#i just have a lot of feelings about luther okay

[parkersbliss]

Flustered | F. Hargreeves

pairing: five hargreeves x fem!reader

wc: 903

warnings: sexual innuendo?

synopsis: ever since five retried, he’s been a lot more affectionate with you

requests: CLOSED

prompts: 043: “Your hands are really soft.” 054: “They have everyone.” “Not you.” “I’m the exception.” 067: “Nice hickey. Where’d you get it?”

—

“Hi, Luther, Klaus, Diego!” You greet happily. Five doesn’t bother and just pulls out his chair.

“What’s wrong?” Later said through a mouthful of Chinese takeout. “You look happy.”

You come up next to Five, and he pulls a chair out for you, making your cheeks heat up at the small action. “Why can’t he be happy?”

“Well, he’s Five. Always so… bitter.”

You shrug. “They hate everyone.”

“Not you.”

“I’m the exception.”

“I am plenty happy,” Five spoke, taking a seat. “Had a nap and shvitz, what does a man need?”

“Brother’s who don’t eat like barn animals?” Klaus suggests.

Both Diego and Luther look to Klaus, mouths full of noodles, proving his point.

You sit down, smiling at the three brothers. You're dressed in the same thing as Five, a soft bathrobe that says “Hotel Obsidian.”

Klaus grins at you, and you raise a brow. “Nice hickey. Where’d you get it?”

“What?” You practically scream, pulling back the collar of your bathrobe.

Diego snickers, “Seems like Five got a little more than a Shvitz.”

Luther nods. “Yeah, (Y/N) looks like she’s gonna die of embarrassment.”

Klaus claps. “Oh my god, I’m so happy for you two! How was it?”

Five blinked at his brother. “It’s none of your business.”

“Oh, why not? We’re bros!”

Five sighs, looking at you, then back to Klaus. “It was… nice.” You basically die in your seat at his choice of wording. He notices and chuckles, grabbing your hand in his. The three brothers whistle, and you shrink further into your seat.

“Your hands are really soft,” He whispers in your ear.

“Five!” You whine, feeling like you might explode at all the attention and affection. You and Five mostly kept your relationship on the down-low, seeming it was the most concerning issue the past month.

“So I’ve been thinking through our little timeline snafu, and I’m pleased to report that in my professional, expert opinion: we are totally in the clear.”

“Awesome!”

“Huh.”

“Great! So everything’s totally fine?” Luther asked.

“More or less. I mean,” Five hesitates, smiling. “There is one small thing. But it’s nothing we can’t manage.”

Five hands you one of the carry-out boxes, “Choi mein, your favorite.” And you smile softly, mumbling a thanks to him. He just smiles back, “Anytime.” And your stomach flips when he presses a soft kiss to your cheek. You actually think you might die this time.

“So, spit it out, boomer!” Diego mumbles through his noodles.

“Fine, Diego, it’s like this. Dad didn’t adopt us as babies, but those babies still existed here,” Five explained as you take a bite of your own meal.

Klaus frowns. “Awww.”

“We just grew up in different places with different people.”

“So?” Diego questions.

“So where are they now? Odds are we each have identical versions of ourselves walking around out there living completely different lives.”

Luter gasps excitedly. “Our doppelgängers!”

“That’s a made-up word,” Klaus dismisses.

“No, no, I learned all about this in Texas. Tell them about the paranoid psychosis, Five!”

“It’s paradox,” You correct.

“Oh, whoa, whoa, whoa, I thought you said this wasn’t a problem?”

“Okay, yes,” Five admits. “Technically, if you’re near your Doppel for too long, you’ll go insane. So if you ever see your other self—”

“Kill them.”

“Sleep with them.”

“… avoid them."

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Luther asked, giving both his brothers a skeptical look.

“Oh, come on, as if you wouldn’t climb Luther mountain,” Klaus teases. The look on Luther’s face tells you enough about what he’s thinking.

“Wait, how are we supposed to guarantee we don’t cross paths with ourselves?”

“Easy. I mean, we’re the Benetton of superheroes, born all around the world until dad brought us here, which he no longer did. Doppel’s probably aren’t even in the same time zone as us.”

“That’s true,” Luther mumbles.

Diego nods. “Yeah.”

“Would you pass the moo shu?” Five asked, reaching across the table, and Luther does so. Suddenly, Diego leaves in a rush, and you shrug it off.

“So how long have you two been…” Klaus trails off, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Gross, Klaus,” Five said, before adding. “We’ve been together for a while now.”

“Oh, wow,” Klaus sighs. “That’s so cute. I mean, (Y/N) is so sweet, and you’re so… you!”

You giggle at that, and Five rolls his eyes, “Thanks, Klaus.” Five grabs his takeout and a pair of chopsticks before taking your hand and helping you off your seat.

“You didn’t have to do that, Five,” You mumble, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“I know, darling, but I wanted to,” He replies, and you swear you’re gonna pass out.

Five must notice because he waves his brothers goodbye and leads you back to the hotel room. His hand intertwines with yours, and your face is even hotter now.

“You’re easily flustered, darling,” Five said, opening the door to his room.

“You’re not usually so forward, that’s all,” You shrug.

“Well, I’m retired, so I get to spend the rest of my life loving you.”

You hide your face in your hands at his comment. “Five!”

He chuckles, peeling your hands away carefully. “There you are, pretty girl.” Five cups your face in his hands, pressing a tender kiss to your lips that has you internally screaming.

“The rest of our lives is just gonna be this,” He promises.

“Really?”

“Really.”

— END —

🏷 five taglist: @clearbasementvoid @halfumbrella @esmedith @navs-bhat @alexxavicry @thelaststraw3 @rainbows-r-nice05 @gcldtom @bokuakadaily @3ternalreal1ty @umbrellatte @hahaspoilerhaha @mi1kobitch @analuizafernandescavalcante @icarus-star @yuki1s--note @m4nd0l0r @ells-graveyard @eichenhouseproperty @iaevs @oneirataxia-girl @ay4kshalatus

[iheardarumorthings]

HEY BESTIE CAN U MAKE A BLURB OR SOMETHING ABOUT FIVE HARGREEVES DURING THE FIRST EP OF S3 like yk the one where he saw delores after jayme spits on him and the reader who happens to date him saw it and like "wtf is he doing" and heard the name delores coming out of his mouth and the reader just goes silence after that scene BECAUSE THE READER IS THINKING ABOUT IT A LOT LIKE "is he actually still in love with a mannequin" and like very angsty afterwards but Five confronted her why she's being so quiet after their visit at the sparrows and the rest is up to u :] TYSM IDK ITS MY 1ST REQUEST ACTUALLY AND I CANTTT STOP THINKING ABT S3

ANGSTANGSTANGST

warnings: i think there's swearing, female reader (in my mind, but i can't remember using pronouns), angst. hardcore angst

tags: @mad-elia

PERFECTION

You were both running to get to Allison, his arm was around your waist, the other arm stretched toward the cornered woman. 

“Thanks,” she heaved once the three of you made it to the upstairs. 

“No problem,” Five said.

And then you saw her. She was a taller woman with electric black hair and green eyes. 

He told you guys to go, that he’d handle the woman. While Allison ran, you lingered, hiding behind the wall, watching.

He hit her over the head and she let out a groan of pain. Good. He could handle anything, your boyfriend. You had no doubt he’d be able to handle this easily; after all, he was probably the quickest thinker out of everyone. He could do anything and everything and that was only one reason you were irretrievably, desperately in love with the man.

And then came the spit, along with a hiss bubbling from the woman’s mouth. Jayme, you think her name was. Jayme. It sounded about right.

You wrinkled your nose, much like Five who began to berate her. “Agh! Hey, gross, alright?”

But before he could continue the usual lecture about sanitation, his face went glassy. Sweat built up on his forehead, and he began to walk around almost aimlessly.

“What the hell?” you heard him whisper. His eyes were directed toward the stairs, as were Jayme’s.

You ran out, looking at him, but didn’t touch him. Disturbing people when they’re in a trance could end dangerously, you heard. 

“What did you do to him?” you whispered, but she heard it and only smiled. It wasn’t one of those soft smiles; it was something similar to Five’s smile when he was irked. It was crooked, fake.

“I’m only showing him what he wants, kid.”

“Dolores?” Five whispered. You could feel your heart shatter.

The mannequin; that mannequin that sat with the both of you through the darkest nights of the apocalypse. She was there through everything; he always seemed to choose her over you. Even after you two were together. Dolores this; Dolores that; “Dolores would look good in this, wouldn’t she?”; “Dolores, you’re perfect”; “Dolores, I love you”.

You thought it was over. You thought he was over the stupid mannequin; you thought he loved you, only you. You thought that you two were meant for one another, the stupid soulmate shit everyone preached. But, you could see now, you clung on too tightly to the dreams a little girl would have.

You could see him break out into a smile, a genuine one. “Dolores.”

And then came the italian. 

“Really? Italian? Holy shit. Do you think I could get out of this without fighting you?” you asked Jayme. She raised an eyebrow at you before quickly turning to Five. “I’m way to tired for-”

He began to make out with thin air. 

Well, fuck.

“Okay, I’m just going to go,” you said, holding back the tears that threatened to spill.

You only just turned your back when you heard Five tumble down the stairs.

~*~

“Just gonna sit. I’m just gonna sit for a minute,” Luther groaned.

Your bones were cracking. You could practically collapse right there, plopping down on the top of the bench, lying there, mimicking Klaus on the table next to yours.

“Oh, I’m cracking,” Klaus said, a grit to his voice. You could second that.

“You all good, Klaus?”

“Fine, (Y/N/N), you?”

“Could be better.”

Five climbed on top of the table, sitting on the edge and placing your head gently in his lap. He began to run his fingers through your hair, his rhythm was constant. His love wasn’t. He grazed a cut and you hissed.

“That’s one hell of a cut, Sweetheart,” he mused quietly. You used that as an excuse to get out of his lap.

“I’m fine.”

You could see him flinch- just barely, not enough to catch if you weren’t paying close attention- at the slight harshness in your tone.

Good.

~*~

“CHET! Mon frère! I’d like my usual suite, por favor!” Klaus announced excitedly to the man at the front desk. He was older, his wrinkles prominent, but his hair still maintaining a blondish color that grasped onto hints of youth. 

“I’ve never seen you before,” Chet deadpanned. 

“See? Told you. Discreet.”

“Great job, Klaus,” you giggled; in turn, he wrapped an arm around you and wrestled you into his side.

“Don’t sass me, kiddo. There is such thing as a time out corner, you know.”

The dog’s whimper interrupted the conversation very quickly. 

“Please stop scaring my dog,” Chet said.

“We need some rooms, please.”

“Super.” Chet pulled out a sign with the words only a nightmare could hold. “And how will we be paying today?”

Well shit.

“Fine,” Luther said. “Empty your pockets. Come on; something.”

You dug around in your pockets, finding a dagger and an extinguished cigarette. 

“(Y/N)! Come on, really?” Five scolded.

“As if you haven’t had a cigar before.”

“Condoms?” Luther asked.

“I think you can exchange those for cash,” Klaus replied, causing you to giggle.

“Come on, you two, put the knives away!”

Luther looked around. “Oh, all right,” he sighed, removing his watch. Klaus marveled at it as he handed it to Chet. Examining it, Chet grabbed three room keys.

“Well, let’s Brady Bunch this bitch.”

~*~

Only one room had one bed, so you and Five were assigned to that one.

“Let’s unpack. Settle in.”

“And what do we have to unpack?” you questioned, eyebrow cocked.

“Yes, Darling, isn’t that liberating?”

“Fair enough.”

“Alright then,” Five said. “Let’s fix you up.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

You didn’t want him touching you anymore. You didn’t want him lying to you anymore.

“You know what I mean.”

“Fine. I’ll get Allison in here-”

“Why Allison?” he asked, eyebrows furling. You could see the hurt flash in his eyes. Your heart broke and soared at the same time.

“You know why, Five. I saw everything.”

“Everything? I don’t get it.” He approached you, reaching out. You pulled back. He took another step forward. This kept going until your back hit the wall. He quickly brought his arm up, trapping you there. “I don’t understand. Why can’t I take- what did you see?”

You laughed, but stared at his arm. He was serious.

His other hand made its way to your hairline, brushing it softly. “I don’t understand.”

You recoiled, causing him to flinch once more.

“Sweetheart, we’re done. It’s all over; no more apocalypse, no more nothing. This is it! We can be happy- just… tell me what happened. I’ll fix it. I swear I will. I can’t afford to lose you after everything. I’ll fix everything, I promise, just please tell me what-”

“I saw you making out with thin air.”

“After what Jayme did? I thought I told you to run-”

“I hung back to make sure there wasn’t any funny business.” His arm loosened and you made your exit, walking toward the door. He didn’t jump toward you. He didn’t do anything. He just looked. “Turns out, there was some funny business. You’re still hung up on Dolores.”

“No,” he whispered. “No, (Y/N), I swear to God, I-”

“I heard everything, Five. So, we’re hanging out here for the next few days and then I’m out. I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore.”

“(Y/N), I love you. Not Dolores, you.”

“I have come second to her after years, Five. Years I have waited for you to come around, and when you finally did, I was stupid enough to believe it was true. I was foolish enough to believe you could actually love me, that someone would actually love me. But, of course, I should’ve known: you can’t get over something so perfect that quickly.”

“You are perfection,” he whispered, tears in his eyes. “You-”

“No, Five. You can’t- I know what I saw. I know what you want, and that’s not me. Now, if you excuse me, Allison will only be available for so long. I’m going to need this cut fixed.”

You walked out the door with tears blurring your vision.

[a1307s]

Companion #3

(Bart Allen)

[Art is not mine! Credit to onipilot]

Requested by: Feketealkony16

Keys:

Y/N: Your Name

Word Count: 4,041

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Torture

Blood

———————————————————————

     It's been about a month since Bart and I started dating. It's been really nice. I like him a lot. I like waking up next to him, I like playing with his hair, and I really like our kisses. We have also been talking to Canary together which makes it easier to tell him things and has helped me not be so scared of him touching me.

     Another new thing has been us going on runs. My companion has a lot of energy and a lot of stamina which means he can be a handful when he isn't active enough. We talked it over with Canary last week and she recommended to find something we could do together. Something that could be altered so Bart could burn through his energy before bed. We ended up settling on nightly runs. I can work on my cardio and stamina and Bart can run circles to use up his energy.

     Like every night recently, we're on our nightly run. Bart is zooming around town, stopping for a beat when he passes to check up on me. He paces next to me, throwing up two thumbs up. I nod and he zooms away again. I'm not okay, my lungs are screaming, and I want to stop, but there were no missions today, so my companion has extra energy, which means this needs to be an extra-long run or else I won't get any sleep.

     It's hard to keep up with my breathing so I stop for a moment. I hunch over, hands on my knees, as I heave for air. The chilled oxygen burns my lungs, but it's nice to not have such labored breaths. I go to stand up straight again, but before I can there's a sharp pain in my side.

     "What the-" I turn to my right, where the pain is, and I'm meet with Luther's face. No... no, no, no, no, no.

     "Experiment 203," he says, tugging the knife from my side. The blade of the knife is green, the same shining green as the rock that haunts my nightmares. I stay frozen, unable to run or fight or scream. Within seconds the world goes black, the only thing I can feel is my body making contact with the pavement.

————————————

     A light shines behind my closed eyes, slowly pulling me out of my sleep. I flutter my eyes, giving them a chance to adjust to the light. Where am I? Where's Bart? Why is it so cold? Luther! I snap my eyes open, my most recent memories flooding my mind. Luther, the knife, the concert. 

     I scan my surroundings. Glass separates me from the room. It's the dark, cold, red room. The room of my nightmares. The room I spent most of my life in. I slam my fists against the glass, my voice tearing from my throat as I yell. "Let me out! Let me out right now! I know you can hear me, Luther! Let me go!" Unsurprisingly, the glass doesn't break despite my strength. It never did before, it's not going to now. Despite that, I continue banging on the glass, trying to make it crack.

     "Experiment 203," Luther's voice comes through the speakers in the room. This isn't real. It can't be real. I'm just having a nightmare. Any minute now I'll wake up with Bart wrapped around me in bed. "Welcome back to Cadmus. You've been missed."

     Lair. Dumb, mean, abusive, lair. "Let me out!" I scream again, the feeling of blood trickling down my hands from the continued contact with the pod.

     "No can do, 203. We have more tests I need to run. Plus, now I have to restart everything. I can't have you acting like Project Kr." 

     "My name is Y/N! And my brother's name is Conner! Y/N and Conner! Conner and Y/N! We are people; We have names!" The glass in front of me is stained with my blood, the stain only getting worse as it rolls down the front of my - the pod.

     The speakers stay silent, the voice being replaced with the sounds of fans turning. The pod is filled with gas, making it hard to stay awake, to stay fighting. My fists get slow, and my eyes get heavy as I breathe in the air. I can't pass out again. I can't be vulnerable. I can't let Luther get the upper hand. Even with my best efforts, the world starts going dark again. No, I can't live like this again. I can't go through all this again.

————————————

     The end of Luther's knife dugs into my bone again, the tip of it sliding against the hard material. "What's your name?"

     "Y/N." 

     The knife is pulled out before quickly being plunged back into me. This time, the tip of it digs between two bones. Luther tips the knife, forcing the bones apart slightly, causing new waves of pain to ripple through the numbing pain. Tears trickle from my eyes as I tug against my restraints, the rough edges of the kryptonite digging into my wrists and ankles again. Blood trickles from the new wound. I've grown used to this, grown used to the only warmth coming from my blood escaping from my injuries.

     I don't know how long I've been here. How long I've been running tests so long that I can't even stand by the end of it. How long Luther has been tearing my flesh apart piece by piece.

     "What... is... your... name?" He asks again, removing the pain for a second before plunging the knife back into the same place, over and over again.

     I need it to stop. I need him to let me go back to my pod. I need to sleep. I need a break from the pain. "Experiment 203."

     "Good Job!" Luther cheers, removing the knife from me and letting it clutter onto the medical table I've been tied to for hours. Or maybe days. Maybe even months. I can't tell anymore. 

     It's been terrible, it's been tiring, it's been the same it was before Project K- Conner saved me. The same exhaustion I can't wash away from the overuse of my abilities and the under-given chance to sleep. The same exhaustion from lack of food, lack of light, lack of anything except pod, tests, and pain.

