Never mind. I can go.”

You sit up and start to maneuver off the bed when you feel his hand on top of yours. When you look back, his face is different. It’s more resolved now, like he’s figured something out.

“No,” he says softly. “Stay.”

“But…” You glance at the closed door of his bedroom, and he knows what you’re thinking because he’s probably thinking the same thing. Klaus. There’s also zero chance that Klaus hadn’t heard your loud cries of his brother’s name and the bed slamming against the wall.

“I don’t care. Stay.” When you look back at him, he smiles just a little. “Please,” he adds.

You return the smile, pushing the covers down so that you can both get underneath. He draws you to him with an arm around your middle and you nestle into his chest. He’s warm and his arm around you is strong, and it feels good.

Neither of you say anything more as you give in to your tiredness, drifting off while Five trails soft lines up and down your arms with his fingers.

Sometime during the night, you feel Five behind you, pressing himself against you and pulling you closer. He’s hard again and lightly kissing your shoulder, running his hand down your arm and then your thigh. You smile sleepily, not even opening your eyes, and push back into him, wordlessly letting him know you want him again.

You’re both caught in that hazy delirium of not being fully awake and Five thrusts into you slowly, rubbing his cheek softly against your hair. It’s passionate and pure, and you might have thought it was a dream if the words he was saying to you weren’t so real.

“I want this,” he whispers into the darkness. “I want this with you. Not just tonight, every night. Please.”

You sigh contentedly, pressing your backside into him as he fucks you perfectly.

“I want this, too. It’s always you, Five,” you answer, reaching your arm back to cradle his head in your hand.

He’s groaning low and desperately, his forehead pressed into your neck.

“I’ll take care of you like you deserve,” he’s pleading as he thrusts harder into you and his hand moves between your legs, urging you on. “Whatever you need, I’ll give to you. I’ll make you happy.”

You whine quietly, already feeling the need for release. “I know you will…I know…” You gasp when he gives one forceful thrust, fingers pressing hard against your clit. “You’re all I need.”

“Please,” he’s murmuring against your neck. “Please let me. I’m all yours, sweetheart. Please,” he keeps repeating, right before you’re both shuddering and moaning as everything builds and you reach your apices together.

The post-orgasmic high you are feeling is mixing with your emotions and your exhaustion, and you blink into the darkness of the room, feeling Five pull out; the hot cum he just pumped into you seeping out and sticking between your bodies. It doesn’t matter, though. He still has you in his arms as you both sink further into the mattress again.

He doesn’t say anything more, and neither do you. You feel him nuzzle into your neck and your hair, his lips pressed against you and you sigh happily. Who knows what the morning will bring, but that is still several hours away, and no matter what, you belong to each other now. You interlace your fingers with his and settle into the perfect curve of his body as you fall back into a peaceful sleep. 

When you wake up, the sunlight is streaming through the window and across Five’s bed, and you are alone. But it doesn’t take long to figure out what woke you up in the first place. Loud voices are arguing, sounding like they are coming from the kitchen, and growing louder by the second.

“You are a massive asshole!”

“Oh, get over yourself, Klaus! You’re only mad because it’s a blow to your fragile ego.”

Klaus gives a sarcastic snort. “Uh, no, actually, I’m mad because my own BROTHER fucked my GIRLFRIEND!”

“She’s not your girlfriend! You’ve made that perfectly clear.”

“What-fucking-ever! It’s still fucked up. It’s still a betrayal!”

You hear Five laugh dangerously and you can picture his stance; body strung tight as a bow, jaw set in defiance, fists clenched.

“You don’t even care about her, Klaus. Admit it.”

There’s a pause as neither one of them say anything. You listen carefully for Klaus’s answer, if he gives one. Finally, he speaks. It’s quiet, but you can just make it out.

“Maybe not. Not in the way that I should, anyway.” He pauses. “But here’s the thing, Five. I cared about you. You know, you’re always reminding me to be careful all the time and not to be so trusting of everyone. Well, you were right; I trusted you and look how that turned out. You’re not my brother. Go fuck yourself.”

You hear footsteps and then the door slams. There’s silence again.

You don’t know what to do, so you stay put. You’re still naked, though, so you scramble off the bed and gather up your underwear and the t-shirt you were wearing. As you yank it over your head, Five opens the door and walks in. He’s carrying two mugs of hot coffee and he hands one silently over to you.

You say thank you as you accept the mug, but your smile of appreciation goes unreturned as Five crosses back the way he came and stands in the open doorway. His face is impassive. Uncaring. The opposite of the passion you saw in his eyes just hours earlier. You frown over your coffee as you take a small sip.

“I heard you and Klaus and I’m so sorry. I know this is hard, but…” you start to say, but Five cuts you off.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Look, I have a lot of things to do today, though, so you should probably get going.”

You flinch at his abruptness and you can’t even pretend to hide your hurt. You see a faint flicker of some emotion in his eyes before it’s gone again. Blank.

“What do you mean? I thought we…” your voice trails off, unable to finish the sentence as the words catch in your throat. You swallow and try again. “You said…”

Five jumps in again before you can finish. “I was drunk, I didn’t know what I was saying,” he replies, his voice flat and unmoving. “I’m sorry if I misled you. Obviously, this was a mistake.”

He says nothing more; just turns around and walks out, leaving you sitting on his bed, coffee cup in hand, and a sick feeling in your stomach. Your chest is tight and it’s hard to breathe. You can’t believe what’s happening right now. How he’s treating you. Your heart is breaking into a million pieces and it’s humiliating.

After you gather your things, pull on your clothes, and pack your bag with the few toiletries and other things you’ve been leaving there, you head out to the living room. Five is there, dressed in his normal black slacks and white button-down, sitting in one of the chairs. He has a newspaper in his lap and he doesn’t look up when you enter. You stand there, staring, until he reluctantly meets your eyes.

You are trying desperately to hold back tears, and for the most part you are doing a good job. But they are there, threatening to spill over at any second. You try to steady your voice.

“I get it if this is hard for you, Five. It’s hard for me, too. I didn’t want to come between you and your brother. But pretending that this was a mistake? That what you said last night didn’t mean anything? That’s bullshit and you know it!”

He cocks his head to the side and crosses one leg over another as he gives you a condescending smirk.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Never heard of a one-night stand?” he sneers.

“Fuck you,” you spit out, your voice hitching in your throat.

You turn away and head for the door before he can see you cry. On your way out, you stop and turn back. He’s still sitting there, looking after you, the same non-expression on his face.

“One last thing before I go. You did this, Five, not me. You pushed me away. So, if you wake up one day and you’re all alone…you only have yourself to blame. Because this could have been something really good.”

You turn and close the door behind you, not even bothering to look back again.

Chapter Six: My Own Worst Enemy

I’ve dealt with a lot of regret in my life. Times when I’ve wanted to kick my own ass and beat the living shit out of me. A couple of times I’ve been successful in rewinding time by a few minutes to fix my mistakes. Other times, not so much. But none of those times, barring that little snafu when I ended up living in a barren wasteland for 45 years, have come close to how much I hate myself right now.

After she slams the door shut, I blink myself over there. My hand is on the doorknob, mid-turn, when I stop myself again. I can’t think straight and I don’t even know what is right or what is wrong anymore. All I know is that all of this is my fault. If I had just kept to myself and kept my dick in my pants, I wouldn’t be standing here like this now. I rest my forehead against the door and squeeze my eyes shut. I briefly think about going back and changing this. I only need a few minutes, not long. I can tell her I’m sorry and that I don’t want her to leave. I can tell her I did mean everything I said before. I can try and fix it. But I don’t.

I slam my fist against the door and kick it at the same time. “FUCK!”

That’s all there is to say in this situation because I may have just lost the two most important people in my life. All because of my stupid, thoughtless actions. I feel bad about Klaus, but I know he’ll eventually get over it. He might not forgive me, but I know he’ll be ok. But her…that look in her eyes when I told her I didn’t mean any of it…I don’t think I can fix that. I wouldn’t even know how, because I don’t think I’ve ever hurt someone that badly and that viciously before. If I have, I hadn’t cared until now.

I had panicked. I thought I had made peace with everything and then Klaus had said what he did to me. You’re not my brother. And he was right. Not only am I not even his biological brother, but I have been on my high horse pretending I can protect him, when really all I do is make shit worse. What kind of a brother, adopted or not, does that?

The thing is, if I had just gone about this in a completely different way, it probably would have turned out just fine. I could have gone to him, told him I had feelings for her and that I thought maybe she felt the same way, and apologize. Maybe he would have been a little mad, but in all reality, he probably would have been fine with it. It’s the way that it happened that really threw a monkey wrench into the whole thing.

I know he wasn’t all that into her, and vice versa. But to take the same girl that your brother has been sleeping with on a regular basis and fuck her (loudly), right down the hall from him without so much as a heads-up-pre-coitus email…that’s probably some sort of code violation right there. Granted, I’m sometimes oblivious to social norms and things other people might describe as “tact”, but I do know this is a pretty blatant faux pas.

I shouldn’t have gotten so pissed. I shouldn’t have gone off to drink my feelings away. I shouldn’t have stayed in the kitchen talking to her. I shouldn’t have done a lot of things.

I was mad at Klaus for not stepping up when he should have, but I was mostly just mad at him for having her in the first place. And then when she came to his defense…that was too much. I had to get out of there before I said or did something even worse. So, I did what I usually do when things get too scrambled in my brain; I went to find some booze.

The bar I chose was the first one I had come across while I was storming down the sidewalk, and I found an empty barstool where I could sit and wallow in self-pity. The place was a total dive, but it was dark and crowded and the bartender had no issue serving me as many shots of whiskey that I asked for. I think I was on my fourth when I noticed the girl on the other end of the bar eye-fucking me. She was cute, with dark brown hair and a minuscule top that didn’t do much to hide her impressive rack. In my drunken state, I found myself staring back at her, which she took as an invitation.

I can hold my liquor, but after five shots, even I’m going to get a little sloppy. Everything was a blur. It was dark, loud, and my senses were all screwed up. She was standing between my legs, leaning in to talk to me, and I could smell her perfume which I didn’t particularly like. I don’t even know what she was saying to me. Her hand was on my thigh and she was purposefully pressing her tits against me as she talked close to my ear. I could feel her hand moving higher up my leg, and she was saying something about leaving together and going back to her place. It sounded like a good idea, but something was off.

I felt her lips brush against my cheek and that’s when I had a moment of clarity. Her voice was all wrong, her perfume was giving me a headache, and if I was paying attention to what she had been saying, I’m sure I would have found her boring. More importantly, she wasn’t her. And if it wasn’t her, I didn’t really give a shit. Grabbing the woman’s wrist with my hand, she stopped her kiss and pulled back, confused.

“Stop,” I said, gradually snapping out of the trance I had been in. When she questioned me, obviously irritated that I would be turning her advances down, I let go of her hand, pushing it off of me. “Go shove your tits in someone else’s face. I’m not interested.”

With a glare, she turned around, but not before she flipped me off and called me an asshole. That’s when I figured I should get out of there before I drank enough that I wouldn’t be able to find my way out. I also figured it would be safe to go home because she would have left the apartment hours before that. Wrong again.

