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#i forgot to draw her light fur parts oops
cat-of-doodles · 3 years
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Han but shifted into a very cool dragon puppy!
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ofmythsandmadness · 5 years
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The Night We Met.
PAIRING: Ben Hargreeves x Reader SUMMARY: Years after the lose of your childhood love, you decided to pay your respects, one last time. WARNINGS: angst. pain. lots of both. this is super sad, so read on well aware of what’s to come. there’s zero happiness in this, really truly (oops). WORD COUNT: 3000+
A/N: I was in a rough place and super sad and then I wrote this (like two nights ago), and then I didn’t have a chance til now to finish it up. It’s super sad and unedited, so I suppose read on at your own risk. Also, I don’t know if I really wrote Klaus well...I did my best. Again, this isn’t really edited and sort of just a toss away coming from an emotional me loving & missing Ben Hargreeves too late.
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A LONG TIME AGO, she swore she would never step foot in that cursed house again.
But there she was, standing in the middle of the foyer, taking it all in as though it was her first time. And in a way, it was the first time she truly took in all the details, all the terrifying glory the mansion was, standing several metres below it all. In all her visits, Y/N had only once used the front door - and it was to exit, not come inside.
She tore her eyes away from the sky and shifted forward. In her hand were crumpled flowers, a rather cheap bouquet with wilted petals and a gaudy ribbon holding the stems together. Y/N was never a flower person and she certainly was not going to convert for the sake of a dead tyrant, and honestly it was all she could bother with. Not like the old man was going to see them anyways.
Y/N turned to place the bouquet on the front table, carefully tucking up the ribbons around the flowers, as though that was going to save the cheap, gross look. Without another thought turned to the ‘prison’s’ architecture, she was moving away, floating off and up the stairs. The house was silent, with ghosts of laughter lurking about every corner, but no familiar face to take in. Maybe that was best, too. She would rather be alone. Even just seeing Pogo again made her choke and struggle to even get a word out. The butler was polite enough to let her be, but there was no way to guarantee that for anyone else.
She stumbled down the long hallway, following a trial of memories, past the doors to nearly the end. It was shut, but not locked, and she was able to gently push it open and step inside, immediately coming to a halt at the entrance.
Nothing had changed. Not a detail, not a book changed from how it looked when she had ran out years and years back. Her hand shakily reached out to bump the light switch, heart beating even harder when the small room was illuminated with light.
The bedrooms of the Hargreeves children had always felt small, but as she stood in the doorway, peering about with tears in her eyes, the tiny space felt suffocating. Too many memories, too many reminders of a life she had buried deep, deep down a long time ago. Too much came back too quickly, and Y/N had to steady herself against the doorframe before continuing.
But she had forced herself all the way for a reason. Even if it was the last time she stepped inside, it was something and she had to pay her respects to him. And so, Y/N choked back her quiet sob and shut the door behind her, letting the past wash over her and engulf her beneath the inky black waves.
“Stay still!”
“I’m trying!”
A soft snort left the girl’s lips, followed by a muffled laugh. “You’re not trying hard enough,” she giggled, lunging so the end of her paintbrush could jab into his shoulder. “You gotta stay still, ‘else this drawing’s gonna be bad.”
“You’ve never drawn anything bad. It’s going to look great.”
Once more, she snorted. “Of course it will, Benny. It’s a drawing of you.”
In the dim light of the room, darkness only barely pushed away by a flashlight, his cheeks bloomed with rosy pink, a flush at the teasing compliment. Neither one addressed it, but both of them took note, and even as she studied the paper, the girl was smiling.
She had forgotten about the sketches she had done of him - but moreover, she had not realised he had made a point to keep each one. Her finger traced the thick stains on the paper, lines creating the pointed chin and soft, shy smile she had loved so much. Y/N had forgotten how much she loved to draw, especially him - she had not touched a paintbrush in years.
Not since.
Her eyes lifted and the sketch left her fingers, leaving them free to reach up and trail down his bookshelf. He always had far too many to count, and multiple times she teasingly questioned if he had ever even read half of them. But every time, he claimed that he had and honestly? Despite the poking fun, she had no doubt about it.
She shifted across the carpet, jean-clad legs coming to rest beside his. They were just barely touching, arms brushing every time she took a breath.
“W-what are you doing?”
“Shh,” she sleepily murmured back. Her head fell to his shoulder, eyes lazily scanning the pages of the book in hand. “What are you reading?”
Under her head, Y/N could feel him tense up, a common reaction she had become used to. She knew he was nervous around her, and could discern some sort of reason why - though there was no part of her courageous enough to truly act on it. No, her bravery extend to little actions like that, where she could cuddle into his side and blame her actions on something like weariness. 
“H-Diego got it for me,” he said softly. His trembling hand moved to her shoulders, draping across as a sort-of intimate support. All actions were hesitant and unsure, but when Y/N snuggled closer in, some of the shaking died down. “It’s about these elves? And all the races around them. It’s sort of badly done, but considering everything it’s good.”
“Can you read it to me?” 
“Yeah, uh - sure.”