     Occasionally anger bubbles in me. At first anger at Luther, and now anger at the league. Where are they? Why haven't they saved me? Do they not care? Does Bart not care? Has he already moved on? Cut his losses? Has he found a new companion? A new relationship? Is he someone else's boyfriend? Does he miss me? Does he think of me?

     "Are you thinking of your little speedster again?" Luther asks, his eyes as dark as ever as he pats at my wounds with a cloth. He says he doesn't like blood in my pod because it could ruin the wiring and 'we can't have a dysfunctional cage for you, can we?'.

     I stay silent, focusing on the lights above my head. They're bright and burn my eyes when I look into them, but I don't care. At least this is pain I can control. The only thing I can control.

     "He's not coming for you, and neither is Project Kr. Do you really think they'd risk getting captured to save you again? You're worthless to everyone but me. I'm the only one that sees any worth in you, the only one that cares. The league couldn't care less about-"

     "I know," I whisper, cutting Luther off as I blink my eyes, giving them a little rest from the light above. He's wrong... maybe. Probably... probably not. If he was wrong, why would I still be here? If he was wrong, why would I still be hurting? Bleeding? At least he cares, right? If he didn't care he wouldn't put so much effort, some much time into me. "Thank you," I murmur, pushing down a whimper as he dips the cloth into one of the newer wounds.

     "What a good pet," Luther says, moving closer so I can see his face. His eyes aren't dark anymore, they're almost sparking as he smiles at me. "Good, good pet," he adds, running his hands through my blood-soaked hair. At least I know Luther still cares.

———————————— 

     The metal infused with kryptonite wrapped around my neck and wrists clink around as I fall to my knees. In the past while Luther has been testing my jumps, he wants me to jump higher, he wants me to fall harder, make the Earth shake more. He thinks if I work on it enough my genes will unlock flight so I'm better than Project Kr - Conner. My brother's name is Conner.

     I stay curled up on the floor, my breathing sounding louder than it is as it echoes off the walls. "Luther?" I call after a pause of silence. Usually, he calls in, and tells me to do it again or that I failed or that I did good. Maybe I did really bad and that's why he's not talking. I probably did badly, I'm exhausted, all my limbs shaking from the constant use of my abilities. I did bad.

     The button for the speakers is pressed in the control unit, sending the familiar clicking sound throughout the room. "Y/N?" A voice calls, but it's not Luther's.

     This is a test, a new test. Luther has run this test a few times to 'see if I'm really fixed or if we need another lesson'. I passed it last time - it only took six tries - so I thought it would be done with. Hope used to flow through me when I would hear someone call it out, but that's been beaten out of me, beaten out of my head, my soul, my heart. I'm not being saved, Luther just pulled a doctor and had them call for me to see if I've learned my lesson. 

     "I'm Experiment 203," I answer, turning my head towards the control unit. It's a blackout screen, so Luther can see me, but I can't see him. I did good, I passed the test, and I will get chocolate before going back to my pod today. Maybe I'll get lucky and there will be almonds in it like last time. I hope so.

     Another click, but silence passes over the speakers. "Oh, Y/N," the voice finally says, it cracking as the person speaks.

     "I am Experiment 203. I am Luther's, I belong to him." Why are they still going? I passed the test; I said the right thing. I want my chocolate, my pod, my sleep. I am being good, so why won't Luther give me my reward? 

     I stay still, waiting for Luther's voice. The heavy door behind me opens, filling the room with screeching as it moves on its hinges. "Luther!" I call, trying to be cheery and smile despite my pain. He likes it when I'm cheery, he says it makes me look like a cute puppy dog. It takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the new, brighter light filling the room from the open doorway. When they do focus, it's very much not Luther standing in it. 

     Standing in front of me is someone short, someone skinner than Luther. Where is Luther? Who is this? Is Luther, okay? Why is this person here? Why isn't Luther here? Did I fail? Is this my punishment?

     "Y/N?" They call taking a step into the room.

     "I am Experiment 203!" I try to yell, but it doesn't work out that way. I struggle to my feet, moving as far back as my restraints will let me. Kryptonite digs into my skin as I pull against my restraints, the edges reopening old wounds and causing fresh blood to start coating my skin. My trembling now is a mix of exhaustion and fear.

     The person takes another step forward, the ends of their hair almost glowing from the light behind them. "Y/N?" They repeat, my vision is filled with the green eyes from my dreams. "Are... you're... oh my god," Bart mutters, quickly walking up to me. His hands hover over me as he moves them around, his mouth falling open and shut as he panics.

     "I am Experiment 203," I repeat, trying - but failing - to pull back more.

     "No, your... your name is Y/N," he says, his hands settling on the restraints around my wrists. His own hands vibrate for a while before my shocks drop off my wrists and land at my feet.

     Once again, I try to tug against my collar to get further away from him. This isn't real, this is a test, and I'm failing. I don't want to fail, I don't want to hurt, I want my chocolate. Bart steps closer, his hands moving up to my last restraint.

     "No! Go away!" I yell, shoving him away from me. From my overuse today, my strength isn't super good, and he only ends up on the other side of the room instead of through the wall like I meant. That's not good. I definitely failed this test. I'm not getting my chocolate.

     "Bart!" Someone yells, quickly joining us in the test room. Just like last time, it's Birdman, in the same repulsive blue spandex suit. This dumb bird. He needs to go away. They all need to go away. I'm too tired to pass this test. It's not fair. "Y/N!" Birdman yells, standing up after checking on the speedster. 

     "Go! Away!" I yell again, trying to put more strength behind each word. 

     Birdman's face falls as he snaps open one of his pockets. "I'm so sorry," he says, pulling out a green shiny rock. I am so sick of kryptonite, I'm so sick of people, of men, of heroes, of life. "It'll get better," he says, pushing the rock against my head. The darkness I've grown used to envelopes my mind, making me grateful for the rest even though I'm furious with the world.

———————————— 

     Light peeks through my eyelids, pulling me from sleep like usual. Unlike usual, this light is a lot brighter than the small bulb in my pod. I take my time opening my eyes, eating up the last few seconds of sleep. Who knows the next time I get to sleep? The next time I get to rest. What do I have to do today? Where I'm even at. It's important to enjoy the peace when I have it, especially since I don't get a lot of it anymore. Plus, who knows where Luther has transported me to or what this new place has in store for me?

     When I finally open my eyes, I'm met with a pale yellow wall. It takes a second, but I realize I'm not in my pod. I'm in a bed, with blankets on top of me and pillows behind my head and back. What kind of test is this? What does Luther want me to do in this situation?

     I glance around the room, being met with different furniture. Luther must have really gotten into my head because this room is an exact couple of my old bedroom, from my old life, from when I was a hero and not Luther's pet, his weapon. Fear and anger start stirring in my chest as I take in the space. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, I don't know why Luther is using this room, I don't know why I'm here.

     "Are you okay? Do you want me to go get Conner?" A voice says from next to me, causing my fear to overthrow my anger. I snap my head to the right, being met with an exhausted-looking Bart who's sprawled out in a lounge chair. Out of instinct, I try to tug myself away from him, but I get stopped by restraints around my wrist. "Oh shit, ya, sorry. You kept trying to fight us as we were giving you medical care, so Nightwing put restraints on," Bart says, leaning forward and snapping the restraints off my wrists before placing them on the nightstand. "Nightwing doesn't want them off until you get a psychological scan, but he can fuck off for all that I care."

     I stay silent, frozen in my spot. I am really confused. What is this test supposed to be about? Am I supposed to fight Bart? Is that what Luther wants?

     Bart settles back into his chair, his posture forgotten as he slumps, and his head propped up so he can look at me. His eyes are red and puffy, his cheeks still wet and his breath still hiccupping as he breathes. 

     "Why are you crying?" I ask, turning my attention away from him. My chest is tight, like it used to be when I would look at him; when he was real, when he wasn't just a dream or an illusion for Luther to use against me. This isn't real, Bart isn't real, this is a test. I need to figure out the answer.

     "A lot of reasons," he says, his eyes still burning into the side of my face. He isn't real, this is a test. Luther wants an answer, the correct answer. Focus. "For starters, you're finally safe. I can see you, hear your voice, finally touch you again," he says, leaning forward so most of him is propped up on the bed, next to my legs. I turn my attention back towards him, watching as his hands hover by my face. Is he going to hit me? Scratch me? Break my nose? "Can I touch you?" he asks, his eyes jumping around my face.

     "What?" I ask before I can stop myself. Of course, he can touch me, I don't get a say in it. I don't get a say in anything. People - especially Luther - get to do as they please. I either let them and get it over with, or I get a bigger punishment for trying to stop it.

     "Can I touch you?" He repeats, his hands still and his eyes blinking rapidly in an attempt to push back the growing tears. "I don't... know if you remember, but I promised I would ask before I touched you."

     I do remember that, somewhat. "Oh," I whisper, looking away from him. I do not like this test. It's worse than any of the other ones I've done. I glance at him before focusing on the wall in front of me again. "I don't want to be touched."

     "Okay," he murmurs, dropping his hands to the bed, making sure not to come in contact with me. 

     I snap my head towards him, looking him over, waiting for the punishment for saying no, but nothing comes. Bart just sits there, looking at me, repeatedly blinking even though it doesn't stop the water from dripping down his face. "You're not going to punish me?" I ask slowly, confusion fogging my head. Why isn't he hitting me? Punishing me? Hurting me? I purposely failed the test and yet nothing is happening. How am I supposed to focus on my test if I'm not hurt? I need the pain to remind me this is fake.

     "Of course not. It's your body, if you don't want me touching it, I won't," he answers, leaning back in his chair with his face buried in his hands.

     I watch carefully as he rubs his face and pushes out a big sigh, a quiet scream squeezing out with it. "It's Luther's body," I mumble, scrunching up the bedding in my hands. Luther's body, Luther's pet, Experiment 203, that is who I am, what I am. I am a weapon, not a human.

     "It's your body, Y/N. It belongs to you, it is yours," Bart answers, his tone exhausted but firm. "You are a person, with basic human rights." I look back at the boy next to me, his arm resting across his face as he looks at the ceiling. Tears roll off his jaw, colliding with the chair under him. Why does he keep crying? He gets to see me, big deal, it's not like he cares... right? Maybe this isn't a test, maybe this is real.

     "Bart?" His name feels weird in my mouth after all this time. It feels bittersweet. It almost hurts saying it. 

     "Y/N?" He calls back, his arm dropping from his face and his head lifting to look at me.

     "Is this real or is it another test?" It's dumb to ask that. If it's a test I instantly fail and I'm going to have a long, painful night on that stupid table.

     "This is real," he answers softly, shifting in his chair. "Move over, please - if you want to! You don't have to."

     I look at him for a while, watching him watching me, before scooting over in the bed. Once I'm moved, Bart climbs into the bed next to me, making sure not to touch any part of my body as he settles in beside me. I settle on focusing on the wall again, letting my ears bounce around this place. There's a lot of talking, a lot of crying, throughout this place. Conner and Birdman are yelling at each other, about me, about my restraints. This is real. Bart is real. Everything is real. I settle on focusing on Bart's heart.

     "I don't remember your heart being so fast," I say, turning my attention to him for a second.

     "I'm just nervous," Bart murmurs, his gaze rolling over the room.

     "Why are you nervous?"

     He stays quiet for a while, gaze still running around before settling on me. "I'm nervous about what happened to... you... I'm nervous about how it's going to affect you now that you're back home, back safe, with me... I'm really nervous you don't love me anymore."

     "Do you not love me anymore?" I ask, blinking like Bart was earlier as I feel the tears forming in my eyes. Luther was right, my thoughts were right. Bart doesn't want me anymore. He did move on; he did forget about me. This is just him enforcing that. I was stupid to think for even a second that things were going to be okay, that someone other than Luther was going to care about me again.

     "Of course, I still love you!" Bart yells, causing me to jerk away in response. My eyes snap to him, making it more difficult to not cry. "You have been the only thing I could think of for the past two months. The only thing keeping me going. All my decisions, my actions, have been what I think would be best for you, what would be best to get you back. If I wasn't looking for you, I was curled up in your bed, thinking of you, clinging to your scent, your space, the only part of you I still had."

     Bart's face is scrunched up, eyebrows forward in anger, and hot tears rolling down his face again. He opens his mouth to say something else but ends up turning his head away from me. I sit still, waiting for him to turn back, as my own tears spill over. When he does, his face is relaxed, and his breathing is deep. "I'm... I am sorry for yelling. I am not mad at you, I am mad at the situation, which isn't your fault." Once again, he opens his mouth to say something but ends up closing it again. His jaw rolls for a while the almost silent clicking sound filling my ears. "I really love you and... I am mad that Luther hurt you, and I'm mad I lost you, and I'm mad I couldn't save you sooner. None of which is your fault."

     I let out a hum, turning my head forward, filling my vision with the pale yellow of my bedroom wall again. "I love you too," I whisper, sliding my hand on top of his. Instantly, Bart laces our fingers together. I am safe, I am loved, and this is real. Bart is real. I will be okay.

———————————————————————

———————————————————————

[stvrchaser]

façade

( pairing ) : ben hargreeves x reader

( about ) : inspired by s3ep8 — ben wants to know what was so special about the old ben. the reader lets him know that they’re not so different.

( warnings ) : some angst, profanity

( words ) : 1800

( note ) : i wanted to write a multichapter fic but i literally can’t commit to anything so here’s one if my fav ben scenes this season! hope you enjoy! (and i’m really sorry if it’s a little specific for an x reader. i haven’t written anything in about a year and i used to strictly write x oc fics. but appearance-wise, there aren’t any descriptions, so feel free to imagine whomever you’d like)

It’s weird to see Klaus all chummy with Reginald. They’d always had so little in common, so you wonder how messed up the timeline has to be for the two of them to suddenly form this weird bond. It seems like a lot of things are different here, but that’s not your main concern right now.

Klaus is on a mission. You’ve watched him strike up a conversation with nearly everyone in the room and, not only is it killing the mood, it’s also alarming. If there was anything you learned about him growing up, it was that he couldn’t be stopped once he’d made up his mind about something. And, so far, he seems dead set on convincing everyone to accept Old Reggie into the family.

It’s a lot easier said than done.

Your eyes follow him as he walks over to Ben, alone at a table now that Allison has abandoned him. He’s sulking, more so than usual, with a plate full of shrimp and a half-empty bottle of wine. Even from across the room, you can see his brows furrow and his bottom lip jutted out. It was a classic Ben expression, very predictable considering he was at a party. He never did like big events. It’s small similarities like that you find endearing.

You watch him and Klaus bicker back and forth for a few minutes, a sense of nostalgia setting in. They used to do this all the time. You could almost pretend that this was normal, that Ben had lived until this moment, to attend Luther’s properly-timed wedding as if you aren’t waiting for the world to end. Again. It isn’t until Ben throws a shrimp at Klaus that you decide to intervene.

“Play nice, children,” you tease.

“Y/N!” Klaus claps, like some kid exited to meet a favorite celebrity or hero. “I’m so glad you could join us!” He nudges Ben’s foot under the table, a gesture he most certainly does not appreciate.

“What are you up to?” You narrow your eyes suspiciously.

“Oh, we’re just taking a stroll down memory lane. My memories, of course. Our new buddy-roo seems pretty interested in our lovely, lovely brother. You know, his more pleasant look-alike?” Ben looks like he’s about to explode.

“Klaus, play nice,” you remind him. “We’re at a wedding.”

“Oh, you’re no fun! You’re not even drunk, Y/N!”

“Well, someone has to keep you kids in line. Can’t have you setting the Hotel on fire just as we’re sucked into some weird black hole, can I?” Klaus whines.

“Okay, okay! But if I can’t have any fun, you can deal with Bitchy-Benny over there. I don’t think I’m drunk enough to deal with him for the rest of the night.”

“Well, you can’t just leave.” You try your best not to sound panicked because you do not need to be left alone with an overly-intoxicated Ben right now.

“Eh, I’ll see what Vik is up to, maybe congratulate the newly-weds some more. Oh! Maybe Five will let me sing another duet with him!”

“No, no. Klaus, please—“

“Have fun! Don’t do anything I would do!”

“You son of a—“ Your voice trails out as Klaus continues his… well, whatever he’s doing. You force your eyes away from him, ending up face-to-face with very irritable company.

Ben glares at you through half-lidded eyes, his face held in his hands.

“What?” you snap. “Is it past your bedtime?” You look around the room, hoping for an opportunity to escape. Maybe you could clean up that table over there, or help with the music selection. Five already downed half of the champagne, maybe you should get more—

“Why do you hate me?” You turn your head back so fast you think you might have pulled something in your neck.

“Why do I… what?”

“All you idiots talk about is the other Ben and how he’s sooo much nicer. You all act like he’s the best. What about me? Why don’t you like me?”

Oh, God. This isn’t happening. He couldn’t honestly be asking you to compare them, not now. Not when you’ve managed to bottle up every nasty thing you have to say about him. This was supposed to be a fun night.

“Are you serious?”

His jaw shifts and his lips press into a frown.

Oh, it’s happening.

“Well, you’re an insufferable bastard.”

“Okay, but you like the other Ben.”

“Yeah, we love him.” He whines, unsatisfied with the answer. It’s like arguing with a child who asks too many questions.

“Why? What was so special about him?”

“He wasn’t an insufferable bastard.”

“But Klaus said he was a know-it-all.” You hum in agreement.

“A smartass.”

“A scold!”

“Worse than anyone I know.”

“Like— like a dark cloud on a perfectly sunny day.” You figure he’s quoting Klaus. The description sounds weird when he says it, like imagery shouldn’t be his preferred method of expressing things. That’s unexpected, considering the old Ben loved to draw. He could see the world differently, through the eyes of an artist, something you never really understood.

“Yeah, he was always a bit emo. I don’t think he would have ever outgrown it, honestly. I mean, look at you.”

“So what’s so good about him? All of those sound like bad things.”

“Yeah, but they looked great on him.”

“He sounds like a jackass.”

“Well, you have that in common, don’t you?”

“So how come I don’t deserve what he gets? Why is it so easy to like him but not me? If he was so insufferable, what makes him any different from me?”

He’s upset. Well, he always is. But this is different. Ben sounds vulnerable and panicked. His voice sounds hurt and it feels wrong. Asshole or not, in this universe or the next, seeing Ben fall apart is just wrong.

“That was just how he was.”

“So he’s just naturally an asshole but everyone loves him anyway! How is that fair? Dad thought I was good enough to be Number One. I’m so much better than him! Why do you still like him better than me?”