When I saw her there, I just couldn’t keep it up anymore. I couldn’t see the point. And if she had slapped me across the face, or asked me to stop, I would have. I would have been humiliated, but I would have stopped. But she didn’t want me to.

God, I can still feel her body against mine and hear her moaning my name. I can still taste her on my tongue and smell the sweat on her skin. She invaded all of my senses and she’s still clinging to me. I have never begged anyone for anything in my entire life, and yet there I was, pleading with her to be with me. She had said she wanted to, and I could feel how much she meant it. We were going to be happy together; I had promised her I would take care of her like she deserves. It was all right there for me. All of the things I had been dreaming of and wanting for so long. Then I went and fucked it all up.

She was right, too. I will wake up all alone one day, and I will have no one to blame but myself.

It’s a week later, and I’m busy packing up all of my shit into boxes since I plan on moving out tomorrow. I haven’t seen much of Klaus because he hasn’t been around a lot and when he is, he avoids me and locks himself in his room. I had immediately started looking for a new place and I found one that is ok and will be fine short term. It’s also fairly close to her coffee shop, which had not been intentional, but it’s not my fault that’s where it’s located. I’m packing up some books when Klaus comes and stands in the doorway. I look up, startled. He’s holding a bottle of vodka in one hand and two shot glasses in the other.

“Mind if I come in?” he asks.

“Sure, come on in.”

He walks in and sits down on the edge of my bed. He puts the shot glasses on the side table and pours vodka into each of them, filling them to the top before he sets the bottle down. He hands one over to me and I take it from him even though I’m confused as hell right now.

“What’s this for?” I ask.

Klaus shrugs. “I don’t know, but I feel like we should have one more drink together before you move out.”

I don’t know how to respond to that, so I just follow his lead and hold my glass up in a toast before slinging it back. It burns on the way down but it tastes good.

“You don’t have to leave, you know,” Klaus says after a long pause.

“Yes, I do.”

He sighs and looks around my room. “Look, I know this is a weird situation, and I am still mad at you, but that doesn’t mean I want you to leave.”

“You told me I wasn’t your brother and to go fuck myself,” I remind him.

“Ah, yes, well…perhaps I was a bit over-dramatic. I was just a tad hungover still and you were yelling just so loudly. Really, Five, your voice just pierces right into the brain sometimes and makes people say things just to get you to stop.” I shake my head. “No, you were the appropriate amount of dramatic and I don’t blame you. You’re right, I’m a shitty brother and I messed up big time. Which is why I need to leave.”

“Look, Five, I didn’t mean all of that, ok? Yes, I was pissed. And yes, maybe what you did was not the greatest thing ever. But you were also right.”

“About what?”

“About not caring about her. I realize that regardless of our status, I still was a pretty shitty friend to her. I’m glad she had you here. Even if you did rail her hard enough I think even I could feel it.”

I cringe. “Klaus, I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t begin to cover it, but I truly am sorry.”

He nods thoughtfully. “So…how long have you been in love with her?”

I stare, open-mouthed and wide-eyed; dumbstruck. Klaus laughs.

“You think you’re so smart and slick all of the time, but I got news for you Fivey…you ain’t.”

“What are you talking about?” I sputter out, even though it’s about the worst acting anyone’s ever done.

Klaus rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “It’s ok, you can admit it. I’m not dumb or blind. Or deaf, as it turns out. I know how you operate around people, and I have never seen you like you are when you’re with her. You are one smitten kitten and you know what? Good for you.”

I am about to protest again, but when I go to deny it, I realize I just don’t have the heart or the energy for it. “Ok, you’re right, I love her. I’m sorry, but I do. I have for a while now.”

He nods and smiles, not shocked by this information. “Like I said, good for you. You deserve love and happiness in your life, Five. Would I have preferred it to be with someone I hadn’t also bumped uglies with? Probably. But hey, love works in mysterious ways, right? I mean, look at me! I fell in love with someone I met after falling out of the sky in the middle of a fucking war zone. Talk about bad timing! I guess we Hargreeves are good at bad timing, though, aren’t we?”

He laughs, even though it’s more sad than funny and I stand there for a minute in thought. Then I come to a conclusion.

“There’s only one way I’m going to feel better about this and be able to move on with a reasonably clear conscience.”

“What’s that?”

“You have to hit me.”

Klaus looks at me in disbelief. “Uh…yeah, ok, Five. I’m not falling for that.”

I shake my head and roll my shoulders back, facing him head-on. “No, I mean it. I want you to punch me directly in the face. I won’t hit back or defend myself.”

“Five, I don’t want to hit you…”

“Come on! I’m sure you’ve thought about it on several occasions before. Well, now here’s your chance. For the second time in your life, you can hit me in the face without any backlash. I promise.”

He chuckles. “Oh yeah, that was a fun day. But seriously, even if I did want to hit you, which I don’t, I’m not even good at it, you know that. I never have been. I’m like one of those guys in old cartoons where they swing and miss and just spin around in a circle.”

“Klaus, for fucks sake, stand up and punch me in the fucking face!”

After another pause, he stands up in front of me. He’s still taller than me, despite me being at my full height now. He looks down on me nervously and I see his fists clench and unclench.

“Really? You really want me to do this?”

I nod. “I really do.” Then I hold my finger up. “However, just remember this is one hit.”

He shrugs and lifts his fist up, pulling it back and I close my eyes to brace myself. WHAM! He gets me right in the jaw and he is a big fucking liar because he is good at it and it hurts like a motherfucker.

“Son of a…Fuck!” I yell, holding my face. I swear I can already feel a bruise forming and I run my tongue over my teeth to make sure they are all still accounted for.

“Oh my god, Five, are you ok? Shit, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I actually did that!” Klaus is panicking at first but after a couple of seconds, he starts laughing. “I can’t believe I actually did that. And you haven’t killed me or even maimed me! Man, I got you good, too.”

“Yeah,” I mumble, still rubbing my throbbing jaw. “Turns out it hurts a whole lot more when you know it’s coming.” Klaus continues to laugh at my pain, and even though it hurts to move my face, I grin up at him. “This was a one-time offer, by the way. So, don’t be thinking you’re hot shit, because I will drop you without a second thought.”

Klaus gives a sarcastic salute. “Message received, big bro.” He purses his lips together and gestures to the boxes around my room. “So, are you still leaving?”

I nod. “Yes, I’m still leaving. And it’s not even all because of that. I don’t think it’s doing either of us any good to be living together like this. I have realized that I was using you as an excuse not to move on with my life. I told myself I was doing you a favor when in reality, I was just looking for a purpose. Any purpose. But I need to figure that out for myself.”

“Ok, but you’re just going to leave me all alone here?”

I shrug. “Maybe Luther wants to move in.”

Klaus looks horrified. “Good lord, no thank you! You skipped out on the grosser years of having to live with that barn animal and let me tell you, it’s no picnic. I don’t need giant pairs of tighty whities thrown around my bathroom, or having boxes of my favorite cereal eaten up in two days.”

I grin and clap him on the shoulder. “You’ll figure it out, Klaus. You always do. And you don’t need me to help you do it, either.”

“Thanks, Fivey,” he says softly, before catching me off guard and pulling me in for a bear hug, trapping me against his chest.

“Ah! My face! Let go, you stupid asshole!” He lets me go and I rub at my jaw again, glaring up at him. He is unfazed so I just shake my head. Klaus will always be Klaus, and I meant what I said. He’ll be just fine without me here.

*********************************************************************

“Feet. Off. The coffee table,” I say as I whack at Klaus with a rolled-up newspaper like he’s a cat on a kitchen counter.

“Hey! Geez, alright…keep your shirt on, old man,” he protests as he tries to guard himself with his hands while removing his feet from where they were propped. “What’s got your little assassin bonnet full of bees today?”

“Nothing! Maybe I just don’t want your disgusting feet all over my furniture.”

Klaus tilts his head to the side, looking up at me. “No…I don’t think that’s it. You seem even more murderous lately than normal.” Then his face lights up. “I know! I bet you haven’t been laid in a while, that’s got to be it. That’s an easy fix, too, because I bet if I go outside right now and made an announcement that the infamous and very sexy Number Five Hargreeves was looking for some action, you’d have a stampede of pretty ladies and probably some pretty men breaking down your door.”

“Klaus,” I start to say before he interrupts.

“Wait! Here’s a better idea. Me and you, we go on the prowl tonight. I’ll take you to some great clubs where you can meet someone that’s suitable for banging. Well, they’re not clubs as much as warehouses full of people tripping on acid, but still. I guarantee I can get you laid by the end of the night.”

“Klaus.”

“Yeah?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

When he manages to look like a kicked puppy, I roll my eyes and sigh. “Thank you for your concern over my sex life, but I do not need to get laid. I’m fine.”

He eyes me up and when I look away guiltily, he gasps with a hand on his chest. “Hang on. Do not tell me the last time you put your banana in a fruit salad was with…”

My silence is the only answer he needs and he gives another dramatic gasp, which makes me grit my teeth together.

“Holy shit, Fivey! Well, no fucking wonder you’ve got your man panties in a wad lately.”

“Again, and I say this with the utmost love and respect…shut the fuck up.”

He stands up. “No, no, no…I will not shut up! So, you’re telling me that over the past six months , you’ve been carrying a torch for her? Wow, that is some romantic shit right there. But still, that shouldn’t stop you from driving the ol’ Pope mobile into some lucky lady’s Vatican now and then.”

“What is wrong with you?”

“We don’t have time to get into all of that right now. Besides, this is about you. I’m serious, Five, you can’t go on re-living your virgin years just because you’re a little hung up on one person.”

I shake my head and put my hands in my pockets. “I’m not just hung up on her. She’s all I think about. All day, all night. I still love her, Klaus.”

I don’t know why I let my walls down just now and told him the truth, but the fact is we have actually been getting along much better now that we aren’t under the same roof anymore. I’m starting to feel a little more comfortable talking about things with him. And the nice thing about Klaus is that he’s done so many weird and fucked up things in his life, he never judges.

“Oh, Five,” he says sadly. “I had no idea. You never mentioned it so I just assumed you’d moved on.”

“Yeah, well…it’s fine. I’ll get over it eventually.”

“You know, the easy solution to this is to walk your cute buns over to that coffee place of hers and tell her what you just told me. Confess your undying love. Sweep her off her feet.”

I laugh and run a hand through my hair. “Yeah, I don’t think that would work. Pretty sure she hates my guts. And for good reason.”

“Listen, as someone who had a very close seat to the ‘Five Hargreeves Fuck-tacular’ show, I’m going to bet she doesn’t hate your guts. No one sounds like that while getting their naughty bits plowed into oblivion and then just forgets about it.”

Ignoring that little comment, I shake my head. “You don’t understand. I really fucked this one up and I don’t think there’s any way to come back from it.”

“Well, all you can do is try. If she hates you, then it’s as you suspected and you can move on. If not, then you two can sail off into the sunset together. There’s really nothing to lose here.”

He has a point, but the thought of just walking in there to try and talk to her is terrifying. I’m not sure I have the balls for it.

“Want me to go talk to her for you?” he asks.

“What? No!” When I see him smile mischievously, I jab my finger at him. “I’m warning you, Klaus, if you go over there and so much as even mention my name, I swear to god I will blink you to Antarctica and leave you there.”