Y/N stifled a yawn and moved even closer. Her eyes slid shut and she let her mind drift, focused only on his sweet voice recounting a tale she probably would not remember the next day. And all the while, she could feel his heartbeat just barely against her own skin. And…
She blinked away the glossy cover of tears and pulled away from the book in hand. It had meant a lot to Ben, she did remember that - Diego had got it from him and though it was one of those clearance buys, the sort that were sold at the lowest of bookstores because no one else bought them, he had cherished it because it was from his brother and it was an act of love. And in turn, he had shared that love with her, eventually striking up a routine between the two of them. Any time she came over and it was nice, he would read and her head would rest against his shoulder, eyes sleepily watching as he read aloud to her. Sometimes, she would adjust and press a soft kiss to his shoulder, or cheek if she was brave enough, and watched as his face exploded with a deep red in reaction. It had made her smile, to know even before they ever solidified a thing between them, that they were both madly falling for the other.
It had not taken long for them to break. It was her that made the first move, though immediately after came his eager response. Even through the pain, Y/N smiled, seeing those fateful moments flashed in her mind like a movie. She never forgot that night.
It was raining, and she had come to his window soaked right through. He had scolded her for coming at all in such bad weather, and her argument back was that it was a short walk, and she could just steal another one of his signature black hoodies. Ben still remained tense, arguing back to her that she could get pneumonia or something in the cold, and then...
-Y/N gently touched her lip, cold fingers pressed into the skin. It was their first kiss, and it was everything expected - short, awkward and surprising for both of them. But just as a younger Y/N had pulled back, unsure if her kissing him was even the right move, if he had wanted that to happen, Ben pulled her in and that was when, really truly her young, cold heart burst and bloomed inside her chest.
“He-Y/N.”
She whirled around, coming face to face with a shocked Klaus Hargreeves. Or at least, who she could assume was him - it had been too many years, and he had aged remarkably, but the dark, glittering eyes definitely matched with the boy she once knew. Though, wrapped in cheap fur and a black coat that hung from his willowy frame, with large bags under his eyes and shaking hands - it was clear life had not treated her old friend well.
“What a surprise this is…”
“Yeah, sorry,” she mumbled. Her hands found the pockets of her sweater, forming fists within the fabric. “I didn’t mean to come uninvited. I just...heard the news about your father. Sorry, by the way.”
Klaus snorted. “Please. I think this might just be the happiest day of my life, Y/N. Finally, I can walk through this prison and not have to worry where’s he’s lurking - a goddamn creep, our dear father was!”
That outlook was not so surprising. She could honestly bet that none of them would be too saddened by the news, but there was still a sting of guilt at her being there. She shuffled in place. “Right. Well, still, sorry for showing up out of the blue and intruding.”
“You’re not intruding at all,” he said. Klaus’ gaze had softened and he pulled forward to pat her shoulder. “But I do have to ask - why now?”
“Oh. Well, um...honestly,” she sighed, “I came purely for my own self. I know I said all stuff about never coming back, but I-I - when I saw that he had died, I mean...it felt fitting.”
Klaus knew exactly what was alluded to - it was not hard to remember Y/N and Reginald’s first and only interaction. A shudder ran through his slender frame, and his grasp on her shoulder tightened. “Are you alright?”
Y/N nodded, though there was no possible way for her to be ‘alright’, not there and not then. “Yeah. I just...wanted to pay my respects, see it all one last time.”
“Ah.”
“I still can’t wrap my head around it,” she murmured. Pulling away, she headed to the tiny desk and lifted one of her sketches for him to see. Rough charcoal formed a young boy’s face, frozen in a laugh, almost so real the two of them could hear the giggles fill the room. “I - for years, I couldn’t even think about it. Losing him...broke me so much, and I know - well, you get it. He was your brother, and I know that you two had such a bond. But I...I loved him, too.”
The room’s atmosphere suddenly shifted, a chill running through the and sending shivers down both individual’s spines. 
Klaus, for once, said nothing.
“I loved him so much, and I know he loved me. And I…” she stopped, wiping a fallen tear from her cheek. More followed swiftly, but those she ignored. “You know, we talked about what we could have, when he finally got old enough to leave. We’d run far, far away. Say a big screw you’ to dear old Reggie and leave to build our own lives. He wanted to go to school, you know? Dreamt of having a career of his own, something that helped the world. Something he got all on his own.”
“He was always the ‘goodest’ of us all.”
Y/N smiled softly at Klaus’ comment. Her face was alight with silver, and specks of black stained under her eyes, contrasting against the puffy red skin. But neither took note. “He was. He cared so damn much, about everyone. I could never understand how a boy that good could see himself as a monster, but I - I just wanted to tell him that he was nothing like what his father claimed him to be, he never could be.”
“Hey, no-” Klaus stepped forward then, wrapping his thin arms around her shaking frame. It was then that Y/N finally gave in and truly began to sob. Loud, broken cries that echoed throughout, filling the air. She tried to speak, struggling to say some sort of huffed apology, but he cut her off with a ‘you’re going to choke on your words, just hush!’. It was not that funny, but she did smile at that.