Underneath the part of him that isn’t so desperate to claw his way to the top, you find something familiar. You hear the old Ben who, as a kid, was so eager to find his place — the one who hated missions with so much passion but obeyed every order Reginald had to give. It’s heartbreaking to watch him fall apart all over again when you couldn’t even do anything to help him the first time.

That’s when you feel every bad thing you’ve ever thought about him dissipate. Reginald Hargreeves is tearing Ben apart again, and you’ll be damned if you make the same mistake twice.

“It’s because you’re not Ben.”

“I know that! Everyone’s always telling me that.”

“No, I mean you’re not… you.”

“But I am! You just don’t think I’m good enough!”

“Ben Hargreeves, get that bullshit out of your head,” you say, fuming. “Nobody decides whether you’re good enough or not. Nobody but you. I meant, you’re not yourself because you’re too busy trying to be Number One. You’ve spent your entire life doing every single thing Reginald tells you to do, and you think you have to keep it up all the time. News flash: you don’t.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You have a family.” His voice gets quieter. “The academy is all a have.” Your head leans to the side, subconsciously challenging the statement. You don’t mean to, but it’s almost an instinct to prove him wrong.

“Is it?”

“Yeah, or it was. Because now they’re dead. All that’s left is Sloane and Dad, but you stole them. You… it’s just me, now.”

“They haven’t been stolen from you. They’d just rather find people who care about them than be alone. You know, you’re welcome to do the same.”

“No, I’m not. They hate me.” He mumbles. “They didn’t even invite me to that stupid bachelor party.”

“They don’t hate you. They love you. It’s just… this isn’t you. You’ve been so busy proving yourself worthy of being Number One, you stopped being Ben. And we want the real Ben, not the one who’s constantly forcing himself to be someone he isn’t.”

“But I’m not your Ben. It wouldn’t matter if Dad was here or not because I’m never gonna be your Ben.”

“You are,” you assure him, and you believe it. “You’re always going to be my Ben.”

“We’re not the same.”

“You don’t have to be!” you say, louder than you meant. “I don’t need you to be a shitty dancer or to sing in the shower like you want to shatter the bathroom mirror.”

“Good! Because I don’t!” he shrieks, outraged. Undoubtedly offended. You laugh because you know he’s lying.

“I don’t need you wipe my tears away after a bad day or let me clean the blood off your face after a bad mission. I don’t need you to buy me souvenirs every time you sneak out with Klaus or try to play every song I like on the piano by ear.”

“He did all that?”

“Yeah. He did. But I would have loved him anyway, if he didn’t.”

“Why?” His voice is desperate, pleading.

“Because there isn’t a single thing that wouldn’t make me fall in love with Ben Hargreeves.”

The silence hangs in the air, thick with tension. Ben frowns. You think the moment will end there. Maybe he’ll be offended, or worse, maybe he wouldn’t care at all.

“I would have done the same.”

He looks into your eyes, dark irises swimming with something you’ve never seen before. Not it this Ben, at least. It melts your heart just enough to flood your body with warmth. It’s like the sun peering through dawn.

“If I was your Ben, I would have wanted to do those things, too. For you.”

You let your heart bask in the moment, afraid to let go. This was, and is, Ben Hargreeves. He was the soft patter of rain above an empty house, the whistle of the wind across an open field — the reminder that life holds more than you and the isolated path you tread.

Ben Hargreeves is everything lovely about the world, and it’s a shame he’ll only grace it for the next few hours.

It is, perhaps, the greatest loss the universe will ever know.

You choose to make up for lost time right then and there, coaxing the corners of your lips into a smile. You unravel the knots in your heart and watch his face relax, a new day on the horizon.

Ben Hargreeves will spend the day getting to know love, the world be damned if you didn’t make sure if it.

“I think I would have liked that.”

[kwanzaa-wakanda]

Why you don't know anyone who celebrates Kwanzaa

"Because no one cares"

"Because it's a sham holiday made by a con artist"

"Because it's dumb"

"Because no True African would ever celebrate Kwanzaa."

These are all bad faith arguments. They aren't meant to actually explain why, and do more to devalue the holiday as well as people who celebrate it or at least respect it.

So, why don't you know people who celebrate Kwanzaa? After all, you have so many Black friends, or maybe even you are Black yourself, shouldn't Kwanzaa be everywhere?

This post is a bit long, and some points are explored more deeper than others, but I think this will provide an explanation that's actually pretty fair and common sense. The short version:

Kwanzaa is a newer, anti-consumerist holiday that does not appeal to every single Black person. And that's okay!

1. Kwanzaa is a newer holiday.

Kwanzaa is only about 60 years old. It's not going to be as popular as Christmas. Other holidays, say Veteran's Day, Memorial Day, or Martin Luther King Jr. Day are about as old or even younger than Kwanzaa, so why are they celebrated more widely? Well, it helps that they're all federal holidays with a state structure to back them up. Individual people can celebrate those holidays, but they don't have to, institutions celebrate them for us by giving us time off work and making a public statement (maybe a donation or two). Other than that, those holidays are largely upheld by community events, just like Kwanzaa (more on this later).

The types of family traditions we associate with Christmas take generations to build. Even other older holidays like Mother's Day don't have any real traditions inherently associated with them--we all give our moms a gift but beyond that, everyone engages with it differently.

New holidays need time to catch on. Institutional structures help speed that process along, but Kwanzaa doesn't really have that. So it's going to be slower than others in terms of attracting people.

2. Kwanzaa is anti-consumerist inherently.

In America, consumerism makes up a very large part of how people engage in holidays. Note that I'm not saying "people only celebrate other holidays for consumerist reasons", I am saying that a lot of the driving forces that 'remind' us to take holidays seriously in the US are market forces. We're inundated with advertisements, sales, and decorations that help create a 'feeling' of the holiday (be it Christmas, Valentine's Day, Halloween, etc) which also make it easier to engage with the holiday. We can get the supplies we need at the store. If we don't have plans then there's probably a business throwing a party around that time to keep us entertained. Gift-giving and feast preparation is expressed through buying products en masse so we prepare financially. Holiday specific media sculpts our collective understanding of the holiday's themes even if we don't engage directly.

Kwanzaa, as an explicitlyanti-consumerist holiday, doesn't lend itself to that level of cultural zeitgeist in the US. People exchange gifts and decorate places for Kwanzaa, but commerce during Kwanzaa is typically kept within Black communities through dealing directly with (small) Black Owned businesses. Given that most corporations in the US are white owned, there's very little reason for the market structure to incentive our continued engagement in Kwanzaa. The passive acknowledgement that it's a holiday that exists is the most we can really hope for.

Imagine Halloween without candy sales, Spirit Halloween stores, Halloween parties or costume nights at our favorite restaurants and bars. Imagine no horror movies coming out in October! In a world like that, I and many other people would still celebrate Halloween, but it wouldn't be as easy, and a lot of people probably wouldn't acknowledge it at all, because it isn't as easy.

Kwanzaa explicitly resists the market forces that help holidays stay in our daily lives. We all value our holidays beyond those forces, but we can't deny the very heavy role they play. We can argue that such market forces are morally neutral or even good, but not in this post--whatever your view of holiday consumerism, it's critical to understand that Kwanzaa was organized specifically for people who don't appreciate such consumerism.

3. Kwanzaa does not appeal to all Black people equally.

I think this is one of the hardest points for people both within and outside the community to grasp. The holiday is for Black people, and is meant to appeal to as broad a sampling of Black people as possible. That doesn't mean it will appeal to everyone, though.

The target audience for Kwanzaa is Black people, regardless of nationality, who believe in a shared political unity, heritage, and cultural engagement of all Black people regardless of nationality.

Thing is, not all Black people believe in or value those things. Not all Black people are Pan-Africanist, Afrocentrist, or Black Nationalist, or any other Negritude philosophy. These philosophies are widespread in politics and scholarship, but outside of those dimensions of life engagement with them gets complicated.

You may have heard that "no Africans celebrate Kwanzaa" this is largely true because Africans live in families and communities where their African heritage is already affirmed through other means, including other holidays. Kwanzaa therefore doesn't appeal to them, even if they do believe in all it's themes. Such people may go to Kwanzaa events if invited, but they likely wouldn't hold them for themselves.

Many in the African Diaspora understand their identity most immediately by the region they settled in, and only have a distant sense of African identity. They don't deny being African or having African heritage, but they see being Caribbean, or Brazilian, or American as more relevant. Kwanzaa therefore doesn't appeal to them as it's not specific enough.

Kwanzaa is not closed to any Black demographic and actively encourages all of us to celebrate it. But not all of us will find it appealing.

I would compare Kwanzaa to a holiday like Easter--its a Christian holiday meant to appeal to all Christians equally. But if you aren't church-going and have no children in the family, you probably don't celebrate Easter to any meaningful extent, or your engagement is so personal that it isn't considered very mainstream or traditional.

The point I'm trying to make is: holidays aren't guaranteed to appeal to everyone in their target demographic. Though the reasons why diverge, not every Christian celebrates Easter, not every Black person celebrates Kwanzaa.

4. Communal Kwanzaa celebration is more popular than in-home, but that also carries some drawbacks to it.

Whenever people interested in celebrating Kwanzaa ask me how to get started, I often tell them to look into community celebrations. They're usually put on by churches (perhaps even mosques), community centers, cultural activity groups, or political groups. And therein lies the problem--if you don't live in close proximity to that type of Black community, or the community is invisiblized, then even if there are communal Kwanzaa celebrations to check out you probably won't know about them.

You can't just ask a random Black person about a Kwanzaa event, typically. My advice is to tell people to check out a Black bookstore (and, if available, an African cultural store or an Afro spiritual store). The types of people organizing Kwanzaa events are usually those deeply enmeshed in cultural and political Black discourses, particularly those that affirm an African heritage. But such people aren't found everywhere. In my experience, you can find such people and spaces in most major cities, and so a Kwanzaa celebration probably isn't too far away either. Everywhere else, though...

The only other option to find Kwanzaa celebrations, in my experience, are through Black student clubs in colleges. Not all of them do Kwanzaa activities due to many factors (cost, timing, interest, etc), but my undergrad college did and I know that others throughout the country do. However, such activities may not be open to the public (again, for varying reasons -- cost, timing, interest, college policy...).

When people ask about personal celebration, they usually ask about in-home celebration, treating community celebrations or celebrations in schools as less serious or legitimate. Kwanzaa in general is itself rare, but the idyllic in-home celebration is even rarer -- I myself was raised engaging in Kwanzaa almost entirely through community rather than in-home celebrations (though I started doing in-home for myself in recent years).

---

How, then, should we treat people who celebrate Kwanzaa, or even the non-Black people who don't celebrate it but acknowledge it as a valid holiday?

Honestly, I don't get why that has to be a question. Sure, it's a very marginal holiday, but it's also harmless to treat it respectfully and try and make room in your life in case you ever come across someone who does celebrate it.

I made this post because I often see this idea that people were "tricked" about Kwanzaa. I fail to see what harm has transpired. I don't get why people use their lack of awareness of Kwanzaa or Black communities that celebrate it as a "gotcha" that proves Kwanzaa is a scheme. When I do try to understand the logic underlying this, I come back to this idea that holidays and cultures have to earn respect and validation, that being included in our American idea of "Holiday Time" requires that holidays have a certain number of people we already respect, whom would be offended otherwise.

But that isn't a perspective that I share. I can't say how many people need to celebrate a holiday in America before I stop thinking it an insult or a lie that said holiday be included next to Christmas in a holiday greeting; the number doesn't exist because I don't hold Christmas or Hannukah in so high esteem. I value Christmas in as much as I recognize other people value it, the same is true of Hannukah and Yule (and even the pagan witches I've known didn't celebrate Yule). To me, the only thing one needs to be worthy of consideration as one of The Holidays is to simply be celebrated by people around this time of year.

[eternal-armin]

ii. SO, HOW SHOULD i begin this?

part two woo. hopefully i'll be able to catch up on this and maybe publish some other stuff now that i'm home a lot more often (yay pain and mobility issues), maybe some arcane stuff since that would be fun, branching out into my last hyperfixation again lol. i've proofread so it should be good :>

pairing : five hargreeves x male/transmasc reader [he/him pronouns]

─────

where : after trying and sort of succeeding to get on the hargreeves' good side, five and [y/n] try rationalizing the situation and figuring out something, anything, to do about it.

─────

warnings : mentions of trauma, threats [of physical violence and murder], reader is still totally exhausted because how could he not be, depression, dissociation, pain, bits of shouting, not necessarily a warning but viktor is always viktor in the multiverse because the boy deserves it okay, existentialism, philosophical nihilism, family issues.

five adjusted his clothes in the mirror. although he wouldn't be able to have a proper retirement, he could look like a retired old man, couldn't he? who would've thought that someone could get so excited for beiges and tans. he got an amused look of subtle approval from you. beyond that, it wasn't very hard to look past your façade if he was being honest, you looked hesitant; though could he blame you? there were probably millions of worlds where his family fucked you over or just straight-up killed you. and yet, you also looked too tired to care. he couldn't blame you for that, either.

he touched your shoulder again. in a flit of light, which once again made you feel horribly nauseated and woozy, you were downstairs. surprised exclamations roused from his family.

"anyone know where vanya and allison are?" five asked, glancing with narrowed eyes across the lacking table.

"nope." and after that short reply diego went back to finishing off his meal—for someone who often scarfed his meals down, he seemed to be taking his sweet time. either that or your fun conversation with five had not taken as long as you'd thought; either possibility was equally likely at this point, really.

"nuh-uh... sorry."

"not a clue, unfortunately. something wrong, tiny dancer?" klaus asked.

"well, we have a new problem."

"who's this guy?" luther pointed at you wish his thumb, not caring to cover his mouth; your nausea was worsened to see someone talking whilst eating. diego looked at you then, and you hated how his glare bore straight through your soul. he really, really didn't seem to appreciate your presence. how both of them could so willingly ignore the phrase 'we have a problem,' especially from five, was unknown to you.

"this is [y/n]. he's one of the sparrows."

you waved once to everyone. whether the sluggishness of the motion, and the weak smile which accompanied it, was due to shyness or exhaustion was incredibly murky and unclear.

"so now we're getting all buddy-buddy with the enemy? do you know how stupid that is?"

"i'm sorry, diego, did you not hear me say that we have a problem?"

"well, you say that a lot, little brother!" klaus leaned forward to see you clearer, giving you a smile. it didn't really placate your anxieties or your strong desire to run, however it was appreciated. he waved, and you again waved back politely, still feeling very... guilty for your earlier flub. it wasn't a new thing, either, and that made you feel even worse. "hello, little enemy! how do you look so young? do you use those, like, '10 years younger' face creams? i didn't know they worked that well—"

"that is not a relevant question, klaus, now can someone please tell me where allison and vanya are?"

you cleared your throat slightly. "vanya is most likely getting a haircut. allison is trying to get to claire, but she's... not going to find her." it left a bitter taste in your mouth to refer to viktor in such a disrespectful way, but you couldn't take that from him. upon receiving suspicious stares from the younger hargreeves brothers, you mumbled a quiet "maybe."

"mind telling us what the hell is going on before i deck this mini-muffin across the lobby?"

"hey, hey, do not use mini-muffin as an insult! those are beautiful things, there's nothing better than mini-muffins when you're on a bender at, like, three in the morning!" klaus got a confused and heavily judgmental look in return for that... beautiful insight.

"[y/n] has the ability to see all other timelines, so he can usually find out the most probable events. okay? good. now i need to find allison, so can one of you fetch vanya, please?"

"no, not good, and no thanks! after all we've gone through, we deserve a proper explanation!" klaus objected. after a second or two of awkward silence, and a scowling glare from five, he gave in with a curt sigh. it sounded more like a groan. the brothers looked at you; klaus was the only one to seem patient, showing the approval of a parent understanding a kid's fear of giving a speech; luther stared at you with a puzzling mix of intrigue and subtle impatience; and diego stared at you with a raised eyebrow, leaning his head in slightly as if to say 'i'm waiting.' five's glare, although still quite characteristic, was a bit softer when aimed at you. you could never feel more put on the spot.

"you've gotta say something, little man, we can't read your mind," klaus encouraged.

"well, uh... i don't know exactly what it is yet, but something is wrong."

"aren't you omniscient or some shit? you can see literally every reality!"

the shouting scared you quite a bit and certainly made your headache worse. you put one of your hands to your head, mumbling, wishing you could just get some painkillers. if only five had given them back.

"don't shout, for fuck's sake," five grumbled, annoyed in his own right.

"i'm not omniscient. if no other worlds know something, then i can't, and... no other world knows yet. but something is wrong." your quiet voice was juxtaposed to diego's, still loud and stubborn like back in the academy. around 79.4 percent of every single alternate world which had diego in it found him like this, angry and short-tempered; it was very interesting. "you aren't supposed to be here. you guys, as you are, don't exist here. i don't think reality appreciates you showing up all of a sudden. and if versions of yourselves already exist in this world, then something will need to... iron out the wrinkles, i guess." you pursed your lips for a second. "not to be too brash or anything, but, to really, really dumb it down, you're a mis—you're mistakes."

"seriously? five, i thought you said that this timeline would be safe to stay in." luther looked like a scolded puppy. you felt bad. he was far too sweet—naive? yes, naive—for this kind of life.

"yes, that's what i thought, but second opinions are pretty valuable in my line of expertise. turns out it was sorely needed." his brows pricked up a few times while he spoke. "but, like you said before, it may be a problem we can solve."

diego remained, unsurprisingly, unswayed. "you better not be including this wad of chewed gum in that 'we,' five."

"what is with you and insulting him? he wants to help. jesus christ."

"last time i checked, his entire family just kicked our asses out of our own house, i have a right to be pissed, and he's lucky i'm in no killing mood."

"i don't agree that he should be killed," luther began in solidarity, "but we have a reason not to trust him, right?"

you took a little breath and exhaled it in a quiet sigh. "i know my family can be... extreme. and bad sometimes. trust me. and i totally understand how you can be angry with them and with me and think that i'm not honest. but i never hurt anyone, and i want to help you guys. you're eccentric yourselves, but usually you're good people. you're, like, an actual family," you added, trailing off, "not a group forced to stay together for monetary gain."

five squinted at you slightly. was that one of the reasons you chose not to grow up? you couldn't be associated with the sparrows if you were half their age. throw on a pair of sunglasses and nobody could recognize you.

jeez. didn't that sound nice.