Klaus waves his hand at me. “Please…you’ve been threatening that since we were kids. You really need to come up with something new. But, fine, I won’t go over there.”

When I nod my approval, I assume this conversation is done. It’s not, apparently, and Klaus grins at me again.

“In the meantime, how about I set you up on some casual dates? You don’t want to be out of practice if your lady decides to take you back. What do you think? You up for a game of pelvic pinochle? Burying the weasel? Filling the cream donut? Launching the meat missile?”

I massage my temples with my fingers, trying to fight off the headache I can feel forming behind my eyes. “For the love of all that is holy, Klaus, can you please shut the fuck up? I am begging you.”

He gives his annoying little Klaus giggle. “Sure thing, Fivey. Whatever you say.”

“Thank you.”

Four days later I’m whacking at him with the newspaper again. This time for a different reason.

“Ow! I didn’t mention your name, just like you told me, I swear! Ow!”

“You talked to her and gave her my address!” I yell, whacking at him harder around the head.

“Damnit, cut it out! You said don’t mention your name and I didn’t. She just happened to know who I was talking about. OW!”

I stop my assault and stand there, breathing hard through my nose as I glare at my stupid ass brother. “Why? Why the fuck did you do that?”

“Listen, Fivey, I love you and all but you are really your own worst enemy. I’m trying to move things along for you; help you out. You can’t stay here, all pent-up with sexual energy and moping around the house for the rest of your life. Don’t you want to get out there and live? Don’t you want someone to share your life with?”

I sigh and flop down into an armchair. He’s right, of course, even if I don’t want to admit it. “Maybe,” I mutter.

“Of course you do! That’s what everyone wants in life. And you, old timer, have been given the gift of time and the chance to start over. That’s like everyone’s dream! So, don’t just sit here and waste a gift like that. Not when you could be out there spreading a little of that teleporting-genius-infused DNA around with your special man sauce.”

I make a face. “Gross. Please don’t say ‘man sauce’ again.”

“Anyway…she didn’t say she wanted you dead and she accepted the piece of paper I gave her, so…I don’t know, those are both good things, right?”

“I guess. Did she say anything else?” I ask, trying not to get my hopes up.

Klaus shakes his head. “No, sorry.”

I wasn’t expecting anything, but it still feels like a bit of a blow. I nod, and then I look at Klaus suspiciously. “Did you say anything else?”

He puts a hand to his chest. “Who, moi ? Of course not. Well, I did apologize for everything that went down, but like I said, your name didn’t come up.”

“Hmm…why do I get the feeling that’s not the full truth?”

Klaus shrugs innocently. “I have no idea, but trust me. I bet any day now she’ll come knocking on your door wanting some more of that sweet, sweet loving from you. Just you wait.”

As if his prophecy was about to be fulfilled at that precise moment, I glance towards the door. What would I even say if she really did show up here? I had been avoiding her place like the plague, even though that meant taking much longer routes to certain places. Except for those few times when I couldn’t help myself and I watched through the windows from across the street and then blinked away before she could spot me. Otherwise, the thought of having to face her again makes my stomach churn. So, maybe Klaus did do me a favor. Maybe she really will hunt me down and knock on my door one day soon. If she does, I’m sure it will be just for the opportunity to chew me out. But, even so, the thought of seeing her standing in front of me again makes my pulse race just a little faster.

Link to the next few chapters here!

@baileebear

[imperfectskeleton]

Animorphs #4 - The Message 13-17

Another staple morph: the seagull. Time for the constant barrage of snack descriptions, which is pretty fun and different from how you’d normally describe an environment. Just getting the geography of an environment does get pretty boring, and the animal senses and perceptions focus on different things. It’s fun.

There’s a bit of a format in the early books of “if at first you don’t succeed”. The Visitor, Rachel follows Chapman again more from personal stubbornness than because the plan didn’t work. Also, the first recon trip as Fluffer wasn’t great. The Encounter, it takes two trips to the lake for them to have a plan they’re acting on (and the first trip is distinctly bad, never mind their *brilliant* trout plan). This book, first time they have only a vague idea of what they’re doing and Marco nearly gets killed so second time they make minimal changes.

When they’re reviewing what they know Cassie mentions Tobias doesn’t really like being inside but honestly you can’t convince me he like being inside as a human

This book may have the only Marco-Cassie one on one where he’s actually willing to open up to her. In part it’s that it’s early days, he hasn’t yet fallen got his walls up as high as they’ll be later in the war. But it’s probably also that he recognises she feels bad for being the one to make the call to follow the dream.

It’s also the most honest view of what Marco’s life has been like since his mom died. Everyone else mentions it in passing, Cassie is an unexpected witness. And Marco, while he’s honest, doesn’t like sharing.

Jake and Cassie not dating is truly the most thirteen year old love of all time. Like he’s been to her house for thanksgiving (insane). They’re ok being silent together. She can’t say she cares about him explicitly so she settles for “don’t ever get hurt”

And it’s early Jake, so while he already knows it’s a joke, he still means “I’m indestructible.” They’re going to win the war and right the wrongs.

Rachel swan diving off a ship and Jake and Cassie throwing blame for being friends with her. Ridiculous.

Marco having one of his beating everyone to the punch days so that they don’t give up on his account. It’s funny what he does for the group.

Also, the animorphs’ first morph in open ocean. Scary.

I fully believe that Jake sucks at maths. My headcanons for human animorph maths ability are as follows: Marco has the most natural skill, but barely passes because he’s bored and rushes exams. Rachel does the best academically, Tobias is pretty good with a natural talent for geometry. Cassie hates maths but gets better grades than Jake. Jake is terrible unless it’s remembering numbers related to things he’s interested in. Ax is in a different league, and is rather annoyed whenever Marco competes in it because he grasps things a little too quickly.

One descriptor I always kind of skipped over was the size. Half a mile in diameter. In my head it was maybe half that. It makes sense of course but still.

Also, hilarious that they’re in and demorphed before Ax knocks them out. Honour I guess.

[tsalala]

Naming tigers is common practice not just in Panna but in tiger reserves across India. Some are named for specific physical features; others earn their monikers based on behavioural traits and sighting patterns.

One of the most popular tigers, known as Machli worldwide, was officially T-16 of the Ranthambore National Park. The 19-year-old became the poster child for the government’s tiger conservation programme.

[…] When Machli passed away, it wasn’t just the forest officials who mourned—visitors and residents from nearby villages did too. She was given a respectful funeral: her body covered in flowers and carried by forest officials to be buried.*

“She had been sick for a while before she died, but she had shown grit and survived [illnesses] before. We thought she would fight this illness too, but she didn’t,” said Sudharshan Sharma, who was the divisional forest officer at Ranthambore Tiger Reserve at the time. He added that her passing felt like a personal loss for the forest staff.

This might sound like a heartwarming relationship between a tigress and her guardians, but it’s for this very reason that government and wildlife experts advise against naming wild animals.

In fact, the National Tiger Conservation Authority (NTCA) prohibits the practice of naming tigers.

Officially, tigers in India are assigned a unique code—a combination of letters and numbers. The letter corresponds to the reserve where the tiger is located, followed by their number in the sequence of birth or identification.

[…] “The tiger conservation project, or any wildlife conservation project, needs to be carried out scientifically and objectively. When you start attributing human-like qualities to wild animals, conservation decisions can become biased,” said a senior official from the Union Ministry of Environment, Forests and Climate Change (MoEFCC).

He acknowledged that Machli once became an ambassador for India’s tiger conservation efforts, but said that now that the tiger population has remained stable for the past few years, it’s a good time to move away from the practice.

Despite strict instructions to local forest officials to avoid naming the inhabitants of their reserves, the practice continues. For officials and local residents, it is just an easier way to identify the tigers and build an aura around them—something that helps attract tourists.

*This is incorrect. Machli was cremated to avoid bounty hunters stealing her body parts.

[ladybugbirdie42]

Anastasia Camp Formation Story Translation Pt 5

First | Previous

5

In a corner of the Royal Capital’s commercial district, there is a bar called “Silver Shield” which is frequented by the kingdom’s knights.

The owner is a former royal knight who retired due to an injury, and as a result of his colleagues and subordinates who admired him spreading the word about him among the knights, the bar has become an unusual place with only knights as regular customers. The bar’s reputation is excellent, but the owner laments that because there are so many knights among the customers, regular customers don’t come.

Julius had also found out about this bar after joining the knights. Since then, he had been a frequent visitor for several years, but it wasn’t just for the food and drinks.

“Mr. Conwood, I’d like to borrow the back room.”

“Sure thing. …It’s rare to have both the ‘Finest’ and the ‘Sword Saint’. Please don’t plot anything evil. It would be terrible if the country were to be turned upside down.”

“Don’t worry. Our swords are there to stop it from being turned upside down. Like a shoddy pole.”

“——. Haha, that’s what a Knight among Knights would say.”

When the owner laughed at the end of the exchange, the whole bar, having heard the joke, became noisy.

Behind that, the owner tossed a key over the counter. Reinhard took the key with a wry smile and handed it to Julius who headed to the back of the bar.

At the back of the bar was a private room—a room with thick walls that provided some soundproofing.

The reason why the Silver Shield was so highly valued by knights was because there was no need to worry about secret conversations taking place in the bar being leaked. The owner and customers were all people connected to the knights, making it a special privilege.

“So, we came all the way here to have a secret chat. Can I assume it has something to do with the royal selection?”

After locking the door to the private room, Reinhard, leaning against the wall, got straight to the point.

The room had a round table and two chairs, no unnecessary decorations, and was a room made entirely for private conversations. Now that Reinhard had spoken, there was no need to worry about his voice leaking out. In that regard, Julius had complete confidence in his red-haired friend.

Therefore, Julius, leaning against the table, lowered his chin in response to Reinhard’s question,

“As you may already know, a third candidate has been found. I recommended her to the Council today, and they have confirmed her qualifications.”

“Her…that means the third candidate is also a woman. At this rate, it looks like all the dragon priestesses may end up being women.”

“Are you unhappy with the idea of a woman being on top?”

“I have no complaints if the person is deemed worthy of the throne. However, the next king will, in short, be the founder of the next royal line. It may sound bad, but it’s easier for men to pass on their bloodline.”

As Reinhard looked at the royal selection from a different angle, Julius silently touched his own bangs.

The current Kingdom of Lugunica is not only without a king, but is also facing the danger of the royal family being cut off. As Reinhard feared, the next king will be the first of a new royal family.

In view of these circumstances—

“—I think it would be natural for Lady Crusch to become king after all.”

“The Duchess’s family is a family that has always been close to the royal family. There is no small amount of royal blood flowing in their veins. And above all, Lady Crusch has great potential.”

“She herself is very keen to take the throne.”

The more he spoke about the current situation, the more he felt that the optimal solution had already been presented.

Crusch Karsten had the makings of a king. She also had a good reason to desire the throne.

The reason why she was so strongly attached to the throne—even Julius knew it, though to a lesser extent.

“The entire royal family fell ill. So, it may be disrespectful to mourn just one person, but…it’s regrettable what happened to Prince Fourier.”

