This is a transplant from Spacebattles, so if the author notes are a bit off, that is just me being frustrated with the forum format-

Let me make this very clear, this NOT A SELF INSERT. Ben is an original character who is living a second life with his past life's memories who has absolutely no idea why he is there or what his purpose is. He knows nothing about Worm and is seriously just a smartass teenager with crazy life knowledge and experiences that he plays off of trying to be a better person then last time around. Not a creepy older man trying to date a teenage girl. I'm getting really tired of pointing this shit out thus the edit.


My name is Benjamin, and I'm...not sure how to be a boyfriend, to like anyone with a functioning brain.

Yet it happened...and I seriously have no idea what I'm doing

She is...so much better than me and...she needs my support...badly...

With my ex...well...

I never intended to fall in love before, hell we barely dated.

I never intended to get married.

I never intended to get divorced when my wife cheated on me, which I am fairly certain that my work related absences did not help.

My failed marriage...I was a stupid...no...no not going that route, I'm far smarter than that and...my ego won't let me admit to anything else.

Oh, fun fact. Along with being a terrible husband, and not knowing how to be a boyfriend, I have an ego that I hadn't earned which annoys me beyond words. Which kicked off said ego, again, self reciprocating induced neurosis, how...fun.

Seriously they could open a new mental hospital to deal with the shit that goes on in my own mind.

Ever watch Dexter or House, or anything related to The Joker from Aleph?

Entry level to how fucking unsettled I was in my past life, the only positive factor was that I was very much more House in mentality than anything else.

Ah.

Right, that.

My past life.

See I died, and rather ignobly and ridiculously may I add.

Became a nearly non-functional drunk after my divorce, got a job I hated, got fired because I told my bosses to go fuck themselves when they informed me I was going to be forced to work twelves seven days a week because they'd fired everyone else who also told them to go fuck themselves when ordered to work twelves seven days a week.

Then they tried to call me in when they realized they literally had lost all of their workers.

I did the mature thing, obviously.

I broke out laughing, told them to fuck themselves and drank more.

Noticing a theme here?

So my death was...actually hilariously unrelated to my job, my apathy, or my drinking problems.

Nope, how did I die?

Starting shit with my ex wife's new beau?

Nope.

Getting absolutely shit faced and die in a car accident.

Nah.

Went to my former employers and decided to throw down with my boss.

Negative.

I died to a bear.

A bear.

A. Fuck. Mothering. Bear.

I mean seriously, what the fuck?

It wasn't even epic or anything, I just went outside to take my empty wine boxes out to the firepit and there it was digging through my trash, staring up at me dumbly while my drunk ass brain tried to process the fact that I was facing down a bear. A goddamn bear.

The thing that really, really pisses me off? I am a very vocal proponent of the second amendment and was armed to the teeth, theoretically anyhow.

When the bear mauled me to death I was armed with an AC/DC t-shirt, sweat pants, and a couple empty boxes of shitty gas station wine.

I'm fairly certain I was laughing my ass off when I fell down to hell.

That being said, being reborn on Earth Bet was while unexpected, was also as horrible as I anticipated my afterlife to be. Honestly, as a student of literature and philosophy I would rather face down Dante's Inferno when compared to the shit show of unrelenting, unending, unavoidable doom that a world containing entities that the authorities actively labeled as Endbringers contained.

Oh, did I also mention that the authorities are completely inept and incompetent and let fucking NAZIS control most of my new hometown?

Lemme be blunt here, while I am a pacifist at heart, I'm also an asshole who will shoot you if you break into my house and or threaten someone I care about. One who grew up listening to my grandfathers talking about their days of Kraut Kontrol, my grandmothers talking about how they lacquered up ammo boxes and packed bandages to be sent out on Liberty ships. Stories of my grand uncle laughing about the time his B-17 was blown up over France and he literally shot his way back to the frontlines, demanding a new pistol because he broke the one he landed with over a Nazi's skull, and this kraut rifle was a piece of shit.

I. Do. Not. Like. Nazis.

That is neither here nor there, it's all just setting the tone of how fucked in the head I am at the moment.

I died, I woke up in a new body, in a new life, and I really, honest to whatever god exists, leaning toward Obi-Wan truthfully since he's done a helluva lot more for me than any of the others, have no idea why I am here. No, seriously though, I have no idea why I'm alive. I coasted through life for so long I just...got used to it, I lived in a dying city, on a dying planet, and oh, also, superpowers were a thing.

Then one day I found a girl crying over a destroyed flute, and I stopped to ask her if I could help.

It made her cry more.

It took a lot of talking, a lot of cajoling, but I managed to get her to let me walk her home.

I...didn't expect becoming her friend over the next few weeks.

I really really didn't expect to start dating her.

And I really, really had not ever anticipated the day where I was contemplating murdering a group of teenage girls and fully intended on going through with it if Taylor hadn't asked me to not act on her behalf.

Damn...life really throws you some curveballs...

I really have no idea how to be a proper boyfriend...but...maybe I could figure it out?