"you guys really deserve a place to rest. a stable place to live, even. and if we can figure this out, then maybe you won't have to live in constant fear of coming into contact with your doppelganger or something. live, like, normal lives. as normal as they can be, anyway."

diego, much to your surprise, seemed to listen to what you were saying. sure, he still looked quite ticked-off and impatient, but you couldn't really ask for too much from him, could you?

"and you're sure that this is a problem we can actually solve? for good?"

"i'm not exactly sure what the problem even is yet. all i know is that something is wrong. but every problem has a solution, even if it seems impossible sometimes." there was a twinge of sage, melancholic hopelessness somewhere in there, some subtle disbelief. "five is quite the expert in timelines and time travel-related problems and paradoxes, and i'm an expert in alternate realities and manipulating reality itself. if anyone can figure it out, i'm sure we can. and i have no doubt that all of you will also play large parts."

luther's face was screwed into an expression of brazen confusion. "so... we're, like, completely blind, and need to fight an enemy we know absolutely nothing about."

"pretty much," you mumbled.

"surprisingly poetic way to put that, luther, i'm impressed," five mused rather sarcastically. "unfortunately, however, it seems we're gonna have to do something terrible and unprecedented." perhaps for dramatic effect, perhaps to quell his own annoyances, he paused and sighed out a breath. "we're going to have to work together." he did not need to specify the parties specified in 'together.'

"well, personally, i think this is a splendid idea. perfect opportunity for family bonding, i'd say! we're surrounded by decent chinese food and competent beds and cable television. decent music, too! and diego can finally figure out some self-discipline by not constantly threatening to kill [y/n]! marvelous idea little ones." admittedly, klaus's unique way of talking and gesturing was quite calming to you. you were very grateful for him. oddly enough—maybe you should've stopped saying that when it came to the umbrellas—klaus seemed to be that pillar of tranquility for you. viktor as well.

"calm down, calm down. you know that he won't turn against us or whatever? you're sure?"

the question was directed at five but you answered for him. "i'm not strong and i've never been in good health. even christopher, without his powers, would be better at fighting you than i would."

"the fucking cube?" you nodded. he plastered a grin over a pouting scowl. he sighed, giving into the plan. perhaps some remaining distrust still lingered, however, he could deal with it. "we've gotta clue allison and vanya in now. i'll go get vanya."

"finally," five huffed, shaking his head. "i'm going to find allison. you said she's going to try and find claire? i'll go to her old house." and then, the next second, he was gone. a few seconds of... incredibly awkward silence passed, where luther was staring at you whole-heartedly.

"go on and take a seat, young whipper-snapper. do you have any dietary restrictions? or allergies? we've probably got something here you can eat, if you want."

you had asked to walk back home with five.

"why with me?" "it's a little bit selfish, but i really don't want to be alone right now, and you're the number one person i trust right now." "flattering," he muttered. "then why walk?" "i think better when i walk."

admittedly, walking was taxing for you right now, so it may not have been your brightest idea, but after this entire day you needed a nice break; the picturesque city sunset was nice, the breeze was subtle and sweet, and it smelled like food out there on the streets. viktor had offered to talk with marcus and try to make a deal; you'd asked him to be very, very careful. "i don't know if purposely seeking out the anomaly would be more effective, or if allowing it to reveal itself would be better. maybe we should seek it out."

five nodded slightly. "allowing it to reveal itself could mean that it becomes too powerful to stop."

"that's kind of what i was thinking. we don't know how it would reveal itself. what if it destroys something, or changes something? what if it hurts people?" your voice was quieter with that last proposition. it was the worst possible option in your mind; buildings could be rebuilt. changes could be undone, with enough time and patience. but people could not be undamaged, and they could not be brought back to life.

well, not permanently, anyway.

five's pace slowed a bit and he peered at you, strangely, for a moment. you avoided his eyes.

"surprisingly enough, i don't think this is the... worst outcome." "forgive me but i don't really believe you. we've got jack all on either side. essentially, we're alone." "you're used to it, five." "hmph. and you aren't?" "not in this way, i guess." there was more he wanted to say but you would not give him the opportunity to dig too deep. "there are worlds where your family is on board. trusts me, even, after some convincing. and there are also some where we narrow the options down. i'd love to be in one of those. but at least we aren't at each other's throats again, or diego's choking me to death." your voice soured. if you got too close, you could feel that pain. there your mind went then, trying to save your other selves out of some ethereal desperation you could never claw yourself away from.

"ow!" you hissed, clapping a hand to your neck where it had stung, sharp and sudden. "what was that?"

"you were seriously so spaced out you didn't see me?" five asked, though it barely sounded like a question. he sounded just barely concerned. you had looked like a glove without a hand. "jeez," he scoffed, shaking his head. "did you see anything helpful, at least? anything at all?"

your mind was still seared and shattered across uncountable realities and he could see that struggle to ground in your eyes. hear it in your breath. you had little mental fortitude left to respond. "sorry? can you repeat that?"

five didn't roll his eyes. unfortunately, he knew dissociation. he carefully took your hands in his, rubbing your knuckles like he'd seen you do before, and that seemed to give you... some amount of usable energy. it was also sort of difficult not to notice him, of all people, doing it, even while he sported an expression of general distaste for the situation; you couldn't tell if it was falsified or not. slowly, you were returning to your body, and it felt heavier than ever before. "what did you see?" he repeated, just as you asked, meticulously annunciating each word and using a decent pace.

you nodded slightly. "i saw a few other timelines. less fortunate ones." you didn't need to elaborate for five to understand what you were referring to. the broad strokes, anyway. "nothing really useful, though," you added after a second in total defeat.

"shit. well, that's alright." and though it clearly wasn't, you didn't say anything.

"how long have we been standing here?"

"... a minute or two."

"oh, great," you mumbled, shaking your head to yourself. your record was around two hours, sure, but it still sucked. "the... we should seek it out."

"wow. you remembered."

"we were having the same conversation a whole lot. given i was still alive and actually grew to trust you." it was a half-joke but it succeeded in getting a bare grin out of five. "we can't risk hurting other people."

"or destroying something," five added.

"or destroying something," you agreed, then furrowing your brow slightly. a cafe nearby was playing pleasant music; that was something keeping you tethered to this world in particular, as if five wasn't enough, but even he was quiet sometimes. "the only problem is we don't know where it is."

"or what it looks like. if it even looks like something at all. it could very well be invisible or incomprehensible." he scowled for a second, though not out of irritation, thinking rather loudly to himself. "we should start where we appeared, i think." you nodded in agreement. "if your... 'family' decides to work with us, all of us, then we can search a whole lot more. but we should get the basics out of the way."

"the beginning is always the most logical place to start."

"quaint way to put it, did you write the sound of music in another universe?"

"what part about 'literally any possible, feasible universe' do you not understand?" you joked, managing a small smile of your own, and five would be lying if he said he didn't feel a little bit relieved to see you humoring yourself again.

"i deserve that." he paused for a second. "i know you said that walking helps you think, and you definitely need to do that more, but you look like a dead man standing right now. i'd rather just drop you off at the academy and get back to my own family. are you okay to teleport?" you did not respond at first, taking careful account of how you felt and how you may feel after. eventually, and rather subtly, you nodded.

"my room is klaus's old room back in your universe."

"wow, that... makes it easier. safer, probably." that was the closest you were going to get to 'thank you' so you took it. you shut your eyes tight and breathed deep through that half-second nausea-bomb. you were happy to see your room when you opened your eyes; smelling like home, looking like home, feeling like pure comfort. five glanced about your room. somehow it looked exactly like what he expected from you, which was a compliment. it was cozy. well-lived—especially the bed. there were many blankets and pillows and a few stuffed animals, unmade, probably because you barely left it. he couldn't blame you, either.

looking at you, you seemed totally relieved and excited to be back home.

"are you going to let go of my hands now?"

five stiffened for a second, mumbling a hushed apology before letting go, shoving his hands in his pockets. you couldn't help but grin a little, tiredly, and he scoffed when he saw it. "don't look at me like that. i was helping you ground, since you evidently can't do it yourself sometimes." not that he could blame you, really. he couldn't imagine what it would be like to be... you.

you ignored the jab. "i'm surprised you're willing to wait to take care of this," you mumbled, hanging up your scarf and sweater, lazily rifling through your dresser to find something decently comfortable to pass out in. "you always insisted on getting things done quick. if not immediately."

"i'm desperate for one damn moment of peace. the world isn't being decimated just yet. i just want to sleep decently for once."

you smiled slightly. no one could work while exhausted, especially not when it came to your quandary. "go on and sleep then. i'll meet you at the obsidian again tomorrow."

"yeah. oh, uh, just remembered something. close your eyes for a few seconds."

"why?"

"just do it."

you scoffed, though without any sort of animosity or annoyance, shutting your eyes tight like he told you to. you heard the familiar sound of his blinking once, twice. "alright. you can look. here." he held out to you your bottle of painkillers. "nearly forgot to give them back."

"oh, sh—thank you." the relief on your face was quite plain and sort of comforting as well. he mustered a slight hum in response.

"good night."

"night, five. sleep well."

"hmph. we'll see."

[sewinrat]

You as Amanda the Adventurer includes(child reader);

You were just walking around for a new adventure with your pet friend sheep, Wooly! Who was hesitant especially when he feel the bad vibes around the place. After walking for quite some time, you saw a diner called, 'Smile Diner'. You dragged Wooly into the diner with a bright smile.

You enter the place and look around happily. There was not a lot of people. Actually, there's only five people sitting together. You dragged Wooly to a random table. Checking the menu only to find weird things on it but that's okay! You're used to it! "Wooly, what do you want to get?" You ask the sheep across you. Unfortunately however, Wooly had a bit of trouble choosing as he felt weirded out seeing the names. You're starting to lose your temper and keep asking him what he wants aggressively. Until eventually you couldn't wait any longer and yell at him, glitching in and out before suddenly sitting there with a smile again as you calmly ask Wooly what he wants, which caught the attention of the other five people.

Luther in a confused tone wonders why is there a child and a sheep without any adult supervision. Nyen was annoyed but couldn't do anything about it without his master's order yet. Nyon and Sebastian basically try to mind their own business while Randal laughs at the poor sheep who was trembling.

For some reason, one thing lead to another and now you're living with the ivory's. You look oblivious to your surroundings while Wooly is scared for his life, especially around the cat with the Nevada shirt.

You are quite the obedient child with a horrible temper and a gruesome sense of view, humour and mind. You fit well together with Randal as friends. Actually, you and Wooly are exactly like Randal and Sebastian. The only differences are that Wooly let it all happened as long as everything is in control while Sebastian is going to escape any chance he can and you have the worst temper or patience while Randal has no temper. Often times, Randal makes you lose it and it results in you attacking him. But it's all fine in the end. Luckily no one was hurt besides Randal.

Going into a different topic, cats. You look at the two adults being cats and ask them if they talk. Nyen grunts and Nyon stays quiet as always. You however don't mind and instead said, "Animals don't talk like that, silly! They make funny sounds like this; Meooww." You unknowingly mocked at them. Wooly just lowers his head down, remembering the time you did that to him and it doesn't end that well.

There was once where you said something about 'a lonely kitten is out there somewhere. Won't you help the lonely kitten?' This perks up Luther but he doesn't understand what you're trying to say. He wants the find this 'lonely kitten' though. Not knowing what it meant.

You laugh at anything dark honestly and try to make games out of anything. You drag Randal mostly to go on adventures while Wooly and Sebastian awkwardly watch you two in a safe distance. You spoke to the unhinged boy like he was an audience. 'Silly mister fox!' 'Kuku~ he is silly!' Refering to a fox with lost half of it's head. 'The opposite of alive iss..' 'DEAD!~' Randal continued and laugh maniacally as you both stand in front of a grave. 'Let's make an apple pie!' Wooly were holding peaches but it suddenly glitches into apples to which Randal clapped at and leaving Sebastian concerned.

Ranfren Characters thoughts on You(ooc);

Randal: "I like them! They're so fun to play with ~ kuku it's always fun to have a friend like them to play correctly! Ahh but they have such a bad temperr... I guess that's partly my fault heheh~ I wonder what they mean by rotting somewhere far but I feel myself rotting away too!~" Best Friends FOREVER.

Luther: "They are too similar like Randal but oh well. At least they are more well behaved. Randal mentioned that they are rotting like him but I don't pay any mind. A nice addition to the family they are♡ Their pet sheep is nice as well, they're like Sebastian but obedient. I want to find this lonely kitten they mentioned so I can help it♡ However I do think we need to keep that temper under control." He's clueless of your cryptic messages and hints but he'll soon figure out. Very soon.

Nyen: "Annoying brat. Always saying that cats go meow. I hope the lonely kitten they had mentioned dies." Doesn't like you. Best to avoid when Luther is not around. He won't kill you however.

Nyon: Nyon doesn't even came close to you. He only came close to Wooly but that happens once in a blue moon. Avoids you more when he saw how aggressive and dark-minded you can get.

Sebastian: "Ugh... Just another addition to the freaks of a family. Somehow I think they're worse than Randal... Everytime they speak, freaks me out because they always say something weird. I wonder how that sheep handle it.." He's... Just don't bother him that much. He already has Randal on his back. However he is glad that you managed to keep Randal away from him longer.

Bonus! Wooly: "I really don't know how we got into this situation but we can't escape now.." Nothing much to say. Wooly has been with you for so long he knows. He doesn't encourage you but he also doesn't do much unless you're close to being in danger or starting the danger.

[redflagshipwriter]

Reassembly 4

ch1 ch2 ch3

Kon and Peter: clown to clown communication commences.

New York had some massive craft stores. Peter had to direct Kon to one, which was fair but nerve wracking since he didn't actually know for sure it existed here. 

Luckily it did. 

Kon’s stepdad must have been loaded, or maybe Kon didn’t understand finances the same way that Peter did. He loaded up a cart with everything that Peter pointed out. He got two pairs of sewing scissors, which was a wild decision Peter could barely wrap his mind around. Was Kon planning to cut with both hands at one time, or for buddy crafting sessions? Those things were like fifty dollars a pop!

Some consultation with the staff helped them get metal decorative bits and three different sturdy mesh fabrics, one of which had glitter on it. They were all black. Peter eyed Kon for that, kinda impressed by the commitment to an aesthetic. Kon was like a little kid in the store, rolling down aisles on the back of the cart and tossing everything in without even checking prices. Peter found himself caught up in the euphoria and talking waaaay too much shit about projects he wanted to do, despite knowing he definitely couldn’t afford it. He really shouldn’t have. But Kon actually seemed interested when Peter talked about his design for a spidersuit- in a subtle way! And Kon just wheeled back to the big section and started trying to talk him around on the merits of red and blue tinted leather instead of athletic fabric.

It was funny, so he went along with it. And then Kon tipped the entire rolls into the cart and went in search of thread to match.

Peter stared at the back of his head for a long moment processing. Was he for real?

“Hey, I didn’t mean today,” Peter said, scrubbing a hand through his hair and trying to sound casual. “I don’t have any cash with me. I mean, I’ve got some, but not like that much-”

“Don’t worry about it.” Kon interrupted. His voice was a little weird. Almost short. Like he really didn’t want to talk about money. “I have that covered. Luther pays for whatever I want as long as I keep in contact.”

“...Okay, thank you,” Peter said, because that seemed like a great minefield to stay out of. He mentally reclassified Luther to an estranged and possibly financially abusive Dad, not a Stepdad. “Hey, if we’re sewing leather, I don’t think we can do that by hand. You want to look at the machines?”

Two industrial sewing machines and a serger later, Peter desperately and unsucessfully tried to talk Kon down from buying his very own bedazzler. He slouched behind Kon in the checkout line, wondering if this was just the kind of mistake a man had to make for himself. No way was he actually going to get enough use to make it worthwhile, right? Right?

The total made Peter feel kind of green. Kon paid for it all with a swipe and not so much as a blink. Then he bundled up all the bags and hefted them with no apparent effort. 

“Hey, let me help,” Peter protested, strategically snagging a couple. They had two sewing machines for jiminy cricket’s sake, that had to be heavy for a normal guy. 

A moment too late, he realized that Kon was a big strong guy who lifted a lot of weights. He’d probably deliberately taken the heavy bags because he had good reason to think he was stronger than Peter. Aw, fiddlesticks. Should he pretend this was heavy? Had he just given too much away? Kon seemed like a nice guy but Peter really didn’t know-

Kon just let the bags go with a bemused smile and a, “Thanks, dude.” He appeared to have not a single thought about the situation as he started walking to the door. 

Good. He didn’t know that these were like, heavy. It must be nice to be a big strong guy.

Ah, well. Peter trotted after him.

His day had gone off the rails. The library was open now for sure. He had planned to be there by now, refreshing his website design skills. Maybe he’d gotten an email back about a possible job. He really should check-

But it was only one day at the absolute most, Peter justified to himself. And it was really really nice to feel normal again and do something impulsive but harmless with another teenager.

They wound up in an unsettlingly clean, empty apartment. Kon carelessly threw their loot on a pure white rug and walked in without kicking his shoes off. He pulled off his leather jacket and threw it at the couch without looking in a show of coordination that Peter could respect.

Peter shucked his tennis shoes carefully and lined them up against the wall before he ventured in. Kon was already opening up the fridge and pulling out cans. He threw one to Peter. 

Peter caught it without a thought and then blinked at it. Carbonated juice? Weird, but probably good. He said, “Thanks, man,” as he cracked it open. He took a sip and made a face. It was good, but very weird. He looked at it again and noticed that it was also somehow a yogurt drink. Fruit carbonated yogurt was a concept that he had not encountered before. 

‘Don’t be a dork. It’s probably a rich person thing.’

Kon perked up like a dog hearing a car approach. “I have to-” He gave Peter a distracted smile. “I’ll be right back. I have to do something. Could you uh, entertain yourself? Maybe set up our stuff?” He was already edging to the door.

Peter shrugged, confused at the sudden turnaround but amiable. “Okay, I’ll wait,” he agreed easily. 

Kon was gone so fast that Peter almost thought there was something supernatural about it. He shut the door, bemused.

And he did what he said. He cut off tags and threw away packaging. He plugged in the machines and set them up, one on the desk and one on the table. He mused that the apartment was furnished like a fancy hotel room. He sat down on the sofa to wait. 

It took a while. He couldn’t track the time without turning on the evil janitor phone, but Peter was pretty sure that at least like, ten minutes passed. He shifted uncomfortably. Was this weird? 