“Reinhard…”

“His Highness was an equal person. That was something I could say about all the members of the royal family, but I had many opportunities to interact with Prince Fourier. He didn’t treat the ‘Sword Saint’ with any special consideration…Well, I’m sure Ferris was the one he had his eye on.”

“Or rather, Ferris and Lady Crusch, right?”

Both Reinhard and Julius smiled as they thought of the same person. Thinking back, the only memories that the owner of that name had were ones that warmed their hearts.

That was the kind of person Fourier Lugunica, the fourth prince of the Kingdom of Lugunica was.

Julius hadn’t had many contacts with him, but even with the few he’d had, he’d gained a lot from them.

Crusch, who had been close to him and likely shared his feelings, had much more—

“—Therefore, it may be most natural for Lady Crusch to inherit the will of the late Prince Fourier and ascend the throne. I also think that this is a noble and beautiful thing to do.”

“But you’re not convinced. That’s what you sound like.”

“——”

Reinhard pointed out to Julius, whose words had gotten heated in the latter half of his sentence, his voice trembling at the end. Julius closed his eyes at his words, and remembered what had happened at the royal castle just before.

Facing Anastasia, Crusch had declared that she would give it her all in the royal selection.

It was a declaration of war, and though it was typical of Crusch, who preferred to play it fair and square, there was something about it that made him feel uneasy.

Surely, the cause of this unease lay in the root of Crusch’s obsession with the throne.

The reason why Crusch wanted to take part in the royal selection and become the king of this country, her true intention was surely—

“—So that we won’t forget, I suppose.”

There was a great royal family member who remained as a warm wound in the hearts of Julius and Reinhard.

What if there was something that had carved a strong, large, deep, burning wound on that person’s existence that would never heal?

Even though you wish that you would never forget, that you would never let anyone else forget, the sweet pain of that wound—

“It’s frustrating that I can’t put it into words.”

“…No matter what the driving force may be, as long as it moves in the right direction, I don’t mind. I have no doubt that Lady Crusch will govern well. That goes for you too, doesn’t it?”

“Of course. However, that is…”

Pausing his words, Julius groped around in his mind, searching for the perfect words. There had to be words somewhere that would properly express the feelings that lingered in his heart.

And as he searched, his fingertips tracing his memory touched something.

It was a very succinct, spontaneous comment from someone that got straight to the point.

“That is—Is it a story that looks good?”

“Julius?”

“Should we accept that the king who holds the throne of the kingdom has her heart bound by something? Even if she is a wise ruler who rules well, is it the honor of a knight to place a wounded woman on the throne?”

He’d been told that before.

It was a knight’s job to look good. If you look good as a knight, you will naturally become more like a knight. You will embody the honor of chivalry.

Those words put into words the ideal that Julius had in mind almost perfectly.

“I believe in the code of chivalry. The loyalty I have given to the kingdom is true. Therefore, if I offer my sword to my country and to my king, I do not want to go against my code or my loyalty.”

“Is that chivalry something that cannot be followed under Lady Crusch?”

“Under Lady Crusch’s current circumstances, it cannot. However, it is not my place to say anything about it. That person has already been appointed a knight. Therefore, that role does not belong to me.”

What comes to mind is a friend of his who is a knight who worries that he doesn’t look like a knight.

He knew that he had sworn absolute loyalty to Crusch, whom he regarded as his master. So it was possible that something like that could never happen. Or, it was possible that his own thoughts were completely misguided and he had completely missed the mark.

But if Julius was right and would not turn away from his principles or loyalty and continue to be a knight—

“—I want to dedicate my sword to someone I can trust without any hesitation.”

“——”

Julius spoke these words with passion and force. Reinhard, who had heard them from the beginning, raised his eyebrows in slight surprise.

However, his red-haired friend, leaning against the wall, nodded several times,

“I think it’s good. It’s very Julius-like and cool.”

“…It’s more than a little embarrassing to hear you say that.”

“I was just being honest. You don’t often show that side of yourself to those around you. That’s why people often misunderstand you. They don’t realize that the real you is so straightforward, it’s almost too straightforward.”

Reinhard gave a wry smile, and Julius looked away, feeling embarrassed.

It’s just the way he was born. He couldn’t change it now, and he didn’t want to. It’s sad that it causes misunderstandings, but it would be counterproductive to let it cause him to compromise his character. Moreover, it wouldn’t be elegant.

“However, from what I’ve heard so far, I’ve only heard your statement of intent. It’d be fun to have a heated discussion with a friend about the future of the kingdom, but…that’s not the real purpose, is it?”

“That’s right. I’ve gone off topic a bit. It’s a bad habit of mine to go off on a tangent. Sorry.”

“There are other views to be had on the way. I don’t mind.”

Julius nodded to Reinhard at his friendly response. Then, he finally got to the main subject that he had summoned Reinhard to the private room for.

That was—

“—‘Sword Saint’ Reinhard van Astrea. The highest-ranking swordsman in the Dragon Kingdom of Lugunica, the ‘Knight among Knights’, I have a favor to ask of you.”

“Let me hear it.”

This was not a proposal from a friend, but from the standpoint of a knight. Sensing this, Reinhard moved away from the wall and uncrossed his arms.

Seeing not his red-haired friend, but the current ‘Sword Saint’, Julius closed his eyes.

However, he only closed his eyes for a moment.

“Anastasia Hoshin—that is the name of the woman who has been recognized as a dragon priestess and joined as the third candidate for the royal selection.”

“Hoshin…”

Reinhard frowned slightly at the familiar family name. However, Julius put aside the small feeling he had and continued speaking.

“I see in Lady Anastasia the potential to be king. Therefore, I would like to ask you, Reinhard…to be her knight and support her in the royal selection process.”

—That was Julius Juukulius’s best answer for the royal selection.

Next

[celeluwhenfics]

I was just tagged by @inkedmoth on a last line tag game, and instead of following the rules I just went and wrote an entire passage from scratch, oops? It's not a fic, it's an original work I'm writing based on the ABSOLUTELY BATSHIT CRAZY experiences I'm having here. It's still very unpolished, I can't format properly on my phone and once you find out yhe real event that inspired it you'll understand I didn't sleep THAT well, but hopefully it gives you an idea of what's on my mind these days as I'm very much not active on the dash?

***

At dinner, one of the White researchers had once again proved that money and diplomas couldn't buy common sense. The park is double fenced, with all entries are guarded against intruders, she had said; and the camp is fenced against large animals. Wasn't it a bit overkill to have two armed rangers guarding the camp every night?

Kiptoo laughed in a dry cascade, his shoulders jumping until he had to secure again the sling of his rifle.

'Just sleep, Mam,' he said, and his good humour had been enough to amuse the guests into avoiding further silly questions.

But Beth's eyes had gone to William. He had just smiled and shaken his head, taking a sip of coffee. Visitors never took him seriously, especially the women. They stared at him, so tall and straight in the green ribbed sweater of his uniform, the combat pants, the kepi and the scratched rifle hanging at his back. They saw his high cheekbones, his great soft eyes and perfect lips, and they asked to take pictures with him. He was part of their dream safari, and they would bring home images of him alongside their best shots of lions and elephants. It was only a matter of time before tour operators would print his picture on flyers and tourist cars. 'Come experience Africa at its most authentic! Real Maasai rangers will risk their life to keep your wealthy idiotic mzungu asses safe!'

But suddenly Beth thought of the smell of wood smoke and dust on his skin: that she had never forgotten. She tried to think of something else, or to catch a look from him, to guess what he thought. But his eyes stayed down, fixed on his coffee, as Kiptoo told of the elephant who used to visit the camp at night, his enthusiasm bridging the gaps in his English: a flow of words that would bring good tips.

It was only a little after the lights were out that they heard the first gunshot. Sitting on her bed, Beth held her breath. That hadn't happened in months. The tourist's questions had brought bad luck. An oppressive silence followed, with the night birds startled and the people listening for what would come next. It had been close, terribly close. She reached for the solar lamp, which faintly buzzed on. A second shot popped the silence and echoed sharply. What could it be? Would they hear human voices, if it was someone? It didn't sound like an exchange of fire. William had three shots, and Kiptoo had one, therefore... Staring at the wall, she tried to calculate scenarios, imagine what it would sound like if poachers-- No, it must be the rangers scaring away animals, surely.

She heard Kiptoo pant as he ran past her door, towards the gunshots: William had been alone with the threat. Her throat convulsed. A third shot resounded, and guests stirred in their huts, speaking and - yes - laughing. Beth's hands clasped the covers to keep them from shaking, and she murmured a prayer. For the camp's safety, for the animal, that no blood had been spilled so close, so close, and for William. William alone in the dark. And she waited, and waited.

Moments passed, marked by the slow return of the night sounds, first the insects, then the birds, then a lazy hyena whooping in the distance, and the guests' snores. Kiptoo didn't shoot. She slowly made her way under her covers, wishing she could be sure of what happened before going to sleep. She laid motionless, hoping for a sound, a sign, that could quiet her heart's race and bring peace to her sleep.

After perhaps half an hour, the plop of a lizard on the canopy of her bed jolted her awake from an anxious doze. She scowled at the trivial, ugly pink reptile as it wriggled away into a crack of the wall. But first faintly, then distinctly, she heard footsteps approaching. Silently she untangled herself from the covers and the mosquito net, and cracked open the door.

There was the click of an ammunition box: it was William. She called to him with a rangers' hiss. He seized, tensely surveying the darkness until he recognized her as the source of the sound. She could tell from the fall of his shoulders that he rolled his eyes.

'What was it?' she asked in a whisper.

'Lions. Sellah's pride.'

'Are you ok?'

'Yeah, I was just shooting up. Sorry for the commotion.'

She sighed in relief. The night was still now, and the clear sky had a hundred million stars, obscured only by the silent flickering flight of fat fruit bats between the trees. Lions close to the camp, the tourists would like that story. William was safe, and he was right there. Perhaps, the moment was right, and at last he would--

'I need to move on,' he whispered. 'Go to bed.'

And without awaiting for an answer, he walked away. The step of his boots on the path and the clacking of his gun against his belt vanished in the thick choir of nocturnal multitudes singing in the grass.

'Usiku mwema, sukari' she murmured to the darkness. 'Please, stay safe.'

***

Tagging (more like, saying hello to) @from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras @emmathefanficgal @butoridesvirescens @torchwood-99 @dilettantefeminist @hastyhobbit , if you want to share part of a recent WIP?

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

I saw someone saying that the farmer is “special” (explaining why they always get to see the blue jellyfish every summer) and this idea came to my head.

May I request some headcanons on the adventurer’s POV where they realized the farmer is “special”, and kinda fall for them the moment they realized that?

Think of it as like the lantern scene between Eugene and Rapunzel in Tangled. Thanks in advance ^^

Honestly, it turned out more like one-shot than headcanon, but I hope you enjoy this format as well, dear anon. Thanks for the ask! 🫰💕

_________________________________________

Alesia:

It had been so long since Alesia had set foot in the Cindersap Forest. The last time she'd been here was probably ten years ago, when Marlon had taken her to train and gather mushrooms for brewing elixirs. It hadn't changed much since she'd moved to Castle Village, so it would be easy for her to remember all the paths here. Venturing deeper into the forest, she scrutinised the majestic poplars, looking for the secluded spots of mushroom colonies and simply enjoying nature. After all, she had missed the forest...