Finally, Y/N pulled away, brushing at her eyes and face with a sigh. “Thanks, Klaus.”
“Well, I’m not him but I am known for my hugs,” he grinned back, his own sadness staining his pale face. Still, he clung to the funny facade, twisting into a funny curtsy. “At your service.”
“Well, thanks.”
She moved back to the drawings, pulling through them with a frown, but Klaus did not take note of the art. Instead, his eyes drew down to the flash of light reflected on her finger. He gasped. “Is that--”
“-what - oh. Yeah,” she nodded solemnly. Her hand lifted and then he could see the slim ring on her hand, glittering in the light. It was plain, only decorated by a single diamond pressed into the precious metal. “S’a recent thing.”
“Well, congrats - whoever it is, they must be extremely lucky.”
Despite herself and the pain still wringing her heart through, Y/N smiled, thinking of who had put the ring on her finger. “Yeah...yeah, I think I’m the lucky one in this. I didn’t think I’d ever get the chance to be in this position, truly. But they’re...they’re good to me.”
“Well, I can’t wait for my wedding invite!”
“Ha - yeah. Of course, we’ll save a seat for you, Klaus.” The light soon faded in her eyes, though, as they lifted back to the surroundings and seemingly, she remembered just where she was. “This might sound silly, but...I actually came here, almost to come to terms with the engagement.”
“What do you mean?”
Y/N shrugged softly. “I don’t know. I just wanted a chance to say goodbye to him, one last time, let him go. I held onto him for so long, not accepting that he’s gone - and even now that I’m engaged to be wed, I still had this overwhelming guilt, like I was betraying Ben, somehow.”
“Well that’s not stupid, Y/N - you loved him. I don’t really know much about love, but I do know what the two of you had was...it was something,” Klaus said, almost wistfully as he looked at her hand. He moved beside her again, rubbing her shoulder with long, spindly fingers. She leant into the movement.
“We were supposed to get married, one day.”
“I know.”
“We were gonna have a big house, maybe take in a couple kids - we were both more into adoption, given everything.”
“I know, he told me. He never shut up about the plans, if you could imagine.”
Y/N shut her eyes, swaying ever so slightly where she stood. “I just wish...I wish I could see him one last time. Tell him I love him, that I always will.”
“He knows, Y/N. It’s okay.”
At that, her eyes sprung open, flitting over to stare in surprise at Klaus. “What do you mean by that?”
For a moment he froze, and almost looked through her, past at whatever could be behind. But just as she was going to question him and dig into whatever he could have meant by that, Klaus slipped into an easy smile and a shake of his head. “I just know, you know? Dear old Benny, God rest his soul.”
Her eyes remained narrowed in slight suspicion for a breath, but soon it slipped back into weariness and a soft, sad grin. She pulled him in for one last hug, clinging tight to him before drawing away. “Thanks for this, Klaus.”
“Oh, I - well, I haven’t done a thing.”
“No, seeing you again, getting a chance to get over myself and all the pent-up shit attached to him - it’s helped.” She patted his arm one last time before pulling away, brushing at her eyes on the way to the door. Her voice was choked as she spoke, but still clear enough to discern her words. “Goodbye, Klaus. Don’t be afraid to keep in touch.”
And with that, the door was shut and Y/N had vanished just as quickly as she had came from the room of her childhood love, leaving behind all the memories and pain of years long past.
Once he was sure she could not hear him, Klaus whirled around, glaring at the ghostly figure. “What was all that for?”
Ben’s pale face was stained with his own tears, broken by the image of Y/N. For just like for her, it had been years since he had properly seen her, aside from the glimpses of old memories he begged Klaus to bring out for him.
“Ben?”
“She’s found someone,” he said, barely a mumble into the silence. His hand rose to wipe at his face. “She’s happy, Klaus.”
“Well I know she’s said that, but-”
-he cut him off with a wave of his hand, running straight through his brother’s body. “She’s happy, and I want - I can’t just be selfish and not let her move on.”
Klaus rolled his eyes and moved to interject, but once more Ben cut him off. He could not touch his brother, but did make a point to try, waving a ghostly hand through the man’s arm and torso. “It’s not worth it, Klaus.”
Outside the Hargreeves house, stood Y/N, frozen just outside the large gates. Her eyes were trained on the paper in hand. She had stolen one of the sketches, one of her favourites that were ever done of him. He had not known she was drawing him, lost in his book, cross-legged on his bed with eyes focused downwards. She had taken the chance and sketched him loosely, drawing the boy in all his soft glory, the faintest of smiles resting on thin lips and the silky strands of hair falling freely across his forehead. It never had been her best work, but it had meant the most to him and years and years later, it was the most important to her.
Y/N sighed shakily through her sobs. Her hand pressed one last time to the drawing, tracing the lines before falling away. The drawing was folded back up and slipped into her pocket to be clutched tight by shaking fingers. And with that, she turned away and began her walk back to her new life, away from the one she had left behind.
Little did she know, Ben had watched her from his old bedroom window, craning until he could not see her anymore.
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