Kon was awfully casual about leaving someone he’d just met in his space. Peter didn’t mind, exactly. He knew that Kon wasn’t dangerous to him because his spider sense hadn’t gone off at all. But Kon didn’t know that! Didn’t he, like, know about stranger danger? Objectively, Peter could be a pretty dangerous person. Not by temperament, but still…

He sat there for a while and worried about Kon’s self preservation skills. After that, he ended up just getting started on his spidersuit.

Frankly, the leather idea was… Well. He had to rethink some of his concepts, that was for sure. It was easy to make a spandex suit. The hardest part of that was dealing with the endless teasing from Mr. Stark. But leather didn’t have the same stretchiness to it. So he sketched out a few ideas, tossing out numbers and proportions and trying to figure out how much he needed around each joint to accommodate his spidery range of motion. 

And then he remembered that he uh, was doing this with another person present. 

The jumpsuit thing? It made sense when he was wearing Stark tech. There was a big benefit to having no seams. But there was a reason that his first ever suit had actually been in two pieces: that was how normal people dressed. 

‘I can’t exactly tell Kon that I’m a misplaced superhero.’ Peter choked down a laugh and borrowed the leather jacket off of the couch. It would work as a pattern.

He traced the main pieces onto the scrap material they’d gotten. It was a real pain in the ass to do without cutting the clothes apart, but he had a pretty good understanding of how a 3 dimensional object was made from a bent 2 dimensional object and figured out something that he was mostly confident was accurate enough.

Peter put his hands on his hips and looked at his tracing victoriously. Then he frowned. He looked at the jacket again.

Aww, man. He sadly started drawing another line, a couple inches inside the first one.

Kon was big, okay? Kon was a big strong jacked guy! Peter was pretty jacked for his size, too, shoulders way bigger than his waist. But he was uh, just built smaller. The shape would work for Peter, but the size was going to be way off if he just replicated the pattern. He bit his lip as he worked.

“What are you doing?”

Peter jumped four feet straight up in the air and flipped onto the couch. He landed in a spidery crouch on the balls of his feet with both hands splayed down for balance. 

He stared at Kon with wide eyes. Oh, shit. Oh, shit, oh fuck.

Kon laughed. “Sorry, did I startle you?” He draped himself over the couch backwards, head pointing towards the floor and knees over the backrest. The smell of smoke wafted over.

…smoke? What had he been doing?

“Yeah, sorry,” Peter said slowly. 

‘Did he- he didn’t notice that wasn’t normal? Or maybe that’s something normal humans can do here. I mean, Kon can fly!’

Holy shit, he was in the clear.

“I was going to cut myself a jacket pattern,” Peter explained. He got back off his crouch on the sofa cushion. He tried to be as normal as possible about it. Wow, he was killing this. “I used yours to make a pattern, hope that’s okay. I didn’t mark it up or anything.”

“It’s cool,” Kon assured. He tilted his jaw upwards so that he was watching Peter upside down. “Sorry about how long I was gone. I got caught up helping my neighbor’s cat.”

“...With a fire?” Peter asked before he’d thought about it.

Kon frowned at him. 

“I mean, you smell a little smoky,” Peter demurred. 

The other guy laughed nervously. “Yeah, my neighbor is a bad cook.”

Peter nodded and accepted that. He knew all about bad cooks. “Do you cook?” he wondered. “I’m not great, honestly, but I can do a few things.”

Kon perked up again- and wow, this guy was like the world’s largest, most handsome golden retriever sometimes. “Cooking? I ordered everything in- can you show me?” His eyes sparkled like he had never before considered that he could cook for himself. 

Wow. Peter smiled, but he silently judged Kon’s parents. Why didn’t he have any practical life skills? “Yeah, of course. What do you have for groceries? Your parents won’t mind if we cook?” He started cutting out his pattern pieces in the test fabric. He had 5 main ones- two sleeves, a back panel, and two front pieces. Shit, he’d need to get a zipper, wouldn’t he?

Kon snorted and let his head fall back and hit the bottom of the sofa. “I live alone,” he said. “No one is going to even notice.”

“...How old are you?” Peter asked.

“Two,” Kon lied blithely. 

Peter made an aahhhh of comprehension. Fair enough. “I would have guessed like, 17,” he said.

“Is that how old you are?” 

“...Yes,” Peter lied, remembering that’s what his ID said now. He finished cutting out the back panel and put it aside.

Kon flipped himself up and back onto his feet. “Cool. I’m like, 16,” he said. “Basically.”

…That was a weird thing to say, but Peter noted it. Maybe he meant he was 15 going on 16. That would actually make them the same age.

“Are you from here?” Peter decided to move the conversation into more neutral territory. “I am, I’m from Queens.”

“Baller,” Kon said. “Nah, I’m from Hawaii. I recently moved to the mainland. I still have a place back there, but I have some things to do over here and they’re always kinda last minute, you know?” He scrunched up his face. “Flying over everytime someone has an errand gets kinda tedious.”

“That’s true,” Peter agreed. 

Kon seemed to brighten. “Plus, my friends are here.”

“That makes a big difference.” Peter smiled at him, genuinely happy for the dude. Maybe he had a shit time at his high school in Hawaii. Maybe he got bullied for being too big and handsome and friendly. “Hey, did you think about how you want to add the mesh to your jacket? It is this jacket you wanna alter, right?”

“I want to replace the back panel,” Kon said instantly. “Like, the seams and structure are the leather, and then the back is see through. Wouldn’t that look so fucking cool?”

“It would look cool,” Peter had to admit. It was the kind of look he wouldn’t go for, personally, but he might if he had traps like Kon. Still, he had to check. “You don’t use this for protection, right?”

Kon stared at him blankly.

“Like, for riding a motorcycle or something?” Peter prodded. Wow, he felt awkward. This was dumb. Kon wasn’t actually a 2 year old with no life experience. He should have kept his mouth shut.

“No, but why would that matter?” Kon asked slowly.

Peter felt his shoulders ride up, like he could turtle away from the conversation “Uhhh, well the mesh isn’t going to be as strong as the leather. Obviously. So if you fell, you might get more scratched up. That’s all.” 

God, why did he talk? Why did he ever talk?

“Ohh,” Kon said. Then he huffed out a laugh. “Nah, that’s not an issue for me. I’m tougher than that. Also, I don’t ride a bike.”

“You don’t do anything dangerous, then,” Peter confirmed with some relief. “Cool. So, I was thinking that we should leave a bit of the leather to attach the mesh to. Gimme? Thanks.” He took the jacket. He barely noticed that Kon was giving him a really weird look. “So, if it was my project, I would cut out a rectangle…. Well, it curves by the neck, but still. I would cut out the leather, leaving like an inch beside each seam. What do you think?”

“Sounds good.” Kon took the jacket back and picked up one of the sets of scissors. He played with the scissors for a moment, opening and closing them at high speed. “Vroom vroom, let’s go.” He flung himself onto the floor, back pressed to the sofa, and started cutting.

…Peter took a moment to hope that he hadn’t given advice that would ruin Kon’s jacket. He went back to his project until Kon said, “I’m done. What’s next?”

“Which mesh do you want?” Peter asked. Then he sucked in a break. “Ah, fuck.” 

“What?” Kon was standing so fast that Peter didn’t actually see him move. He looked tense and ready for action.

Peter didn’t notice. He was pressing his thumb and forefinger on either side of his nose and wondering why he was such a dummy all the time. “We need to wash the fabric first,” he said apologetically. “Obviously not the leather. But the mesh needs to be washed. Where’s your washer?”

He gathered up the fabric and followed Kon’s instructions. Kon trailed behind, obviously curious. “Why do we need to wash it?” he asked.

“Uh, it’s never been washed before, right?” Peter explained. He shoved the fabric inside and started looking for detergent. “Usually fabric shrinks when you wash it for the first time. So if you cut it first, sew it in place, and then eventually wash it, it’ll shrink and like, warp, and ruin your stuff.” He grimaced at the memory. Kon had bought the supplies like the cost was nothing, but Peter remembered vividly the crushing disappointment and pain of accidentally ruining something he’d made. Fabric wasn’t expensive, but it was expensive when you didn’t have money.

‘I just lucked into this,’ Peter thought, and felt guilty. ‘I’m going to be able to have a spidersuit just because I happened to meet Kon and he was nice enough to spend money on me. Am I taking advantage of him?’

He put the detergent into the load and started the washer. Man… He needed to make sure he was a really good friend to Kon. Because that’s what this actually was, wasn’t it? Kon had immediately started hanging out with him and bought him things because he was lonely. He was trying to get a friend. It was kinda like Mr. Stark, except less pathetic, because Kon wasn’t a super rich superhero with awesome super friends who could just tell them he needed help. Kon was a teenager who lived on his own and had an estranged Dad and maybe like, no one else in his life. Did he even go to school? Was whatever was going on with him even legal?

“...Do you want to get started on lunch?” Peter suggested. He was hungry, but that wasn’t why he asked. They had time to kill and he wasn’t going to make Kon watch him work on the spidersuit. 

“Yeah! What do you want to make?” Kon followed him back to the kitchen and watched with a sort of pleasant curiosity as Peter checked the fridge and cupboards. Literally the only things sitting out on his countertop were a bottle of dish soap and a sponge. That was it.

The fridge had canned drinks and take out leftovers in it. The cupboards had two cups, one of which was storage for a fork, spoon, knife, and pair of chopsticks. 

Peter gave Kon a strained smile and bent to check the lower cupboards.

They were empty and eerily clean. There weren’t even any cleaners in there, so that was wild. “Kon,” he started, and then didn’t know where to go with it. “Do you own a pot or pan?”

“No, why?” Kon cocked his head at him. He honestly seemed just curious and not a bit embarrassed. “Should I?”

“...We need one to cook in,” Peter said. And a few other things. Did– did Kon not own any plates, either? 

‘I guess he wouldn’t need one if he gets take out and uses the containers all the time,’ Peter rationalized. ‘But who lives like that? Why didn’t someone teach him how to live like a person?’

And who was cleaning this place? It hadn’t seemed so weird when he entered. But now that he knew Kon lived alone, this was just bizarre. If Kon wasn’t living with a neatfreak parent and he didn’t own anything but dish soap, how was his apartment so clean? Did he have a maid service or something?

Kon was way weirder than Mr. Stark. Peter gave his new friend a queasy smile when he realized that. Man, this guy needed help. “So, if we don’t wanna do takeout, we need to go shopping,” Peter said. That was an understatement. “A pan, a couple of plates, and groceries.”

Kon pulled the wallet out of his back pocket and waved it around. “That’s fine. Lexy has it covered.”

‘Lexy? Not Luther? Is Lexy his stepmom or something? Or is that a nickname?’

Normally, Peter would feel bad about spending someone else’s money. But this time he felt a kind of vicious satisfaction in the idea of running up this dude’s credit cards. Wherever Kon’s Dad was, he was a dick and he owed his kid some vegetables and a frying pan. “Yeah, okay. Do you have reusable bags we should grab on our way out?”

“I don’t think so. What are those?” Kon asked.

“...We’ll buy some,” Peter decided. “They’re usually made of canvas or something. It’s so that you don’t have to buy the one use plastic bags all the time. Let’s go.”

“Cool.”

Kon in the group chat: guys I have made a CIVILIAN FRIEND. 

Bart: neato im happy for u!

Cassie: big if true

Tim: What’s his ssn i just wanna check something

Kon: I don’t think he knows I'm a superhero. It’s nice, but is that weird?

Cassie: probably because you’re not famous enough yet sorry

Tim: get gud

Bart: get good

Kon: fuck u guys. I’m undercover. I’m being so normal.

[helyiios]

Gabriel in mi8 mocking Benji in front of Ethan. He knows a lot of stuff about Benji from the Entity. Imagine him mocking Benji's self-harm and maybe other personal things Ethan doesn't know about in front of Ethan.

Gabriel was rotting behind bars. It had taken Ilsa almost dying, Luther having to disappear for at least three months, Benji barely surviving frostbite in Antartica and Ethan jumping from a cliff on a motorbike, but at last, Gabriel was no longer free.

Which, all things considered, Benji should feel relieved about. Sadly, he doesn't. There's an odd pull at the back of his mind, a fear that it was not over—after all, even after London, Lane had come back, almost killing him. He'd learnt not to take jailing for granted.

More importantly, Gabriel had made a request, something odd in itself, anyway, to see him and Ethan, to, and he quotes, 'talk some things out,' which by the way, he thought was complete bullshit. He's still on his way, though, walking nervously down the IMF's large halls and cream coloured tiles, tugging slightly at the sleeves of his suit.

It was going to be fine, he thinks, you're not in danger. Ethan will be here, Gabriel can't harm you, it was going to be okay.

Ethan was also here, when Lane abducted you, a seething voice coos back at him, and he shakes it away.

Enough.

When he gets to the doors he notices that his friend was already here, running a hand through his hair (which has grown longer and thank God he hadn't thought of cutting it away just yet,) and smiling once he'd spotted the other man.

"Hey," he offers to him, a small smile curving his lips. "All good ?"

"Nervous," Benji admits, shrugging barely. "I think I liked him more when he was unconscious in the back of our truck."

"Isn't that the truth," Ethan chuckles lowly, but still raises his hand to gently grab his friend's shoulder, barely applying pressure there, "it'll be alright. Don't worry, it's not like he can do anything."

"I know. I'm just anxious like that."

"You can rely on me, yeah ?"

"Yeah."

They leave it at that, making their way to the cell, staying sat up straight as the curtain clicked open, revealing a very unkept and tired looking Gabriel staring back at them, sporting a beard and cuffs on his wrists. The glass that separates the three men does not make Benji feel safer.

There's a faint silence where they all breathe, glancing at one another, looking determined on Ethan's side, unsure on Benji's, and delighted on Gabriel's. Which was, in no way, a good thing.

"I see you've granted me of your presence," the latter says finally, voice more alike a chirp than anything else, "the IMF has a heart."

"What do you want ?" Benji forces out, his hands linked behind his back, fingers laced anxiously, "was a life sentence not fun enough ?"

"Of course not, Benjamin," Gabriel smiles, moving his attention to him, "I just thought that it would be interesting to...drop the masks, you know ? If we were to come clean, of course."

"There are no masks here," Ethan rebuts him, face commanding. "You're talking nonsense, and making us lose our time."

"Please," a laugh, "are you not interested in knowing the man who helped bring my AI down ? Knowing him more...deeply ?"

Benji shifts uncomfortably.

"I know what I need about Benji," his friend replies carefully, tone not betraying anything but disinterest. "You're bluffing."

"Oh, but I think that he's hiding a few many things from you, are you not, Benjamin ?" Gabriel retorts, locking their gazes mercilessly. "I'm not in a rush, unlike Solomon Lane was. I don't kill my preys, I play with them a bit, before engulfing them whole."

"Okay, mate," Benji snorts, "you're not," he raises his hands in air quotes, "engulfing shit. You're serving a life sentence. In hyper secure jails."

"Oh, do be careful, I can see your disgusting wrists when you raise your hands," the man grins, wolfish, pointing at him with a vague gesture of his arms. "Now, we don't want Ethan to see that, do we ?"

Benji's face visibly blanches, and he immediately drops his hands to his side.

"Leave Benji out of this," Ethan growls, forcing his own arm in front of his friend in a defensive stance, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"What I am talking about ? Why, of course, about his fun extracurri—"

"Quiet," the third man seethes, eyes barely slits with wrath, "shut the fuck up, understood ?"

That seems to take his friend aback.

"Benji," he starts, worried, "are you okay ?"

"I'm fine," he replies, fists shaking, "don't listen to him."

"What ? You haven't told your little friend how you like to slash your arms when you're upset ? You mean to tell me he's never seen you in short sleeves ? Because I have, and it's not pretty."

"PISS OFF !" Benji barks, taking a step towards the cell and banging on the glass wall, teeth bared, "how fucking dare you—"

Ethan's gone quiet, eyeing Benji like he'd just told him the world was about to collapse. His mouth hung slightly open, and his brows were raised in alert.

"You'd think I didn't know ?" Gabriel mocks him, eyes at the other's level, "I saw it all, with the Entity. I saw you in that shitty motel room doing lines of cocaine after a stressful mission, and I saw you cut your arms and thighs with that very ugly razor. I saw who you are, Benjamin Dunn," he continues, voice sweet as honey, sticking everywhere and leaving sugary traces, pretending like his words were not crude and cruel.

"Ethan, don't listen to him," Benji presses on, slamming his right fist on the wall, "Ethan."

"Is this true ?" the other agent can only ask, face falling completely, "Benji, do you—do you self-harm ?"

"You weren't fu—you weren't supposed to know," his friend frustratedly says, his body not facing him, "it's just—it helps me calm down."

"Benji, I don't think scarification has ever helped anyone calm down !" Ethan protests, voice raised in sheer alarm, "fuck, I—“

"I know what I'm doing, leave me be."

"No—Benji," he insists, "I had—I didn't know, I'm so sorry—“

"I don't need your pity !" Benji shouts back, finally turning to look at him, "what I do in my free time is none of your concern, alright ?"

"Not if it harms you !"

"What the fuck happened to bodily autonomy ?!"

"Benji, please ! I just—" Ethan closes his eyes, running a hand on his face, "fuck. And that makes you laugh ?" he says brutally, turning back to Gabriel, fuming, "you think this is laughing matter ?!"

"I think it's hilarious," the man replies, face twisted in a sick, disgusting smile. "You both make me laugh."

"I'll kill you," Benji furiously spits, "I'll fucking kill you."

"Like you killed Solomon Lane ?" Gabriel beams, before having the gall to look contrite, "oops. Another thing I shouldn't have said ?"

"You k—"

"Oh, piss off," the Brit cuts him off, anger directed at Gabriel, "you know what ? Sure. Sorry you've got to learn it that way, Ethan, but I got permission to put a bullet in Lane. There."

"Benji. I had no idea," Ethan flatly says, but he doesn't seem too fazed by it. If anything, there's a twinkle of interest shining in his irises. "I hope it felt liberating."

"D'you have other secrets you want me to spit out ?" Benji cackles, looking at the jailed man, "because I can go on for days. The—you think telling the world that I self-harmed is bad ? Wait until they learn about the rest. Huh ? You don't know what I'm capable of, Gabriel. The Entity saw what I did, but it'll never see what's up there," he smiles, and it's just as crooked, and horrifying, tapping his index next to his temple. "Fuck you, you hear me ? Go fuck yourself, you fucking nonce."