The archer's attention was drawn to some movement behind the dense blackberry bushes. Crouching down and trying not to make a sound, she curiously crept closer and closer until she finally reached the bushes. What Alesia saw made her very surprised. She had expected to see a fox or a grouse, but instead she saw the Farmer surrounded by wild deer.

A young male, three females, and four fawns - one big friendly family of noble creatures that surrounded the Farmer and would not let them pass. The adult deer licked Farmer's hands, jostling slightly in an attempt to take all attention for themselves, while the little fawns jumped and galloped around unrestrainedly. One even stole a tasty cave carrot from the Farmer's basket.

Alesia was so amused by this picture, how all these forest creatures demanded the Farmer's attention, affection, to be scratched behind the ears... And the way the Farmer glows with happiness, how they genuinely laugh and smile...

The crunch of a dry branch that the sniper stepped on immediately made all the deer turn their heads in her direction and prick up their ears. The male shook the signal and the whole herd galloped away, leaving the slightly confused Farmer alone.

Alesia emerged from the bushes and nodded a greeting to Farmer.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare them," she smiled slightly guiltily at Farmer.

"Actually, I should thank you. They follow me around forever when I'm picking berries in the forest," Farmer was still smiling just as broadly. "Or else they'd steal all my carrots from me!"

That event was something Alesia would remember for a long time after returning to the Galdoran Continent.

Lance:

The Lunaloo migration, or Moonlight Jellies as they are commonly known, is perhaps one of the most majestic phenomena Lance has ever seen. They are frequent visitors not only to the Stardew Valley, but also to Ginger Island, so Lance was able to enjoy the beautiful sight without leaving his post.

Once again, the pale light emanating from the magical jellyfish illuminated the entire shore. Lance sensed this energy and quickly teleported to the docks. However, he didn't know that there were more spectators here who had come to see the jellyfish.

Farmer had been on Ginger Island for a month now and their presence wasn't too surprising. But as far as the pink-haired adventurer could remember, all the people of the Valley come together on this day. So why is the Farmer here? And alone?

Lance wanted to call out to them, but stopped himself when he noticed something even more unusual: at least five green, Shining Lunaloo were swimming very close to Farmer when they put their hand into the sea water. Such jellyfish were very rare, and the fact that there were as many as five floating near Farmer...

"A wonderful sight, don't you think?" Lance thought to himself that he should learn not to scare people with his sudden appearance, for this was the second time he'd made them jump in surprise. "Sorry, my friend, didn't mean to disturb you."

"That's okay, don't worry," Farmer assured him, and then their attention turned back to the jellyfish. "Look how beautiful!" they pointed with their hand at the glowing water.

"Beautiful creatures, indeed," Lance agreed.

The two stood in silence for half a minute, only the sound of the sea waves and the distant noise of the local jungle fauna could be heard.

"You know," Farmer broke the silence, "I don't know why, but those jellyfish, the green one, always come near me. Strange, isn't it?"

"Lunaloo are creatures imbued with magic. So it's no wonder they sense magic in you, too." Or something special, Lance wanted to add, but decided not to distract the Farmer any further with conversation, examining the jellyfish closer and setting himself up for dreamy thoughts.

Isaac:

Fireflies... They were strange creatures, at least to Isaac, who had never seen fireflies. In fact, neither had he seen any of the other fauna of the forest. The dark-haired adventurer was so used to the quicksand and bloody fog of the Crimson Baldlans that he was beginning to wonder about fireflies. Even the gardens created by their witch Camilla in Castle Village can't compare to the beauty of nature. And yes, Isaac was a connoisseur of beauty too, even but only a couple of people knew it.

He was standing on the dock near Marlon's boat, enjoying the silence of the night and the scenery of Adventurer Summit. And then, it flew past him - a glowing bug that caught the Isaac's attention. The firefly flew higher and higher, and without knowing why, Isaac followed the insect up the stairs. What was his surprise when the firefly he was following headed straight for the Farmer, who was surrounded by dozens of other fireflies.

Like a large camp lantern, they stood motionless, trying not to scare away the bugs that had managed to land on their sleeves. Noticing Isaac, the Farmer chugged a smile.

"Hey, good night. Um. Yeah, I know I look a little silly for you, right?" Silence was the answer for Farmer, and they weren't surprised at that - Isaac was a man of few words. The most they could hear from the monster hunter was a snort because the Farmer had once again interrupted his rest and enjoyment of solitude with his noisy company.

But the scarred man had a completely different look - there was no rolling of the eyes, no irritation, no anger, no indifference. His gaze was so soft and so unnatural to Isaac that the Farmer was a little confused.

Isaac, after all, was a connoisseur of beauty, and now he was looking at something more beautiful. Maybe something more beautiful than even the fireflies.

[jeonstellate]

timestamp: stark

it’s 11:33 am when you make chan an offer he can’t refuse.

๑彡 bang chan x gender neutral!reader

๑彡 slice of life!au, stranger!au — little fluff(?)

๑彡 paragraph format — 0.9K words

masterlist

[gif’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]

You were having the time of your life.

It was not your first time visiting Disney California Adventure nor Disneyland, but the excitement you felt was still as intense as the first time. Perhaps it was because there were huge gaps between your visits. Or because there was really just something in the Disney air that never failed to make you giddy.

Whatever the case was, you always looked forward to your Disney trips. And this was no different.

Since your visits were far apart, there was always something new in the parks whenever you visit again. Regardless of your attachment to the media that inspired the new attractions, you were always excited to explore the new additions.

For this visit in particular, you were extra hyped. Not only was there a new land of attractions, the area in question was also inspired by a media that you were very familiar with.

Avengers Campus.

You wouldn’t call yourself a Marvel fan — nor a Marvel Cinematic Universe fanatic. If anything, you were just someone who watched enough of their releases to develop attachments to their characters.

Most people head straight to Radiator Springs Racers once the rope dropped. But you? You were dead-set on spending your early hours exploring Avengers Campus. So you did.

Two rides in, your feet brought you back in front of the Avengers Headquarters.

And there, right in front of the Avengers’ logo on the wall, was Iron Man — taking photos with visitors.

Frankly, you had no plans on paying Disney photographers to take your photos. For one, you didn’t research how much their services were. Second, you figured you would succumb to capitalism in other ways (read: churros and Dole whip), so it’d be best if you’d only spend your money there.

Yet, still, you found yourself lining up to take photos with Iron Man.

The line wasn’t terribly long, but you knew it’d be a thirty-minute wait at least. After all, it wasn’t just a photo-op — it was also a quick meet-and-greet. Thankfully, you were in no rush, so you didn’t mind the wait.

You let your mind wander to pass time. You observed different people interact with Iron Man as their turn came and passed. You scrolled through your phone, switching applications mindlessly.

Amidst your thoughts about which continuity Disneyland’s Iron Man existed in, you caught the cast member beside you talking to another guest. "—Mr. Stark has a meeting to attend to soon, but he’d be back after."

It didn’t take you that long to piece what that in-character response must’ve meant, especially if the other guest walked away upon hearing them.

"Excuse me," you turned the cast member’s attention toward you, "can you hold my place for a second?" As an afterthought, you quickly added: "I’ll be back. I promise."

You jogged after the other guest before you could change your mind.

Really, there was absolutely no need for you to do this. As you heard the cast member say, there would be other opportunities to meet Iron Man throughout the day.

Yet, somehow, you felt strongly compelled to. Like you were supposed to.

"Excuse me," you called your fellow guest’s attention. You flashed him a small smile, "Hi."

"Hello," he greeted back after halting to hear you out. He reciprocated your gesture with one that almost blinded you, "Can I help you?"

"Are you still interested in taking a picture with Iron Man?"

"I am," he affirmed.

"Do you wanna take it with me?" You blurted out your objective for coming to him, before he could say anything else. "I mean," you backtracked as soon as you processed how strange you must’ve sounded, "I saw some people take group photos and then solo ones; so you’re up for it, we can split the cost or something."

Frankly, you didn’t exactly thought this whole thing through. You were operating on impulse. You were going with the flow — even if you weren’t exactly sure where it was leading you to.

"That’s actually not a bad idea." You didn’t even know where that proposition came from. It just spilled out your mouth without going through your brain first. Nevertheless, it seemed to have done its job. "I’d actually take you up on that, if you don’t mind."

You smiled wider, "Great!" You turned back and started leading him to where you came. "I’m [first name], by the way."

"Nice to meet you, [first name]. I’m Chan."

You and Chan waited out the rest of the line chatting. You conversed about the most trivial things — from the other attractions you were planning on visiting to your theories on how Disneyland’s Iron Man’s voice actually sounded similar to Robert Downey, Jr.’s. You even talked about how you spent the earlier part of the morning. And what you thought of what Marvel did to their cinematic characters.

By the end, when everything had been said and done, you and Chan parted ways with a way to keep in touch and a picture of each other saved in your respective camera rolls.

Albeit you were initially reluctant to succumb to another bait of capitalism, you didn’t mind the price you paid for the set of photos that included a cute candid of you and Chan with Iron Man.

(Years later, when your fates have entwined more permanently, you saw that same picture framed in Chan’s apartment. “It’s my favorite,” he told you after claiming your waist in a back hug.)

[sephirthoughts]

Father: Verb

Epilogue (3 of 4)

The long-foretold Lucrecia chapter.

Rating: general

It was a completely insignificant day in late spring, one year, and the sun rode high above the rocky hills and weather-worn karsts of the Nibel region. The wind, up here, was colloquially called ‘the breath of the world’, and one could almost feel the planet’s living vitality in its brisk and spirited gusts, as they strove to toss you right off the mountain. This was perfectly usual, of course, and also much of the reason no one ventured out into this goddess-forsaken waste.

What was different about this day, was that a pair of booted footsteps had joined the wind, in whispering amongst the knee-high sedge grasses, knocking wisps of pollen into the air, and collecting bits of fluff on tall, black shin guards. These were not the meandering steps of a leisure hiker, nor the hurried footfalls of one who’d got lost from the trail, and was in haste to find it again. These steps were deliberate, following some prearranged path, though there was none to be seen, amid the tumbled rocks and windswept brush.

At length, the boots made their way to their apparent destination. It was a secluded mountain lake, crystal blue and nearly perfectly round—no doubt formed in the caldera of some long dormant volcano—that lay at the center of a green and tranquil oasis, hidden away in the inhospitable highlands, like a fairyland in a children’s tale.

At the northwestern end of the small lake, the thunder of the tributary falls rumbled down, from the high ridge. The waterfall was more energetic than usual, today, due to heavy snowpack in the mountains above, this past winter, so misty spray billowed and white foam roiled riotously, in the deep-blue basin below.

When the black boots came to the falls, they continued, undaunted, sure-footed as a mountain goat on the slippery rocks, as the cold spray beaded on well-polished leather, and rolled down in heavy drops, like dew.

At a wave of the hand from the owner of those boots, the waterfall, despite being swollen with snowmelt and rather proud of itself at the moment, stood meekly aside, to let the visitor pass through. There were some, after all, for whom even nature itself had no power to bar the way.