He pulls away from the glass, walking past Ethan in angry steps, the soles of his shoes echoing in the wide room. He slams the door on his way out.

"You'd be lucky to live another year," the agent seethes, shooting him a furious look. "You're a dead man."

He doesn't know if his words will actually be met with actions, but a little faith never hurt anybody. Soon enough he's out of the room as well, finding Benji sat on the floor, head on his knees and arms around his legs.

He's shaking.

"Benji," Ethan softly says, letting himself drop to his level, "hey. Benj."

"I don't want to see you," his friend mumbles, "I don't want your pity."

"I'm not pitying you. I'm—I'm worried."

"You think I'm disgusting."

"I'd never think that. Least of all of you."

"You won't be saying that when you see the shape of my arms and thighs," Benji humourlessly says, shaking his head. "Fuck. Of course he knew. God."

Ethan scoots closer, so close that their shoulders brush.

"Hey. I don't think any less of you. I'm just...I wish you'd told me," he mutters, voice soft. "You know you can talk to me, yeah ?"

"It's shameful enough to me, I didn't want you to know. You won't tell anyone else, right ?"

"Of course not, Benji. I won't tell a soul."

There's a sniffle, and then Benji's looking back to him, and Ethan kind of hates himself for thinking that the blue and gold of his eyes shone even brighter on red retina.

"I'm sorry for not telling you about Lane. I'm—I'm sorry."

"None of that," his friend whispers back, circling his shoulders with his left arm, pulling him against him, "I'm just surprised, I suppose. Who gave you carte blanche ?"

"Hunley."

"Ah...of course. Does Brandt know ?"

"Only if Hunley let it drop during one of their gross sex times," Benji shoots back, a hesitant smile forming on his lips.

"Ow, too far, Benj !"

"Sorry," he laughs, wiping the tears away. "Sorry. I—I actually was thinking of going to see one the IMF's psychiatrists. About—about the scarification ? And—and the PTSD. I guess."

"I think it's a brilliant idea, Benji," Ethan softly says, letting his fingers brush against the soft curls. "You're right, I'm sure it'll help."

There's a pause, something where it seemed like the other was about to say something but didn't, and the silence floats above them for a few seconds.

"Would you—" a cough, "would you mind, huh. Coming with me ? At the first appointment."

"With you ?"

"I haven't seen one since London. With, huh, Lane. I'm—I guess what I'm saying is that I'm scared," Benji mutters, looking down. "I'd like to have someone come with me. Not in the actual, huh, room, but, like. Being with me until it's time for the meeting. You don't have to say yes, actually it's silly, forget about i—“

"I'd love that," Ethan smiles back, letting his forehead rest on the crown of Benji's hair. "If you think it could help, then yeah. With pleasure."

"You mean that ?"

"And more."

Benji's face finally breaks into a beaming smile, and Ethan's heart finally starts beating good again.

"Okay," he whispers, like it was their own little secret. "Thank you, E."

"Thank you for trusting me, Benj."

[apenitentialprayer]

can you elaborate on “how does anyone not read Luther’s personal and spiritual life and conclude…” ? I mean I knew he was foul-mouthed but ngl say more fam

Okay, the foul-mouthedness and the being really angry and vicious towards his ideological enemies isn't great, but it's not exactly damning either; I can point to a bunch of Catholic saints who were also prone to this kind of behavior. It's just something I personally find very distasteful, and am as embarrassed by Catholic saints who engage in that kind of behavior as I would be of Luther.

But really, the parts that bothered me were twofold.

First, Martin Luther's tendency to try to fill spiritual voids and depressions with physical sensations in his later years; he was a compulsive eater and drinker, for example - he used to call this stuffing himself "fasting," because he would eat to the point of finding disgust (and thus no pleasure) in it. (Which, you know, eating can be an ascetic activity for those who have eating-disorders, but when you're exposing yourself to physical sensations purely to stave off feelings of spiritual inadequacy....). In addition to the overeating, he similarly engaged in outbursts or wrath or sexual behavior in order to distract himself from these thoughts. Call it a major bias towards the monastic ideal if you must, but I am deeply mistrustful of this kind of coping mechanism where you distract yourself by indulging the body.

Second, Martin is on record saying that there were often times that he could not pray without also cursing and damning others. I think that an inability to praise God without also wishing death and destruction of your enemies in the same breath may indicate that something is deeply, deeply wrong. Especially when you combine these statements with other statements that indicate a chronic worry that maybe he wasn't actually right and might have been leading his followers into damnation anyway.

I don't like Luther. And there are aspects of his personality that I actively dislike. But having said that, don't let this post make you think my opinion of the man is just as negative as it was when I first started reading the book; there is some stuff about him and his thought that I liked. He's just also... a lot, and I think a lot of what he had to say or do was questionable.

[parkersbliss]

Peach | F. Hargreeves

pairing: five hargreeves x gn!reader

wc; 1.4K

warnings: violence, cursing, evil ben being mean

synopsis: Another attempt to save the world, and another timeline messed up… how do you and Five get out of this one?

a/n: obviously idk if that’s how this scene will play out but it’s my best guess! only a few more days!

requests: CLOSED

prompts: 028: “Hey, hey, hey, I’m right here.” 046: “Tell me you want this too.”

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt list

—

“Shit,” Five breathed out.

You stood next to him, the same feeling washing over you.

“What is with the cube?” You whispered.

“No fucking clue,” Came Five’s reply.

Klaus rubs his eyes, taking a step forward. “Is that Ben?”

Ben looks Klaus up and down, frowning. “Who the hell are you, losers?”

Klaus slaps a hand over his heart. “Wow, he just got meaner.”

“There wasn’t a mean bone in his body, to begin with,” Viktor interjects.

Ben rolls his eyes at that, turning back to his siblings. They walk down the stairs and you want to barf at the sight of their stupid little uniforms.

“Listen, why don’t we all have a nice level-headed conversation about this, hm?” Luther asks. “Hi, I’m Luther.”

Ben smiles at him. “Hi, I’m I don’t give a shit and get out.”

You try to stifle your laugh at Luther’s failed attempt to converse with these people. Their distaste for you was obvious.

“If we kill you, do we get our Ben back?” Diego inquires.

Five lets out a groan next to you as Ben snaps his eyes towards him. “What the hell did you just say?”

“I feel like now is a good time to run,” Klaus suggests.

“Yup,” Allison agrees.

Five puts a hand to your back, pushing you out of the room. “Run!”

Five’s hand moves from your back to your hand as he jumps you both further down the hallway.

“So he replaced you guys?” You asked, following Five and taking a sharp right turn.

“Guess so. Can’t blame him after what he saw.”

“They’re so much… meaner,” You said as Five turns down another corridor.

It’s here Allison and Luther come running down, meeting you in the middle with one of the Sparrow academy members pursuing them. Suddenly, she cracks her back, and birds start flying towards you.

“Birds?” You shriek, scrambling after Allison and watching Five slam the door in the bird's face.

“Whose superpower are birds?” You pant, gesturing outside the door.

Allison shakes her head. “It’s a lot more complicated than that.”

At the sound of footsteps down the hall, you take off running again, losing both Allison and Luther. Five stops at a dead-end, cursing before jumping with you to the second floor.

Of course, someone else is already there, and Five slowly turns around to meet them. She has dark hair and green eyes. Honestly, she weirdly resembled Five.

“So, can I ask what your powers are before we engage in an exchange of fists?” You asked.

She just scoffs at you, and you nod your head. “Yeah, okay, at least I was polite.”

Five steps in front of you, concealing you from view as he eyes her up and down.

“What are you, their mascot?” She taunts Five.

He blinks behind her, throwing a punch across her face and smiling when falls to the floor. “More like their ringer.”

She narrows her eyes at Five, and out of nowhere, spits a black venom at him.

“What the fuck!” You exclaim, running to his side. “Did you just spit at him?”

She only blows a kiss at you in response. You turn back to Five only to find him in a trance. He stands still, staring into nothing and eyes glossed over.

“What did you do to him?” You hiss.

She just shrugs before spitting at you.

In response, you conjure a shield and easily deflect it. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you to floss?”

You dissipate your shield before sweeping your arms and enveloping the whole area in shadows. You can see her clearly. She’s spinning around in circles blindly. You chuckle before approaching her and punching her straight in the nose. She stumbles back, hand reaching out to find you, but you vanish into another part of the darkness. This time, you're behind her, and you kick the back of her legs to make her fold.

Again, she reaches out for you, and you vanish. She shouts in frustration, and you clear the shadows, stopping right in front of her. A blade vaporizes in your hands, and when she sees you, you kick her in the face.

She falls back to the floor, holding her face, blood dripping. You throw the blade right by her neck, letting it barely skim her before it vaporizes into nothing. You conjure two more in your hands and grin down at her.

“Reverse it,” You seethe, gripping your shadow dagger tighter.

But before anything happens, something grabs onto your leg and drags you towards the stairs. Your back crashes against the metal railings looking over the living room, and you groan. The girl spits at you again, but you’re quick enough to vanish and hide in Five’s shadow.

She stomps her foot in annoyance before running down the stairs towards Ben. Once she’s gone, you reappear in front of Five and shake his shoulders.

“Five?” You whisper.

No response. You snap your fingers in front of his face, still calling his name but nothing. He’s shaking in your grasp, eyes screwed shut.

“Five!” You shout.

Still nothing. You begin to panic, seeing he’s in obvious pain. Your eyes fall to the black venom on his forehead, and you frown. With one hand, you push back his hair, and with the other, you hover over the black goo. You use your shadow to fuel little claws that pick up the venom and throw it elsewhere in the room. As soon as it’s removed from Five, he collapses. You try your best to catch him, but you both end up on the ground in a mess.

He’s crying, and you try your best to calm him, feeling your heart break.

“Hey, Hey, Hey, I’m right here,” You whisper against his skin, hugging him close as he clings to your jacket. “It’s not real, whatever she did. It’s gone. You’re okay.”

You glance around, still clinging to the boy, and note that you need to get out of here. In a flash, you use the shadows to teleport right outside the academy.

“Five?” You called softly. “Hey.”

He continues to hiccup, breathes still ragged, and you wonder what happened to him. You’ve never seen Five like this. He was in complete distress, and you weren’t sure how to calm him down. Normally, he’s the one calming you down.

You cup his face in your hands, locking eyes with him. “Five!”

He just shakes his head, and you let out a sigh. She really fucked with his head, and you were so going to enjoy taking her down later.

You press your forehead to his, trying to get him to understand that it’s just you. There was no trick, no illusion.

He sniffles, eyes meeting yours, and his breathing starts to calm a little. Your hand finds his, intertwining them as he continues to calm down.

“It’s okay,” You assure. “It’s just me, Five.”

His eyebrows knit together in confusion. His eyes trace your face before one cups your cheek, eyes flickering towards your lips. “Tell me you want this too.”

You’re confused at the sudden phrase, given the boy was just in tears earlier, but you give in anyway. Your lips meet his halfway, and he tastes like bitter coffee and tears. You don’t mind, of course. In fact, you could get drunk on it. You squeeze his hand before pulling back.

“It’s you,” He breathes out.

“I only said that like five times,” You said with a light laugh. “But you had to kiss me to determine that?”

“Peach,” He replied. “You’re always using the same peach chapstick since we met. It’s such a small detail that can only apply to real life. If you were an illusion… you wouldn’t taste like peach because no one else knows that.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, your cheeks burning from what he said.

“And maybe because I wanted to kiss you.”

“There it is,” You tease.

Five rolls his eyes before standing up and taking you with him, given your hands were still intertwined.

“What did she do to you, Five?”

He just clicks his tongue. “Doesn’t matter. What does matter is we might just have to save the world again.”

“Third time is a charm,” You said with a grin. “Now, c’mon, we need a plan to take down that lack of personal hygiene bitch.”

“So that’s what you named her?”

“Wanna hear the others?”

Five smiles, leading you away from the sparrow academy. “List them all, darling.”

— END —

🏷 Five Taglist: @clearbasementvoid

[therese-lokidottir]

I feel mcu too much justify about peoples or organization that doing wrong things. Like tva and thanos. I meant they forces us to accept that what they did are justify and good even they did very very very horrible things (along I heard in future project mcu will make thanos more sympathy and having sad sob back story. Just record he already had in comics and mcu will making more sobbing)

You probably tired me talking about this but I can't help it specially there's other example why mcu is suck about this part.

Do you know decepticon? I take referees from transformers prime tv series, why decepticon be like they are today. Turn out cybertron in her folder age is full with corrupt the Senate's are corrupt, slavery is everywhere. The high class sacrifice lower class to they own need, the energies getting low in a word chaos.

Then Megatron (he was lower class) he was leading rebel against Senate with optimus(he middle -lower class) while all Senates were dead. Megatron became to extreme and blind by hate self, specially his friend optimus become prime it's like 'my friend become high class that I hate'. And well Megatron and decepticon becoming to extreme and mean, I meant like while they acre about cybertron they not care about other species, they do conquer to every place.

Decepticon is eiter you dead as hero or live to see yourself becoming villain. While they intended are good (erasing slavery and all caste bull shit) but they become corrupt

Also we all love decepticon for being evil, and we not saying that it's very justify for decepticon to conquer other planets for they own need.

You see here, decepticon is good example they past pretty much justify because well... They want live too and it's about surviving.

While thanos and tva reason was because 'their way are right and other way are wrong'

And the sad part is that we pretty much aware that even decepticon had sad and justify back story, we and the creator self no justify decepticon evil action to other.

But mcu justify evil actions what thanos and tva did, even what they did very very very unjustified.

It was sad if you thinking about it

Listen superhero stories when it was just villain do crime, cause mayhem or take over place/thing and then it was the hero's job to stop villain from doing bad, but then things in the MCU had a frequent habit of being bad guy wants to destroy system and hero must maintain status quo even when the story shows system is bad actually.

Like the problem with Thanos is that Marvel thinks he cool and it never takes the time to demonstrate that his plan is dumb and classist. The reality is that on earth, there's more than enough recourses the thing the prevents distribution isn't that lack of resources it's that distribution takes money. Rather than point out the mass chaos and death that would have been caused by the blip instead they give Thanos an ice cream shop and merch saying thanos was right. Because MCU thinks Thanos was cool and complex and they have people in-universe repeat that sentiment

And as I've said before, the Loki series is a mess of confused morals. Like, truly has no moral or ideals, not bad morals, just no morals either way. It doesn't think the implication of the characters actions through it just presents characters as quirky and likable and then it just makes up whatever to make the fact the they participated in fascism okay.

Just saying it was a lot easier when it was Lex Luther had a real estate scheme that put people in danger and then Superman had to stop him.

[kilibaggins]

Luther x reader. Met in Texas however she's the handlers birth daughter and has powers

Was It Real? | Luther Hargreeves

A/N: eee ! Okay so this took me a minute because my motivation flip flipped a lot but it was fun! this fic is kinda mostly angsty fighting but it's also soft and a little sweet! I did not touch on the powers much at all in this honestly I wasn't sure how to include it so it's kinda thrown in at the end, sorry about that. I hope you enjoy this either way though !!

Warnings: arguing, fighting, slight-betrayal ? lying, etc. but all of it comes to a positive/happy conclusion and forgiveness. self esteem is kinda touched in this just because it's luther and I might have added it and let me know if anything else!!

Words: 1457

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1and 2,HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

"I have to tell you something."

Luther looks up from the dining table, his plate of food in front of him. His fork dangling loosely from his hand and his eyes so full of love and trust that it shatters your heart.

"What's going on? You alright?" Luther asks, squinting up at you. You start to fidget with your hands.

You knew this day would come. You knew that eventually the Handler would come back to business and reach for what she wanted. Lila was her way of doing that. She realized either your part in this was unimportant or she realized you'd tell her no in the end, but either way Lila is involved, and Five's about to come back to this decade, and you know that now is the time you have to tell him or else… You might never be able to. Or it might hurt worse.

"I don't know how to say this, I don't know-" You sigh and sit at the table in front of him, your head in your hands. You feel tears come to your eyes. Luthers silent for a minute.

"Are you… Is this a break-up?"

You look up at him with unshed tears and laugh bitterly.

"I hope not." You say, but all It does is make him look more confused.

"Y/N, what's going on?" Luther asks, putting his fork down and trying to meet your eyes. You look away from him and take a deep breath.

"I lied to you."

Luther looks at you for a minute, confused. His looks slowly morphs from confusion to concern and anxiety. He reaches across the table to gently put his hand on yours.

"I bet it's not as bad as you think, I mean-"

"Yes, it is!" You say, moving your hand from under his and standing up, pacing for a minute. Luther flinches a bit, his eyebrows furrowing. He's never seen you like this, so high-strung. Even when in the past in your small fights you've had it's never been like this.

"What, it's not like you have some secret family." Luther jokes, trying to lighten the mood. You look at him, unblinking for a second and his face drops, going a bit pale. "Oh."

You hurry to explain, trying to make this sound less bad than it does, but also knowing the explanation might make it worse.

"No, no! It's not like that-"

"Are you cheating on me?" Luther asks, his voice rising a bit. He tries to keep his cool but when the partner he's had for over two years now is hinting at the fact they've been keeping something, especially something as big as a secret family, from him… He can't hold that in forever. "Y/N."

"No, okay! I'm not- Ugh." You sit down in the seat across from him again and look down at the table. "My mother… She runs the commission."

Luther stares at you for a minute, his mind blanking before bringing back old conversations with Five.

"You- Your mother leads the time police?" Luther says, not knowing how else to describe the commission. Five's talks can only stick so much in his brain considering how… Advanced some of it can be. So other-worldly its hard to grasp it, but here's his partner telling him they're a part of it?

"Yeah." You say, shaking your head. Any other time you'd laugh at him calling them the time police but right now… You feel a sense of dread fill in your chest. "She… Sent me here."

Luther looks at you for a few seconds before looking away. He gets up and sniffs, obviously emotional but not letting it out. He steps away and walks over to the sink, avoiding your eyes.

"I'm your mission?" Luther asks, gripping the sides of the counter. You can tell he's emotional because his voice is deeper than usual, quieter. You know what that means, the sadness and anger that's buried within him that he rarely lets out.

"I- Luther, you're more than that-"

"Am I your mission?" Luther asks again, his voice rising.

"Yes. I was- I was supposed to get close to you. So that I could get into the family and-" You sigh, crossing your arms and looking down. "I couldn't do it anymore."

"… So it was your job to love me?"

You look up at him and see that he has deflated, his shoulders low and his head bowed. He's now fidgeting with his black gloves, probably with the string on it that's loose that neither of you have gotten around to cutting off yet. It breaks your heart.

"It was but-"

"Was any of it real?" Luther asks, his voice cracking. You walk around the table and stand behind him. You bring your hand up to his shoulder and gently run it down his arm. You feel that he's shaking a bit like he's scared of your answer.

"Of course it was. Luther, I love you. That's why I'm telling you this because I- I fell in love with you and I can't keep deceiving you like this." You say, moving to his side. You try to grab his hand and to catch his eyes but he's avoiding you. "You're more than a mission to me."

Luther looks up at you and you see the unshed tears.

"I love you too," Luther says, and you can tell he means it. He takes your hand and shakes his head. “More than anything.”

“I know that this is… A big lie. I know that it’ll probably be hard to trust me now, but I want this to work. She wanted me to get close to you so I could infiltrate the family. So that when it came down to it and she needed me to do something I’d already be here to do it but I… I know that I wouldn’t be able to bring myself to hurt you like that.” You explain, bringing your hand up and running your thumb over his cheek to wipe away a run-away tear.

“Why is she trying to do this? I- I don’t understand. What is so wrong about us just existing?” Luther says, frustrated.

“You screwed up time. You aren’t supposed to be here. All of you, you jumped through time and messed it up and now my mother is tired of it. She wants the timeline restored to how it should be.” You explain, sighing. You lean against the counter and shake your head. “I used to agree with her. I used to agree that time shouldn’t be messed with but then you…”

“I what?”

“You made me fall in love. With you. With life. You made me fall in love with love. I… Maybe my mom's right. Maybe the timeline shouldn’t be messed with! Maybe we should just get rid of you all before more bad can happen, but screw that and screw her because I love you and maybe that makes me selfish but I don’t care.”

Luther pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head. His arms are tight around you but not too much so. It’s what youve always loved about his hug. He’s conscious about is strength so he never hugs you too tight but its always just tight enough to feel safe. He takes a deep breath and lets it out.

“Thank you for telling me.” Luther says before pulling back and tilting your head to look into your eyes. “Let’s figure this out, okay? Together. Whatever you need. Whatever happens next, and I mean whatever happens, I’m here, okay?”

You nod and hug him again, tighter this time.

“I’m sorry.” You say, feeling the guilt of lying to him all this time hit you.

“I know. I know, Y/N. It’s okay. We’ll figure it out.” Luther says, sighing softly. He knows he can’t let you go, even if you had been cheating on him he probably would have forgiven you. He loves you too much to lose you.

“And uh, Lu?” You say, pulling back sheepishly. You have a little smile on your face, close to a cringe. Luther raises an eyebrow at you and sighs. “I may also… Have… Powers?”

Luther sighs again and hangs his head, shaking it. Then a laugh bubbles out of his chest and he looks back at you with the most exasperated smile. Your nerves melt away and you laugh with him.

“Well, don’t leave me in suspense,” Luther jokes, his eyes filled with love.

A lot is going to happen in the next week or so, and a lot has already happened, but what matters is you have this guy with you. And you think that’s pretty great.

[nosolaceofastraightanswer]

hello everyone!! i'm the person who ran the TUA color polls for each of the seven siblings over the last few weeks. sorry it took so long but i'm here with results! i'm going to have charts first because they are flashy, easy to look at an understand, and also won't make the post too long above the keep reading :DD without further ado, the results of the poll: "Which color do you associate with [Hargreeves]?" !!

[keep in mind that the labels are above the charts, and viktor's may be hard to read because the chart maker i used only had a white background- same if you're on dark mode i apologize]

analysis and words under here if you're interested lol :D it’s basically me just rambling for WAY TOO LONG about analysis lmao

okay so going into this, my hypothesis was that everyone’s colors were more or less determined by their s2 outfits. the fashion was iconic and stood out a lot, so it was very likely to stick in people’s brains.

my personal choices in order of siblings are: blue, orange, yellow, pink, green, red, and blue again. i chose green for five because of like.. chalkboards? i feel like he gives the green vibes y’a know? for the rest it was mostly determined by outfits and vibes etc.

but i’m sure nobody wants to hear me talk about my own opinions for too long [afterall, i didn’t even vote in the polls to keep them unbiased as possible] so here’s my analysis of YOUR choices

blue green and yellow were all the top choices for luther, which makes sense to me. blue ended up winning. they’re all generally cooler colors. when i think of luther i think of less stand-out colors, something solid and steady. blue is the most popular favorite color. it has a lot of range, just like luther. he wears it a lot throughout the seasons. blue is associated (not to bring color theory onto the color theory website or anything) with a feeling of sadness, and also responsibility. i really see him as a very tragic character tbh, à la s1 characterization.

diego was surprising to me, because even though my prediction of orange was correct there was a large amount of black in play. red was third after that. i don’t see it as that surprising considering his outfit from s1 lmao. let’s be honest they’re all emo anyways. red and orange are both associated with fire. diego probably would do arson if he thought he was doing the right thing. red is very agressive of a color, but orange is seen as a little less in your face. it can represent change too. but all in all, i think that it was chosen most often because of his orange and black polka dot shirt from s2. slay ig

allison was surprising to me at first, because i didn’t expect so much purple. i think that the pink might be because she’s a girl though. the red is what confused me the most. i would love to hear anyone else’s thoughts because i’m honestly not sure. @creepy-not-crawly (❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️) was talking with me about the polls, and said this about allison having yellow win:

purple is associated with royalty and we all know she’s a queen. ofc, yellow won. we ALL remember that dress from s2. she’s also fairly optimistic for the first two seasons, and s3 largely revolves around her trying to force herself to be happy. yellow is associated with happy, and she was happy when she was with ray and trying to get it back s3. i have a post about the whole tone fuck up from s2/s3 here X so read that if you want!!

alright klaus. green came out (haha get it) in first and i think this one was essentially due to the association of ghosts and supernatural things in general with green. it’s SPOOOOOKY you know? it’s represents change and growth. the guy is trying. also the military is associated with green uniforms (at least in the US), so it can be easily linked back to the vietnam war incident from s1 and his connection to dave.

five had the most votes and it ended up with the closest results to one color taking half the pie. blue won, and red and black followed. i think for the red, it might be because of the metaphorical and literal blood on his hands. as far as i can tell, his powers- some of the most distinctly colored in the show- were a major factor: (credit to @dead-peppermint and @the-time-travelers-admirer in that order)

and his iconic uniform is mentioned as well. (thank god the old man got a change of clothes in s3, manifesting for s4) blue represents responsibility and we all know he has so much on his shoulders (insert joke about how hunched over he was s3 because aiden gallagher has been aging over these past 5 crazy years but he’s supposed to be playing a 13 y o boy). blue is also associated with calm- the man needs some calm in his life, à la that one part of s3. and last of all, sadness. i think most of us remember “HE’S LOVED THEM FOR LONGER THAN THEY’VE BEEN ALIVE” (link post cus i can’t find it) and he spent so long mourning his family, and is probably still mourning them.

og ben is probably the most underrated character imo, so i was excited for this one. i predicted red because of that one scene (UGHHH SO TRAGIC) when he was a kid and covered in blood like “can i go home now” (🥺). my dear mutual @/deadpeppermint from before left these thoughts:

blue and purple tied for first, with red and black in second. honestly the leather jacket? hoodie? thing? and generally emo vibe really lent itself to that lmao. i think purple and blue are also really good colors for him, because he is a king and also responsible as heck (or at least, he tries in comparison). i’m still crying over how he left in s2 ISTG BRING HIM BACKKKK (srsly tho line i want to make a post about his absence affected s3 ughfhfhfhfhfhh) but that brings us back to blue meaning sadness, and oh my lord does this boy represent grief!!! he’s soooooo <3

and finally omg we are at viktor! this graph is fucking hilarious to look at because it just looks empty. the white violin had an association with color, and you could NEVER GUESS which one (sarcasm). i actually forgot about this next was blue, and i think it’s cute that blue was on top three, even top two for 5 6 7. and the. @/deadpeppermint once again with thoughts:

SO TRUE!!

sorry for all of the errors i'm losing my mind.

anyways if anyone (unlikely lmao) has actually read this, or even scrolled down- hi! also goddamn! i hope someone enjoys this post because i have literally postponed so many projects for this weird little side thing. MMMMM DATA. i would make some kind of conclusion, but i'm damn tired and i think that my whole hypothesis kind of worked out! TYSM TO EVERYONE WHO VOTED!! and the people who left thing in the tags or talked to me about it? A MILLION LOVE FOREVER

i plan on doing more analysis in the future, but this is kind of dipping my toe in with a more fandom centered analysis. also! shameless self promotion! this whole thing started because i made a little animatic? thing? and started wondering about the colors because i ended up assigning them. CHECK IT OUT HERE X SUBSCRIBE TO MY YOUTUBE CHANNEL SMASH THAT LIKE BUTTON MR BEAST TIKTOK FORTNITE. anyway. i literally have two other things that have been done for a while which i'll be posting in due time. if anyone is wondering why i haven't been posting art (idk, maybe?) it's because i was holding off on this crazy monster of a post! i'm really excited to make animatics because the music bro it's got me ITS GOT ME THIS DAMN SHOW. i am a self taught beginner artist tho, so i mean be ready for that. (that makes me sound so pretentious STOPP) anyways here! 🎩👑👒🧢 swaggy hats and a 🦉🦋🐞🐠🪿🦜🐁🦔 lil guy to go with it! 🥰🫵 see ya besties ily. i am so ill.

[your-favorite-bean]

Fic Recs

UMBRELLA ACADEMY

(Most are five-centric. Gee I wonder who my favorite character is)

Also some quick notes about these:

As I said before, these are basically five centric. I do however read a lot of other stuff for other characters that I’m willing to share, so ask and ye shall receive!!! That being said, I don’t read a lot of oc fics and character x reader, so I don’t have a lot of recommendations for that.

Many of these fics were written before season three, before Viktor’s transition, which means that his deadname will be used. If you don’t want to read it, that’s totally okay, but just a forewarning!!!

Most of these fics have some dark and mature themes. And it may not seem like a serious thing, but sometimes you need to take a break from that kind of thing. This goes for any piece of media really that deals with these kinds of things. It doesn’t make you less of a person for taking care of yourself. There is no pressure to finish any of these or to even click on it. So if you read the tags (which you always should), and you think it’s not something that would be good for your mental health, don’t be afraid to tap out.

Oh and some of These have word counts but I got tired so I only did some. So pretty much All of these are multi chapter fics

Again major credit to these writers. Thank you for sharing your stories with us!!! I’m so proud of all of you guys!!! Happy Reading!!!

echoes by chiiyo86 | set in season two, allison finds Five in the alleyway and they have a lovely dynamic. Also rays there and he’s cool.

Get your hands dirty by conch_shell | outsider pov, lots of comic book elements in it, mostly about fives time in the commission

Lay all your love on me by MYSTERYstew | lots of hurt/comfort, time doesn’t heal all wounds (see what I did there??)

I kept running (for a soft place to fall) by chromaticality | Five, Allison, and Luther get kidnapped from the commission

Ive got a nasty new compulsion by chaoticgaysex | Diego gets recruited by the commission. Five has some words to say about that. Comic elements

It’s the end of the world as we know it (and I feel fine) by chaoticgaysex | Five has a breakdown, and he snaps big time. If you want to see more about fives powers, check it out

Run (because you know you cannot hide) by e_va | fives family gets kidnapped by the commission. what ever will he do (rescue his family of course, it’s five come on) also this is incomplete (at least I think it Is I don’t fucking know anymore words are hard)

Defective weaponry by printlno | five and Klaus track down a bad guy, but it doesn’t go as well as planned. Also this is based on the comics, not the show. The characters will only make sense if you’ve read the comics (well they’ll make sense, but they might seem a bit ooc sometimes)

I’ve come to talk with you again by in-a-slanted-outhouse | incomplete, but it’s really good. lots of five and Allison bonding. super sweet

All walls fall by I_Logophile | five gets kidnapped by the sparrows, and it does not end well for him. Also this is the first in a series called his walls

Ashes and Dust by Devilbaby | I honestly can’t say too much because there is so much wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff that I don’t want to give away but it’s really well done. It’s in a series called the chronos saga and I would totally recommend the whole series but the third (and final) part is incomplete

The Secret inside of you (run boy run) by Utukki | Reginald knows what Five is capable of. And he can never let him reach that potential. So he outs in a little safety measure. Incomplete

But for now it’s time to run by Ford_Ye_Fiji | ever wondered what would happens if The Doctor and number five from umbrella academy met? Boom. Here’s the fic. There’s also some plot and a whole series too, called run, boy, run, (the umbrella effect)

So be it by bobee | a series of unfortunate events, starring five. lots of hurt, but it is incomplete so there’s not a lot of comfort yet

Howling at the moon by assaily | five gets sent to Hotel Oblivion, and has to confront his inner demons. This is a great fic for those who were kind of disappointed by the hotel oblivion storyline (like myself) but it is incomplete

Intelligent conversation by Soulykins | five has a habit of talking to himself. Might have something to do with, gee I dunno 45 years in the apocalypse. This is the first in a series called old dog, old tricks and the whole series is really good if you want five angst and sibling bonding.

This is a gift, it comes with a price by rebel_by_default | set in season two, where time travel has even more consequences than in canon oh also this is a series called a beast of a burden

Monster that I despise by pinetreedeath | comic book elements, which I feel like is just code for serial killer DNA at this point (oh yeah that’s basically what it’s about). Really cool how the author writes it, however, incomplete

TUA one shots I write at 3am by pinetreedeath | they have different plots for each one but each one is incredible. You’ve got feral five, you’ve got soft five. Any five you want just pick a chapter and you’ll have it (jeez I feel like a salesman or something) also incomplete

Dealing with doppelgängers by I_Logophile | we’ve all made our assumptions about five if he didn’t get adopted by Reginald and lived a relatively normal life. Well this author wrote about it!! A round of applause. also WHUMP

The boy of Time: Come Home by JBD302020

uneasy lies the head that wears the crown by MYSTERYstew

Can you hug me as I go? by MYSTERYstew | the inevitable moment where five has to confront with the fact that he is not doing okay. angst angst angst. However incomplete

Time is a storm by Shyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy | Five gets kidnapped by the sparrows, and the siblings try to rescue him, but Reginald puts a big old wrench in their plans (I am so sorry I am terrible at short summaries). Really, really good, but incomplete and there’s a major cliffhanger

The five whistle by I_Logophile | the handler sucks, we all know that, but what if she sucked just a bit more? Five whump to the max .

Here, beneath my lungs by beastboy12 | five tries to play detective, but curiosity killed the cat, or at least inflicted a lot of pain that made the cat wish it were dead. Klaus, Diego, and Five bonding

Warming up by ClaraCivry (Kat_Of_Dresden) | if an assassin and the assassin who killed the first assassins parents got stuck in a freezer with the chance of death, what are they going to do? Bond of course!!

You can always come home by Wayward_Unicorn (42k words) | five doesn’t exist. He never has. Or is that really all there is too it? Incomplete

A closure problem by sandausdenurnen (21.9k words) | okay this is honestly hands down such a good crossover, and I don’t give that title away easily. The dynamic between Tony stark and number five (oh yeah that’s the crossover) is so good, so if you want two traumatized geniuses snarking at each other, this is perfect!!! Incomplete

Identity theft is not a joke by Ford_ye_Fiji (1.5k words) | ahhh the classic who’s the clone and who’s the real character. except fives siblings are (affectionately) idiots so it doesn’t go so well

About a boy by pistachioinfernal (25k words) | Russian gangster meets rude boy. Russian gangster feels bad for rude boy. Russian gangster bonds with rude boy. Boy is still rude this whole time | Also part of a series called Russian swears and coffee spoons (28k words) | the second and final part is incomplete

The moon laughs by Lady_Origami (96k words) | a trope we all know and love, time loop. This is great | incomplete | This is also the second part in a series called the sky weeps (106k words). The first one isn’t really related to the second one, but it’s really sweet, Klaus, Ben, and Five bonding.

Creeping towards extinction by VIKAN (62k words) holy shit this one is so good like omg I’m in love with this. This is my favorite angst fic wow. Chefs kiss

The shifting mirrors by orsumfenix (192k words) | what if five never traveled to the future? Well you saw the other hargreeves, hes still an asshole. | incomplete

Holding it together by sharkneto (91k words) | actually inspired by shifting mirrors. And oh my god I loved reading every word of this | First of a series called shifting together (251k words). Series is incomplete but definitely worth the read!!!

How the fabrics of the universe will fuck you up by fandomsandshit (4K words) | this is sort of an AU where fives abilities go a little bit further than teleporting. This is such a cool take I wish that five had these powers in the show!!!

An eye for an eye by dgalerab (80k words) | really cool series, lots of twists and turns and angst and timelines (so many timelines) and it’s just really fun. Also season two and three do not exist | Part of a series called timelines 1-2.1 (250k words) | the last fic in the series is incomplete

This world is not made for you by umbrellas out (1719) (2k words) | okay I can’t exactly summaraize this but there is a lot 567 bonding so if you like that here you go!!! | Also part of a series called the boy who ran. Also there is a slight chance that none of these links work so if they don’t I apologize.

This one’s for the lonely, the ones who seek and find by hujwernoo (2k words) | Klaus dies in the apocalypse, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be there for five | The First in a series called it comes and goes in Waves (258k words) which is INCREDIBLE so yeah Go and check it out

Sorrows like thunder clouds by Emotionally_Detached (7k words) | this is part of a series called mellow rays of the departing sun (24k words) |Five time travels to when they were Kids, but only hin. Now it’s up to him to change the past.

Time is what we Need but don’t have by Achlyz (21k words) | it’s really cute, makes me feel good by I also cried during this, but it’s mostly just family bonding with a hint of angst | Part of a series called dysfunctional family (225k words) |the final fic is incomplete

Faded by tenacioussurrender (35k words) | Lots of dad Diego, and hurt five, but it’s very Sweet and there’s a lot of wholesome pieces in it | part of a series called a ripple in time and space (145k words)

Bolt from the blue by TheArchaeologist (85k words) | this time it’s dad Klaus, and omg there is a lot of hurt but a lot of comfort, but then hurt again! That joke is Season one about Klaus Meeting fives mom at the Disco isn’t a joke anymore | Part of a series called apple of my eye (141k words), Part Four is incomplete but you can still read a lot of it.