Perfectly concealed behind this glimmering curtain of living glass, was a narrow crevice, hardly wider than a single person. The boots proceeded, turning sidewise, to squeeze through, and vanish into the dark.

Deep inside the mountain ridge, this narrow crevice widened into a traversable path. Deeper still, the path opened up into a glittering cave, of tremendous size, in which the terrific heat and pressure of ancient volcanic activity had caused mass-crystallization of liquefied minerals. This had created the hundreds of strange stalactite and stalagmite columns, which stood like an eerie forest of stone, spanning from the floor to the ceiling of the cave, as far as the eye could see.

Eventually, the densely packed columns gave way to an open area, like a natural amphitheater, where the cave ceiling domed up and the floor smoothed out. At the center of this area, lay a circular pool, of faintly glowing water, which surrounded a much different mineral formation.

It was a pillar, formed of gigantic spars of some naturally luminous crystal, clear and slightly turquoise tinted, like enchanted ice. This pillar and the smaller crystal structures that had grown out from it, acted as the light source in the cave, illuminating the surrounding environment with a dreamy, otherworldly glow.

The light was not the most remarkable feature of this crystal pillar, however. Most remarkable was that, within the main column of transparent crystal, could be seen the figure of a young woman. She was dressed in white, and her lovely and delicate-featured face wore an expression of peaceful repose. Her eyes were closed, and her head slightly bowed, with her hands clasped on her chest, in a posture of prayer.

It was unclear, whether this was the true body of a woman, suspended in the luminous, mako-saturated crystal, or merely a visual remnant, graven into it by the life force of the planet, but the distinction was immaterial, to the one who observed her, now. This was her final resting place. That was all that mattered.

The black boots slowed their pace, crunching over the crystal gravel at a heavy, almost funerary cadence, until at long last, they arrived before the limpid pool, and the woman in her crystalline reliquary. There they stood, for a long time. And for a long time, there was no sound, but the little plashes of dripping water, afar off, in the dark recesses of the cavern.

Finally, a voice spoke softly, into the echoing silence. “So, we meet at last…mother.”

The crystal pillar’s fairie-light shone pale and glimmering on a cascade of silver hair, and illuminated the face of a young man, very like to that of the woman in the crystal. His was a sharper, harder beauty than hers, especially about the brow and catlike blue-green eyes, but his mouth and chin particularly, belonged entirely to her. Seeing their faces together, there could be no mistaking their close relation.

“In the likely case that you don’t recognize me, I am your son, Sephiroth,” the silver-haired man continued. He caught himself reflexively placing a hand over his heart and tucked it behind his back, instead. “I’ve come to…to pay my respects, I suppose. I hope you will forgive me for not coming sooner. My father has gently urged me to visit you for many years, but somehow, I could never bring myself to do it.”

The woman in the crystal remained serene and silent.

“He doesn’t know I’m here today. In fact, I’ve told no one what I intended to do. I couldn’t bear to feel the pressure of their thoughts, on the subject. This…is between you and me.”

Heedless of the glowing, ankle-deep water, he strode directly across the circular pool and stepped onto the disc of stone that formed the base of the crystal pillar. The woman’s figure was suspended a couple of feet above the base, but she was rather petite, and thus he, being nearly seven feet tall, stood almost at eye-level with her.

“You look different, from your photograph,” he remarked, without emotion. “A bit older. Thinner. Of course, when you came here, you were burdened by cares that did not yet weigh upon you, when that picture was taken.”

He reached out his gloved hand, as if to touch the crystal, where her face was, then withdrew it again, straightening up proudly.

“But I’ve not come here to talk about you. I have come to tell you who I am. I am the son of Vincent Valentine. I am now the most powerful single entity on this planet, aside from my father. In my early life, I was raised by various scientists and handlers, in Shinra Manor, to be the first SOLDIER—the flagship of Shinra’s genetically enhanced military. A professional war criminal. But…that never came to be. In the end, I never fought a single battle on Shinra’s behalf.

“When I was fourteen years old, I burned the manor to the ground and escaped with my father. We spent the following years working against Shinra from the shadows; subverting their people, embedding our own in their system, growing inside them like a virus. And when the time came to strike, it was far too late for them to fight us. We neutralized the host and took over, with…minimal bloodshed.

“What you knew as the Shinra Electric Power Company, is now called the World Regenesis Organization. It is still the greatest socioeconomic and political force, in the world, but under the guidance of our people, it is steadily being restructured; from a parasitic behemoth, draining the planet of its life force, to a benevolent, non-profit enterprise, actively fostering the harmonious existence of humans with the natural world.

“It has been…slow going, to be perfectly honest. Most of our work, so far, has been dedicated to undoing the decades of damage done by Shinra, in its previous incarnation. It will take centuries for those wounds to fully heal. But now, at least, there is hope. They even tell me that flowers are returning to Midgar. That is how things currently stand, with me. Of course, we must address the elephant in the room, sooner or later, so let us have it out, and be done with it, shall we?”

He stopped and took a long breath, letting it out slowly, and somewhat relaxing his heretofore stiff, formal posture.  

“First things first, it is only right to tell you that my father forgave you, for everything. He never really blamed you, despite my attempts to convince him he should. And I did attempt to convince him he should. Because…I blamed you. That is the whole truth.

“I won’t paint a falsely pretty picture of the catastrophe you left in your wake, to spare your feelings. Your troubles are over. The lives that you left behind—mine and my father’s—have continued on. Sometimes in misery and desolation, sometimes in sorrow and regret, but mostly…in hope. And in joy. You see, the terrible fate you foresaw—the destruction of the planet in a hell of fire, and me as a the angel of death—will never come to pass. But, perhaps I should begin at the beginning.

“Your apocalyptic visions did come true, once. In another future. But in that future, that version of myself found a way to free himself from fate. When his body died, he broke the chains of destiny, and bent the will of the lifestream to his purpose. Freed from his physical form, he traveled backward, through the timeline, gathering each version of us, from each crucial turning point, and brought them to me, to show me the way.

“With their help, I freed my father from Shinra’s slavery, and killed that old monster who tortured us. Yes, I killed Hojo, with my own hands. He has been dead for…seventeen years, now. Hardly time to even begin to undo all the evil he caused. May his houseless spirit wander the netherworld, with neither rest nor comfort, till all his wrongs have been erased from the memory of time.

“But where was I? Ah, yes. After I rid the world of Hojo, and Chaos rid the world of Jenova’s corruption, we began to create our vision, for the future. Since then, I have accomplished everything my other selves died to make possible. I have made all the things right, that went so wrong, in their futures. I have killed those who should have been killed and saved all those who should have been saved—”

He broke off and lowered his head, with an expression of pain.

“I should say…I have saved all but one. My father. I can’t save him. There is nothing I can do, to release him from the fate that you, willing or no, have damned him to. Because of the method you used to preserve his life, he has become one with Chaos. He no longer has a human soul, and can no longer merge with the lifestream.”

He looked up at her again, with his teeth bared and fire in his eyes.

“Do you understand what that means? It means he can never die. People say that I am immortal, but they have no idea what true immortality is. I am only ageless. I can live as long as I wish to, and I can also die. My father will never have that choice. He is truly immortal.

“That is the full horror of the curse you have laid upon him. When the sun burns out and this planet is nothing but a lifeless rock, hurtling aimlessly through the void, he will still exist, in that indestructible demonic form. And there is nothing…nothing I can do, to spare him the torment of aeons, that lies in his future.”

He paused and turned away, cupping his forehead in his hand, and clearing his throat, to regain control of his wavering voice. When he turned back, he appeared perfectly tranquil, again, but for the hint of pink that rimmed his eyes.

“For so many years, whenever I confronted the infinite tragedy that will be my father’s existence, I blamed you. I hated you. I cursed you bitterly. But…that was a child’s reaction, to a blurred and oversimplified understanding of reality. Despite all the knowledge I gained from my future selves, it seems that only experience, earned in the true passing of years, brings wisdom. And with wisdom comes reflection. And regret.”

Reaching into his long, black coat, he withdrew an old, dog-eared, faded and weather-stained book. Some of the yellowed pages had come loose and had been carefully tucked back in, held in place with paper clips.

“I’m sure you recognize this book. This is your journal. Not your research notes. This is the private diary, that you kept hidden from everyone. After your disappearance, it was mailed anonymously to Valentine Manor, of all things, where it lay in the library for many years, disregarded. It was recently discovered by an archivist, and brought to me, after its authentication. I beg your pardon for reading it, without your permission, but you understand.”

Smiling wistfully, he touched the battered leather cover of the book with his fingertips, tracing its surface gently, as if it were the face of a loved one. Then his brow furrowed and he swallowed hard, as if against some tautness in his throat.

“It has been…painful, to read this tale, knowing the end already. To witness, in real time, as it were, the hope and optimism of a young woman, her heartbreak and disillusionment, and her eventual decline into despair.

“But, through the words written here, I have come to know her. I have come to know Lucrecia. A passionate scholar and brilliant scientist, and sometimes, a rather silly and idealistic young woman. I have come to know her hopes and dreams. Her triumphs and disappointments. The fears and doubts she never dared speak aloud.

“I have come to know my mother. Not the lofty ideal I had constructed in my mind, as a child. Not the scapegoat for all my misery, that I made you into, as an adolescent. But the living, flesh and blood woman that you were. The unvarnished truth of you, in all its human ugliness and beauty.

“I know now that you truly did love my grandfather, though you never admitted it, in so many words. The way you wrote of him, in such starry-eyed hyperbole, was both comically trite and infinitely endearing. I know also that you cared deeply for my father. I know the way your guilt gnawed at you, with every word you spoke to one another. The way Grimoire seemed to be looking at you, from his son’s eyes.

“I have come to know also of your love for…for me. You must understand that I had always thought of my conception as the calculated act of a scientific mind, that did not care for the eventual human cost, when there were groundbreaking experimental results to be had. I know, now, how I—how I wronged you, in thinking of you that way.”

He broke off yet again, taking a shaky breath, to steady himself.

“Through your journal, I was by your side, when you made that impulsive decision to create a child, with my father’s genetic material. I felt your horror and grief, at his death, counterpoised with your anxious excitement, as the new life grew in your body. I felt your mind turn, from justification, to hesitation, to abhorrence of the things that you had done to me. I experienced your abject agony, when you awoke from the cesarean operation to find your infant gone, and yourself trapped and powerless to go to him. I heard you weep and beg and plead, over and over, to be allowed to see your son, and I watched those pleas fall on deaf ears. I know now that you never abandoned me and that you loved me, desperately. That you never even held me in your arms, and still you longed for me with every fiber of your being, just as I longed for you.”

A tear escaped and rolled down his cheek, which he quickly brushed away.

“You know, Hojo once told me I never had a name, and that Sephiroth was only a project designation. But I learned from your journal that you had chosen that name, for your future child, long before the project existed. Long before you even met the old serpent.”

He lowered his eyes and touched the cover of the book again, smiling softly, to himself.  