Out of the dead land by tomorrowsrain (60k words) | five time travels to the apocalypse, but to spice it up, you have Zombies!!!! Oh and Klaus is there too, to add a dash of brotherly bonding and a whole lot of angst | incomplete

So you got to the bottom of the list, good for you!!! Treat your self, you deserve it. I’m proud of you.

Also (minor rant alert) this was HARD. Thank literally everything that I can use ao3 search filters because that was ahhhhhhhhh. Do you know how difficult it is to find a fic that you read 2 years ago and the only thing you can remember from it is the word pumpkin????? Like oh my god. Then I wrote all of this down and it mysteriously disappeared so I had to make a whole new list, which was very frustrating. But this was also fun so if you have any new requests, lmk!!!

Oh and another thing. You might’ve noticed that some of these authors names were repeated. Well turns out these incredible talented people have written a lot of other stuff, so don’t forget to explore the other stuff they’ve written. Check out the bookmarks, then check the bookmarks of those authors, and so on. Happy reading!!!

[heraldofcrow]

*kicks in the door in an attempt to make a dramatic entrance but just ends up stubbing my toe really bad*

CROWWWW!

I demand you tell me all about your ocs so that ours can have a tea party together *shakes fist menacingly*

BIM ARE YOU OKAY??

Heccin hell. That looked bad! Here take some shiny pills from my crow-collection!

—

Ok, yes now back the question, ahem! So, I don’t have a whole lot of OCs outside of my super secret original works, because I’m pretty sure I poured all my energy into developing weird, nameless NPCS in Soulsborne games in particular xD

I dunno, it’s addicting! But anyway, I do have some in “Christened in Blood” that will become/already are relevant, and even though they are mostly lore tie-ins, I did confirm with Katy and Fantomette that they “counted” as OCs 😅

I’ll be sharing about them in that case, and fair warning, some of these peeps are genuinely awful, so Emori and Hollise and the girls should absolutely feel free to kick their asses 🖤 (Fantomette, your OCs as well, hehe).

Ok um…where to start? Maybe with the Cainhurst OCs??

(Gonna cut for space because it gets long! Sincerest apologies ;-;).

—

Lord Dominic, father of Lady Maria

Alright, Cainhurst OCs it is! Here’s Dominic!

You know him already of course, since he insisted on being terrible right from the start of my fic, but believe it or not, he leaves more of an impact on the story than some of the others, so I can’t leave him out!

Basically he was the captain of the royal guard during the reign of Annalise’s mother, and before that he had been an executioner for the royal family. He and the queen were a pair of scheming devils that wanted to remake Cainhurst in a new image, which was essentially the Vileblood revolution. They rebelled against the old ways of the kingdom which basically glorified the Pthumerian rituals and traditions that were thought to bring about godhood.

Dominic and the Queen were like; Let’s cut out the middle man and just straight up use the blood to become more Pthumerian-like right away. That’s what they did, and when the queen took her throne, she kept Dominic by her side for defense.

In all truth, yes. He was an absolute bastard. He married a lesser noble from the Cainhurst-Hemwick bloodline, and fathered Maria and Bloody Crow/Luther. He was cruel and abusive towards his wife and children, usually by way of controlling everything they did. He wanted his wife to avoid “weakening” his children, and wanted Maria, his eldest, to be his trophy child successor. They were like tools to him in a grander political game, and needless to say, they all hated and feared him.

Hell, most people in the kingdom hated and feared him because he still acted as the queen’s executioner that would snuff out entire families if they rebelled or even spoke of treason. He was a terrifying, ruthless warrior and he truly believed everything he was doing was right. The only one that adored him was the queen, and he happily served her out of twisted admiration and loyalty. They were just heartless and Machiavellian enough for each other.

But to the majority, Dominic was fiery, proud, cold, zealous, bad-tempered, and stubborn. He was eloquent and manipulative as well, often intimidating to others due to his unpredictable nature.

Now, I won’t spoil much, but while Maria spent much of her life trying to erase Dominic’s memory and influence, Crow/Luther actually discovered another side to the man that changed how he saw him. Yes, he was still always an asshole, but weirdly enough, he had a very specific purpose for it. I actually enjoyed adding another layer to this character past just the abusive father figure.

PLEASE DO NOT INVITE HIM TO A TEA PARTY HE WILL KILL MULTIPLE PEOPLE LMAO

—

Lady Clarice, mother of Lady Maria

Oh wow! It’s Maria’s mom! Hope nothing bad happens to h—*COUGH*

Lady Clarice was a noble scion of a smaller family of Cainhurst aristocrats, and was pressured to marry Dominic, a high-born directly related to the queen, by her family in order to elevate their house. While she had grown up in Hemwick during its better days, she would eventually up and leave to live in the snowy, mountain-top castle across the great lake. This new life made her miserable, and her marriage with Dominic was loveless. She never actually understood why he had decided to wed her, especially when it seemed clear that his affections were turned towards the queen.

She did, however, love her children. Particularly Luther. Sadly, while she did cherish Maria, she often looked to her daughter as more of a “savior” instead of a child in need of love and care. Clarice tended to put more pressure on Maria to watch over her brother and defend them both against Dominic, because…well…Maria was strong. Maria was bolder and more confidant than her paranoid mother, and though there was love between them, there was possibly also resentment.

Clarice was, after all, just another lost child that was sold away by her family and forced into a life she did not want. She missed Hemwick, and the farms, the mills, the people. She missed her simple life and the friends she had made there…and after sinking into heavy depression, she made some critical mistakes that led to her downfall. The mark she left on Maria was life-altering, but unfortunately for Luther, his memories of her were only so extensive.

In her life she was known to be a docile, quiet woman with a love of flowers, astronomy, and old folktales/stories. She was also an artist and carried books full of colorful, floral scribbles wherever she went. Despite her cold life, there were many who loved her. Also one random fact, she was known for wearing the scents of lavender and rosemary on her clothes, which were both considered to be crude plants in Cainhurst, as they were usually associated with wandering plague doctors. However, Clarice had been surrounded by the scents in Hemwick and harbored them out of bittersweet nostalgia.

She’d enjoy the chill vibe of a good ol’ tea session I think!

—

Queen Claudia, mother of Annalise

Look, I’m not saying Annalise was some wonderful and pure person or anything, but compared to her mother, she was a saint. Claudia may be one of the most devious characters I have ever come up with for a fic, and when you combine her and Dominic, you have a very bad combo.

Claudia was the younger daughter of Queen Zofia (the name I gave to Annalise’s grandmother), and sister to Lady Evelyn, who I’ll talk about later. There was something very devilish about Claudia from the start, because she was basically one of the first people to get her hands on forbidden blood before the whole thing with the scholar even happened. She straight up consumed that blood smoothie, and then gave birth to her first child, Annalise. Fun fact! Annalise was born immortal, and Claudia discovered this when she saw Anna immediately regenerate from a wound when she was a young child.

After that, Claudia basically usurped her elder sister’s throne by claiming that she had more of a right to it because she was the one with the immortal heir. Evelyn’s children were not “special” by any means. And after spreading her “we’re going to produce an immortal line of rulers and give this divine life to our people” propaganda, Claudia won the favor of the kingdom’s citizens and nearly incited a rebellion when the former queen resisted the claim.

In the end, through extreme manipulation and theatrics, Claudia won and inherited the throne. She took a consort, raised her daughter to be the public golden child, and encouraged a more Bacchanalian culture in Cainhurst. She wanted her people to revel, feast, lust, and drink, and to become drunk on blood. It’s how she controlled them. Yes, this also is what gave Cainhurst a bad reputation and image for the rest of the world. They became known as drunken, careless nobles that craved bloodSport. Claudia relished in this.

She was a callous, dangerous, cutthroat, and manipulative queen. She wore many faces depending on her audience, and was a narcissistic, arrogant, and cruel person overall. She used people like pawns, including her own children, and did whatever it took to keep her line on the throne. That included side-lining her own sister, encouraging abuse towards her sister’s children, and keeping Dominic by her side, who she trusted completely and could unleash on anyone that opposed her. I don’t even want to get into what she did to Annalise because the fic will cover that and it might be a little too much for a simple OC post lmao. (Fantomette can confirm).

There had never really been a queen like her before, since most were benevolent and decent, but Claudia was just genuinely evil-hearted.

So, fair warning, you do NOT want this lady at a tea party lol. She’s probably the only Cainhurst noble besides Dominic that actually earned the “Vileblood” name xD

—

Lady Evelyn, aunt of Queen Annalise, mentor to Lady Maria

If Claudia was the “bad” sister, then Evelyn was the “good” sister. Even though she looks scarier, hehe. Yes, I did come up with this character because of the gun, but it just made sense to me that they would name the weapon after the commander of the beast-hunting knight’s calvary. In my eyes, the previous armies were not as well equipped for beast hunting because the plague hadn’t been very prevalent then. When it got worse, and after Evelyn had been cast aside in favor of her sister’s rule, she founded a new league of knights.

Evelyn was calm, rational, and intelligent. She carefully analyzed Gehrman from afar and the way in which he modified weapons before proceeding to imitate him and garner extra knowledge from Eastern weapon-smiths. She modified and commissioned the Evelyn pistol, the Chikage, the Reiterpallasch, and even the Rakuyo upon Maria’s request. Sometimes she made the weapons herself, sometimes she simply told the weapon-smiths how to design them, but every time she would end up with something brilliant.

Her knights loved her, and she was their strict, formal commander and trainer. She also taught Lady Maria how to fight, and how to adapt to using standard weapons instead of blood-blades. Maria’s dualistic skills began with Evelyn and continued with Gehrman, both of whom she admired.

Evelyn found that her focus on beast-hunting and leading her knights was the best way to avoid Claudia and the strife within their shared home. She did her best to not provoke her sister and remained silent even after the usurpation, but inevitably there was a deep resentment brewing. In secret, Evelyn prepared her son (Leo) to one day reclaim the throne. This quiet treason was the foundation for much of the tension between the descendants of both sisters.

Regardless, Evelyn’s plans were understandable, and while she may have been quite bitter and aloof, she at least loved her children, her knights, and her remaining family, often holding back her own desires for their sakes. It was her graceful daughter that led the knights during the time of Logarius’s attack, and Leo, who was very similar to his mother if only a bit more volatile, loyally fought in his mother’s name for many years of his life.

Evelyn would be very stern and formal at a tea party, so maybe not the most exciting person to invite, but she would be able to tell some great stories, and at least she’d hold back from fighting anyone lol.

—

Lord Theodore, brother of Queen Annalise

(It’s funny using this portrait because Fantomette has a whole different OC based off of it who is so sweet, but now I gotta share my totally different one kjsjs).

I don’t have a whole lot to say about this pompous loser, but basically, he was Annalise younger brother and was usually pretty satisfied to just do whatever his sister asked if he was able to live a luxurious, unbothered life in return.

As a child, he was a spoiled brat and endlessly bullied his cousins (Evelyn’s children) because uhh…he thought it was funny? I guess? Basically he took after his mother, but without the cunning and frightening intelligence. He was a somewhat decent captain of the guard after Dominic, but his battle skills were really not too impressive or anything. He usually just sent out his underlings to do most of the dirty work when he could.

Needless to say, he wasn’t exactly popular among his own soldiers for that, but he was quite popular with the kingdom’s people. He looked like some dreamy, romantic hero, and so they all put him on a pedestal for it. He loved the attention and praise from them, because…well, it was what fueled him to keep doing his job. He was a spoiled, smug individual, and just wanted to eat, drink, be merry, and enjoy long life, which he received from his sister’s blood.

He did have some mild resentment towards Annalise because as adults, she treated him as somewhat of a pawn or a public trophy to win her people’s affections, but her compensation for his work was usually so lavish that he just ignored his issues with Annalise. He didn’t consider them worth losing his luxuries.

He’d be an overly-proud and selfish person to have at a tea party, but hey, he’d be kinda fun to bully because there’s no way this guy can take what he dishes out sjhskkskj. He’s rude as hell to people he doesn’t like, but you could probably get him to cry if you insulted his hair xD

—

Ok, finally I’m away from Cainhurst, thank Kos. I do have more background characters developed, but they aren’t active enough in the story to mention, and again, they’re usually just family/lore tie-ins.

Anyway, let’s look at a couple more characters that actually influence the story in CIB.

—

Felix, The Hinterlands Scarecrow and predecessor to Eileen

Imagine Eileen but with a scarecrow cap, a creepy scarecrow mask, a blue-beaded bell charm, and slightly blue-splattered feathers with blue/gold thread subtly woven in. That was Felix, the Blue Crow, the Scarecrow, whatever you wanna call him. He came from the “Hinterlands” aka “totally-not-Tibet” where the first hunter-hunters came from.

In my canon, Eileen was born in “totally-not-Nepal” which is geographically, (and accurately so irl), right next to “totally-not-Tibet.” So, she and Felix crossed paths as youths and knew each other for years. Felix was the nephew to the first hunter of hunters, and had hoped to succeed her as the next to carry the mantle. However, his aunt skipped over him and chose another lad to carry the crow mantle for a few years. Yes, Felix was young at the time and therefore a bit immature. He was jealous of the successor, Brandon, for years, but wouldn’t ya know it, they finally met and Felix realized the bastard was actually pretty cool.

Fast forward a few years, Felix is Brandon’s soon-to-be successor, and the two are like…best friends. They were like Anakin and Obi-Wan in The Clone Wars fr. Absolute bros.

They even went to fight on the frontlines of a distant war together, and spent a lot of time hunting down crazed members of the League who were losing their minds. Obviously Brandon was the mercy-killer, but Felix learned how to become a dangerous warrior along the way.

Then BAM! Brandon goes whack in the head after some rough turns in the road and Felix has to be his mercy-killer in order to finally embrace his crow-mantle. What was once a young boy’s dream of glorious achievement was now a bitter and grim affair. Felix very reluctantly took down Brandon and became pretty withdrawn, cynical, and stoic afterwards. That’s when he found Eileen again and started training her.

Felix was a crow for a long time, and his reputation for having killed one of his own “kin” earned him the moniker of “The scarecrow among his own.” After all, what is a scarecrow if not the terror of even the ominous crows? Felix would kill one of his own if necessary. While he was highly emotive, wild, and strong-willed as a youth, older Felix was closed-off, disciplinarian, traditional, cold, and pessimistic. Only Eileen knew him for who he really was, and the two had an unspoken bond like a brother-sister pair. Felix discouraged any emotional ties, but yes, he did care for Eileen, and vice-versa.

Really, the only strife that arose between them was when Eileen’s apprentice became the Bloody Crow, because uhhh, you can imagine Felix’s PTSD with crow-hunters teetering on the edge of madness and all that. Heh.

Overall, Felix would be fine at a tea party, but he might be too strict or sharp-tongued, thereby killing the mood a bit. How dare anyone have fun and be relaxed in his presence 😒 (He’s actually a good guy tho, plz don’t judge him too hard </3)

—

Hugo, Logarius’s second-in-command.

I don’t know what it is with me and making awful characters, but I guess I need them for the plot lmao. Hugo is genuinely despicable, and honestly on the same level as Claudia/Dominic. At first, you might just think he’s a bully, but his undying loyalty to Logarius of all people suggests that he’s worse.

Hugo was originally the son of one of Gehrman’s hunting captains, and grew up in the hunter’s culture around Byrgenwerth. He was ambitious and aggressive as a hunter, usually overly-mutilating beasts, getting into fights with his peers, and causing trouble. Most suspected that he just had a violent home life, but nobody could really confirm what the problem was.

Nevertheless, Hugo hated humanity and found “the hunt” to be a way to unleash all his vicious loathing. He very loudly preached against the idea that beasts were human, and he didn’t believe that Pthumerians, Vilebloods, or any other humanoid type beings were human either. This is essentially what Logarius taught, and even though they all knew it was BS, they had to justify their actions somehow.

Hugo tortured and butchered countless people over the years when he followed Logarius into the Church and became an Executioner (Logarius’s right-hand man). Anyone with even the slightest signs of bestial infection were targets for Hugo, and there were rumors that he had cannibalistic tendencies when dispatching his victims because he “didn’t see their flesh as human flesh.” (Another lie to satisfy his lust for destruction of his fellow man of course). The other Executioners always helped cover up his crimes because they were scared of him too. Everyone knew that he was a perverse and disgusting individual.

So, yeah…do NOT, I REPEAT, DO NOT INVITE THIS SADISTIC BASTARD TO YOUR TEA PARTY PLEASE OMG. If you don’t hate him now, you will when I post the next few chapters because uhhh…uhh…uhhh….ANYWAY!

—

Johann and Pavel, the Yharnam Clockmaker

Alright, this one is a bit complicated because I know it’s two names here, but it’s only one character, and not in a Dr. Jekyll type of way. Basically this old guy, Johann, was a clockmaker in Yharnam and was one of the people to help design the Astral Clocktower itself.

Johann lived alone in his old age, but had what was likely schizophrenia and constantly hallucinated the presence of his long lost son, Pavel. Pavel had died as a child, but to Johann, he was his small, tag-a-long apprentice in the old clock-shop. During the years when Bloody Crow/Luther was in Yharnam, he befriended the grizzled clockmaker and formed somewhat of an odd friendship with him.

Luther was always coming in to commission him for pocket watches or water clocks….because Luther had a specific interest in collecting and learning how to craft the ornaments. He employed their designs in things like little smoke and powder bombs as well, and Johann was the go-to “parts guy.”

So, Johann spent many hours chatting away with Luther as they worked on these little trinkets, and the latter got used to seeing the aged man call out and speak to his deceased son like it was nothing. Just another sad story of Yharnam madness, eh?

You could invite this fellow to a tea party for sure. He’s nice, and just a bit eccentric is all. Yes, he talks to someone you can’t see, but there’s nothing wrong with that! Bloke deserves some free cake tbh.

—

Ok! I’m pretty sure those are the main OCs for CIB, and even though I developed the hell out of Vileblood Drifter Leo (He’s Evelyn’s son in this story), those two Research Hall doctor-hunters (Gladys and Ursula), and the previous crow-hunters, those are all either non-original characters already or characters that are only mentioned by name in the fic. I do plan to make a big post for my headcanons on the previous crow-hunters sometime, but they’re mostly for background lore purposes. I’m not sure if I’ll ever actually write all their stories.

In the mean time, this is gonna be one hell of a tea party…are you ready Bim?? XD