“Rather eccentric, and perhaps a bit pretentious, to name your unborn child a collective noun, for the channels of the divine creative force, in the tree of life. But you were young and full of grand ideas. You can be forgiven for such a flight of fancy. And, for what it’s worth, I’ve always liked my name. It sounds enigmatic and imposing, and it is unique in the world. Or—it was, anyway. So many babies are christened Sephiroth every year, now, that the census bureau has become sick to death of it, and lay the blame squarely at my feet.

“But I’ve strayed from my topic. I understand, now, that you were not to blame for the evil that befell us all. Yes, you made choices that led to terrible suffering, but without that malevolent man to perpetrate his atrocities, no choice of yours could have caused things to happen as they did. You made mistakes, mother, but you always intended to do good. He always intended to do evil. That is the great difference between you and him.

“You were deceived and used, then isolated and tormented, by that old viper, just as we were. He preyed upon your ambition, used your hopes and dreams to blind you, and slowly closed the walls around you. Then, he made certain you would blame your own foolishness and weakness, for the results. Finally, when you could bear the guilt and misery no longer, he allowed you to run away, to die alone in the wilderness. He never even sent anyone to search for you.

“I told you that with wisdom comes reflection and regret, and I have tasted this cup to its dregs. My regret has weighed heavily upon me, these past several years. I regret the injustice I’ve done you, by blaming and hating you, for the horror of my life. I regret wasting so many years in bitterness and anger, directed at you, because I couldn’t contend with the real source of all my pain: that for all my power—all my strength of will—there are still those things over which I have no control.

“Mother, I…I’m sorry.” His voice, smooth and steady till now, wavered and broke. For the first time in his life, perhaps, he made no move to conceal or wipe away the tears, that overflowed and spilled freely down his face. “I’m sorry for taking so long to grow up. I’m sorry for not even trying to understand you. I’m sorry for wanting your love so desperately, that a boy’s unrequited yearning metastasized into a man’s bitter resentment.

“The truth is, I only ever hated you for not being there. For not loving me enough to live. I know that is illogical and selfish, but I was a child. All I knew was my own pain. My own need for a mother. I grew so fixated on it, that I became unstable and destructive. That was when the old monster gave me the locket with your photo, and told me your name was Jenova.

“That little thing soothed me more than any of the tranquilizing drugs they tried on me. When I was still very small, I used to open my locket and whisper to your picture, at night, telling you of the things I’d accomplished, so that you’d be proud of me. I used to imagine that the smile in that photograph was meant for me.

“As I grew older, and more hardened by the ugly brutality of my life, I taught myself that such behavior was childish and shameful. I stopped talking to you. I stopped smiling back, when I looked at your picture. But the pain of your absence didn’t heal. It deepened and festered, in the darkness of my loneliness and grief, while the old monster tormented me, in the name of making me strong.

“Then one day…Vincent came. He was brought to me, to be a handler and bodyguard. I’m sorry to state it so bluntly, but he fully usurped your place in my heart, within hours of our meeting. It was not so terribly fickle, as it sounds, though. I knew he was my father, the moment I laid eyes on him.

“Not consciously, of course. I didn’t dare to admit that glimmer of heart-piercing hope into my world of darkness. And yet I knew it. My blood and my bones knew it—that he belonged to me, and I to him. Can I be blamed for transferring all of my childish longing and love, from the mother who was nothing but a picture in a locket, to the father who was solid and tangible, and right in front of me?

“Vincent dawned upon my world like a new sun, and transformed everything I knew, from drab monochrome to brilliant color. He taught me about spaghetti and birthdays, and watched movies with me. He was the first person who hugged me, and he was…he was the first person who ever said they loved me.

“To say that I returned his love would be a gross understatement. I was obsessed with him. Fixated on him. I wanted to bind him to me forever, and never let him escape. I would have burned the world for him, if I thought he wanted it. But, as it turned out, he was a good man. So I became good, too.

“As good as I can be, at least. I am still a man who loves to such excess, that I would unhesitatingly destroy the lives and happiness of anyone who dared stand between me and my loved ones.” He gave a rueful smile. “Our family really is given to romantic melodrama, are we not?

“But despite the grasping, jealous, needy way I loved him, my father never pushed me away. Never told me I was wrong. Never rejected me. Since the day we destroyed the monsters who authored all of our grief, and broke free of the yoke of Shinra, we have never been separated. I don’t mean physically, of course. We are grown men, we can’t be attached at the hip, all the time. But, no matter how far apart we are, we are always together.  

“You see, he gave me his heart. That is not a figure of speech, it’s here in my chest, beside my own.”

This time, he did lay a hand on his heart, and from his chest, a pale light shone, between his fingers. “You must remember this. It is the heart you gave him, mother. That he then gave to me, your son. Poetic, no? What did I say about our family and romantic melodrama?

“Speaking of family, what would my grandfather have thought, if he’d known about me? Did he ever imagine that you loved him enough to give birth to his son’s son, just to preserve a piece of him in the world? I wonder.”

He sighed and the light receded back into his chest.

“I wish I’d had a chance to meet him. He must have been a captivating man, to so deeply ensnare a heart like yours, whose first love was always science. For all of the heartache it caused, I hope he at least reciprocated your feelings, to some degree. All the evidence suggests that he did. As did his son. Two generations of Valentine men have died for you, and because of you, one will never die. A heavy burden for even a woman’s soul to bear.”

He smiled wryly at the beautiful face in the crystal, then looked away, clearing his throat.

“That’s…a joke you have no way of understanding. There is a certain person of my acquaintance—a Cetra seer, who reads auras and such things. She told me I had a woman’s soul. I should take it as a compliment, she said, because women’s souls are by far the stronger.

“There are many reasons my soul should seem abnormal, to a seer, but I would like to think that I carry a piece of your soul with me, mother. And that it was part of you, she saw in me. Because the more I am like you, the less I am like that thing. That dead abomination, behind the glass, in the mako tank. Its face haunts me, even to this day, and my body, though purified of its corruption, still bears its marks.”

He placed his gloved hands on his own cheeks, then ran them back through his silver hair, his eyes unfocused, darting back and forth. After a moment, though, he shook himself, and the spell seemed to pass.

“That is the secret I can never tell, mother,” he resumed, looking up at her. “I was born to be a monster. It is only by constant and conscious effort of will, that I have not become one. Not my will, alone, though. I would have given in, long ago. It is the love of my father, and those close to me, that has kept me on the right path. That has stopped me straying into darkness.

“So many suffered and died needlessly, in the other future, who now live happy and free from that terrible fate. They will never know the monster I could have become. But I will never not know. No matter how many I save, how much I change, how much of myself I give to this world, I can never erase the knowledge, that if my steps had faltered but a little, along the path, I would have destroyed the planet, and killed them all.

“I defied destiny, mother. I wiped the slate clean and created a new future, a new fate, and yet…I am still alone. A demon walking among the innocent. A wolf among the sheep. I can wear their hide and speak their tongues, but I can never be one of them.

“That was the real price I paid, to rewrite fate. It wasn’t the death of my physical body, at each inflection point. It was the sacrifice of my innocence, to return innocence to this world. I have paid dearly, for the lives and freedom of all its children. I have paid with my soul.

“My hands are clean, and yet my shoulders bear the weight of ten-thousand sins. How can a soul so blameless in deed, be so blackened in essence? How can I atone for sins I will never commit? How can I heal scars that have never felt a wound? Can I be forgiven, for what I have not done?”

He laid his hands on the luminous pillar and leaned his forehead upon it.

“If you knew me, as I am now, would you love me, nonetheless? Would you ever be proud to call me your son?”

Though he knew it was only childish wishfulness, he could almost swear he felt a faint warmth and pressure, on his skin, as if gentle arms reached out to embrace him, with infinite tenderness and unfathomable love. With that, the gates were flung wide, and the depths of his heart poured forth, a wordless hymn of sorrow and joy, as vast as the heavens and as deep as the abyss.

Borne down by the weight of it, he sunk to his knees, clinging to the crystal pillar, as shuddering sobs racked his invincible body, and tears poured down like snowmelt in spring, splashing onto the crystal-strewn floor at his mother's feet. Even when he had wept himself hoarse, till he had no tears left, he still clung to the pillar, gasping out wet, stuttering breaths, that fogged its glassy surface.

At long last, he grew calm again, and rose to his feet, wiping his face with his gloved hand. Then, peeling off the gloves, he laid his palms on the pillar and let his forehead rest against it, inches from his mother’s lips, whose kiss he would never feel. So close, and yet separated by an impassable divide.

“I’m getting married, mother,” he said hoarsely, after a while. “To my other half, my soul mate, my fated one…I don’t even know what to call him, for I have loved him in so many lifetimes. But in this life, I can finally say I have earned his love.

“I wish that you could know him. That you could see how good he is to me, and how good he is for me. How shall I tell you about him, in a credible way, when to me, he is perfection in human form? He has golden hair and bright blue eyes, like the sky and sea, and lovely little freckles, though he likes to deny they exist. He is small, for a man, but he isn’t the least bit soft or submissive, and his tongue is as sharp as his sword.

“I love him madly, even more when he scolds me. I would do anything for him. I have done everything for him. For my beloved, I have reshaped the fate of this world, with my own hands. For him, I have built this gentle kingdom, ringed in spears, so that he may live in peace, and without fear for the future.

“Back when we were children, walking on the beach together, collecting shells and sea glass, and talking about our hopes and dreams, I did tell him I intended to marry him, one day. But I never attempted to hold him, in my hand. I never attempted to bind him to me, lest I break his wings and suffocate him, with my love.

“Though it cost me deep anxiety and tremendous pain, I let my little bird fly as free as he wished. But he always came back to me, on his own. He loves me, mother. He knows the whole truth of me—everything, even the monstrous things my other selves did in their futures—and still, he loves me. Of all the people in this world, he chose me, to spend his life with.

“I had planned to wait until he turned twenty-one, to formally propose marriage, but when it came to it, he proposed to me, before I got the chance. Of course, he took Knight Fair’s suggestion and did it at a shareholders meeting, in the presence of all our friends and associates. And the Turks, who were there pretending to provide extra security, but really came to see the show.

“It was profoundly embarrassing. And…it was the most joyous moment of my life. To know once and for all, that I was chosen. That I was sought after and desired. That he loved me, as I loved him, and that he wanted to declare it before the world.

“For I always doubt, mother. No matter how I am reassured, I always doubt that I am truly loved or wanted. I feel…alien. As if those around me know I don’t belong, and are only awaiting the slightest pretext to cast me out from among them.

“My psychiatrist—my current psychiatrist, that is, my previous few have suddenly relocated or given up the profession—calls it social anxiety, related to an autism spectrum disorder. I suppose she knows her business, but it seems unfair that my superior brain can suffer from human dysfunction, and yet due to that very superiority, they have yet to find a medication that has any effect on me.

“Before I stray off topic and forget, I should tell you that my father is engaged to be married, as well. To someone my age, no less, the old villain. But everyone thinks they’re a perfect match, and no one is scandalized by it in the least, because despite his advanced age, my father looks as if he’s the younger of the pair. So it goes. I, too, will look younger than my beloved, one day. It will be in the far, far future, since he has been enhanced, but he will grow old. The day will come when he will leave me and return to the lifestream.

“As for my father…even I can’t say what his future holds. I only know I must find a way to save him. I can’t bear to think of him, bereft of everyone and everything he ever knew and loved, facing eternity alone. But even if I can’t alter his fate, I can at least not allow him to face it alone. He does not know, but I have already decided that I will not die, until he does.

“Somehow, I will save him, from the terrible curse of immortality, and only when he leaves this existence, will I consent to leave it, with him. That is my vow, before heaven and earth. My father and I will cross into the afterlife together, or not at all.” He lowered his head and gave a self-deprecating laugh. “I am sorry to disappoint you, mother, but it seems I will not be the one to break the family curse of romantic melodrama. But, with a name like Sephiroth, can you really be surprised?”

In the end, he loitered in that place for many hours, pouring out the minutiae of his life to his silent mother, in the way very young children will do, only all at once and in a torrential flood, since there were three decades of such anecdotes to get through. When he did depart, at long last, he smiled and pressed a kiss to the cold surface of the crystal pillar, where her forehead was.

“I love you, mother. You don’t have to worry about me, anymore. I will be alright. Rest now, and be at peace.”

As he left the cavern, Sephiroth paused and took a last, lingering look at his mother’s beautiful face, before he turned away, again, and the echo of his footsteps faded away, into the darkness.

Had he remained, a moment longer, he may have seen what appeared to be a single tear, roll down the pale cheek, within the luminous crystal. Perhaps a remnant of the young woman’s spirit still clung to her form, and was moved by her son’s love, to this final expression of emotion. Or perhaps it was only a trick of the light.

Several days later, WRO seismologists reported a massive seismic event, in the Nibel region, the likes of which hadn’t been seen in geological ages. When it was investigated, it was found that the quake had been caused by the sudden, catastrophic collapse of half a mountain range, which had been sitting atop a network of huge, volcanic caves, making the entire structure unsupportable. They considered it miraculous that the range had stood as long as it had.

The good news, however, was that there were no casualties, since those highlands were uninhabitable, and no loss of property. That is to say, nearly no loss of property. The tremors were felt all the way in Nibelheim, where multiple cats were startled out of naps, and half a dozen vases were shaken off shelves, to meet their untimely demise on Nibelheim’s famously tough wood floors.

As for a small, volcanic lake, high in the rocky hills, which was swallowed in the collapse; only a few geologists and intrepid mountaineers ever knew it existed, so no one lamented its loss.

THE AUTHOR HAS SOMETHING TO SAY the fun one is next! tons of cameos, ahoy!! hooray tying up loose ends!!!

[nostalgiclittlespace]

I'm sort of new when it comes to requesting fics, so I hope this is okay! I know Kipper isn't on the list of fandoms you write for, but I got inspired when you posted those headcanons about Kipper being a caregiver! 🩵

Caregiver: Kipper

Regressor: Reader (around five years old)

When Reader regressed around Kipper for the first time, they try to hide it from him because they are embarrassed: however, little does Reader know that Kipper already knows, and tries to make them feel better about regressing.

First of all, super cute prompt! this is the first Kipper fic I’ve written, which is lowkey surprising since I love the show so much (I’ve even watching it since I was a toddler!) secondly, don’t worry, your request format was perfect! 💕💗❤️

I left whether reader is human or anthropomorphic unspecified Mostly so it can be read to individual preferences. (and there’s this one episode where there’s just a human baby for some reason, so evidently Kipper’s world has both). So imagine yourself any way you want!

PS: If you want some extra Kipper CG vibes, some great episodes that showcase his caring side are Looking After Arnold, Hide & Seek, and The Visitor (all available on YouTube) They are super cute!

Anyway, enough rambling from me; here you go, friend!

SFW AGE REGRESSION FIC. DNI IF NSFW, KINK, PROSHIP, OR SIMILAR. DO NOT REPOST TO OTHER SITES

Title: The Painting

Pairing: CG!Kipper & Little!Reader

Wordcount: 1465

Description: You go to Kipper’s house to work on a painting together. You are a little nervous about showing your regression, but Kipper doesn’t seem to mind at all.

TW: Nothing major, but there is a little bit of embarrassment about regressing, and brief implications of past bad experiences because of it.

The Painting

Today you were visiting Kipper at his house.  Being your best friend, you visited him quite often, but today was extra special!  You were going to paint together!

Yesterday, Kipper told you about an enormous canvas he had gotten from the store, and he invited you to help him paint it.  You two passed ideas back and forth for ages, wondering what monumental picture would be put on such an exquisite frame.  Eventually you settled on a portrait of the neighborhood, with all your friends about it.  The playground, river, woods, Duck Pond, and Big Hill would be depicted across every inch.  It would be brilliant!

You skipped towards Kipper’s house, your paints, brushes, and some snacks to share tucked under your arm.  The walk was pleasant, perfectly warm with a light breeze bristling through the trees.  You would have stayed out all day if you weren’t so excited for your art project!

So, now arriving at his house, you knocked on Kipper’s front door.  

“Coming!” you heard him call, and moments later he threw open the door.

“Hi, Kip!” you greeted enthusiastically.

“Hello, (Y/N)!  The painting is all ready!” Kipper grinned, letting you inside.

The canvas was indeed massive–so much so that it had to be laid across the living room floor and not the kitchen table.  The palettes and Kipper’s own paints were also scattered around it.  He hadn’t started without you; so the blank white setting teased your creativity.  Imagine all the people, things, and colors you could elaborate it with! 

“Wow!  It’s even bigger than I imagined!  We’ll have room to paint the whole neighborhood!” you exclaimed gleefully at the sight of it.

“That’s what I was thinking.  Come on, then.  Let’s get started.”

You took to one side of the canvas, and Kipper took to the other.  You laid side by side on the floor, propped up by your elbows.  Bottles of paint were passed between you, hefty amounts added to your palettes, and with the brush as your applicator, to the frame.

It didn’t take long for both of you to be covered head to toe in  acrylics–quite literally.  Somehow you had managed to get splotches of vibrant colors across your nose and arms where you were sprawled across the floor.  But the mess was worth it; even if you had only recently started, every cloud and tree added felt like a true masterpiece.  

The urge to finger paint was there, to discard your paintbrush in favor of the classic method you used when you were younger.  But you dismissed the thought, no matter how many times it recurred.  This was an important painting, both to you and to Kipper.  You shouldn’t risk ruining it by regressing to more abstract methods and a younger headspace.   

“It looks brilliant!” Kipper declared as you added green ovals for lily pads in the Pond and he added white flowers around Big Hill.  

“Yeah!  I can’t wait to show our friends,” you agreed.  “Where will we put it when it’s finished?” 

“Hmm.  I don’t know.  Everyone should be able to see it.  Maybe we could take turns having it in each other’s houses,” Kipper suggested as he rinsed off his brush in the water and selected another hue.

“It’s awfully big to carry back and forth…maybe we could borrow Jake’s wagon to transport it around.”

“Yeah!  Speaking of our friends, where should we put them in the painting?  Arnold loves the Pond, maybe we can paint him feeding the ducks there,” he continued.

“And Pig can be with him, eating the bread!” you giggled, thinking of your two neighbors and imagining what a fun scene to draw it would be. 

The two of you continued to brainstorm, deciding on some clever locations.  Jake would be at the river bed.  Tiger would be in his front yard.

“Where would you like to be, (Y/N)?” Kipper inquired as he got the gray paint for Tiger’s likeness.  

“The park!” you exclaimed excitedly.  “It’s my favorite place.  I like to play there.”

Memories of endless adventures at the playground filled your mind–from the swings to the see-saw, to the slides.  On lucky days, you would bump into your friends there, and they would join you for a little while.  Then, even more games would ensue–tag, hide and seek, I Spy, Simon-Says...I’m really lucky to have so many friends to play with me! you thought, kicking your legs a little at the thought.  The park really was your favorite place in the world.

Just how many times had Kipper spotted you swinging by yourself and come to give you a push?  Or chased you around for a game of tag?  Or brought extra bread so you two could feed the ducks together?

Subconsciously, your thumb found its way to your mouth–one miraculously not dirtied by paint.  Thoughtlessly, you chewed on the nail and bobbed your head up and down, lost in carefree memories.

Meanwhile you painted Pig and Arnold at the pond, the beautiful, blushing pink shade vibrant against the green and blue hues surrounding it.  You even remembered to include the bread and a couple ducks!

“Wow!  That looks brilliant!” Kipper praised, drawing you from your trace.

Abruptly, you pulled your finger from your mouth and stopped kicking your feet.  Your cheeks heated up as you realized your friend could have been watching your childish mannerisms, given the way he smiled at you and carefully observed your progress.

Admittedly, you tried not to share that side with very many people.  Kipper knew you had some childish interests, and like most of your friends, still enjoyed a good game of pretend.  But you hadn’t ever given him a name for it, not actually admittedly that regression was a legitimate factor of your life.

Kipper was kind and fun, and he probably wouldn’t judge you for it…but the nagging fear and past negative experiences always tugged at your better judgement whenever you considered discussing it with anybody.  It was endlessly easier just to keep your headspace toned down while around others than to risk misunderstandings by making a big deal of it.  Right?

“Thanks,” you finally replied after a second to process his compliment.  “Who should I paint next?”

“I have an idea!  You can paint me, and I’ll paint you.  We can both be at the park together,” Kipper suggested.

“Okay!” you smiled.  You shook off your nerves and your headspace, then continued painting.

Well, you tried to at least.  As you colored with orange, white, and brown for your best friend’s caricature, he told you a very funny story about his toys, Slipper and Sock Thing.  

Soon enough you were bobbing your head again, giggling at Kipper’s imitations of his toys and the silly expressions he made along the way.  Every so often, the nerves would try to come back, but they were quickly banished by the way Kipper’s grin widened when you laughed.  He didn’t seem to mind after all!

The art project was soon finished, and you had to clean up the mess you made.  There were drips of color everywhere, including all over your hands, face, and floor.  Good thing you used washable paint!  And that you didn’t have to clean up by yourself–Kipper promised you a slice of chocolate cake if you washed yourself and the brushes clean of paint.  But that wasn’t a hard job, especially because Kip filled the sink with bubbles!

“That was fun,” you declared as you dried your hands a few minutes later.

“Yeah!  We should paint something else again soon.  But what?  We’ve already done the entire town,” Kipper hummed in agreement.

“Hmmm.  Maybe the beach.  Or the sky.  We could add rockets and balloons.”

“Yes!  That’s a great idea!” Kipper exclaimed.  He patted your head and you beamed under the cheer.  “We could put aliens and stars and the sun too!  What do you think, little one?”

You briefly froze as you processed the nickname.  Little one.  Kipper seemed to realize your hesitation.

“It’s okay if you sometimes feel and act small,” he informed you.  “You’re still my best friend, you know.  You’re still very clever and brilliant.”

“You mean it?” you chewed your finger nail nervously.

“Yes, silly, of course!”

Your smile returned.

You stayed for an hour longer, time you spent playing and having snacks while you waited for the painting you dry.  You wanted to stay long enough to inspect the product when it was fully dry, but you had to go home after that–it was getting late.  But Before you headed home you caught one last glance at the portrait and smiled; in the very center was the park, where you and Kipper’s likenesses held hands and played together–a lasting reminder that he would always be your dearest friend.